#like yes my hip/leg has been flared up for a month

[bunny584]

Thinking about our boys this fine evening,,

What would their reactions be if you bought them a present?

TURNING TABLES

A/N: My love, I’ve been sitting on this ask for MONTHS. Just chomping at the bit to do it justice. I hope it’s everything you wanted. Enjoy this fluffy fluffy drabble with a lil sprinkle of angst 💕

C/W: Nada, the boys just being adorable. Established relationship. I hope this gives y’all as many delulus as it did me.

GETO

“You’re never going to guess what I got you for your birthday, dimples!” 

Your pretty finger digs into the crater in his left cheek that you’re so fond of. 

Suguru swallows a grin. 

Two things. 

One, you’re the only human in this lifetime and the next, who could call him that and wake up the next morning. 

Two, he knows exactly what you got him. 

Because you’re oblivious in a way that made him fall for you in the first place. 

To you, birthdays are sacred. And must be treated like National holidays. All week you’ve been padding around the apartment, glee in your footsteps. 

You’ve been staring at him. A whole galaxy in your eyes. Precious little giggles escape you at every turn. Because there’s a secret only you are privy to. 

Or so you think. 

Suguru has heard you badgering someone over the phone. 

“No no, it can’t be purple. His favorite color isn’t purple. It’s indigo. The shade between royal blue and violet. Blue. Indigo. Violet. ROY-G-BIV. Rainbows. Indigo.”

You almost flung your laptop off the balcony   two mornings ago. 

Instead of just closing the browser displaying shipment confirmation for the silver analogue watch with the indigo face and chrome bezel. You tossed the entire laptop away and Suguru had to lunge to catch it from shattering.

You are clumsy. 

And terrible at surprises. 

And he adores you. 

More than he knew possible. 

Suguru shrugs out of his grey peacoat. Dinner was phenomenal, yes. But now he needs you on his tongue for dessert. 

He watches you step out of your heels, somewhat upset you didn’t let him take them off for you. 

“On the couch and close your eyes!!” You squeal before disappearing into your bedroom. 

“Yes ma’am.” Low chuckle spilling from his lips. 

You’ll be the one following orders in a second. 

Suguru does as he is instructed. Back against the plush couch. Legs spread a little further than usual. 

You’ve had him stiff as a board the whole night. Doting over him. Petting his thigh. Pretty lips full of quick kisses and “Happy Birthday baby” and “I love you.” He almost took you at the dinner table. 

But he’s a gentleman. 

At least, before you get behind closed doors. 

“Are you ready for me, birthday boy?” You call out. And your voice alone strips him of manners. 

“I’m ready to be inside you, gorgeous.” Suguru palms the length of his shaft. 

“Suguru!!! Behave.”

In a matter of seconds, your full body weight lands on his lap. You straddle him and his hands fly to your rounded hips. 

You are wearing significantly less clothes than you were 2 minutes ago. 

Suguru eyes flare open. The zipper on his suit pants nearly breaks. 

“Ohhh, my pretty girl.” 

His eyes violate every inch of your negligée. Lacy. Delicate. Riding the gentle dips and curves of your beautiful frame. Saliva pools in his mouth. You have no idea what he’s going—

“Eyes closed!” Your tiny palm can barely span his face. 

“Alright, alright.” Suguru hikes you further onto his hips. His rod thundering against his fabric. 

“Before you start, baby. Reach into my jacket pocket for me?” 

“What?” Suguru always loved how pretty you sound when you’re shocked. 

“Do it.” 

Your fingers scramble to follow his order. Always so compliant. His name, tangled with an airy little gasp escapes next. 

“Suguru Geto, what is this?!” 

Eyes still closed, Suguru flashes a mischievous grin. You’re so pretty when you’re stern with him. You punish (reward) him with a quick slap on his chest. 

Suguru pulls his lids open. He finds you holding 2 nearly identical boxes. A bigger one in the right, a demure one in the left. 

You’re flushed up to your ears and Suguru hasn’t ever seen a woman so beautiful. 

“What is this?” You probe again, eyes glossed over. 

Suguru gently works the smaller box out of your hand. 

“A present,” he plants a chaste kiss on your pouty little lips. 

“But it’s your birthday. And I wanted to surprise you. I saw this—“

“—silver analog watch with an indigo face and chrome bezel, I know baby.” Suguru’s lips find your flushed, warm cheeks. 

“Suguru…”

“So I got one for you too.” He opens the smaller box, just as you reveal his surprise. 

Yours is daintier. Scaled down to your small wrist. Both of your initials inscribed at the base of your watch. 

“Baby.”

Mist coats your eyes the way it does. The way your love coats him. In all places. All at once. Gentle. Refreshing.

A blessing. 

“You are the love of my life. In this lifetime and the next. Thank you for the birthday gift, sweet girl.”

                                 ——

GOJO

“Satoru, Jesus Chri—are you kidding me right now?” 

“What’s the matter, baby?” 

Your boyfriend was born with a silver spoon and a silver tongue. 

An expert at rolling, whipping and twisting words until they’re saltwater taffy. Sweet on the mouth. Sticky in reality. And at its worst, kryptonite to the person consuming them. 

As if he didn’t just steal the pink satin bow, from your head. And your hair falls in a slow cascade around your face. 

Satoru slides into the seat across the dinner table. Candlelight kissing his high cheekbones. Tonight makes it three years from the day he asked you to be his. 

Not that it matters, really. Because time crumbles to stardust around him. 

Every minute, every second with Satoru feels like the first. Your heart can’t tell the difference, and you’ve stopped trying to. 

A mischievous grin reaches his 10-carat diamond eyes. Razor sharp, and a reminder to everyone within a 1 mile radius that he’s not of this world. 

“You’re gorgeous.” Satoru toys with your hair tie. Deftly knotting it into a bow on his wrist — an egregious accessory next to his cuff links. 

“Save the pillow talk, Satoru!”

 “What?” He retorts, slinging his elbow over the back of his chair. Dangling his newest prized possession in your face. 

“Is it so bad that your boyfriend wants to feel close to you? You won’t let me sit next to you — I’m desperate.” 

You feign a gasp and lean over. Hushed because what you’re about to say is sacrilegious. 

“The Strongest Sorcerer in the modern era won’t survive sitting across from his girlfriend instead of next to her? Don’t let the bad guys hear that.” 

Bellowing laughter erupts. His base low and clear as an alpine lake. Your soprano a feather light harmony. 

Unbridled joy that is so unique to your relationship echoes throughout the dining room. Waiters and waitresses send fond smiles your way because the restaurant is dedicated to your celebration.

Satoru’s lips find the back of your hand. Embers from the candle catch the golden flecks of sunset in his Mediterranean Sea. Eyes with still waters, tonight.

He’s beautiful, your boy.

“Happy anniversary, princess.” 

“Happy anniversary, my love. I have something for you.”

 You glide your hand out of his grasp before he locks it in. Eyebrows already crawling to the center of his face. 

“I told you not to get—“

“Hush!” 

Always one to give, never one to receive, Satoru narrows his gaze. You know that look — he’s planning on tripling his retaliation gift. 

Satoru reluctantly takes the box out of your hands, while you watch on bated breath. 

His full lips hang open. Cotton candy dusting the tip of his nose, blooming to his ears. He’s never like this. Taken aback. Full of surprise.

Your full name tumbles out of his mouth. Almost foreign to your ears, but indulgent when coated in his rich, loving tone. 

Satoru pulls the leather bracelet out of the box. An infinity symbol woven in the center with your initials and his initials flanking either side. 

Before you get a chance to breathe again you’re standing in his arms. In the middle of the empty room. Face nearly eclipsed by his large hands.

“Baby,” Is all that escapes him before he crashes his lips onto yours. 

His tongue immediately begs for entry. Faint taste of mint chocolate ghosting your taste buds. 

It’s comforting. It’s dizzying. It’s Satoru.  

“L-let me explain the gift.” Panting out of his embrace. A light sheen already coating his eyes. He’s statuesque except for his thumbs that strum the apples of your cheeks. 

“Of course.”

“You’ll probably live forever, fighting demons and such—“

“Curses, baby. The demons are just personal.” He laughs. 

Satoru flashes another smile, but this one is blue. Melancholy in a way that tugs on your heart strings. You draw him in for a quick kiss. 

A mere bandaid on a lifetime of third degree burns.

“I know I’m not invincible like you and your friends. And you spend an inordinate amount of time dealing with the fact that I’m a Normie.” 

Satoru’s nose crinkles. “It’s not a crime to not see curses.” 

“I rather you not see them. I don’t want you subjected to that.” Grit in his voice and his eyes glaze over. You know that Satoru is watching gruesome memories on his mind’s big screen. 

“I know, handsome.”Your hand cups his face and he subconsciously unravels in it.  All but purring into your warmth. 

“But that doesn’t change the fact that the world needs you for far greater things than it needs me.” 

“Do not talk like—“

Your finger presses against his lips. Your boyfriend has a real habit of cutting you off and at this rate you two will never get to enjoy your dinner. 

A small chuckle escapes him. He’s sorry. And you continue.

“I got you that bracelet…because..” Suddenly shy under his undivided attention, you drop your gaze. Thumbing his new gift instead. 

You pause. He pauses. Everything around you halts.

Then it all tumbles out at once. 

“You’re it for me, Satoru. The One. Forever and always. In every life we’re reborn in, even if I can’t stick around as long as you can in this one.” 

Cheeks incinerated by your confession, you muster the courage to lock eyes with him once more. Nearly flat lined at what you see.

A crystal tear sliding down one side of his face. All of his sharp lines and angles, like melted butter. Mouth ajar. Moused. Imperfect. Like his heart is splayed open on his chest for the world to see. 

“Satoru…?”

Hearing his name jumpstarts his engine. Satoru lifts you into his arms and strides toward the exit in milliseconds. 

You toss your head back. Full of breathy giggles because this is the man you know and love. The modus operandi that made you fall so deeply for him in the first place. 

“Dinner! Baby our dinner!” You squeal a little too late, given that he’s 4 more long strides away from the door. 

“It’s taken care of. I’ll have them send it to the house.” Eyes straight ahead. A man on a special grade mission.

The two of you come to an abrupt stop just shy of the front door. Satoru rakes his glassy eyes over your flushed face.

“I would die for you. You know that, right?” His voice cracks. Actively staving off the flood threatening the rim of his eyes. 

“You and me…you know that I…I lo—, I’ve…you’re the only…fuck.” 

Satoru draws in a frustrated sigh. Tossing his head to the side. Hopeful that looking at anything else in the room would make this easier.

 “You know why I cant.. I can’t say it baby I—“

“I know, Satoru. I know.” 

‘Because love is the most twisted curse of all.’

And he believes that the moment it falls off his tongue, you’ll be taken from him. 

Your lover’s presence is grandiose. Demanding. Loud. Noticed from miles away. Earth shifted on its axis when he was born. 

A loan from Heaven’s stash. He’s a gift to mankind and your personal Moon.

But his love is the opposite.

Found only in quiet moments. Moments when his shield, breast plate and sword clamor against the hardwood floor after saving lives time and time again. 

When you wake up to him staring at you, caressing your cheeks. A gentle wake up call because he needs a kiss. A temporary reprieve from his nightmares. The demons that haunt him day in and day out.

When he comes home early from every single mission. Just to get back to where his heart is. 

His love is woven into your satin pillow cases, that hold his triumphs with students, his frustration from work, his regrets. 

His love is painted on walls of your apartment. The walls that could barely contain his grief. Wails loud enough to shift earth’s tectonic plates. That heard him scream in your arms. For months. All because he lost his first love at his own hands. 

His love glows under the moonlight. When he is buried deep inside you. Rambling about giving you a son first, then a daughter. Because he has to teach his boy to be strong. Strong enough to keep up with him. Strong enough to watch the world burn for his sister if it has to. 

Satoru Gojo is not soft, but he loves you softly. 

Another tear glides down his porcelain skin. Somewhat ashamed that he can’t swipe it way with his hands full of you, he flashes a lopsided smile. It makes his otherwise ethereal coalescence of features so boyish. Tangible. 

Human. 

Satoru presses a salty kiss against your lips. And it’s the sweetest he’s ever tasted. Pulling away briefly, to affirm you in a way that only he can.

“Infinity, baby?”

“Infinity, baby.”

[hungharrington]

Please send help im PLAGUED by thoughts of giving Steve the sloppy blowie of his life like him sitting on the sofa and being between his legs looking up at him with all the love of the world bc he deserves it!! he deserves to be loved!! and yes ofc i wanna get facefucked but yk it's about the sweetness!!! like looking up at him with teary eyes, smiling with ribbons of spit still connecting us, resting my cheek against his cock even though it's messy or precisely because it's messy, and just adoring him. Ik he'd have the orgasm of his life!! so overwhelmed by love and sweetness but also the intimacy and how hot he is <333

plagued fucking inDEED my god sorry this took absolute months my love so i hope u enjoy this! hoping 2 write a little more in next couple weeks so feel free 2 pop in my inbox! gn!reader, oral (steve receiving), luv <3 as always, MDNI this entire blog is 18+

There’s a tremble in his thighs.

Steve can’t help it, the muscles pulled taut as he tries his best to keep his hips from rolling forward. Your mouth is hot and glossy, lips stretched his cock, and Steve is in fucking heaven.

He can feel his chest flushing hot at the mere on sight of you on your knees before him. You look a dream, down to just your panties and bra in that colour that suits you so fucking well.

But it’s not that that has him feeling so unraveled so quickly. It’s the adoring look in your eye— peering up at him through your lashes, the faint teary eyed look, while his cock weighs heavy on your tongue.

You’ve been working him up for god knows how long, stroking and licking, aiming for that state you go crazy for; all whimpers and whines. He’s almost there, the buzzing lust the lingers under his skin dialling up and up.

“S-Shit, baby.” Steve curses, fingers in your hair tightening as you take him back down, your spit drooling down the length of him. Fire flares hot in his tummy. His hips buck up, searching for more heat to bury into and you take him gratefully. Steve groans, low and jaggedly.

“F-Fuck,” He says, the beginning of a whine sinking into his voice. “Oh, fuck— ngh— I can’t-”

His grip in your hair gets that little bit tighter and you can see the quiver in his thighs increase as he holds himself back from fucking into your mouth. It takes effort. You reward him with a soothing stroke up his thigh, a hand coming up to play with his balls.

It makes him whimper, sharp and high, and you can tell the thrust up of his hips is involuntary — Steve’s hushed and hurried murmured apologies as his hand strokes sweetly over your hair.

You pull off, your hand taking the place of your mouth quickly. You pump it quickly, slicking your thumb over the slit, spreading the precum the beads there over and over.

“S’okay, baby,” You say, voice low and sultry. “Didn’t mean it, I know. You know this is lovin’ time.”

You kiss down his cock between your words til you reach the base, giving one or two to the crease of his tan thigh. You nuzzle in, enjoying the way it makes him quiver. His tummy has tightened up and his cock twitches, his beautiful eyes hidden away from you as his scrunches his face up.

“Stevie,” You coo. You lick up the length of him and tease the tip of his cock with your tongue, your free hand soothing along his hairy thigh again. “Open your eyes f’me, please.”

He does as you ask, brown eyes peeking up. He’s positively flushed, cheeks scarlet and chest bearing that very shade. It rises and falls with his breath and his tummy rolls, clenching and unclenching as you see him hold back from fucking his hips up into your slow moving hand. You think you could watch him like this for hours.

“Good boy,” You praise, delighted in how a whine scrapes out his throat without warning.

“Just wanna say I love you,” You pout, hand on his cock increasing in speed, twisting and squeezing. Steve keens, his cock twitching violently in your hand and you have to push his hips back into the sofa with your spare hand to keep him still.

You lap at the head of his cock for a moment, kitten licks that drive him closer and closer to his edge. Whimpers fall freely from his lips.

“Love your cock,” you whisper, knowing he can hear you when you’re this close. The amount he’s leaking over your hand makes your motions loud and lewd, wet squelches as you pull him off. “Love making you feel good.”

“You do— christ, fuck, you make me f-feel so fucking good.” His breathes are all stuttering now, an indication of his rising climax.

You stretch your mouth around him again and moan at the feel of him, the salty precum dribbling from the head and the hardness that pulses against your tongue. His cock twitches in your mouth at the same time Steve cries out and throws his head back. His fingers flex tightly in your hair and a string of words fall out his mouth.

“I’m gonna— I’m gonna- oh fuck, aw fuck, baby— baby- mmfm, love you- I’m gonna—”

His hand flies to his mouth and he sinks his teeth into his knuckles, muffling the throaty groan he makes as his cum hits your tongue. You keep moving, suckling while your hand jerks him hard and fast, warm pulsating at your core as his moans melt into those whimpers and whines you adore. Poor baby, you think, because he always cums so much. You take it all, milking his orgasm and pulling every whimper and whine out as he shakes beneath you.

It takes another minute before he’s easing you off with a tug of your hair, breathless and looking fucking beautiful. You pull off and spit into your hand, wiping it on your thigh, just as out of breath as he. Still, you nuzzle closer and press a kiss to the inside of his thighs, then another, then another— til Steve’s urging you up as he leans down, his lips capturing your own.

[abiiors]

cannot stop thinking about stomach/thigh riding with Ross 🫠

well ever since i saw this photo right here, neither can i 🫠🫠🫠

it first happens because you haven't seen him in so long--a situation neither of you is too happy about but he has a tour to get through on another continent sandwiched between working on their next album and you have a highly demanding job that doesn't let you go frolicking on a world tour with your bf on a whim.

so you have to sustain yourself on phone sex and grainy video calls with terrible reception. it's almost like edging... but for 4 whole months. so much so that you practically leap onto each other the moment he gets home and sets his bags down.

the first kiss is a sweet "i missed you so much" kiss.

the second kiss turns you feral.

ross tugs at your bottom lip with his teeth until you hiss at the sting, somewhere halfway through the kiss you jump on him, legs wrapped tightly around his middle, cunt aching to feel him inside you, while he carries you to the bedroom and doesn't break the kiss even once.

you let your hands roam through his hair, pull at the hair tie holding it together and throw it away. it's been too long since you tugged on the strands, too long since you heard him groan. and that's exactly what he does, right into your mouth, sending heat flaring through your whole body.

"my fucking filthy girl, missed you so much," he mumbles and throws you on the bed. you slide down your shorts hastily while ross takes his shirt off. it's been way too long and you just need to feel him inside now.

the moment his shirt is off, your fingers freeze on the waistband of your underwear. your eyes widen and slowly trail over the expanse of his chest and stomach. he's-- this-- your jaw drops and you can practically feel yourself drooling at the sight of his toned stomach. the tattoos stark against his tanned skin.

this is a new development.

this is not what he looked like when you saw him four months ago.

his whole face changes with one small, knowing smirk. and ross gets on the bed, practically hovering over you while you look at him all wide-eyed and flustered.

"do you like what you see, sweet girl? is that why you've gone all shy on me?"

you nod, absolutely mesmerised, and it only fuels him more.

with his hand on your hips, ross pulls you onto him, flipping you both so he's on his back and you're on top of him, right on top of the abs you were ogling not even five seconds ago. ross moves to half sit up, balancing himself on his forearms and the movement makes his stomach flex right under your cunt. it sends a current running through your bones and you gasp.

"does that feel good, sweet girl? do you want to use me?" his voice has gone so low and deep and almost like a growl that you can't help but whimper out a choked "y-yes", and grind yourself on him in response. and ross encourages it too with his hands digging into your hips, helping you move back and forth.

"how about we take these off huh?" his fingers hook in your underwear, sliding them to your things and the thought of getting off of him, even for a second, is unbearable. but he makes quick work of it, slipping them past your ankles and lowering you on his stomach again.

this time you feel everything with so much intensity. the warmth of his skin send heat rushing through your blood and you press down on him, grinding on him like a bitch in heat. your fingers curl on his chest, long nail leaving crescent moon shaped marks on his skin. and ross never stops looking at you once while you figure out your rhythm.

if anything, his eyes take you in hungrily, roam all over your face taking in every small detail, every reaction--the way your face twists when he moves under you, the way your jaw goes slack when you press your clit against his stomach.

"look at you sweetheart, look so fucking beautiful using me like that," he purrs, hand snaking up your thigh till he's grabbing your ass. praise after praise tumbles out of his mouth and each one gets your higher than the last. your head spins from the blood running so fast through your veins. it's electric, using his stomach to get off like that while he just has to lie back and watch.

you rock your hips faster, well aware of your slick coating his skin now, but your eyes flutter shut and all you can see are bursts of stars behind your eyelids. pleasure shoots through you with each contact against your clit and his hands grip you even tighter.

"can feel you clenching around nothing, sweetheart, cum for me and i'll give you what you want. my good girl, my perfect girl." he murmurs low and his stomach flexes under you again.

all the praise has you tumbling over the edge and your head falls back as pleasure coils in your belly. god! it feels so good! for a second everything melts away and you dig your nails into his chest until he hisses but ross doesn't move away at all. doesn't try to stop you even once.

"ross..." you moan breathily once you fall onto his chest, face pressed into his collarbone and he hums. "i want...more. please..."

and of course, he doesn't need to be told a second time.

[thedisablednaturalist]

Tw for weight loss mention

The whole exercise will cure your disability thing is a fucking joke. Yes exercise is beneficial for your health, but only if you aren't already on shaky foundations. You need to be on a treatment plan that WORKS before going into the maintenance phase. You wouldn't do regular maintenance on a broken item, you'd work on getting it up and running first. And maybe it would even need specialized maintenance afterwards if it's especially fragile.

I have fibromyalgia and acute degenerative disc disease. My immune system attacks my nerves and discs in my spine are slowly calcifying and causing the bones to constrict and damage my nerves (i think thats how it works). I have days where it feels like my body is on fire from nerve pain and days where it feels like my spine is about to rip from my back. And days where I have both (like today!). I get numbness in my hands and feet. I have horrible migraines. I can no longer walk unaided more than maybe 5 minutes without severe pain. I have something wrong with my knees and hips but the doctors don't know what yet.

You'd think I live an obviously seditary lifestyle correct?

Hell no.

I walk aided on average 6 miles a day over difficult terrain OUTSIDE of regular activity almost everyday. My legs are muscular and strong. I get my heart rate up and a good sweat, like all the gym rats swear on. I am often doing physical labor such as weeding, digging, sample collecting, pruning trees etc.

I'm not saying this to make other disabled people feel bad or prove that they can do anything if they just tried harder. This is an extremely painful lifestyle I've chosen that takes a lot of lifestyle management AND BOUNDARIES to keep up with the work. I also have an extremely forgiving boss who is also physically disabled and knows what I'm going through (deciding between your passion and your health and having to do so each and every day) No one should ever be expected to do what I do. I'm not even sure if I should be doing this myself.

This is to prove that exercise? Has not cured me. My muscles are strong but still hurt as if they're broken and I have to take more breaks than my coworker. I am constantly getting out of breath and I flare up regularly if I'm not careful. I am in excellent physical condition outside of my disabilities. I go to different doctors several times a month to get checked out.

I previously went through a diet program and lost a lot of weight (basically starving myself and got off my depression meds which cause weight gain but are also the only ones that work) and guess what? That didn't do shit either!!! I still felt horrible!!! I've since gained back the weight anyway after switching to focusing on adding more nutrient dense foods than taking stuff away from my diet (also muscle weighs more than fat, and fat helps cushion my aching joints and spine).

The muscle doesn't do shit for my disabilities outside of maybe some stability. Exercising everyday doesn't make the pain go away. Without my medications and aids and nutrition plans and steroid injections and spinal adjustments and physical therapy (that takes my fibro and spine into account) and alternative work methods I WOULD NOT BE ABLE TO DO WHAT I DO. Exercise alone is like trying to make a car run with no oil. Yes it'll go but it'll get more and more damaged till it can't and will need its entire engine replaced!

And yet I see new doctors and they look at me and the first thing out of their mouths is do I exercise? I should try doing a little every day :) and then i fucking blow their minds when I tell them about my job. No longer can they use that fucking cop out on me. I've been through this rodeo. Ive tried their suggestions. If you are in pain and nothing is helping? Exercise ain't going to do SHIT. You need to get to a point where you can move without severe pain first (if that's even possible). Then and only then should you consider implementing regular exercise if you can. Also weight loss talk is a red flag and a cop out. They made me lose 50+ lbs before they would look into the reasons behind my pain. Weight loss did nothing for me and exacerbated my pain.

I am living proof that all that shit is a lie and a cop out. That is the point of this post. I cannot believe people with serious medical conditions are being forced to put their bodies through extreme duress just to be believed. You are not disabled because of laziness or because you sit a lot. Plenty of people live seditary lifestyles and do not live in constant excruciating pain (they may develop disabilities later in life due to this however, and should be doing preventative exercises to maintain their health)

Please, share my story with doctors. Use me as an example. I am proof that "exercise first treat later" does not work. I should not have had to wait years to have my pain validated. I'd rather hundreds of fakers get (what? A blood test? An MRI?) than one chronically ill person get told to try yoga and go away by a doctor.

[carmillatism]

hello! i hope this ask finds you well <3

i’m just looking for a bit of advice and i saw one of your posts about being disabled so i figured i might ask;

(to preface: i am not disabled) but sometimes my right hip does a weird thing and hurts for a bit on and off and i can’t really walk (my hips have always been weird - they pop really easily and hurt if i lay down on them for too long) and i was curious if you might have advice on how to deal with that? (though granted i don’t actually know what kind of physical disability you have so this might just be headed out into the aether)

(sorry if this is the wrong blog to ask!)

hello! sorry for getting back so late; i had school! and yes, you came to the right place! want to preface this with a disclaimer by saying i'm not a professional, and i recommend you talk with a doctor if possible. i also recommend doing your own research as i don't know you like you know you!

that aside, i have pots and hsd, both which cause me chronic pain. hsd, or hypermobikity spectrum disorder, causes me chronic joint pain. and good for you, my most common place of pain is in my hips, so i have a lot of experience with what your describing.

my biggest recommendation, other than talking with a doctor, is for you to try and stay off of it when it hurts. you can also apply heat or cold (with an ice pack, heating pad, etc.) to the area that hurts. that usually makes me feel better. i also recommend taking otc (over-the-counter) pain meds. take the dose it tells you to take, and that will usually help soothe the pain!

i also recommend that you keep your mind open to the idea that you could be disabled. if this pain is pretty common for you (as in it happens a couple times a week) and has lasted for at least 3 months with common occurrences, then it's considered chronic pain. if you have chronic pain, you are disabled. ofc i don't know you and can't say for certain! but keeping your mind open to the idea can help you more easily make that transition in the future if you are diagnosed with a disability or your symptoms become disabilitating.

i also recommend getting a cane if possible! canes help a lot with getting weight off of the leg that's hurting, thus allowing the pain to decrease. do not worry about "faking" being disabled. if you need a cane to lessen the pain you feel whilst walking or to support your walking, then use it! you would use your left (opposite of hurt leg) hand for the cane. you don't have to get one, of course, but they are a pretty cheap investment if you get them at a pharmacy or online, and they are extremely helpful.

but again, i can't recommend it anymore for you to see a medical professional. what you are describing sounds similar to my experiences with chronic pain, plus having pain flareups for seemingly no reason pretty consistently along with your hip feeling out of place or popping out of place, sounds like something to bring up to your doctor. based on the limited symptoms you gave, i recommend looking into heds, hypermobile ehlers-danlos syndromes (plus the other versions of eds), or hsd (which is what i have. both are hypermobility from a connective tissue disorder that causes a slew of symptoms, but a major one is joint instability and chronic pain. hsd is sort of a different part of the spectrum of eds, or just a different but similar disorder (scientists really don't know)).

some good medical websites that i use a lot for info on my own health as well as my medical science interst are the cleveland clinic, the nhs website, and mayo clinic. these have digestible pages of information about many different disorders and problems.

i also recommend keeping a list of your symptoms that don't seem entirely normal or healthy. also, keeping a journal of your pain flares and describing when and why it happens can help you track it and see if it worsens or gets better. i also recommend using these to look into possible disorders that you may have. advice given for any type of similar disorders with symptoms similar to yours (or that you might have) can greatly benefit you if you want more advice!

if you have any more questions you can dm me, use my ask box again, or ask someone else for another point of view! talking about it with many different people can give you many different and helpful perspectives that can help you figure out what's going on. i wish you all the best!

[curiosity-killed]

Betrayed by my friend, my boss, and my favorite dance teacher all separately telling me that I should be gentler with myself and let myself rest >:(

[bibblelevi]

Demon bf levi. "Come here. Sit on my lap and tell me what you want, Dove." Reader is weary and sore after a long day and requests he help her relax. Levi massages her body as a form of foreplay that leads to gentle but passionate sex 😇

A/N: Ahhhh I’m finally getting to the requests you guys sent in. Sorry for the lateness. Also, it’s been a while since I’ve sat down and wrote anything, so I’m a little rusty. Note that all my demon Levi blurbs are based-off the one shot I wrote a few months ago, so if some things are confusing, it’s probably touched on in the fic.

Demon! Levi Ackerman x fem! Reader

Prompt: “Come here. Sit on my lap and tell me what you want, ____.”

Warnings for demon! Levi, monsterfucking/demon-fucking, semi-toxic relationship(?), this is actually very romantic, mentions of past dacryphilia/crying

“Oh, it’s you,” you hum, hardly sparing him a glance. You already know it’s him by the weight of his footsteps. By his breathing. His unbearable silence. “It’s been a while. Well, only two months.”

“You know I can get easily caught up,” he says. His voice washes over you, and as much as you want to shut him out, you bend to him like a flimsy branch.

“Excuses.”

“Pardon me?”

“You’re pardoned.”

Levi raises his brows and ambles closer, but you pay his proximity no mind. You’re reordering the books on your shelves in alphabetical order, some of which are special editions he plucked from homes he passed through and realms he scoured.

“You’re lucky I’m in a good mood today,” he says, too close to your ear. Your breath hitches, but you pull away before his hands can find your waist. You busy yourself, again, with the shelves. “Otherwise that would’ve resulted in a punishment, you know.”

You click your tongue, “Everyday you’re gone is punishment enough. Your stupid little contract ensures that.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” You want to slap the growing smirk right from his mouth, but he would like the sting of it too much. So you simmer in your silent fury, nostrils flaring. “Were you good while I was away? You kept your hands—“ He gently cups your elbows and guides your arms to your sides. An obvious hardness presses against you from behind. He breathes in the familiar scent masked over your neck. “You kept your hands off of what’s mine, yes?”

You work your lower lip with your teeth, “Remind me, what exactly is yours, Levi?” 

“Oh, you know,” he murmurs. His hands squeeze your hips, then slide upwards until he’s groping your breasts. His thumbs pinch down on your nipples through your thin shirt, and they immediately peak to attention. Heat blooms between your legs. “These.”

“Only those?”

A breathless, tainted little laugh fans your nap, and his hands slide back down. He cups you fully through your shorts, pressing into your clit with flattened, strong fingers. Your head falls into the crook of his neck and you dry-swallow your annoyance.

Okay, fine. Fuck.

“And this, of course. You know I don’t like it when you entertain yourself while I’m away.”

“You know I don’t like it when you’re away, period,” you snap. You find the willpower to shove him off you and walk briskly into the kitchen.

You shove your hands under the sink, scrubbing the dirt and dust from your nails. Levi leans against the doorframe and folds his arms, eyes flitting up and down, freshening the image of you in his mind that, no matter how long it’s been since he has seen you, never seems to dull (for whatever reason…). To a human, a month is a somewhat long feat. To him, it’s the blink of an eye—until he sees you. Then it’s like time is just some abstract thing with no name and no particular meaning. With you, everything just is.

“It wasn’t intentional,” he says, and he means it. If he could spend every moment with you, eyes open, eyes shut, he would. It would not take even a moment of his consideration. But he can’t. He’s inevitably bound to his circumstance. “It never is.”

“Right. You just get caught up. So caught up that you can’t respond to any of my letters.”

“Letters?”

“Yes, Levi. Letters. You know, where I pour out my heart and soul and weep ink onto parchment, bitching about how much I wish you were here.”

“I never received any letters from you. If I did, I would write back. Of course I would write back.”

“Yeah, right.”

“I would. I don’t know why I didn’t receive them. What else did they say?”

“I don’t remember,” you lie, drying your hands. “Maybe something about liking you despite your mediocrity.”

“Oh, well. That’s awfully sweet of you to say, dove,” he replies, and he sounds so serious that it makes you snort. “Very human of you, too.”

“Isn’t it?”

You brush past him back into the connected living room, and he follows slowly and sets himself on the couch. For a while, he watches you, not saying anything. Then he smells it on you.

“Come here,” you can hear the raw begging in his voice he tries to hide. You look over your shoulder, the soft tapping of his palm on his thigh making your breath catch. “Sit on my lap and tell me what you want, dove.”

You try and fail to hide the longing in your eyes. It’s impossible. Like a pet, you flock towards him and that enticing thigh, and you sit yourself down. One warm hand rests on your outer thigh while the other splays itself over your back. You tuck your cheek into his chest and inhale the smell of him.

The moment his chin and mouth nestle into your hair, you know you’re a goner. Anything he wants, he’ll get, and you’ll give it. Damn him to hell.

“I want a kiss,” you whisper, blinking up at him.

He tilts his head, and that hand on your back moves upward until he’s cradling your head. His mouth hovers over yours. “Just a kiss?”

You nod weakly, “For now.”

A flicker of a smile tugs at his pretty mouth, and you let him hold you as he kisses you soft. His lips move gently over yours, inviting you to set the pace, and you decide you don’t want it rough or fast or hard. You want precious time to feel every inch of him you’ve missed, and you want to feel it with your whole body.

His lips are warm, softer than the luxurious silk he insists you use on your pillow cases. Softer than the petals of the violets you grow in your garden that never wilt because an “inconsequential” wave of his hand. It only makes sense that someone doomed to live forever would always feel and taste beautiful as to not fade with the times.

You pull away, buzzing in your chest and stomach, and he looks at you through his lower lashes, unable to put a finger on why his heart is pounding in his throat. It’s some strange phenomenon that occurs when he’s with you and only you, like he’s sick or scared.

“Anything else?” he croaks out.

You reach up and play with the loose buttons on his shirt. “I’ve been doing a lot of lifting and gardening today,” you say as you press a soft kiss to his neck. “Will you rub the knots out of my shoulders?”

“Yes.”

You take his hand and lead him into your bedroom, a tiny room with a slanted, triangle-shaped ceiling and tall, cracked windows built into one plain wall. Sheer curtains blow in the breeze, lowering the temperature in the room. The two of you slide in the creaky bed on a cloud of floral bedsheets and pillows, and you turn your back to him.

He helps lift the button-up off your body and wets his lips. Your bare back is empty of marks and bruises—something he wants to remedy immediately. But then, that would be the opposite of what you want: comfort, rather than a reminder.

You sprawl on your stomach, and he doesn’t waste a second, starting at your shoulders. You exhale as he kneads the tension from your body with a few squeezes.

“What the hell have you been lifting to get yourself like this? I told you, you need to take more salt baths with—“

“Levi, it’s fine,” you assure, reaching back to pat whatever part of him is close enough. “Just keep hitting that spot—fuck.”

His thumb digs into a tight knot, and you groan, wincing at his probing. He grants a small reprieve by rubbing his palms over your shoulder blades, then he descends. The pads of his fingers melt into your skin, and he drapes himself over you in a somewhat protective stance.

His thumbs tickle the base of your spine—your tailbone—as his breath fans over your middle back.

“You don’t need a massage,” he whispers. He hooks his fingers under the band of your loose shorts and panties and slowly pulls both them down. A dull throb attacks, worsened by the kiss of cool air. “You need a good fucking, sweetheart.”

A chaste kiss lands on the bump of your vertebrae, then he fondles your ass, down to the backs of your thighs. He parts you open for the taking, ‘mmn’-ing in satisfaction.

“I’m too tired to do much,” you murmur into the crook of your arm.

“You don’t have to do a thing,” he says as he traces your slit. Your body shudders in response. “Just lay there and hold nothing back.”

You nod, and he busies himself between your legs. His hands brace themselves on your thighs as he laps up your slick with kitten-like strokes. A wanton moan vibrates your sex and coaxes a shy whimper from your throat, the searing hot pad of his tongue painting white behind your lids. Two months without Levi’s mouth is two months too long, you digress.

He flicks your clit and gets you close before he gently flips you onto your back. Through half-lidded eyes, you watch him and level with the strange softness in his gaze that makes you fuzzy and blurry in your head. His cheeks are rosy, sweat-ridden on the highest parts of his cheekbones, and his lips are cast in a sheen of saliva and slick.

“Hi,” you sigh when your eyes meet again.

He trails his palm up your torso and gropes your breast, then he cradles your jaw. “Hi.”

You think this is the first time you’ve been intimate like this since you first met. No dynamics, no titles. No toys (that frankly, look like medieval torture devices), rewards, or punishments. You’re just two people having sex, when Levi is quite literally the furthest from a “person” as you can get. Whether it means anything or not, you don’t know. You tell yourself not to read much into it, because everything about Levi is predictable. He leaves for months, you agonize over his absence; he returns unannounced and undresses you with his eyes; you lay down and take what he gives you because it feels so fucking good every time.

He braces a hand on the headboard and snakes one down your stomach, until two fingertips are working your clit, bringing you right to the edge. He opens your body up and uses your wetness to make everything feel white-hot and perfect, then he uses the same hand to free himself from his pants.

Usually, he would spend longer playing. He likes the imagery of you coming apart, sobbing your eyes out because of how desperate you are. Your face is pretty when it’s as wet as your cunt, and when it gets scrunched then goes slack from the sheer power of your climax. Probably because he’s thinking: I did that to her. I made her feel so fucking good she cried.

But not now. He’s frenzied and impatient, but you open your thighs further and press your feet together, until your legs are butterflied. A breathy, higher-pitched sound flutters from his lips as he pushes into your cunt, satiating that two-month long hunger.

“You always… take me so well,” he moans.

You hurry to untuck his shirt and tear it over his head so you can grab his naked arms and the soft muscle on his stomach. You’re greedy like that.

He slowly rocks into you, filling you and angling himself just right until he’s grating against that sensitive spot. Your head falls back, mouth gaped and skin dewy with sweat. His hair falls in front of his eyes, obscuring the vulnerability, while you lay their bare, exposed nerve-endings and all. He said not to hold back anything, so you don’t. You moan his name.

He doesn’t say much, but that just means his breathing is louder and his bitten-back noises are raspier. Your fingers trace the grooves in his ribs while he braces one hand on your hip and the other on the headboard. The leverage helps him slam in harder, hit you deeper, until eventually, you’re too close to hold out any longer.

“Levi, fuck, can I—“

“Yes. Cum,” he gasps into your open mouth, and you do.

You clamp down on him as you climax, your body shaking. Your nails leave marks in his skin that will disappear by the time you’ve caught your breath.

As his cock pistons in and out, pumping you through your release, a throaty noise travels from his mouth into yours.

“Levi!” you whine against his lips.

“It’s okay. You’re doing good. Almost there,” he pants, then moans again.

The overstimulation is painfully sweet, and your face screws. Your cunt squelches as you take him deeper until finally, warmth spills into you, his release coating your walls. It seeps out and some smears over your inner thighs.

He kisses you through his sloppy thrusts and loses his rhythm, his hand lifting from your hip to cradle your cheek. Those fingertips graze you with a glass-like tenderness.

“Good?” he asks.

You nod, scratching his thigh. “Mm-hm.”

He goes to pull himself from you, but your sudden grip makes him pause.

“No. Stay inside,” you demand. You crane your neck, searching for his mouth. A pair of pillowy lips eases you back into the comfort of your bed.

“Okay.”

“And stay longer than a few days this time.”

“Okay.”

Your finger draws a line down his Adam’s apple, and you find his eyes, melting under the weight of his simmering gaze. “Stay the month.

He smooths your hair down. “Okay.”

[drazzilder]

Control

By Drazzilder 

Endeavor x Male Reader

R18+

An Anonymous request:

“Could i request an enji x male reader.

Maybe its during his redemption arc and the reader hates to see enji so down and depressed as apposed to his normal confident and loud self so the reader treats him to a nice date night where he lets enji take full control.

Rough sex, reader is a bottom, anal or oral, up to you. Some fluff date stuff before hand.”

Endeavor hasn’t been himself lately. The big man has been very solemn and quiet. He is a man of few words to begin with but now he barely says a word, mostly just grumbles. The other sidekicks notice this as well but all are too afraid to anything about it. You can’t help yourself and try to help him out.

Today he is in his office and the door is cracked open. Your curiosity is at a peak when you tip toe to the door and listen. The hero is speaking but it seems to be only to himself. You can barely make out the words but you manage to make out most of it.

“Why do I keep seeing the same dream?….Why am I never there?….I hurt them all so much…. Is having them move out the right thing to do?.... They deserve to be happy…” Endeavor starts to trail off as his words become more mumbled. All you know is that he is down, something is up and you wanted to find out. You don’t even bother to knock as you open the massive door. Endeavor doesn’t even look up from his desk when you slam your hands down on his desk.

The man sounds like he had to force out the word “Hello.” You don’t have to look at his face to know there isn’t an ounce of emotion showing.

“Endeavor! How have you been?” You say with an exaggerated tone, trying to brighten his mood; however, this seems to cause the opposite. When he looks up, you swear that he could kill with that look. You guess that maybe that wasn’t the best way to start so you try again.

“Sorry to be so over the top, I’m just really excited to go to this new restaurant in Tokyo! The wait list is 6 months to just get int but a friend of mine had to cancel so he gave me his spot.” Looking back at Endeavor, his face now goes back to a blank stare.

“That is nice of your friend.”

“The problem is that it is a reservation for two and I have no one to go with. I didn’t want the second seat to go to waste and eating by yourself is so lonely. I was wondering if you wanted to come.”

Those words made his nose flare and smoke come out of his nostrils. “Why should I go with you?”

“Lighten up. I just wanted to know if you wanted to come. You are away working so hard and you seem down lately. Maybe some time away from home could be good for you.”

The man sits there a moment in silence. You are starting to worry you might be fired for asking him to come to dinner with you but you are shocked when he finally speaks. “Very well. Where and when.”

“REALLY?!.... I mean meet me at the train station at 5, dinner is at 6.”

The hero goes back to look down at his desk which signals you to leave. You close the door and lean against it and sigh. Maybe you can find out what’s going on and maybe help him. You then stand back up and finish your day at the agency. After running home and changing, you meet the man himself at the train stations. He is in a full suit; you are just wearing a nice shirt and kakis. The train ride couldn’t be more tense, he never said a word as he followed you on and off the train. At the restaurant, you are greeted by a gentleman in a nice suit and seated immediately in a private corner. After the waiter takes your order, Endeavor just sits looking depressed.

“You haven’t said a word all evening, something has got to be on your mind.”

Endeavors gaze now turns into a harsh stare as he responds “It is none of your business!”

“Well, I finally got a word out of you.”

“What?”

“I’m just trying to see why you are acting different.”

“I’m fine.”

“I don’t think you are.”

The man just stares blankly as you before looking down. “I-I shouldn’t be here. I’m sorry.”

He is about to leave but you grab his hand. “Endeavor, wait!”

He pulls his hand away and glares “Why do you want me to stay?”

“I heard you in your office.”  

His nostrils flare and his face now only shows anger. “You were spying on me?!?” He says much louder than he wanted.

“I didn’t mean to but you sounded like you are hurting.”

“You know I should fire you that.”

“I know but it is only because I care. You have been down recently and I heard you talking, I couldn’t help myself to try to figure out what is wrong.”

Endeavor sighs “How much did you hear?”

“Enough.”

He looks down and speaks under his breath: “This isn’t your problem.”

“But I might be able to help. You can tell me.”

He sits down and begins to tell you all about his family: how he hurt them, why they are gone, why he is living alone. He is trying so hard to atone his mistakes but he forgetting about himself. He has been alone for a few months and it’s hitting him hard.

“I guess that is everything….”

“I see.”

“Is that all you have to say?”

“Give me a second, it’s a lot to process…. It sounds like you are willing to change to help your family heal and be better. The only problem is you are forgetting something: yourself.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that you need to heal as well.”

“I am fine.”

“Look at yourself, the man you used to be was so full of life, loud and boisterous but now you are in a slump. You hardly spoke all day even when prompted.”

“Oh.” He just tilts his head down after his response.

“It’s ok that you are feeling guilty but you need to help yourself too. I bet you can’t even look at yourself in the mirror easily. I have an idea that might help after dinner. Are you willing to try?”

“If it will help me, then yes.”

“I think it might.” The dinner was delicious, no wonder it had a 6-month waiting list, it was the best food you ever had. You finished the meal with Endeavors favorite, kuzumochi, to try to cheer him up more. Soon, you are both back on the train and headed home. However, Endeavor follows you instead of heading back to his home. You arrive at your apparent and close the door behind him.

“What now?” The large man questions while standing in the middle of the living room.

“Sit down while I get something.”

Endeavor finds his way to the couch and waits for what feels like forever. He is about to get up and leave when he hears you coming back to the room. You are now only wearing a thong and begin to approach him.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!?” He starts to crawl backwards into the couch but can’t go any further.

“Helping you….”

“How is this going to help me?!”

“Your life has gone out of control recently, maybe you need to take control of something again.”

“What?”

“Take control and do what you want with me.” You say as you begin to sit down in his lap. He looks at you in complete shock as he stares unblinking.

“You are a man, my sidekick, I can’t possibly- “

You interrupt him by placing a finger on his lips. “Don’t think about that, just let go. It already looks like your body is responding.” You look down to see a large budge forming in his slacks. You look back up and see something is different; his eyes look almost glazed over. He pushes you off and you are afraid he is going to leave but he just takes off his jacket and grabs your face. He almost drags you off your feet has he begins kissing you all over your face. At first, they are gentle but then more and more forceful until your lips meet. Then he starts to push in full force with his tongue. The sweet flavor of the kuzumochi is still all over his mouth as he assaults you with his lips. You feel his arms go down to your chest and hold you tight has he lifts you up.

“Ooof” is all that comes out of your mouth when he slams the both of you on the couch, still kissing you. You lay under him for a moment until he stands up. The look in his eyes have changed again, almost looking primal as he starts to rip his shirt and slacks off. Now just in his underwear, you see that he is fully hard and large. You can’t help yourself and tease him seeing the number one here like this. “Looks like someone is excited. What are you going to do to me?” You finish your sentence with a wink.

The hero responds by grabbing your arms and flinging you over his shoulder. “Just shut up and do as your told.” He carries you to your bedroom. You are slammed down again and you look up to see the Endeavor has flames on his face. “My sidekick has been very naughty today spying on his boss? What would a good punishment be?”

“Oh, I’m sorry~” you reply back in a sarcastic tone.”

He grabs your ankles and flips you over. “I think a few good spanks should do….” Endeavor doesn’t even bother to finish his sentence when you feel his massive hand hit your rear end hard. You can’t help but moan in a mixture of pain and pleasure as he continues to spank you. By the 6th time, you are at your limit and tears are running down you face. You feel him grab your legs again and flip you over.

“I thought spanking was supposed to be a punishment?” He says with a smirk. You look down and notice you are now full hard. “I guess we should take care of this.” The big man grins and he takes a finger under your thong and rips it easily. Once exposed, you feel his hand grasp you, fully engulfing your member with the size of his hand. He starts pumping up and down as you start moaning again. You try to match his pace with your hips but he uses his other hand to hold you down. He must sense you are close again as he stops. “Not yet, you still need to be punished properly.”  Moving to the nightstand, he grabs a bottle of lotion and starts to pull down his underwear. You could tell he was big but seeing it fully in person was something else. He starts to rub lotion all over his cock and approaches the end of the bed with an evil grin.

“You are going to take all of this.” Is all he says as he lifts your legs. You feel his tip start to push into you. You slam your head back on the bed as he starts to going further inside, his girth is way beyond anything you had to handle before. It isn’t long before it gets everything inside of you but you can barely breath from the feeling. He then starts to move again, this time out. He almost pulls out completely before going full speed into you, his hips practically spanking you with the speed they are moving. You start to feel his hands getting hot on your thighs as he starts to get into it more. Endeavor is too into his own world to notice you already came but you can’t tell him even if you wanted to.

“You are such a naughty sidekick!” The motions are starting to intense as he starts to literally steam up the room with his sweat. Your body has gone limp from all of the thrusts but Endeavor is too busy to notice. Between the name calling and speed of the thrusts, you could tell he is getting close. Right before the big man climaxes, he just yells “You are going to take all of my cum!” His huge cock pumps semen deep inside of you, it’s so hot it almost feels like it is burning your insides. You do your best but the amount overwhelms you and some does leak out. He keeps up his motions as the twitching starts to slow. He finally stops after what feels like an eternity. Once Endeavor pulls out, yours legs flop down.

“Are you going to clean this up?” The hero almost demands as he is standing above you.

“I would but I can’t feel my legs right now. I will later if that’s ok?”

“It will have to do.” Endeavor then gets into the bed next to you. He shifts the both of you to the top and places the covers over you both. It isn’t long before you fall asleep in the man’s grip. You wake up the next morning in the bed alone, only the sound of a shower indicates that someone else is home. The shower stops and the door opens.

“Good morning.” He walks out in only a towel.

“I… I am sorry about last night.”

“I am off to get ready for work, you should do the same.” Is all he says as he gets dressed and walks out the door. You just quietly get up and get ready for the day. It isn’t long till you find yourself at the agency. However, the quiet that has taken over the agency recently is now replaced with the yells and demands of the number one hero once again. Nothing mean, just being a good leader and hero.

“What’s going on?” You ask a fellow sidekick.

“I don’t know but what ever happened, he seems to finally be himself again. He does seem less harsh now.” Is all she says before she rushes off. When he sees you walk in, Endeavor tells you in his loud voice to quickly get to work and check your patrol area.

“I guess he is going to pretend that nothing happened.” Is all that goes through your head as you log onto the computer. When you get your schedule, you see that you are working with Endeavor today, alone; something that never happens. You look up and see the hero walk past you with the same look in his eyes that you saw last night. You don’t know what is in plan for today but you can’t wait to find out.

[tteokdoroki]

Taro tea title game request.

So, I know I've sent you two things recently and one for your 3k event already (congrats on that btw!) So feel free to ignore/skip this or the other but, I have a scenario, not really sure if you'd wanna write the beginning, ending or anything but feel free to be creative and go where your inspiration takes you.

So, I have to believe being Kiri's girlfriend means he brags/shows off anything he like/love/remotely enjoys about you with anyone and everyone who will listen to him. Not in a 'look at what I have you fucking losers' kind of way but rather in a 'i fucking love my girlfriend and love sharing how amazing she is' kind of way.

I feel like kiri being kiri also has no trouble sharing even things about your sex lives (unless you say you're not ok with that). Which leads me to the kinda kinky but also super hot (at least to me) mess.

So one day he's having a guys night or something so Sero, Bakugou and Denki are over. They get on the topic of sex and stuff and somehow squirting comes up and Kiri is just like "yea, y/n does that. It's super hot." Que the group, except bakugou, who already know about this and has probably seen it cause he and Kiri are just that close being like wow that's hot and amazing.

Now at this moment you happen to stroll through the room cause you're hiding out in the bedroom so they can have guy time but you needed a snack or something. And a lightbulb goes off in Kiri's head. He loves showing you off.

One thing leads to another, and there you are on his lap, with him giving a demonstration of you *talents* with three sets of eyes taking in every detail to permanently etch it into their memories.

(this is all under the presumption that you are a consenting participant and all on lookers are either single or have an understanding with their S/O)

Hope you don't mind me sending this and once again no biggie if it's not something you wanna write! Love you and your content and don't wanna demand anything! 🦊

taro title: wide open + beginning.

tteokdoroki teaparty event masterpost!!!

♡ pairing: eijirou kirishima x fem!reader.

♡ genre: mdni, 18+, smut.

♡ summary: eijirou gives his friends a demonstration on how to make their girl squirt and you are the test subject.

♡ warning(s): heavy smut, squirting, exhibitionism, male masturbation, fingering ( female receiving ), pussy slaps :]

♡ author’s note(s): reee don’t worry about the number of requests darling !! i want to do as many as i can to give back to everyone 🥺 GOT A BIT CARRIED AWAY BUT anyways i hope you enjoy this one !!

in all honesty, you weren’t to sure how you ended up in this situation. one moment, you were headed downstairs to grab a quick drink during your study break; the next you were plastered against your boyfriend’s firm chest— his large hand between your thighs as he spreads you out for all his friends to see.

one a month, eijirou invited his old college buddies over for guys night— a lot of them lead busy lives now and your boyfriend never asked for much, it was the least you could do to open up your home to his friends. for the most part, they were all nice guys, bakugou you had known the longest and he was much like a brother to you whilst you’d met kaminari and sero at your boyfriend’s college reunion. you never really sat in on the guys nights, keeping to yourself in your shared bedroom. occasionally when you popped out you’d be able to hear their topics of conversation.

tonight, just so happened to be about squirting.“oh yeah, my pretty girl squirts for me all the time.” eijirou hums proudly, taking a sip from his beer with a smirk as two of three out his friends hoot wildly. bakugou might have seen one or two things in the past, but the others believed you were completely innocent in bed due to your naturally quiet aura and personality. “it’s pretty cute, actually.”

and thats how you end up in your current predicament. your body flares with heat as three sets of eyes watch your movements eagerly— from the drastic rise and fall of your chest to the rapid, slick movement between your shaky legs. “c’mon now angel, feel your thighs tryna close around my hand— keep em wide open for me... so we can put on a show for them baby...” you look up to kirishima with tear stricken eyes, his hand never stopping as his thumb swipes vigorously against your clit. pressing two fingers against your entrance, you whine and search for the comfort in his ruby eyes.

you know that kirishima would never do anything to put you at risk, your comfort was always his top priory in the a scene like this and his only rules were that you listened and behaved well for him. with laboured breathing, your hole spasms around the digits that stretch you wide open and spread your arousal across your puffy folds. “yes, daddy,” comes your vulnerable smile as you relax your thighs that straddle your boyfriend’s. pride flashes across his face and he relents in curling his fingers to press down on your spongy g-spot. a reward for his good girl.

“she calls you daddy?” sero asks, succeeding in capturing your attention. your gaze trails down the man, his lean figure practically hanging off of his seat to catch sight of your cunt. eijirou had made sure to show you off nicely, shredding your cotton shorts and forcing your panties to the side in order to put your glistening hole on display. he’d rip your panties off later if he needed more room. either of your legs are hooked around his own, so if he spread his legs with you in his lap— he could help your flower blossom.

eijirou nods to his friend, free hand sliding up your flimsy camisole to expose your breasts before he pinches at the pebbled nipple. “the key to getting her to squirt isn’t just the way you touch her, but the way you talk and handle her as well. she trusts that i’ll take care of her as her daddy, right baby?” the way the red head and is friends discuss you as if you’re not even there makes your heat spasm— the sight alone earning groans from all three men, noises that you admit you want to hear more of.

“mmhm,” is all you manage to whimper out.

kaminari speaks next, amber eyes locking with yours. “fuck that’s cute, your lil cunt gonna squirt from the way daddy talks to you?” the blonde chuckles, forcing you to watch as his own hand slides beneath his pants to relieve the hard on thats formed from watching you. it doesn’t take you long to realise that all three men have been fisting their cocks to you. you almost nod your head in agreement.

a growl of possession rumbles in kirishima’s chest, the vibrations going straight to your pussy and adding pressure to the unwinding knot of your orgasm. he delivers a harsh spank to your folds, euphoria clogging your brain and clouding your vision as you cry out for him. “look at me,” kirishima snarls into your ear, laughing lowly as you gyrate your hips into the heal of his palm to earn friction against your clit. you glance up; a dark look you’ve seen oh so many times before. “why don’t you squirt for them baby? and after that, daddy’s gonna make them practice what they’ve learned on you, how does that sound?”

your body shakes and you can see the peak of your release on the horizon. you’d be a fool to say no to that.

[pepper-up-potion]

Humor me (George Weasley x fem!reader)

Summary: Reader can't stand George Weasley but over time she realizes he might be a good addition to her life.

Warnings: crying, angst, let me know if I missed any.

Word count: 5.5k (this is my longest fic so far!)

A/n: I still don't know how to feel about this. A part of me likes it and a part of me feels it could be better. This is my first enemies to lovers and it was very very fun.

———

“Thanks (y/n)! I can always count on you, you’re a lifesaver.” Shouts Neville as he runs down the hall and towards his next class. (Y/n) had helped him put healing salve and a bandage on his cut hand.

“Anytime!” She smiles as she watches him stumble away. She pulls out her book and sits back down on the windowsill.

“Humour me.” Says a foreign voice.

She looks up frowning. “I’m sorry?” She asks politely.

“When was the last time you did something for yourself?” Asks the red-haired boy.

“What are you talking about? I’m doing that right now.” She points to her book: Charms for first years

“That’s weird because I could’ve sworn you were in my charms class and not in first year.” He argues, shoving his hand in his pockets and clicking his tongue.

“Well I’m helping out a first-year next period but I enjoy doing that so I am doing something for myself.” She explains, slightly irritated.

“You can’t be serious?” He waits but she offers no response. She only lifts her nose at him. “That is not taking time for yourself. That’s preparing to help someone else.”

Her nostrils flare as she abruptly snaps her books shut. She shoves it into her bag before swinging it over her shoulder. She steps towards George. She suddenly realizes how tall he is. She gulps before placing a hand on her hip and pointing a finger at him.

“Listen here, helping other people is a very noble thing and if I wish to spend my free time doing that, I should not have to explain myself.”

“Ah, so you admit that you spend your free time helping other people rather than doing something for yourself?”

George smirks at her and she wants to slap it off his stupid pretty face.

“Wha-? No.” She huffs. “I don’t know why I’m arguing this with someone I hardly know but what I mean to say is that yes, it’s demanding and tedious but it’s also rewarding and the most gratifying thing I could ever do, so I believe I am doing something for myself. You just don’t get it because you spend all your time playing stupid pranks on everyone.” She snaps before pulling the strap of her bag further onto her shoulder and walking away. Normally she would feel bad for saying something like that to someone but for some reason she felt George could take it.

“So when will I see you again?” George shouts down the hall.

“I have to go!” She shouts back.

“I’ll see you in class then. Or maybe in the halls again.” He continues.

“Goodbye!” She turns the corner and speeds as far away from George as possible, steam practically fuming from her ears.

———

“Hey (y/n) could I just copy your homework before class? I didn’t have time to do it what with quidditch practice and all.” Asks Angelina.

(Y/n) nods and pulls out her answers, stands and walks to her seat, passing them to her. As (y/n) walks back she sees George slide into the spot next to hers. She grunts before stomping to her seat.

“ ‘Morning.” He sings, kicking his feet on the desk. She rolls her eyes and pushes his feet off, offering no other greeting. Now this is saying something, (y/n) always greets everybody. He laughs a little before turning to his bag and pulling out his textbook.

“Ark, couldn’t you go sit somewhere else?” She asks with a look of disgust.

George shrugs his shoulders. “Yeah, I could, but I’d like to think we’d make a good team and I’d like to test that theory.” He waves a pointed index as if to emphasize his point.

She shudders at the thought of having to work with him. It’s very likely they will, it often happens in potions class. (Y/n) is at the top of the class and she doubts Snape would have any objection to George working with her since she could easily bring up his grade. She sighs as Snape walks in and starts the lecture portion of the class.

“You will have the remaining hour to make your hiccoughing solution. Work with the person next to you.” With a wave of his arms everyone starts opening their textbook and discussing the potion.

To her surprise, George is really good at potions. Logically it makes sense because him and Fred are always creating new things but she never really thought it transferable to school. She watches, a little stunned as George quickly and skillfully goes through the steps of the potion. For the first time since she can last remember, she sits back instead of running the group. George occasionally asks her to cut something or extract oil from a root. She doesn’t argue, it’s sort of nice being told what to do rather than making all the decisions. She doesn’t tell him and refuses to think more of it because that’s not her proper role. She’s the leader, she’s the helper. Maybe this once she’ll let it slide, give herself a break.

Once the bell rings they gather their books and George finally speaks of other things than the potion.

“Relaxing isn’t it?” She tilts her head in confusion. “Not having to take care of others for once.” He continues.

Oh no he didn’t. He just ruined it. He took her small guilty moment of peace and crushed it. “You hardly let me do anything! What was I supposed to do? Fight you?”

George shrugs. “You could’ve.” He winks at her and she lets out an angry moan.

“Ark!” She turns on her heels and walks out of the class without another word.

“Same time next week?” She hears him shout but she’s already in the hallway and simply ignores him.

———

“You know you could give that to a house-elf and they could take care of that for you.” Says George as he leans into the door frame and watches (y/n) clean the chalkboard in the defence against the dark arts classroom.

“Well I don’t need to be taken care of, I’m perfectly capable of doing things on my own thank you very much” she spits back at him.

George and her are acquaintances at best. It’s been a month since they’ve first spoken to each other. Since then he seems to always be around her. Sitting next to her in class, offering to help her with her books in the hall. She’s never asked for him to be there or to share his opinion. Yet he’s there and very verbal about his thoughts.

He steps into the class and sits in the front row. He bounces his leg under the desk and leans back into the chair. He looks nervous but she can tell he’s trying to cover it up.

“What are you doing here?” She asks, curiosity getting the best of her.

“Waiting for Umbridge.” He points up the stairs at the closed door of her office. “I got detention.” He adds.

“What did you do?” She stops cleaning the board and sets the cleaning potion on the desk next to George.

“Gave a ton tongue toffee to Filch. His tongue was four feet long when Umbridge found him.” He chuckles to himself, remembering Umbridge’s reaction.

For the first time ever, (y/n) laughs in front of George. She tries to hold it in but it slips past her. George first looks surprised but soon he’s laughing with her.

“Glad to see someone is standing up to them.” She shakes her head. “Umbridge really is a horrible person. I can't believe all the mean things she’s doing to the students.” Her face is sad. George can see how much she cares for the other students.

“Well, would you look at that? We actually agree on something.” He crosses his arms and smirks at her. “Does this mean we're friends?” He asks.

She barks out a loud laugh. “Don’t get ahead of yourself Weasley.” She grabs her bag and walks out without another word. She can feel George’s gaze following her until she steps into the hall and out of sight. She wonders why her cheeks feel so hot suddenly.

———

(Y/n) is tutoring Seamus Finnigan in the library. They’re whispering over a book when George spots them. He smiles and beelines for their table.

“Mind if I sit here.” He asks, holding onto the chair in front of them. They both look up at him. Seamus smiles and reaches out his hand for a fist bump. (Y/n) rolls her eyes and sticks her tongue out.

“Yeah mate, it’s no problem.” Says Seamus.

“No, you may not. It is very much a problem.” She hisses. Seamus looks at her, shocked by the bitterness in her voice.

“Blimey (y/n), I’ve never heard you so angry before.” He stuns.

She laughs nervously. He’s right, she normally doesn’t talk to people like that. The only exception to the rule is George. She grits her teeth and pastes a smile before looking at George.

“Of course you can sit here George. Any friend of Seamus is a friend of mine.” She somehow manages to sound sweet and somewhat sincere. George raises his eyebrows in surprise. He quickly recollects himself and takes a seat before she changes her mind.

“So, going back to charms. Can you tell me the definition of the substantive charm?” She asks Seamus.

“How long have you been doing this?” George interrupts.

Seamus grabs (y/n)’s arm and reads her watch. He whistles dramatically. “Crickey, it’s been an hour and fifteen minutes. I think we should call it a day.” He grabs his book and bag and gets up. “Thanks again (y/n). See you next week.” And with that, he was off.

(Y/n)’s jaw clenches as she looks from the now empty chair to George.

“Why?” She groans. “Why would you do that?”

“This is great. He got his help and you get a break. What do you say we go down to the dungeon and pull a prank on Malfoy?” He beams at her, pleased with his idea.

She gets the sudden urge to scream. Who does he think he is? Coming into her life and ruining everything. It is quite likely that Seamus won't do as well on the quiz as if he had stayed for the extra fifteen minutes she had planned and now she has to go deal with Hermione who wanted to rant about Ron. Something which she had very much been putting off. She takes a long, deep breath before looking at George again. The urge to scream has faded with the breath but the look on his face makes her see red.

“Could you please, please, find someone else to annoy. I don’t have time for this and you’re really starting to test my patients.” She pleads.

George’s face drops, evidently displeased by her response. He stands from his chair and puts his bag strap over his shoulder.

“Alright, I’ll leave.” He surrenders. There is a pause like he’s debating between leaving or adding another word. To (y/n)’s dissatisfaction, he continues to speak. “Anytime you need someone who doesn’t need help tutoring or homework to copy or healing salve, you know where to find me.”

She laughs loudly making everyone turn to look at her. “Pff yeah okay.” She dismisses, and with that George is turning away and walking out of the library.

She hates the sad feeling that settles in her chest. It’s like it’s telling her she wants him to stay. She rolls her eyes and swears to herself, gathering her things and heading to Hermione’s aid.

No matter how hard she tries not to, she spends the rest of the day thinking about George. His stupid face keeps popping into her head. What does he know? She likes when people ask for help. She is happy being the person people can turn to. She can’t understand what George thinks is wrong with that. Maybe he’s just a horrible person. It’s much easier to tell herself than to think there could be something wrong with her.

———

A week later (y/n) is knocking on Susan Bones’ door and stepping in before hearing a welcome.

“Merlin! I can’t stand him!” She shouts once in her best friend’s dorm room. Susan looks up from her book with her brows knitted.

“Who?” She asks while shutting her book and sitting up.

“George!” She states looking at Susan like she should have known. She shows no sign of further understanding (y/n)’s dilemma.

“Why?” She asks hesitantly. (Y/n) stomps to Susan’s bed and plops onto it.

“First he’s everywhere meddling into my life like it’s his business and now, radio silence.” She adds nothing more, leaving Susan even more confused.

“And that’s a problem because…”

(Y/n) sits up and flails her arms in the air. “Well, why did he make me question myself like that and then just vanish?” She exclaims exasperated.

Susan gapes, further confused. “But, didn’t you ask him to leave you alone?”

“Ark! That’s not the point!” She gets up and stomps out of the room. Susan blinks and looks around the room stunned even though there is no one to share the confusion with.

A moment later (y/n) is back into the room. “What on earth did he mean by if ever you want someone who doesn’t need help, you know where to find me?” She puts her hands on her hips and waits for her friend’s answer. Susan’s eyes light up and she smiles slightly. Now it’s (y/n)’s turn to look confused.

“He said that?” Asks Susan with a hopeful tone.

“Wha- I- Well yes he did but-.” She stops. Susan has left her stunned, she’s too confused to debate.

Susan’s smile grows wider. “Have you heard about Dombledors army?” She asks.

(Y/n) scrunches her nose. “No. What does that have to do with this?”

“Well I think you should come to our next meeting.” Her smile is mischievous, (y/n) hates it.

———-

The next day Susan takes (y/n) to the seventh floor. She stops in the middle of the hall and passes back and forth in front of a stone wall. Soon a door appears in front of them and (y/n) smiles, amazed by the castle's secrets.

Susan is the first to walk in waving at a few people near the door. Once (y/n) follows through the room goes silent. Harry finally walks up to them, hand stretched out.

“Welcome to the army.” He says confidently. She looks to Susan who gives her an encouraging nod. She finally accepts Harry’s hand with a small yet nervous smile.

As she looks around the room she feels a pair of eyes on her. She turns to find George looking at her with a neutral face. She lets out a little screech and turns back to Susan.

“You didn’t tell me he was going to be here!” (Y/n) whispers with a panicked tone.

“Well if I did you wouldn’t have come.” She states simply before walking off to talk with one of the other girls.

“Alright everyone. I think we’ll get started.” Announces Harry. Everyone goes quiet and they quickly form a half-circle around him. She sees a tall man settle next to her in her peripheral. She can just make out a flash of red hair. Her heart starts beating at an unruly pace.

“Today’s focus is on stunning. Nigel and I are going to do a demonstration so watch closely.” Everyone moves to the sides of the room whispering excitedly.

(Y/n) claps her hand over her mouth as she watches Harry fly backwards after being stunned by Nigel. She lets out a relieved sigh when Harry sits back up.

“I’d like to see you do that.” Whispers George into her ear. She jumps a little as his hot breath on her neck sends a shiver down her spine.

She turns to look at him. She has no snarky answer. She just gapes at him in surprise.

“I’d like to see you stand up for yourself for once.” He adds. She huffs in shock.

“I-“ She starts but Harry cuts her off. “Who wants to go next?” He asks.

“(Y/n) and I will go.” Announces George. She freezes as everyone eyes them curiously.

“Maybe someone else would like to go before us.” She tries.

“Nonsense, go on (y/n).” Says Harry enthusiastically. “No one here will judge you.” He adds thinking that’s her concern.

It’s not that she didn’t want to defend herself, it’s just she felt sort of bad stunning someone. She wasn’t sure she had it in her to do it. She walks to one end of the room and George to the other. He stretches out his arm, wand at the ready. She looks at Susan with a pleading look. Susan gives her an impatient nod and (y/n) reluctantly lifts her wand.

Neither of them moves, the room is completely silent. Soon there are whispers in the crowd. George is looking at (y/n) with a challenging eye. She gulps, trying to convince herself to stun him. She thinks that maybe if she does nothing he’ll grow impatient and stun her. That way she wouldn’t have to do it and he wouldn’t get the satisfaction of getting what he really wants.

“Right, any second now. Go ahead.” Says Harry slowly.

Nothing happens. George slumps out of his stans and raises his arms in the air. “Oh c’mon (y/n) stun me!” He exclaims.

She looks at the crowd as they all stare back at her. She suddenly feels weak in the knees. She begins to sweat nervously and looks at Susan. She looks a little concerned, maybe thinking this wasn’t as good an idea as she first thought. She still gives her a weak encouraging smile and a little thumbs up. (Y/n) looks back at George who has his arms stretched out taunting her.

“Oh for once in your life be mean!” He shouts. The words echo in the room.

“I can be plenty mean!” She disputes. “Last week, I ate Susan’s cookie.” She adds, puffing her chest.

George tries to hold back his smile. She hears a couple giggles in the crowd.

“That is not mean.” His tone is adoring and she hates it.

“It was her favourite brand.” She adds trying to make it sound more horrific. She’s the only one in the room with a serious face. Everyone else is smiling enjoying the tense exchange between the two.

He clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “If it’s anything, it’s cute.” He says with a wink. There it is. There’s the final straw. She can feel her blood boil. Everyone holds their breath as they watch her face contort into an angry pout. George smiles wide thinking the pout is possibly the cutest thing he’s ever seen.

She lets out an angry grunt. “It is not cute! You wanna see cute? Watch this.” She flicks her wand and shouts: “Stupify!” The spell sends George across the room. Everyone exclaims as he hits the ground with a thud.

“Excellent! Really good (y/n)!” Exclaims Harry.

Across the room George is whooping. He runs over to her with arms wide open. His smile is contagious, she can’t stop hers from pulling at her cheeks. Laughs spill from her lips as he wraps her tightly into his arms. Fred helps George throw her over their shoulders. Everyone gathers around them and cheers. (Y/n) feels her cheeks go hot suddenly, very aware of George’s hand on her thigh keeping her in place. She looks at everyone’s happy smiles and she can't help but join in. She hates to admit it but George might have been right. Standing up for yourself can feel good.

———

It’s a Wednesday evening. Most people were already back in their common rooms. (Y/n) was walking back from the library, having finished another tutoring session with Zacharias Smith. The halls are practically deserted when she suddenly hears quiet sobs further away. She speeds her pace and turns the corner finally spotting a little boy crying quietly while holding his hand. Two older boys are kneeling next to him. Her breath hitches when she spots him. George hasn’t talked to her since their duel. She would sometimes catch his eye across the classroom or in the dining hall but this is the first time she’s run into him. George is rubbing circles on the boy's upper back as he whispers sweet comforting phrases to the crying boy. As she steps closer she recognizes the boy to be Michael. She has helped him countless times after he has gotten detention from Umbridge.

Looking at George now she questions how she once called him a horrible person. She sighs accepting she might have been too quick to judge. She steps between the Weasleys and kneels down at Micheal’s feet so they're at eye level. She looks through her big bag before pulling out some gauze and a small glass jar of healing salve. Micheal gives her his hand, remembering the drill. She quietly applies the salve and wraps his hand. She listens to George explain to Micheal how soon the pain will subside. She notices he never stops rubbing circles on the boy's back. There’s something reassuring about the movement and she’s not even the one receiving it.

Micheal takes a deep breath, recollecting himself. He looks between George and (y/n) before smiling mischievously.

“Thanks mom, dad.” He tips his head to each before getting up and walking to his dorm. George’s hand stays frozen in the air even if there’s no longer a back to rub. (Y/n) stops screwing the lid to her salve as she looks at the now empty seat. They both jump when Fred starts howling with laughter. His laughs echo down the hall as he doubles over himself, holding his aching stomach. He wipes at his eyes and sighs loudly.

“Good one kid.” He shouts though Michael is much too far to hear it. “Ah! That’s golden.” He adds before he walks off in the same direction as Micheal did before.

George and (y/n) remain frozen. (Y/n)’s face is pale and George's cheeks are tomato red. (Y/n) is the first to move, she finishes screwing on the lid and shoving it into her bag. She’s in a hurry to get out of this very awkward situation. She shoots a look at George who moved from the floor and onto the bench. He’s leaning back onto the wall with his arms crossed. He smirks when she meets his eyes.

“We would have some cute kids.” His tone is teasing but there’s still something soft and affectionate in the statement.

“Oh honestly George, get a grip.” She rolls her eyes and walks away quickly. It takes all her willpower to hold in her smile until her back is turned to George. He’s not wrong she thinks to herself.

——-

She knocks lightly on the dorm room door. She can hear George’s loud laugh on the other side. She hopes he won’t be mad at her for interrupting the fun. Lee opens the door and the smile on his face is quickly replaced by a look of surprise.

“(Y/n)?” He stuns. The laughter in the room stops abruptly. She hears shuffling and soon George is peaking his head over Lee’s shoulder.

Lee quickly moves out of the way and George looks at her with a concerned look.

“(Y/n)? What are you doing here? Is everything okay?” He asks looking around to make sure there is no one else listening.

“I’m sorry to bother you, I know you were having fun there.” She feels pretty stupid now that she’s actually standing in front of him. George shakes his head vigorously to tell her it’s no problem.

“I just-“ she runs a hand through her hair. “I sort of need someone who doesn’t need help with tutoring or homework or healing salve.” The offer is months old. They haven’t even talked in weeks. She never thought she’d actually take him up on it but she didn’t know who else to turn to.

His shoulders drop and a natural smile spreads across his face. “Well then I’m your guy.” He closes the door behind him and guides her down the stairs and into the common room. It’s late, most students are in bed. George asks the few left if they could give them some privacy and they all retreat to their rooms.

“What’s up?” He asks, shoving his hands into his pockets.

She sighs and walks over to the big red couch. She sits down and buries her head into her hands. “I- I’m so tired George.” Her voice is laced with despair. “There’s just so much to do and I’m trying, I really am but I just don't know if I have it in me.”

George sits next to her, so close that their knees touch. “What are all the things you need to do?” He asks softly.

“I have to run the potions club and make that banner for the Ancient Runes Club. I have to tutor Hannah and Seamus and Zacharias and so many other people. I have to make sure Lavender is okay and that Luna found her socks. I have to listen to Hermione and Ginny talk about their boy problems and then give them advice. I have to write back to my parents and help them with their problems. I have to help McGonagall with the rat problem because no one else wants to. Madame Pomfrey said I could intern with her but that means I have to spend ten hours a week in the hospital wing. I told professor Sprout I’d help her extract pus from Bubotuber. I promised Colin I would look out for Dennis and I haven't even seen him in weeks.” It all spills out. For the first time ever she is totally transparent about her problems. “And then I have to worry about my own studies and try and keep my grades up and there’s the stress of Dumbledore’s army, what if we get caught?” She’s panting by the end suddenly feeling much lighter.

“Well maybe you could say no to a couple people. I’m sure the Ancient Runes Club can wait for a sign, Mcgonagall can take care of the rats on her own. You can say no you know.” He places a hand on her thigh and looks deep into her eyes.

“But- I can’t George! I can't say no. Those people are counting on me. What if the clubs fall apart or Seamus’ grades drop or Luna never finds her socks.” Her face is panicked.

“Let me help you.” He says it so softly. She feels a dry lump in her throat. Her jaw suddenly hurts and she feels tears well up in her eyes.

“I don’t want your help George!” She jumps off the couch and onto her feet. George’s hand slips off her thigh and onto the couch. It looks limp and sad without her leg to hold it. “I don’t need you, I was doing perfectly fine before you came around and I’ll be fine without you moving forward.” There’s a pause. “ I didn’t come here for you to save the day.” There it is. She doesn’t want to appear weak. She thinks asking for help makes her weak.

George stands up, towering over her. “Fine. If that’s how you feel then I’ll leave. I will go for good and you won’t have to worry about me meddling in your life anymore. I just want you to know that I’m offering to help because I can see how hard this is for you and I think you deserve more than what you’ve granted yourself.” George steps forward closing the gap. “I think you deserve to be taken care of for a change.” They’re inches away from each other. His face suddenly turns soft as he looks into her tear-filled eyes.

There’s a silent pause. She looks into George’s eyes and she sees the honesty, the care, the love. George is there for her when no one else is. He’s right, she is having a hard time and he’s the one offering the help. No one else. All the other people she has sworn would help her, be there for her, aren’t there. But how could they have known? She never tells them how hard it is, always caring for others. She never asks for their help. It’s not that those people don’t care. She just never opens up to them. She never permits them to be anything else than people she could help. All she ever did was give and give. She never believed she should do anything else. George is the first person who wants her to take, not give. It finally clicks. Everything that George has been trying to make her see is crystal clear now.

A tear spills from down her cheek and she feels her knees go weak. She cups her hand over her mouth trying to hold in a sob. She takes a step back shaking her head in denial. George’s face remains soft but there’s concern in his eyes.

“Hey.” He tilts his head, maintaining eye contact as she tries to look away. “It’s okay.” He pulls her towards his chest and she welcomes it. She falls into his arms as more tears fall down her cheeks. “Let it out.” He says.

With that permission (y/n) cries. She cries like never before. Loud sobs slip from her lips as her body shakes in George’s arms. She cries about all the sad secrets people have confided in her. She cries for all the days she sacrificed for others. She cries for all the “I love that you never say no”. She cries for all the grades she sacrificed to keep others high. She lets out years of pent-up tears, of hurt.

He rubs small circles on her upper back and remains quiet. She was right, there relay is something reassuring about those little circles. She cries for an hour and George never moves, never speaks, never stops her.

Finally, she sniffles her last tear and steps out of George’s arms. He reluctantly lets her go but takes her hand in his. She pulls it away to wipe at her eyes.

“Thank you.” Her voice is so delicate she would be embarrassed if it weren’t George in front of her. She laughs suddenly and George looks shocked. She soon starts crying of laughter and George gapes unsure of what to do.

“Are you okay?” He asks confused.

“I just, I hate you.” She laughs again. George looks stunned. He takes a step away from her and opens his mouth to say something but she cuts him off.

“Or so I thought. You have bugged me every day for months yet there’s no one I want here more than you.” George takes a tentative step forward. The words seem to give him confidence. “As crazy as it sounds I’ve had some of the best times talking with you because I actually said what I wanted to say. You can handle me better than anyone else. You challenge me in a way that I absolutely hate but I know why you’re doing it. You’re helping me learn to take care of myself and that’s hard because it’s something I’ve never done before.” She stops for a moment. The look in her eyes changes. First, there’s shock as she realizes. Then there’s a soft and happy glow. “I think I’m falling in love with you George.” She gasps. It’s almost a whisper. She barely wants to admit it.

“Come here.” Is all he says. She doesn’t move. Her brows knit themselves as she searches his face for an explanation. She takes a deep breath. The step towards him feels like a trust fall. He gently pulls her closer by the waist. He presses his forehead to hers. (Y/n) pushes her nose to his, bringing their lips closer to one another. He repeats the movement.

They tease each other a couple more times before George whispers “Can I kiss you?” She nods slowly and whispers a yes. He tips his head so their lips connect. His soft lips send sparks down her spine. George wraps an arm up to her back and pulls her closer quickly deepening the kiss. She wraps her arms around his next and soon her hands tangle into his fiery red hair. It feels like rain after a dry summer, like the cold side of her pillow, like the warm fire after coming in from the cold, it feels like heaven. Nothing has ever felt more right than their lips pressed together and for once, she’s giving in to what she wants.

When George pulls away she finds herself chasing his lips. She pouts a little missing the kiss. George runs a hand over her hair and looks at her adoringly.

“I’m falling for you too (y/n)”

[fanficimagery]

Lost and then Found pt. II

Imagine being taken by HYDRA. After years with them, they set you loose on someone you haven't seen in a while. Unfortunately for HYDRA, you weren't as susceptible to their mind experiments like they thought. Now away from their influence, your only worry is making sure you're prepared for your baby to enter the world.

Words: 11.3K Author’s Note: I won't say I don't like this because there are some parts in here that I absolutely adore. However, it is rushed and it feels forced to me, but I needed to get this out so here it is. Also, I've never experienced childbirth so please ignore my mediocre take on it. Haha.

Tags: @aya-fay​ @70s-chic​ @sipsteacasually​ @kaitlyn2907​ @scarlettwitch99 @thingsforimagination​ @b1sexualtonystark​ @living-that-best-life​ @alexnicolaidisss​ @l0ve-0f-my-life​ @eliwinchester99​ @mimilh @rosesloml​  @blackxwidowsxwife  @meredeph @lexy9716​ @wxnderingthoughts​

The Avengers have grown accustomed to having a werewolf living among them and sitting in on mission briefings, but they put their foot down when you attempt to join them for missions. You want to desperately prove yourself to the group of assembled heroes, but you also very much want to protect the life growing inside your womb. So agreeing to stay home while pregnant, they eventually task you with setting up your own apartment the first time they all had to leave you behind.

Of course you weren't totally alone and Pepper had flown in to help you set up, her excitement for your pregnancy spurring on your own excitement even more.

You get settled quite easily and it shows how much trust you have in them when the full moons don't affect you like they normally would. Now others could come and go during the full moon, and you barely batted an eye at them. Unless it was Tony. Tony needed to be watched at all times after he attempted to rile you up purposely on the night of a full moon to see exactly how much control you had.

The slight swell to your abdomen eventually sets in and you couldn't be more proud of the roundness that was obvious when you wore a tight shirt. Wanda, too, was absolutely smitten with the small bump and the whole team was relieved to see her genuinely happy after everything she'd recently gone through. But Wanda wasn't the only one who doted on you- oh no. For some reason, the sight of your bump made the two super soldiers absolutely melt when your shirt was fitted and the bump was on display. Everyone knew it was inevitable for Steve to turn to mush, but it was Bucky who surprised everyone.

Bucky always made sure to sit close to you, snacks on hand and ready to make a run to the store when your cravings got the best of you. You'd even caught him reading a pregnancy book, but he looked so embarrassed when you caught him that you couldn't bring yourself to mention it to anyone else. And for that he was grateful- always letting you crawl into his lap when you had the urge to scent mark everyone.

Your cuddle sessions became more frequent, which made Wanda pout and Sam and Steve rather smug for some unknown reason to you.

It's cooler than normal around the living quarters given the rising summer temperatures and, though you normally run hot, your own body temperature has been up and down since you've become pregnant. So on this particular day you find yourself cuddled up to Steve, your left arm thrown over his waist and left leg draped over his legs. Your bump is resting near his hip and he smiles down at you every time you grumble about needing to pee.

"This baby is going to be the death of me," you mumble. "All I wanna do is cuddle, but no. I have to pee. Again!"

Leaving the comfort of the new couch that had been ordered for your specific cuddling tendencies- it could honestly pass for a bed with how spacious it is- you get up and take care of business in the bathroom. And then when you get back to the living room, you find that Bucky's taking up the other side of the sofa Steve is on.

"Yessss." You nearly skip back towards the sofa, crawling in between both men. "Supersoldier sandwich."

Steve snorts and then yelps when you manhandle him into scooting down until he's laying down again, then wrapping yourself around him like you had previously been. All the while Bucky is laughing at his friend's misfortune, but then you reach behind you and drag Bucky closer until you whine at him to spoon you. You smell rather than see his embarrassment, especially when Steve teases him to just spoon you already, and then you practically purr when you're enveloped in their warmth.

As Bucky settles behind you, you end up grabbing his metal arm and dragging it over your waist. He tenses, but you run your fingers up and down the back of his hand until he gets that you're okay with him- metal arm and all.

Stuck between two solid bodies, enveloped in their warmth and scent, is enough to send you off into a content light doze.

And then you're jolted back into consciousness when you feel Bucky freeze behind you. "What was that?"

"What was what?" You sleepily mumble.

"Your stomach. Are you- was that your stomach grumbling?"

This time it's your turn to freeze as you place your hand over his that's still crawling your bump. "You actually felt that?"

"Yeah." He chuckles.

"Holy shit," you muse. "It's way too early for anyone other than me to feel the baby. How the hell-"

"Wait, what?" Steve says, a whine lacing his tone. "Bucky got to feel the baby?"

You laugh as you move to turn so you're laying on your back, and both Steve and Bucky try to maneuver their hands around your small bump in order to feel the fluttering sensation. "This is insane. I can't believe you guys can feel it."

"I don't feel anything." Steve frowns.

"Don't pout, punk." Bucky smirks. "I can only feel it because of the arm."

Grinning, you reach up and lightly pat Steve's cheek. "Don't worry, Rogers. When the kicks start coming in, I'll go find you first."

The two men are distracted when the elevator dings open and Wanda steps off, the scent of food wafting from the bags she's carrying. Your nostrils flare and your mouth waters, and you start to pull free from Steve and Bucky.

Wanda smirks. "Hungry?"

"Always." Now free of the men, you hurry towards the kitchen where Wanda is laughing and pulling out containers. "Is that," you inhale deeply, eyes closing in bliss, "medium-rare steak, baked potato with the works, and.. and fries?"

"I even got that sauce from Arby's you like so you can dip your fries in it."

"Oh my god, you're my favorite."

"Hey!" Steve and Bucky shout from the living room. Wanda preens.

A couple more months pass and you're in awe of what your body is doing.

You're absolutely in love with your growing bump which now looks like there's a volleyball under your shirt, but for some reason you're unreasonably uncomfortable. You've been meaning to go shopping for maternity clothes, however, everything you've found online is not to your taste. You just want a simple loose shirt, but all maternity clothes seem to either have a floral theme to it or ruffles that you're not a fan of.

So stuck in one of your usual t-shirts that feels like it's stretched too tight and showing off the bottom portion of your bump, you walk around your apartment grumbling and shifting uneasily and trying to find a way to make yourself feel comfortable.

You're pacing around the room, hands rubbing along your swollen abdomen when there's a knock on your door. Agitated, a growl slips free. You stomp towards your door, another growl threatening to slip free, when you're stopped short at the sight of Bucky.

His eyebrow quirks at you and you sigh, trying to shake off your agitation. "Why are your eyes glowing, sweetheart?"

"I'm annoyed. I can't help it."

You swing the door open wider, but Bucky remains rooted to his spot. "Why are you annoyed?"

And just like that, the tears well up and start dropping one after the other. "I am so uncomfortable!" You cry. Bucky's eyes widen before he steps forward, arms loosely wrapping around you. "I just- I want to be comfortable. None of my shirts are fitting me and I- I just- I need-"

"Okay. Okay, shh." Bucky gently rocks you side to side. "Come on. Come with me."

Miserable, you agree and follow after Bucky to his own apartment that's just a few doors down the hallway. You're not sure what's going on when he tells you to wait in his living room and then disappears into what you can only guess is his room, and your brow furrows when he returns with a shirt in hand.

Sheepish, Bucky rubs the back of his neck with one hand while holding the shirt out with the other. "Here. You can use one of mine until you find something more comfortable."

You glance between him and the shirt, reaching for it as a smile starts to take form. And when you have the shirt in your hands, you readily strip out of your own shirt and huff a laugh when Bucky blushes and averts his gaze. Pulling on his shirt then, you groan with satisfaction as the material hugs you just right. "Oh heck yes." And then picking up the collar of the shirt, you can't help but deeply inhale the material and groan yet again. "This is exactly what I needed."

Bucky slowly smirks. "Good. Now let's go grab something to eat." He can't help but laugh as you latch yourself onto his arm, mumbling about him leading the way as your eyes close in pure bliss.

Your senses tell you Bucky's just leading you towards the communal kitchen, your nose twitching at the smell of food coming from it's direction. There are a few voices too and it's easy to pick out Wanda, Steve, and Sam.

Upon opening your eyes, you're met with amused and/or surprised expressions. "What?"

"Do my eyes deceive me or am I sensing a walk of shame?" Sam slowly smirks.

You and Bucky both frown as Steve and Wanda laugh at their friend's assumption. "Huh?"

"You're in Barnes' shirt," he says. "You cannot stand there and tell me you two ain't foolin' around."

It takes you a second to realize what he's saying, your mind connecting the dots when you feel Bucky tense next to your side. The slight embarrassment wafting off of him nearly makes you whine, but you swallow down the urge. Instead, you roll your eyes and say, "First off, if I was getting dicked down by this beefcake, there would be no walk of shame. I would happily tell you about length, girth, and every goddamn ridge on this man's dick." Wanda cackles as Sam's eyes bulge in shock, Steve then choking on his orange juice. "And secondly, I'm fat, Wilson!" You let go of Bucky, turning to the side and grabbing the sides of Bucky's shirt to pull tight over your swollen tummy. "None of my shirts fit comfortably anymore and Bucky was just helping a girl out." His mouth drops slightly as if he hadn't thought of that and you shake your head at him. Letting go of the shirt, you walk forward to sit at the kitchen island. "Do you seriously think anyone wants to get it on with a pregnant chick? Use your head, Samuel."

As you settle down, Bucky takes a seat next to you and you automatically lean into his side with your head on his shoulder. Wanda and Steve both smile, but neither of them say a word. Sam, however, just can't let this go. "So let me get this straight- you two are not boning in secret?"

"No," you say, fighting off a smile. "We're just friends. Which means you just lost the bet too because my bump is fully set in and there has been no sex." Sam, Wanda, and Steve slowly lose their amused expressions and this time it's your and Bucky's turn to be smug. "What? Didn't think we knew about that, did 'ya?"

"Y/N, I am so sorry," Wanda says, but you wave her off. "I didn't think-"

"It's fine, Wanda. We thought it was funny."

Bucky remains quiet, but his little grin lets Wanda know he was fine with the supposedly secret bet as well. Her shoulders seem to sag in relief and you readily accept the plate of bacon Sam nudges in your direction.

"So," Wanda muses, "you need to go shopping? I'm free today and tomorrow."

You grimace. "I guess so. As much as I want to, I can't steal the guys' shirts for the next few months."

"Good. We'll head out after you get something to eat."

Leaving the medical facility, you aimlessly walk back towards the family compound with several black and white photos in hand. You had known there was a baby growing inside of you, but it's just now truly sunk in after seeing your baby's profile instead of a blob with still-forming limbs. A slip of paper with your baby's gender is tucked into your back pocket, Doctor Cho having given it to you in case you wanted to know.

You're not exactly looking for the quiet of your apartment, so you remain in the communal living spaces in hopes of someone distracting you. Only when you get there, all is quiet.

Turning on the large screen flat TV, you put it on a random cooking show after crawling onto your sofa and getting comfortable. You've only managed to watch one entire episode, your interest captivated by the meals the chefs are putting together with only a few certain items from their basket, when the elevator dings.

You don't bother looking back, Bucky's scent wafting over to you before he even steps into your peripheral. "Hey doll, want some company?"

"Please," you groan.

Bucky toes off his boots and sits on the edge of the sofa, scooting back towards the middle until he's shoulder to shoulder with you. You sigh and lean against him, laying your head on his shoulder while your arms remain on your lap. "What's wrong?" Bucky immediately says.

"Nothing. Why?"

"Because you're not cuddling me."

The tone of Bucky's voice makes you freeze, amusement blossoming. Slowly you lift your head and attempt to meet his gaze. "Are you- are you pouting because I'm not cuddling you?"

"No."

You huff a laugh, letting your forehead fall on his shoulder once more. After a moment, you lift his arm and settle underneath it as you cuddle him. Bucky chuckles and squeezes you just a little tighter against him. "Is this better?"

"A little. Now tell me what's bothering you."

You quietly groan, shifting under his arm until you reach to your other side and pick up one of the sonograms. "I had an appointment today," you say while handing him the picture. "It's just- I guess it's just sinking in that there's an actual living being growing inside of me."

"You mean all the kicking these past two months didn't give it away?" Bucky huffs in amusement. "Wow. Would you look at that?" He says. "The little nugget is really growing. Huh?" Your hormones get the best of you and you end up sniffling, tears filling your eyes. Bucky freezes. "Doll? Are you- are you crying?"

"How the hell am I going to do this, Buck? I'm a foul-mouthed werewolf who just recently escaped the clutches of HYDRA. What business do I have raising a baby?"

"Hey. Hey, look at me." Bucky gently nudges you so you'd glance up at him. With his flesh arm still tucked around you, his metal hand gently holds your sonogram between two fingers as he makes you look at it. "You're going to do just fine. You wanna know how I know that?" You sniffle and wipe the tears from beneath your eyes. "Because you have all of us- you have me- in your corner. This little nugget of yours will never want for anything as long as we're around."

His words only make the tears fall even more and you hide your face in his shoulder once more. He holds you tighter, shushing you and murmuring words about how you're going to be a good mother. If you could overlook everything HYDRA did to you in order for you to conceive this child and then go on to keep the child, then there was no doubt in his mind you were going to be a great mom.

As you sit there against Bucky and work on getting yourself under control, you can't help but notice that he turns the sonogram back towards himself to stare at it. You shift your head just right so you can see his face and it warms your heart to see him smiling at the profile of your baby.

The elevator dings again, this time dropping off Wanda. When she walks around the sofa and takes in your puffy, red-rimmed eyes, she freezes. "What happened?"

"Nothing."

"She had a bout of insecurity." Bucky tattles on you. "It's fine now."

Wanda blinks at Bucky in surprise before looking back at you and you offer her a small smile. "New sonogram pictures. It's.. just sinking in that this is really happening."

Wanda glances at the small piles of pictures next to you, squeals, and then hurriedly picks one up. You chuckle as she coos. "Has Doctor Cho mentioned whether it's a girl or boy yet?"

You nod. "I, uh, I have the slip of paper that tells me. I haven't looked at it yet."

"Well what are you waiting for?" Wanda immediately takes a seat and you slightly lean to the side in order to pull the folded piece of paper out of your pocket. You hold it out to her and her eyes subtly widen. "You don't want to do it?"

"I do, but.." You trail off, shrugging. "It doesn't really matter to me. As long as I have a healthy baby I'm fine. You seem more excited for this than me anyway."

She slowly smiles, only taking the slip of paper when Bucky shrugs. He seems confused for a split second that Wanda would even seek his opinion, but then his expression is neutral once more and that's all the approval Wanda needs. She takes the slip of paper, opening it to peek at the gender. She gives nothing away. "Last chance. Are you sure you want to know?"

"Lay it on us, Maximoff."

Wanda glances at the piece of paper once more before looking straight at you, a smile blossoming from ear to ear. "It's a girl."

Your breath hitches. "Yeah?" Your voice then cracks and tears immediately well in your eyes again.

Bucky squeezes you tighter to his side, chuckling, and Wanda's own eyes fill with tears as she nods. "You're having a little girl." A sob breaks free, even as you laugh, and the tears flow faster. Wanda crawls towards you and pulls you into a hug, crying softly as she rejoices with you. "If Pietro were here, he'd spoil that little girl rotten."

"Right?" You wetly laugh, pulling back and settling against Bucky once more. "I can already hear him. A little prinţesǎ," you coo, putting on an accent that was nowhere near what Wanda or Pietro sounded like. Both Wanda and Bucky laugh at your horrible accent, and your smile slowly falls as you fondly remember Wanda's twin. "I really wish he was here to meet her."

Her smile drops too, nodding in understanding. "Me too."

Wanda moves to replace the sonogram picture, but you shake her head and push her hand back. "No. That's yours."

"Really?"

"Yeah. You too, Bucky." You then glance at him, gesturing to the sonogram he still held. "I got copies for Steve, Natasha, and Sam as well. Even Doctor Cho happily kept one," you say.

"Thanks, doll." A kiss gets pressed to the side of your head and you can feel a rumble of content threatening to come out, but when you catch Wanda's gaze- her eyebrows wiggling causes you to frown and stomp down on the urge. "This is going up on my fridge."

Wanda smirks at you as you flush. "Yeah, well you're welcome."

Your friend can't stop smirking, but she's kind enough to not call you out on it in front of Bucky. "So baby shower?"

Now you groan. "Do we have to?"

And without missing a beat, Bucky and Wanda say, "Yes."

When word got around that Wanda was to plan your baby shower, you were surprised at how excited it seemed to make everyone. Apparently no one was immune to the impending arrival of your daughter, Clint having flown in to toss around some ideas and secure an invite for he and his family. Then when Tony and Pepper got involved, you had to make them promise that the shower was to not be over the top. But according to Tony, only the best was allowed for the next baby Avenger.

No one would tell you a thing about the baby shower, not even Bucky who you found yourself hanging out with more and more as the weeks went by. The surprise of finding you curled up in his lap was long gone and now when anyone was looking for either of you, it seemed they went to the other for your whereabouts. So a couple days before the shower, you thought you had won Bucky over and that he was moments away from telling you what you wanted to know about said shower, but Sam and Steve had given him one look and then quickly marched him out of the kitchen to keep him from spilling the beans. Afterwards, he stayed pretty tight-lipped, up until the day of said baby shower when Natasha, Wanda, and Pepper had you contained in your apartment while the boys took care of everything else in the communal living space.

As Natasha had you sit in front of your bathroom mirror, she did your hair and makeup for the party. So as you sat through her torture, you couldn't help but take a selfie with your fangs on display as you snarled at her smirking reflection in the mirror. Bucky had laughed at your picture and the only clue he gave to you about your baby shower was a picture of a sunflower.

Pepper and Natasha had several dresses for you to try on for the shower, but the outfit that won you over had been chosen by Wanda. It was an off-the-shoulder white short playsuit with lace detailing around your clavicle and thighs. You vetoed every heeled shoe until a pair of sandals were dropped in front of you and you let Wanda help you into them.

Once you were fully dressed, Natasha came to stand before you with her hands behind her back. When you narrowed your eyes at her, she smirked and produced a floral crown from behind her back. The flowers were fake, but the small versions of sunflowers and daisies were still pretty. So you bent your knees a little and let Natasha settle the crown atop your wavy hair, fixing your hair once more around your shoulders.

Then arm in arm with Wanda, you let your friends lead you out of your apartment and into the elevator. Your excitement was very obvious and the women couldn't help but chuckle as the elevator doors opened. Your excitement turned into awe at the sight of all the pink and white balloons, and the pink and purple floral garlands hanging from the corners of the room and around each table. There was a table for gifts and a table for finger foods, and of course there was no missing the three tiered pink and white cake. Everything was chic and girly and you absolutely loved it.

Tony, Bruce, and Helen Cho are huddled together, no doubt deep in a conversation about science. Clint and his wife Laura are there, along with their three kids milling about with another young girl who you remember is Tony and Pepper's daughter. And then there is Steve, Sam, and Bucky who each have a drink in hand and are chuckling quietly amongst each other.

"You know from all the stories I've heard, baby showers were meant for women only." At the sound of your voice, conversations taper off and smiles are directed towards you.

"Are you kidding?" Tony huffs. "I know all about the games played at these shindigs. I wanted in on the games and prizes."

"Of course you did." You then direct a smile at everyone gathered. "Thank you all for coming. This pregnancy wasn't exactly.. you know," you trail off, eyes lingering on the gathered kids who are surprisingly paying attention to your stomach, you say, "but I've grown to love this tiny human so much already before I've even met her and I'm just happy she's going to have such a great little community surrounding her."

"Aw look. You made Wanda cry."

You immediately glance to your right where Wanda's laughing, wiping beneath her eyes. "Shut up, Barton." And then, "So what are we doing first? I've never actually been to one of these."

"Games!" Laura and Pepper muse together.

Everyone chuckles at their enthusiasm and you let Wanda lead you to a seat. Pepper sits with Tony and Natasha finds herself being drawn to Clint and Laura, but she doesn't take a seat quite yet. You, however, are led to a sofa chair that Wanda takes a seat on one side of and Bucky the other.

"So the first game is a word unscramble," Natasha says. She walks over to a table and picks up numerous clipboards, along with a cup of pens. "There's a three-minute time limit and the one who unscrambles the most words wins."

Tony claps his hands together, rubbing them in anticipation. "This is so my game."

Natasha passes out the clipboards and pens, and you're happy to realize that this is a game you can play with them. Lila is the only child interested in playing, so Cooper keeps Nathaniel and Morgan busy with a gaming console just on the other side of the room.

Once everyone has a clipboard and a pen in hand, Natasha takes a seat with her own set. "Everyone ready?" At their agreement, she says, "FRIDAY, please set a countdown of three minutes."

"Timer is set, agent Romanoff." A timer is suddenly displayed on the wall across from them.

"Start it now."

The moment the first second ticks away, everyone rushes to pay attention to their piece of paper on the clipboard. You hurriedly scan the words, unscrambling the most obvious words- bottle, crib, bib, booties, blanket, nightlight, and car seat. The others give you trouble and as your eyes dart to the timer, your anxiousness kicks in to unscramble a few more.

Tony is grumbling about impossible words as Laura and Pepper laugh at his misfortune. Wanda is humming, happily it seems, whereas Bruce has just plain given up. Stroller and pacifier give you trouble, and your grumbling starts then. But when you get umbilical cord and morning sickness, it causes you to unknowingly dance in your seat.

Hearing a chuckle next to you, you glance at Bucky and see him peering at your clipboard. You gasp. "You dirty little cheater!"

Steve and Wanda both snort, and you angle yourself away so Bucky can't steal any more of your answers.

You think you've got a good lead, but just as the timer hits thirty seconds Laura calls out, "Done!"

"WHAT?!" Tony shouts.

As the unofficial person in charge of the games, Natasha takes Laura's clipboard to double check her answers. Sure enough, they're all correct. Steve, Sam, and even Clint boo Laura as Natasha grabs a small wicker basket that contains several envelopes inside.

Taking an envelope, Laura opens it and her eyes nearly bulge out of her sockets. "Wow. Every baby shower I've been to had gifts consisting of candles or Bath and Body gift baskets or even kitchenware. This- this is a lot."

"What'd you get, babe?" Clint asks.

"A check for twenty five hundred dollars."

"What?!" Sam yelps.

"Is that a normal prize for a game?" You wonder.

"No. No it's not," Sam says. "Come on. Bring on the next game. I need to know what those other prizes are."

You laugh as everyone suddenly becomes a bit more invested in winning one of the games. But as your laugh tapers off, you glance at Pepper and Tony. Pepper merely smiles when she sees your slight concern. "Don't worry about it. You didn't want an extravagant party, so Tony got a few prizes that were just a little bit more expensive than your average baby shower prize. Trust me, these were the least expensive prizes I could talk him down to."

"Well as long as you're sure.."

You shift uneasily in your seat and then Natasha's walking into the center of the room with a roll of toilet paper in her hand. "Come on, Mother-to-Be. We need to measure your bump and then let these idiots figure out how many squares you are. Whoever guesses the exact number, or closest to, wins."

Natasha helps you stand and you can't help but grumble, "None of you assholes better think I'm huge."

Lila giggles and you send an apologetic look to both Laura and Clint.

Hidden behind the kitchen island, Natasha has you stand still so she can wrap the toilet paper around you. You laugh as you hold the beginning of the first square on your stomach and Natasha reaches around you, unrolling the paper. It's an exact eleven squares.

Taking note of how many squares your bump is, you and Natasha rejoin the group.

"Alright. Give us a twirl. I need to see the bump all the way around," Tony says. Then looking at Wanda, he narrows his eyes. "And no cheating!"

Rolling your eyes with a small huff, you give a slow twirl. Natasha hands Steve the roll of toilet paper and he eyes your stomach before unrolling several squares of it. Bucky goes next, followed by Wanda and Lila. When Clint gets a hold of the roll and unfurls it dramatically, you can't help but growl at him. The others laugh and then take their turn, and then everyone is eagerly awaiting to see if they guessed correctly.

"Are you ready?" Natasha muses. Everyone nods. "It was eleven squares."

"Dammit! So close," Sam whines.

Everyone's looking around, but it's a smug Steve that raises his hand. "I guessed eleven."

"Boo!" Apparently, half the room are sore losers.

You laugh and then it's his turn to choose a prize. When he picks an envelope, he opens it up and his eyebrows raise in surprise. "An all paid expense trip to the spa and then a dinner reservation for two at some fancy restaurant."

"You're taking me to that," Sam immediately says.

Everyone laughs and then Pepper mentions taking a food break so you don't rush through the games. There are a lot of sandwich trays, fruit trays, and vegetable trays. And being the considerate pregnant werewolf you are, you let everyone else make themselves a plate before you, Steve, and Bucky make your own.

Eating carefully so as to not spill anything down the front of your outfit, the laughter and chatter around you makes you feel the most cherished you've ever felt. The finger foods itself is not enough to fill you up, but it does sate your hunger for now. However, with Wanda and Bucky still on either side of you even at the table, between the two of them they're constantly adding extra fruit and fruit dip to your plate.

A few more games are played afterward- Tony guesses the closest to the amount of jelly beans in a mason jar and wins a week-long getaway for two to Fiji, Natasha is the fastest with changing a diaper on a fake baby and wins another set of an all paid expense trip to the spa and restaurant for two, Lila wins at baby bingo and a check for twenty five hundred as well (Clint is clearly happy his family is raking in the cash), and Bucky is the fastest to suck all the apple juice out of a baby bottle which earns him a week-long trip for two to the Bahamas.

Everyone is having such a great time that a sudden alarm blaring immediately puts them on edge. But after Tony rapidly swipes through his phone to figure out what's going on, he realizes they're being called to assemble. Gazes dart in your direction, but you smile reassuringly at them.

"Go. The world needs you guys more than I do right now."

"But we didn't even get to see you open the presents," Wanda frowns.

"And that's fine. You already know I'm going to love whatever has been gifted. We'll gush about everything when you get back."

That seems to be all the team needs to hear before jumping into action and you're a bit surprised to see Bucky hang back. He waves Steve off when he notices his friend holding the elevator and you look up at Bucky with a furrowed brow. "You sure you're going to be okay, sweetheart?"

"Positive." You smile at him, stepping close to him and setting your hands at his waist. "And besides, opening these presents will not only distract me but it'll distract the kids as well. Go save the city or wherever you're needed, Sergeant. I'll be waiting in my apartment for when you get back."

Bucky's hands, both metal and flesh, reach up to gently cradle your face. His gaze darts all over your face for any signs of deceit, but finding none he finally grins. "Okay." He leans forward and kisses your forehead. "I'll be back soon." And then in a move that has you freezing and Pepper, Helen, and Laura's eyes widening, Bucky's hands drop to either side of your stomach as he bends at the waist and addresses your bump. "And you be good for your mama. I see the way you're making her flinch." He brushes his nose from side to side against your stomach and then chuckles when there's a kick in retaliation.

Before Bucky can straighten, you quickly paste on a smile but there's nothing you can do for the burning blush on your cheeks. And the damn prick smirks proudly at how flustered he's made you. "Go," you utter. "Go before Steve comes down to drag you to the jet."

Bucky gives you a nod before stepping back and turning around to saunter towards the elevator. You manage to keep it together until the doors close behind him, the elevator whisking him away, before someone says anything.

"Spill. Right now," Pepper says.

You glance at her, shoulders rising and lowering in a shrug. "I have no idea what the hell just happened, but I'm torn between crying at how cute that just was and wanting to desperately jump his bones." Lila giggles and your eyes widen. You point at her in an accusatory manner. "Stop giggling. You're not supposed to know what that means."

The other women snort as Laura urges her daughter to go play with her siblings and Morgan. Reluctantly she goes. Then as soon as she's out of hearing range, the ladies give you your full attention.

You sigh. "Bucky is.. a very attractive man. Too attractive if I must admit. And if I wasn't knocked up by some random guy's baby gravy, then I could definitely see myself turning on the charm and seeing if he's actually interested."

"First of all," Laura says, "never say baby gravy again."

Pepper snorts as Helen's nose wrinkles. "And secondly," Helen then pipes up, "that man adores you, baby and all." You huff in disbelief. "Don't think I didn't see him pacing outside my office at your last appointment. Or see the way he lit up when you gave him one of the sonogram pictures."

Laura smirks. "Clint told me Bucky keeps a copy of a sonogram in his vest."

And that- that's news to you. Yes you're well aware of your attraction to him as well as his attraction for you (being a werewolf really helps out when you can scent someone's emotions), but you wanted him to make the first move in order to be sure you and your baby were what he wanted.

"Whatever you decide to do, just know we all support you," Pepper says. You're still reeling at the fact that he carries your sonogram picture with him that you have nothing to say. "But until that day comes, why don't you start opening your gifts? I'm dying to know what the men thought were acceptable gifts."

Giving a feeble nod, Helen and Laura hurry to get up and start bringing over gift after gift. Then once you make yourself comfortable, Pepper hands you the gift she had gotten herself with squeals and coos following soon after you pull out onesie after onesie. The booties and floral headbands melt everyone's heart as well.

At the beginning of month nine, HYDRA starts to become a thorn in everyone's side. You figure they're looking for you and their precious cargo, but Natasha assured you everyone in the base you were held at had been taken care of and every file wiped from their computers. As far as other HYDRA bases knew, you did not exist. It was just a coincidence they were active again.

As the weeks slowly pass, your due date is any day now. So it's no surprise when you wake up in the middle of the night one evening, uncomfortable as can be, with pain in your back and lower abdomen.

It's four in the morning and you don't want to wake anyone, but Helen said to call her at any time in case something felt off. And this definitely classifies as something off. So after placing a call to your doctor and friend, Helen tells you to keep track of your contractions and head to the medical wing if they get too close together. She's currently in another state, but after a quick word with FRIDAY the A.I is sending for a quinjet to pick her up.

Moving from your bed to the couch in your living room, you work on trying to find a comfortable position. Sitting or laying down doesn't work, so you take to pacing. But you get tired of pacing very quickly and end up pulling out a yoga ball to bounce on.

By six in the morning, the contractions are about twenty minutes apart. The pain has amped up as the time passed that your claws and fangs have ended up elongating, and you've already shredded two of your couch cushions when you were suddenly seized up by a contraction. Eventually it becomes too much for you to endure so you have FRIDAY alert Wanda with a Code Pink. And not even four minutes later, Wanda is barging into your apartment with concern-filled eyes.

"Is this it? Is the baby coming? What's going on?"

You grimace, hands rubbing your stomach as you lightly bounce on your ball. "Uh, I'm in labor. This sucks."

"Well why aren't you in the med wing?" She asks. She comes closer to you, looking you up and down to make sure nothing else is wrong. "And what happened to your couch?" Instead of saying anything, you end up showing her. Another contraction hits and you snarl in pain, claws digging into your thighs and eyes blazing blue. Wanda's eyes widen. "Oh. I see." Then glancing upward, Wanda asks, "FRIDAY, how close are Y/N's contractions and can you please contact Doctor Cho?"

"The contractions are only eleven minutes apart now and Doctor Cho is still twenty-five minutes out. She has, however, advised me to inform Y/N that she should be heading to the med wing now. The nurses have been alerted and are waiting to have Y/N admitted."

A breath of air whooshes from your lungs just as you get yourself under control and you watch as the claw marks on your legs start to close themselves up. "Wanda," you pant, "I'm not going to be able to walk there."

"I got it." Your eyes watch as Wanda walks over to your kitchen, her hands glowing red as the same energy envelops one of your kitchen chairs. Right before your eyes, the wooden chair turns into a wheelchair. She then wheels the chair over to you, putting on the breaks before walking around to help you into the seat. "Now come on." She beams down at you. "Let's go have this baby."

Since the medical building isn't far, you don't bother with your pregnancy bag. The building is equipped with anything and everything you could possibly need and if you wanted your own stuff then you'd just send Wanda to get it. The elevator ride and walk towards the medical building is filled with your heavy breathing and pained grunts, as well as Wanda's encouraging words that are honestly starting to annoy you.

As soon as the nurses lay eyes on you, it's a whirlwind to get you situated as quickly as possibly. Wanda watches from the corner of your room and as soon as you're settled and the baby's heartbeat is resonating around the room, the terror sinks in.

You're about to have a baby. A BABY!? You're about to push out a baby that you're going to have to take care of for the next eighteen years and who will depend on you for the rest of her life. She will most likely be enhanced too and have to be looking over her shoulder for the rest of her life as well.

"Hey. You okay?" Wanda asks.

"No." Your voice cracks and the tears immediately well up as you meet your friend's concerned gaze. "I don't know if I can do this."

"What? Of course you can!" Wanda rushes towards you and takes a seat next to you on the bed, wrapping one arm around you and holding your hand with her other free hand. "This is just the pain and the realization that you're about to give birth talking, Y/N. You're going to be fine. And on the days where it does become too much, you have a whole team at your beck and call. You and baby Wanda are going to be fine."

Wetly chuckling, you say, "Nice try. That's not her name."

"Well you can't blame me for trying."

A wave of pain courses through you and you squeeze Wanda's hand. She hisses, you snarl, and when it finally passes you can sense a wave of pain radiating from your friend. Glancing at her, your eyes widen. "Oh no. I'm so sorry!"

Cradling her hand to her chest, she weakly smiles. "It's fine. It's not broken. I just- I never realized how strong of a grip you have."

You quickly take her injured hand within your own, concentrating on siphoning her pain away. You know it works when she tenses and pulls her hand out of your grip. "What was that? You had black veins-"

"It's okay. I was just taking away your pain. See?" You say, gesturing to her hand. You watch as she glances at her hurt hand once more, flexing her fingers and then looking at you in surprise. "Yeah. I kind of forgot I could do that."

"You forgot?" She laughs. Then sobering up, she says, "I bet you wish you could take your own pain away right about now."

"You have no idea."

When you become truly uncomfortable, Wanda has you sit in the middle of the bed and pulls your hair up into a messy bun before having you lean forward. Using as much pressure as possible, she presses her fist into the small of your back in hopes of alleviating some of the pain. Then when Doctor Cho finally makes her arrival, she comes with a cup of ice chips in hand and tells you to crunch on that while you're waiting.

Doctor Cho is just as excited as Wanda and you can't help but glare at them when one particular contraction has you groaning out in pain for over a minute. "Oh fuck HYDRA!" You shout once it's over. "There's so much fucking pain and I didn't even get to have the fun part of sex!"

Wanda's eyes are wide as Doctor Cho tries to hide her smile, moving around the machines to make sure you and baby are doing okay still.

"Um, bad time?" You glance at the doorway to find Steve and Bucky standing shoulder to shoulder. Steve looks rather amused whereas Bucky is looking at you as if you have bad news to deliver.

"Steve, the next time you go after HYDRA, kick them in the balls. Hard."

He snorts. "Sure thing, sweetheart. How long have you been in labor?" He nudges Bucky and the two of them walk in when Doctor Cho doesn't immediately shoo them out.

"Since four this morning."

Bucky and Steve are both about to admonish you, no doubt, when a contraction hits yet again. Your features immediately transform as you snarl and Wanda makes sure to keep her hands tucked close to herself. "They're getting closer," she muses. Then looking at Bucky, she says, "Come over here and hold her hand. She nearly broke mine earlier."

Bucky gulps. "Doll?"

"Give me your fucking hand, James!" Steve snorts as Bucky hightails it towards the bed, slipping you his vibranium hand for you to squeeze. And once the contraction passes, you slump back into bed and sniffle. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell at you."

"It's, uh, it's fine. I understand."

"Just so you know, I got that on camera." Tony saunters in, Pepper at his side.

But while Tony is far too amused at your pain and yelling at Bucky, Pepper is elated for the life you're about to bring into this world. Wanda relinquishes her spot next to you so Pepper can slip in. "Hey Y/N, how are you holding up?" Her gentle touch as she brushes the sweaty flyaways off your forehead makes you cry once more.

"This sucks."

"I know it does, sweet girl, but trust me. It's going to be all worth it the second you hear your baby's cries."

Another contraction hits and you're grateful that Bucky had never pulled his hand back. You squeeze his vibranium hand and whimper in pain, and Doctor Cho comes forward. "Okay, Y/N, I'm going to have to see how far you're dilated now since the contractions are only two minutes apart."

Doctor Cho helps you prop up your knees and, though the blanket is still covering you, Tony blanches. And that- that makes you weakly laugh. "Alright, everyone, if you're going to stay I'm going to need you to stand near my head and not my feet. Got it? Cool."

Pepper quietly laughs and leans in to press a kiss to your temple. "We're going to go, but good luck! I can't wait to meet her."

"Thank you," you say just as she pulls away. "For everything."

Pepper winks at you and grabs Tony's hand, he willingly letting her take the lead. Wanda reclaims her spot and Bucky doesn't budge an inch. Steve, however, nervously rubs at the back of his neck. "I'll be in the waiting room and alerting everyone." Then meeting your gaze, his expression softens. "You're going to do great. I'll see you after."

You smile at him, but another wave of pain prevents you from saying anything. And once Wanda and Bucky are left alone, Doctor Cho pushes the blanket and your hospital gown up to your knees so she has an unobstructed view of your lower half. You wiggle at the sudden pressure between your legs and then she's looking up at you and smiling. "You're ready to push."

A sob stutters out as your fear comes back tenfold. You hold tighter to Bucky's hand and reach for Wanda's with your other hand, but you don't squeeze her like you are Bucky. "L-Last chance to book it out of here," you say without meeting their gaze. "Because the second I start pushing, you guys are stuck with me."

It's quiet and then, "As long as you want me, you have me. I am not going anywhere, sweetheart."

Your bottom lip trembles and Doctor Cho smiles adoringly at Bucky's words. Wanda chuckles. "Yeah. What he said."

"If you two are going to stay, I'm going to need you to wash up real quick and put on a sterilized cover."

Wanda and Bucky both assure you they'll be right back, and Doctor Cho leads them to a small room connected to yours where they can get ready. You can hear water running a moment later as your friends lather up and then the rustling of the paper coverings they have to put on that covers the front of their bodies. Then when all three return, Doctor Cho hurries around the room to prep what she needs for the delivery while also calling in a couple of nurses that you had okayed to be in the room when the two of you had made your birthing plan.

Bucky and Wanda take their places on either side of your bed, and Bucky immediately slips his hand into yours. Wanda just watches from her spot, anxiousness rolling off of her even though she's smiling widely. The two nurses finally enter the room, taking their place by flanking Doctor Cho when she slides a stool to the end of the bed you're laying on.

Doctor Cho smiles at you and gives you a nod. "Okay. You ready? We're going to push on three."

"Ready or not, she's coming," you say.

"That's the spirit." Doctor Cho then glances down at your lower half. "And push on one, two, three!"

Immediately you push with all your might for the first six seconds, but the excruciating pain flares up and you roar out in pain. You don't need a mirror to know your face has shifted and you barely hear Doctor Cho telling you to take a breath and that that was a really good push. So when you're allowed to take a break, you fall limp against the bed and start crying. "That hurt so fucking bad."

"Hey. That was good," Wanda assures you. "It'll be over soon."

You shake your head, denying her words when you come to the conclusion that you honestly don't know if you can do this. And then, "I think you dented my hand."

You startle at Bucky's words, snorting and then pulling your hand free and swatting him. "Shut up. No I didn't."

"You didn't," he grins. "But I got you to laugh. Now take a deep breath and do it again. Push."

Giving yourself a moment, you do exactly as you're told. You reclaim Bucky's hand and then push again, roaring out seconds later. When you fall back against the bed, tears are rolling down from the corners of your eyes. "I can't. I can't do this," you cry.

"You can and you have to," Wanda says. When you look at her, her own eyes are filled with tears. "You can do this, Y/N. You can. Now push again."

You continue to whimper until Doctor Cho tells you to push again. You do and it feels like the pain is even more excruciating now. Cho smiles. "Oh wow. There's the head." She glances up at you in surprise. "Your baby really wants out."

The nurses behind Doctor Cho immediately go into action, grabbing blankets and preparing for the baby's arrival. "Helen, I don't- I can't-"

"You can." You glance up at Bucky and nearly stop breathing when he leans down so his forehead is against yours. "You can do this, doll. You're almost there. Just a little bit more pain and then the most precious being ever will finally be here."

There's a lump in your throat, but you manage to swallow around it. "Easy for you to say. Your vagina isn't being stretched open way further than it's supposed to be."

He smirks. "Shut up and push."

"Fuck off, Barnes."

There's no malice behind your words, but it doesn't stop Bucky from acting as if offended. Then when you position yourself to push again, Wanda grabs onto one of your knees as Doctor Cho instructs her to and then Bucky does the same. You grunt, you scream, and you cry harder than you've ever cried, and after several more pushes there's a piercing wail that emits from the end of your bed.

All noise ceases except for the piercing cry and your eyes widen when you see Doctor Cho lift your baby still covered in a mess. She's laughing as she lightly wraps the baby in the blanket and then stands to lay her on your chest. "Congratulations."

The tears immediately come back tenfold as your arms come up to hold her against you. "Hi," you cry. "Oh my god. Hi."

The baby continues to wail as you glance between Wanda and Bucky, and you don't think you've ever seen them so stunned before. As your head falls back in exhaustion, Doctor Cho says, "We have to take her now. She needs to be cleaned up and we need to run a few tests before we bring her back."

And though you know she's right, you can't help the growl that bubbles up when you see one of the nurses step forward. You manage to suppress it seconds later, but the nurse is glued to her spot in fear. Bucky moves and you don't make a peep as he gently wraps the baby in the blanket once more and lifts her from your chest. Your eyes are glued to him as the smallest of smiles turn up the corners of his lips and then he's handing the baby to the waiting nurse.

"S-Sorry," you manage to say to the nurse.

And a moment later, she grins. "It's fine. New instincts are wreaking havoc on you, no doubt, but we we'll be back as soon as we can."

You nod at her, heart aching as you watch the nurses walk out of the room with your newborn daughter. Doctor Cho taps on your ankle and says, "Ready for the afterbirth?" Your nose wrinkles and she chuckles. "I know. I need to get you cleaned up and then tell you all about what your body's going to go through for the next month or so."

Sighing, you look up between your friends. "Go. Go find out how much Baby weighs and then tell the others she's here."

Wanda chuckles and her nose wrinkles in a cutesy manner as she gently cradles your face in her hands and leans down to kiss your forehead. "You did so well. I'm so proud of you."

"Mhm. Thank you for being here."

"Are you kidding? I wouldn't have missed this for the world."

Wanda takes her leave, no doubt to find the baby, and then you look up at Bucky. The emotion in his blue eyes is enough to make your heart stutter, but instead of repeating Wanda's actions, he grabs your hand and gently squeezes it. "Thank you. Thank you for letting me witness that. I-"

His own voice cracks and you smile knowingly up at him. "I know." You then bring his hand up to your lips, pressing a kiss to the back of his vibranium hand. "And thank you for being here. I wouldn't have been able to do this without you or Wanda."

He grins. "I wouldn't have missed it for the world."

Chuckling, you gently push him away. "Go. Go find my girl and then tell the others. I'm sure they're dying to know what happened."

Bucky smirks before backing away and then turning on his heel to take his leave. As he makes it to the door, he rips off his hospital covering and trashes it. Then walking down the corridors, mind reeling over everything he's just witnessed, he lets his hearing take him to where he can hear a baby fussing.

He finds Wanda not long after and she glances at him, smiling. "Six pounds, three ounces."

He exhales in awe. "Jesus. She's tiny."

"She is."

Side by side, Bucky and Wanda watch as the nurses give the baby a washcloth bath. The entire time she's screaming her lungs out, but it only makes them smile and laugh and joke about how Y/N is going to have her hands full. They continue to watch as her foot prints are taken for the birth certificate and measured, then rocked back and forth until she calms down.

When she's placed in a bassinet to rest, Bucky clears his throat. "I'm gonna go find Stevie and the others. Give 'em the good news."

Wanda just hums in response and then Bucky's on his way once more. This is the lightest he's felt in a long while and he can't quite explain the pure elation that he felt the moment he watched Doctor Cho put the baby on Y/N's chest.

"Hey there, Tin Man," Sam calls out. "Any news?"

Bucky glances up, masking his surprise that his feet had taken him to the waiting room without really knowing. "Uh, yeah." He slowly grins. "Six pounds, three ounces." Pepper gasps, smiling wide. "She's, uh, she's in the observation room right now. Wanda's there if you wanna see her before they take her back to Y/N."

Pepper is the only one to get up while Steve, Sam, and Tony hang back. A moment later, all three watch as Bucky numbly takes a seat.

"I- that was.."

"Intense?"

"Beautiful?"

"Grotesque?" Tony muses.

Bucky briefly glares at Tony before looking at Steve. "I didn't know seeing the birth of a baby would feel like that."

"It usually doesn't," Sam says. "I mean childbirth is a beautiful thing, but it's not usually so intense unless there's feelings for the lady giving birth. Come into any realizations lately?"

Bucky opens his mouth to retort, but nothing comes out. Slowly closing his mouth, he frowns and then takes a moment to think about everything since Y/N was brought back to the compound. He thinks about every moment he had with her one on one, and one particular moment stands out to him. He'd been sitting in the communal kitchen when he heard someone approaching, their fucking fuckity fuck, fuck, fuck being a dead giveaway as to who it was. Y/N had rounded the corner, hands on her lower back and complaining about the full moon taking a toll on her body this time around.

Bucky suddenly sits up, eyes widening. "And there it is," Steve chuckles.

Sam starts to swear. "That doesn't count! Feelings have to be returned. We don't know how Y/N feels."

"Please." Tony scoffs. "If you can't tell that she's in love with Robocop, then the muffled sex noises from when they're boinking like bunnies after she heals will be a dead giveaway." Sam groans as Steve snorts and Bucky stands up without a word. "Atta boy, Buckaroo. Go get your werewolf."

Back in the room, you're cradling your baby and staring down at her in complete awe as you run your forefinger down the bridge of her nose. Wanda and Pepper sit in chairs next to the bed, and Helen stands at the end of your bed. "So everything checks out perfectly," she says. "Ten fingers, ten toes. Perfectly healthy."

"But," you muse, eyes never leaving your daughter's face. When she doesn't say anything, you glance up and smile sheepishly. "You're nervous about something. I can smell it."

She grins. "Right. I forgot you could do that." You continue to stare at her until she shifts nervously from foot to foot. "Well, um, when we took a sample of her DNA it was automatically entered into the system."

"Okay."

"I wasn't looking for anything. I promise," she pauses to gulp, "but it pinged in our system. We got a hit for a DNA match to someone who was already in the system."

"W-What?" Helen nods, uncomfortable. You glance between Wanda and Pepper, and both are equally shocked as you are. Then meeting Helen's gaze again, you ask, "Who?"

"James Buchanan Barnes."

The air seems to whoosh out of you at that and you don't know how to feel. On one hand, you're absolutely delighted. But on the other hand, he had no say in this and you don't want him to feel obligated when he no doubt finds out. "Are you sure?"

"Positive. I ran it twice more and Bucky's the father."

"I'm what?"

Dread pools in your stomach as your gaze darts to the opened door. Bucky stands there frozen. "Shit," you quietly curse.

No one dares to say anything, so Bucky stumbles further into the room. "Did you just so I was the father?"

You gulp. "I-It would make sense. Why HYDRA was so ecstatic," you explain, tears stinging your eyes. When he glances at you, you say. "I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"Of course you didn't," he says. "I'm not- I'm not mad." And in a move that surprises you after he's just found out that he's a father now, he sits on the bed just right in front of you. He smiles at you before his gaze darts down to your daughter and he chuckles softly while reaching up to gently caress her beanie clad head. Lowering his voice, he says, "I'm.. happy that it's me. That she's mine. Ours." He then looks up at you, his smile vanishing at the sight of your tears. "I mean, I won't push my way into your lives if you're not-"

"Shut up," you sniffle. "She's ours. Of course I want you there, but only if you want to be there."

Bucky's radiant smile in response makes you swoon, and Pepper and Wanda finally chuckle.

"I hate to break up this moment," Helen says, "but I need a name for the birth certificate. And signatures."

Guiltily looking at Bucky, you say, "I already chose a name. If I had known-"

"It's fine, sweetheart. I'm sure you chose a good name."

You nod and then glance over at Wanda. "I, uh, I wanted to honor the pseudo big brother she'll never get to meet." Wanda's smile falters, eyes glistening. "Her name is Petra. Petra Amaris." Pepper immediately coos and Wanda loses her composure. Your eyes widen and you glance at Bucky, gesturing for him to take your daughter. Panic flits across his features, but then he steels himself and reaches to carefully take her from your arms. Then once you're free, you maneuver over to the side of the bed closest to Wanda and reach for her hand. "Hey. Hey, shh. If you don't like it, I can-"

"No," she's quick to cut you off. "I love it. I'm just surprised, that's all."

"It's a beautiful name," Pepper assures you.

"Good."

Bucky looks so enthralled with Petra in his arms that you look for Helen and gesture for her to hand over the birth certificate. Taking it and a pen, you get to work filling in your name and signing it at the bottom. Then looking at the father portion of the certificate, you figure you'll let Bucky fill it in if he wishes. But as for Petra's last name, you fill it in without even thinking about it.

"Here. Your turn," you say. "Only if you want to though. No pressure."

Bucky glances at the birth certificate, reading it over. He grins before glancing at Petra once more and then takes the pen from you, gesturing for you to place the clipboard down on the bed so he can write. It takes only a few seconds and then you're handing it over back to Helen with a beaming smile.

It doesn't seem like Bucky is going to relinquish Petra anytime soon, so you take the moment to lean back in the bed and rest for a bit. However, you only get to relax for a few minutes before there's a knock on the door.

"Aw man, you're lookin' awfully cozy with that kid in your arms, Barnes," Sam says.

Steve elbows his friend as Tony makes a beeline for Pepper. "Huh. She's actually pretty cute," Tony says. "I thought I was going to have to come in here and lie about how cute she was."

"Tony!"

You grin at him, but Steve steals your attention away as he hovers over Bucky and reaches in to touch your daughter's tiny hand. "What's her name?"

You and Bucky meet each other's gaze, silently communicating about whether or not you should tell them. You give him a nod and he slowly smirks. He moves so both his feet are planted on the floor, and Sam and Tony have a better view of the baby cradle in his arms. "Her name is Petra."

"Aw damn. Named after the Maximoff speedster," Sam says, shaking his head. "Should have seen that coming."

Wanda giggles as you snort, but then you have to bite your lip to keep from bursting into laughter when Bucky tells them her full name. "Petra Amaris Barnes."

The men seem to all freeze, but then Pepper and Wanda coo about how adorable it is that you gave her Bucky's last name.

"Wait, what?" Poor Steve. He looks so confused. "Barnes? She has your-"

"I'm the random HYDRA operative who apparently supplied the other half of Petra's DNA."

"Holy shit."

"You got that right, birdie," Tony mutters.

You giggle and then shrug when Steve meets your gaze. "It was a surprise to us all, but apparently Bucky's more than okay with it."

The room goes quiet as the situation sinks in and then Tony starts to giggle. All eyes turn on him when says, "We sent in Barnes to seal the deal with Y/N and he really sealed the deal, huh? Got him a baby momma and everything."

You blink in surprise and then stare at Bucky, grinning softly when he seems to pink in embarrassment and refuses to look at you. You glance at Wanda and gesture towards the door, and she seems to get the hint. "Right, well," she says, standing up. "Why don't we give these two a bit of privacy while we go make some phone calls to Clint, Laura, and Nat. I'm sure they'd like to know Petra is healthy and that Y/N is doing fine."

Steve and Sam get the hint, but Pepper has to push Tony out of the room. Then left alone with Bucky, you smile at him. "Care to explain what Tony meant about you coming in here to get the girl?"

You watch as he gulps and you can see him trying to piece together what he's going to say. "I might have come to the conclusion that I liked you more than a friend and was coming to see how you felt about that."

Your breath hitches. He.. likes you? That was something you kind of already knew, but were waiting for him to say something. And leave it to him to confess after giving birth and your emotions were kind of haywire at the moment.

Unable to speak at the moment, you carefully lean forward until you're on your knees and Bucky glances up in surprise. And without warning, you press your lips to his in one of the most softest of kisses since he is still holding Petra.

It takes a minute for his brain to reboot and when he does, you smile against his mouth as he returns the kiss. "Is that," he mumbles, "is that your way of saying you like me too?"

His eyes sparkle and you huff a quiet laugh, biting the bottom corner of your lip as you nod. "I do. Have for a while, but didn't want to scare you off since I was pregnant."

"You wouldn't have," he assures you. "I adored the two of you long before I found out she was mine. I'm all in if you'll have me," he says.

You nod. "I want you."

"Good. 'Cause you're not getting rid of me. Ever."

"That's fine by me."

[snelbz]

Life As We Know It {Chapter 23}

Summary: After the sudden deaths of Nesta’s sister and Cassian’s best friend, they gain guardianship of their nephew, Nyx.

Based on Life As We Know It (2010) and a prompt sent in by anonymous for our Nessian fanfic contest. This is a modern au.

Instead of doing a tag list for this story, we have decided to have a set posting schedule. Chapters will be posted weekly on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays. Occasional surprise chapters could be posted at miscellaneous times. Chapters will be posted on both my and Tara’s blogs! >> @tacmc.​

Life As We Know It Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

Nesta was torn.

Half of her thought that Cassian was overreacting, but the other half of her thought that his anger and frustration was perfectly justified.

What exactly were they getting into? And, was it what was best for Nyx? Yeah, the last month had been great, but if it didn’t work out, what would that mean for him? Would it be better if she and Cassian had simply remained two friends, co-parenting under one roof?

Nesta’s heart began to beat a little faster.

She felt like she was going into a panic attack.

Cassian and Nyx had been gone for an hour, and every second that passed became more and more unbearable.

She needed him to be there.

She needed to figure this out.

She just didn’t know what the answer was.

Alis had gotten into her head, there was no doubt about that. A little over an hour ago, she was living in a dream, then Alis came in, out of nowhere, and brought her back to reality.

She was sitting on the couch, almost exactly where he’d left her, when he finally returned. He was covered in sweat, his t-shirt sticking to him. Nyx was having a conversation with him, more to himself though, since it didn’t seem like Cassian was even close to paying attention to him. But his eyes went directly to Nesta as soon as he walked in.

She’d changed. She no longer wore his t-shirt, instead in a loose shirt of her own and a pair of jeans, and her hair was loose and wet around her face. As if she’d need to shower their night together, shower him off of her. Not a shred of that beautiful skin was showing, not like she’d been doing lately. Leggings and shorts and tank tops. She’d been comfortable around him.

With a scoff, Cassian set Nyx down on the floor. He headed for the stairs, but Nesta stood, nearly toppling the cup of coffee she’d been clutching over as she set it on the coffee table. “Cassian, we need to talk about this.”

He paused, waving a hand towards her. “What for? It looks like you’ve already made your decision.”

“I need you to calm down,” she said, steadily. “I need you to think logically.”

Cassian closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I need you to tell me.”

Nesta hesitated. “Tell you what?”

“If this is something you want to pursue or if I just wasted the last couple months falling in love with you,” he finished.

His voice may have lacked emotion, but Nesta felt every word like a stab in the chest. Falling in love with you. Those were the words she was going to tell him today, under much different circumstances.

Now, she didn’t know what to think.

Now, she was overwhelmed.

Now, all of her thoughts were rushing toward the same spot in the middle of her skull at a thousand miles an hour, and when they got there, her head would explode.

“It’s not that easy,” she said, and her voice cracked.

“But it should be,” Cassian said. “If you feel the way that I do, it should be that easy.”

“We have to think of Nyx,” she breathed.

“I am thinking of Nyx,” he said, struggling to keep his voice low. At the sound of his name, the baby turned to look at him. “I want him to grow up in a happy home, seeing two people who love each other, and damn it if that isn’t how it’s been for the past few weeks.”

“It’s not that simple,” Nesta said, shaking her head. “What happens if we break up? What happens if we get in a fight or something happens to one of us? What then?”

He had strode down the stairs and was in front of her before he could stop himself. He framed her face in his hands, like he had so many times the past month, to kiss her, to make love to her, to show her how he cared for her. “Why are you worrying about the what if’s? Why are you worrying about what could go wrong, rather than how right everything has been?”

Because everything goes wrong eventually. The only reason we’re together is because we were shoved into this house after the worst thing imaginable happened. They died. We took over. What right do we have to be happy?

The words flooded her mind, but stilled on her tongue.

Nesta didn’t push him away. She wanted to reach up on her toes and kiss him, softly, but she didn’t.

Instead, she met his gaze. “Cass,” she breathed.

The pain in his eyes nearly shattered her heart into a million pieces.

Nyx had walked up to them and was hugging Nesta’s leg, as if he knew that she needed the comfort.

“Dont say my name like that,” he whispered.

Nesta slowly shook her head. “I just think this has all happened too quickly. We haven’t been thinking, we’ve just been acting-.”

“You’re pushing me away,” Cassian interrupted, swallowing harshly. “Damn it, Nesta.”

“You don’t understand,” she pleaded.

“Because you’re not making sense,” he argued. “Things have been perfect—”

“They’re dead!” She cried, pulling from his grip, scooping Nyx up. “Things have been far from perfect. We’re only like this now because Rhys and Feyre are dead.”

The words seemed to freeze something inside of Cassian and he stepped back as well. “So what? We go back to how we used to be? I’m back in the guest room and we awkwardly exchange good mornings over breakfast?”

She closed her eyes, trying to block out the sight of him, the scent of him, everything. “I don’t know, Cassian, I don’t—.” She took a shuddering breath, her arms wrapping tighter around Nyx. “I just need some time to think, to breathe…”

When she looked back up at him, his jaw was set and he was slowly nodding. “Fine. Take your time.”

And then he was moving, back up the stairs before Nesta could even ask what he was doing.

A few minutes later, he was back with a duffle bag in his hands.

“Wh—what are you doing?”

“Giving you space,” he said, refusing to meet her gaze.

Nesta opened her mouth but nothing came out. She was frozen where she stood, her feet stuck to the floor, her mouth hanging open, that panic rising from the pit of her stomach into her heart, which was beating far too quickly.

Cassian kissed Nyx on the forehead as he passed, but paid Nesta no mind as he went for the door.

“Cassian!” She called, at last.

Cassian stopped just in front of the door, keeping his back to her, one hand on the doorknob.

“You're just going to leave?” She asked, quietly, bouncing a sleepy Nyx on her hip. “Just like that?”

Cassian didn’t turn around. “Are you going to ask me to stay?”

Yes. No. I don’t know. Nesta said nothing.

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” he grumbled, exhaustion lacing his tone. “Maybe I need time to think, too.”

He opened the door and shut it softly behind him.

*

He didn’t know where else to go. He didn’t have anywhere else to go.

He knew where he wanted to be, but right now…

He couldn’t look at her.

It didn’t escape him that when he’d told her he’d fallen in love with her, she didn’t say it back. He couldn’t even act like he hadn’t seen her eyes flare in panic. So he couldn’t stay there. Couldn’t go back to sleeping in that guest room, not when he’d become so used to sleeping with her in his arms every night.

So Cassian had ended up here, knocking on his brother’s door, thankful that his car had been parked in the driveway when he pulled up.

He needed a drink. He needed someone to tell him he was being an asshole. He needed someone to listen while he vented and bitched. He knew Azriel would do all that for him.

When he answered the door, Seph was in his arms, pulling on his bottom lip. She smiled when she saw Cassian, but Azriel’s surprised smile quickly faded.

“Do I want to know?” He asked, looking at the duffel bag tossed over Cassian’s shoulder.

Cassian sighed, raking a hand through his hair. “Can I sleep here tonight?”

Azriel stared at him for a second before stepping aside and letting Cassian pass.

“Are we talking about this now or later?” Azriel asked, shutting the door behind them.

“Beer?” Cassian asked, dropping his bag beside the couch.

“Fridge,” Azriel said, slowly, watching him.

Cassian made his way to the kitchen and threw open the refrigerator door, grabbing a cold bottle and chugging its contents.

Azriel followed, leaning against the countertop and Seph continued to play with his lips.

“Where’s Elain?” Cassian asked, tossing the empty bottle into the trash and getting another.

“Work,” Azriel said, sighing. “So, if this involves smack talking Nesta, you may want to get it out now.”

He shook his head. He didn’t want to do that, barely wanted to think about her. But he owed Azriel at least some explanation.

“The social worker stopped by this morning,” he sighed, leaning back against the counter and opening the beer. “And honestly, yeah, it was unexpected, but I figured it’d be fine. Last time, Nes was drunk off her ass, but we— I figured, since we were more of a family this time, things would be great.”

Azriel blinked. “They’re not taking Nyx, are they?”

Another shake of his head. “No, gods, no. They— She could tell he was in good hands, but she immediately picked up on Nesta and I. What we’ve…become.”

It seemed, just like Cassian, Azriel didn’t see it as a problem. He wasn’t following. “And?”

“And Nyx was hungry so I left the social worker and Nesta alone to get him breakfast. I came back and she’s gone and Nesta is second-guessing our relationship. She asked if I’m just fucking her out of convenience.”

The thought made him sick to his stomach, almost as badly as it hurt his heart.

“And you replied with…” Azriel began, trailing off, waiting for Cassian to finish the sentence.

“I went for a jog,” Cassian said, shrugging.

“So you ran away?” Azriel pushed.

Cassian shot him a look. “No. I went for a jog.”

Azriel sighed. “And when you came back?”

“She said she needed space,” Cassian said, emptying his bottle.

Azriel set Seph on the floor with a plastic spatula, which she instantly start banging on the cabinets. “And that’s when you ran away?”

“I didn’t run,” Cassian snapped. “I gave her what she wanted. I gave her space.”

Azriel slowly shook his head. “Did you even try to talk things out?”

“Yes,” Cassian said, the word clipped. “Told her I was falling in love with her, and guess how she replied?”

Azriel watched his brother.

“Didn’t say a fucking word,” Cassian finished.

When Azriel didn’t speak, he walked back to the trash can, dropping the bottle inside.

“Quit looking at me like I’m the bad guy here,” he said, unable to turn around and look his brother in the eye. “She was ending it. She was calling things off and I’m supposed to, what? Just keep living there like we were before? Pretend nothing has changed?” He swallowed hard, willing the damn tears clouding his vision to fade. They wouldn’t. “She didn’t even ask me to stay.”

Azriel sighed, opening a cabinet beside the fridge that Seph couldn’t reach. He produced a bottle of whiskey and set it on the counter. “I can’t drink until Elain gets home. And I absolutely think you need to talk to Nesta, but I think you’re right. You need to stay here tonight. Give her space.”

Cassian blinked, and a tear that was holding on slid free, down his cheek. He angrily wiped it away. He felt ridiculous, but it had been a long time since he had told a woman that he loved her. He’d never said it in his adulthood. A couple times in his teens, before he knew what the word really meant, but never as an adult.

He’d said it.

He’d meant it.

And she hadn’t felt the same.

Cassian nodded and poured himself a glass of whiskey.

*

Nesta stared at Cassian’s contact on her phone screen.

She wanted to press the call button, but didn’t.

She did open a blank text a few times, but couldn’t type anything.

She didn’t know what to think, didn’t know what to do.

She knew what she wanted.

She wanted Cassian.

But, she didn’t know if that was a good thing or not.

She had never been one who was dependent on a man, had spent most of her twenties single and having no problem with it. But suddenly, she couldn’t imagine her day to day life without Cassian in it. And that terrified her.

She heard murmuring on the baby monitor sitting next to her on the side table and glanced over to see Nyx sitting up in his crib.

It had been nearly three hours since Cassian left, and aside from putting Nyx down for a nap, Nesta had barely moved. She still sat in the same spot on the couch she’d been in when the social worker had shown up and when she’d ignored that Cassian had said that he loved her.

The words should have filled her with joy and she should have screamed from the rooftops that she loved him, too. Instead she locked up and thought she was going to be sick.

What was wrong with her?

Wiping away the tears she didn’t even realize had fallen, Nesta hurried up the stairs, and into Nyx’s nursery. He reached for her the moment he saw her, his own big, blue eyes beginning to fill with tears.

“What’s wrong, bubba?” She cooed, resting his head against her shoulder.

After a deep sigh, he looked up at her and reached for a tear that had fallen down her cheek. His lip began to wobble.

“I’m okay,” Nesta promised, even though her voice cracked and those tears continued. “I’m okay, buddy, I promise.”

Nyx knew, though.

He knew something wasn’t right.

He knew Cassian was gone.

He knew Nesta was heartbroken.

Little did he know that her heartbreak was self-inflicted.

Nyx laid his head back on her shoulder and clung to her. He stayed like that as she walked back downstairs and sat back in her spot on the couch.

He held onto her, looking around the room. She knew he was looking for him and was about to tell him he wasn’t here when he spoke. The word wasn’t a mash up of noises like it had always been. No, it was a true and steady word. His first word.

“Dada?”

Nesta froze. She didn’t even know what to say. Should she tell him Cassian wasn’t his father? He probably wouldn’t even understand, just like he didn’t understand where Rhys and Feyre had gone.

But…for all intents and purposes, Cassian was his daddy now. And she was his mama.

So she pressed a kiss to his dark hair and whispered. “He had to leave, baby. He had to go for a little while.”

Nesta hoped and prayed that Cassian would walk back through that door, and yet, she couldn’t muster the courage to ask him to.

That night, instead of Cassian taking up the spot next to her, it was Nyx, who held her hand until they both fell asleep.

[bibliocratic]

clear the area jonmartin, post-MAG200 content warnings in the tags

They earn their ending. A happy-ever-after beyond the gaze of any eyes.

Jon endures his abdication. This world has no Archivists, has need of none, the thankless crown of Knowing finally unburdened from his shoulders. The blood washes off Martin’s hands with soap and scrubbing and scalding water. They live.

The end. In conclusion. Fin.

-

Jon’s new scar, the packaging of his skin split ragged from collarbone to sternum, fades like sun-caught paint. A maw of red pursing to a gummy primrose pink, settling into a rough cartography of white.

The first few months are hard. Brimstone flare-up silences and ice-pick shouting, open-handed forgiveness and closed-fist weeping. They drain themselves to husks with anger and worry and grief until there is enough space for better things to grow there in their stead. Jon’s nightmares were a nightly stormfront to bear, sweated sheets and dawn fanfares of panic and dread, but he is learning now, with the space for his ribs to expand, that it is ok for them to breathe here.

Jon digs up the garden with a rusty trowel until it is a bumpy canvas of mulch and soil, dirt tucked under his fingernails and decorated with smudges up to his elbows. He hums while he irons their shirts in front of the television, thoughtless and senseless with tune.

Martin has tried to, but the sound goes down the wrong way.

-

Martin is happy.

-

It isn’t the sight as such, that might sit as a film over his vision to tinge his waking sepia. The reddest thing they own is a terracotta plant plot brimming with raggedy thyme that lives a precarious cliff-top existence on the kitchen windowsill. He observes Jon’s face in all its variations, even pained – when he snags splinters in his fingers, when he stubs his toe on the stone front step and swears damnation – and his response is sympathy tempered by admonishment.

It’s not the sensation, not really, that might tremble on his skin. Martin’s palms tend to dryness inside their homely bubble of creaky central heating, hemmed in by boisterous coastal winds. He handles bread knives and butter knives and steak knives and carving knives without the muscle memory of other blades, and he thinks he might be getting pretty handy with his oven experimentation.

It’s the sound. It wakes him, the noise lingering like the echo of a slap.

The slick punch of metal into muscle. A tooth-bared, tense-jawed gasp.

Resurfacing to shocked consciousness, he would be seized by a frenzy, to know, to check. His scattering hand scrabbling for the lamp with such force he hit it off the nightstand to roll in a giddy clatter, throwing off the covers to rapidly pollute both of them with the outside air. Jon would be rocked from sleep, groggy, panicked, and Martin’s words would not come, a train of thought trying to race full steam where no one had laid tracks, so it would be just the two of them, exhausted and upset and amping the other up in misery.

Now, upon his rousing, Martin knows not to turn on the light. He does not check. The aftermath of punch-gasp curls in his ear, and he inhale-exhale-inhales with the ferocity of mantra, and clamps the threatened tears in the clench of his teeth.

He does not wake Jon.

-

“How did you sleep?”

“Oh, you know me. Like a log.”

-

He is happy. He is. Why wouldn’t he be?

--

Jon rumbles like a rusty mechanism with snoring whenever he drops off on his back, and he mumbles accusatory when Martin coaxes him to his side. Martin finds black hairs on his pillowcase, in the shower plug. Jon is a vista of experience since the Eye left him, who gets hungry and tired and grumpy and drunk and silly and fed-up and giggly. Jon searches him out with the surety of magnets, and loves him, loves him, loves him. He seals kisses to Martin’s new landscape of extensive scars. Their disagreements, when they surface, are as meaningful and lasting as stones skipped on water.

Martin wanted this. He wants this. The rhythms of domesticity fading to foam on an untroubled shore.

He is out of practise with happiness, that’s all. It doesn’t come to him like breathing. He needs to till the earth of it, shelter its seeds from a thousand circling crows until it bears harvest.

He just has to try harder.

-

Night-time.

An episode or two of something simple, Jon nodding off like a capsizing ship before the credits. Encouraging him up in grousing, unwilling increments, rubbing out the nettle sting of pins and needles up his own arm. Check the locks, the light switches. Brush teeth. Pyjamas. Put his phone to charge, read until Jon succumbs to sleep. Click the light off, pushing Jon onto his side so his mouth doesn’t dry. Jon squirming around like a fastidious octopus until he has at least half his limbs hooked over Martin.

The dark creating shadow play. In the absence, Martin colouring in the gaps with lurid shades of disaster.

A creak – the rattle of a door downstairs, an intruder unfastening the back door, transferring their weight upon the staircase. A unfamiliar scent – the recollection of smoke-stench in his nostrils, the acrid promise of gas, the ferrous pungency of blood. The rain will flood their house to drown them. The wind will blow their roof in. Jon hooks his leg around Martin, the skin void of hair where Daisy’s mouth had almost torn it off, and all he can envision is the ways this could be destroyed as he watches.

Bundle Jon close. Ignore the rain, the itch at the bottom of his stomach, the queasy roil of his fear. Drift into unkind sleep populated with its garden of earthly terrors.

-

Martin is… not happy. Not exactly. And that’s fine. It’s fine.

-

Jon is happy.

-

Jon, rubbing at the compression lines around his hips, the accusatory splay of the top button refusing to budge closed:

“I can’t fit into my jeans.”

Martin enfolds him from behind, planting his palms over the slight paunch of Jon’s stomach, filled out through sensible eating and small indulgences and a hunger that will never be ravenous but has restored its human qualities.

“Hmm. It’s a good look on you. Healthier.”

“Or it’s middle age.”

“Or it’s eating things that aren’t tea and meal-deal sandwiches.”

“Or other people’s terror.”

“Oh yes, you’re right, I completely forgot about your subsistence diet of eldritch and unbidden horrors in a luscious wholegrain wrap, forgive me.”

Jon laughs at that. The sound has not yet lost its novelty for either of them.

He shifts, turns, his arms a buoy around Martin’s stomach.

“You’ve lost weight.”

“Must be all the clean air,” Martin quips. “All that healthy living.”

-

Punch. Gasp. Exhale.

Martin wakes up.

When his heart has wound down from the pace of its gallop, he extricates himself from Jon’s grip. It is a laborious task to find the places where they’ve joined in the night and pull them apart, like separating fabric snagged on rosebushes.

He gets some water from the cold tap in the kitchen. Sits heavily on the sofa, the room cossetted by the gloom.

Punch. Gasp. Exhale.

His hands shake.

He doesn’t go back to bed.

-

He isn’t happy, but he could grow to be. He could. He could. He just isn’t trying hard enough.

-

Some days, he feels like he’s waiting for the ice to give under them.

Check the passers-by as they walk. Anyone familiar, any teeth filed too sharp, anything animal or blood-shot, any eyes that glance too deep.

Check the oven. The gas knobs are angled to off but a leak is not impossible in a house this old, their alarm might malfunction, they might fall asleep and some spark from a plug socket could catch and incite a conflagration.  

Check the window latches. The opening wide enough for a body to squirm through, the claws of a Hunter marring the sill. Wriggling infestations that invade through the letter box, the keyhole, the gap under the door where the wind can whistle through.

Check. Check. Check.

-

Jon is happy. Jon has a job, work friends, a hundred small luxuries that he has struggled to earn. Jon is happy, so why can’t he be? He went through so much less, the blood washed off easily with soap, what the fuck does he have to cry over –

-

Martin has always crafted his masks from scrap, tongue out in concentration, piecing things together in low light, a make-do-and-mend of his own devising. His early efforts, the paper mâché and glue easily cracked before he learned to shore up his constructions. He has a small collection garnered over years.

The quiet-voiced, muffled-stepped, muted-smiled creation of a Good Son.

The zipped-mouth, no-refusals-no-complaints-yes-of-course-how-high earnestness of the Good Employee, the desperation sanded off the edges so no one could see.

The I’ll-get-the-first-round friendliness, the open-handed, open-hearted, too-naïve Good Colleague.

This new mask forms in increments, in the same way a rising mound of dirt marks the extent of a grave being dug.

He doesn’t mean to. It’s just he’s better at not talking about things. He always has been. And it is an ugly, easy comfort, to slip back into bad habits.

And Jon is happy.

All the things Martin does not wish to permit the light to touch he compresses inside like shaken soda. The rot in him deepens structural, the places where he papers over moulds and fungal speckles with the distraction of their new life. His smile parades simple, contented, cheeky, teasing, and there is a meticulous artistry in each. He sketches interest, paints joy, manufactures irritation out of the clay of nothingness that he allows himself to feel instead of the overwhelming rush of everything else.

I love you, his mouth murmurs, laughs, sighs, groans, and that at least is always true.

The mask of a Good Partner slips on tailor-made.

-

They find their nine-to-fives. Jon’s job is uneventful, boring, and nowhere near an Archive. He works in a registry office for the council, filing and organising and he’s cheerfully lied on his CV in order to get it. He gets the bus and texts Martin grumpy faces and GIFs summarising his mood when he gets suck in the commute or some idiot parks in a bus lane, he has a couple of colleagues he likes and a greater number that he tolerates, he gets a hot chocolate from this universe’s overpriced multinational chain on his lunch hour. When he gets home, he complains with delight at the mundanity of his dissatisfactions, regales Martin with tales of meagre drama.

Martin gets a cleaning job at a school. It is monotonous, dull and safe. Martin loses track of the time easily, quagmired in his musings. The children are wary of him and his visible scarring but it doesn’t bother him as much as he thought it would. The teachers are friendly enough, as well as the other cleaning staff, but he does not make friends. They’ll have to move anyway, if anything finds them here, if the Fears emerge again.

Martin tries not to feel like he’s waiting.

-

He wants to have a good night’s sleep.

-

“I’ll have breakfast at the school, don’t worry.”

“There were some leftovers from the canteen, so I’m kind of full.”

“It was one of the teacher’s birthdays, you know, Denise? Heh, might have had a bit too much cake. I’ll pop this in the fridge for later though, it’ll keep till tomorrow.”

“I’m just not that hungry tonight, Jon.”

-

He feels sharper when he doesn’t eat. It is uncomfortable, a scratched-out, hollowing sensation, but things focus more. He can control nothing else but this, and it feels good, to have this mastery over himself when so much is beyond him.

He drops down notches on his belt and tells Jon it’s all the walking he’s doing.

-

The world continues to happen to them. He goes to the cinema with Jon and picks at popcorn and encourages Jon’s outraged opinion. He meets Jon’s mildly interesting work friends and plays nice and excels at small talk, and he drinks half a cider that he nurses over the evening because it’s making his head fuggy. His body communicates its sharpness to him and he gains grim satisfaction from ignoring it. He goes to work and goes home and doesn’t sleep and goes to work and goes home and doesn’t sleep.

Martin does his best at living, and his mask doesn’t slip.

-

“You seem tired,” Jon pries his words out carefully, picking them out of his teeth as one would scraps. “Is… is everything ok?”

“Yeah, sure it is. Why?”

“…  you seem a bit down today. Recently. Is anything… is there anything you want to talk about?”

“I’ve just been working too hard. Been a while since I had to do double-shifts, heh, I’m not as young as I used to be.”

“If you’re sure?”

Jon shifts to a different position where he’s sat on the sofa, his legs tucking up under him. Martin endures his questioning gaze with practise.

“Yeah, I’m all good.”

Martin delivers a hand-crafted smile that’s gilded heavily with guilelessness and reassurance. He watches as Jon believes him and hates himself.

-

“You know… You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but you can – you know you can talk to me, Martin?”

Martin’s eyes focus on Jon’s chest at the point where a knife once sunk in, and doesn’t reply.

-

Punch. Gasp. Exhale.

Martin wakes up.

Jon has twisted over onto his back again, rattling like a chain-smoker’s cough with his snoring. They were quiet that evening, tangled up in their own thoughts, but there is none of that distance in sleep. During the night, Jon’s wormed himself out of the covers with a single-minded determination, his restless legs squashing the duvet to the bottom of the bed on his side, encouraging Martin’s to follow suit.

He’s shirtless, his top chucked off to pile unceremoniously on the floor. The temperature is ripe with a burgeoning summer heat, and Jon tosses and complains if he’s overwarm, and Martin didn’t think he’d get to feel the drudgery of another lived summer. He’s shirtless, and the room is palled in sweltering dark that softens the vague shapes of the wardrobe, the chest of drawers, the knickknacks of the life they’re building together. He’s shirtless, and Martin cannot see where the scar is, the only scar of Jon’s he has ever thought ugly, but he knows it is there. That he put it there. That he could just as easily be waking up alone.

His body pains him to live in it. His stomach tight and bottomed out empty.

He is so so tired.

Martin’s heartbeat does not slow down. His chest constricting, and he swallows, a sharp sound hiccupping in his throat. He stifles it with a forceful sniff but more come as a painful spasming wave, and he has to sit up if any air is to dribble into his lungs.

He should get up. He has to get up, do this in the bathroom, doubled-over the sink, stifling his weakness where it cannot be witnessed. He cannot do this here.

Punch. Gasp.

His burning face is soaked as he bunches up his sleeves against his reddening eyes. A calming exhale drains out shaky, moulds itself into another loud sob. He plants his hands over his mouth, screwing his eyes closed, and this will pass, he’s fine, this will pass…

“Martin?”

I’m sorry to wake you, he thinks to say. It’s nothing, go back to sleep, stop looking at me Jon, I’m fine, I’m fine, it’s nothing, it’s nothing…

His shoulders start to shake.

“Martin?” Jon repeats slowly. And the ice creaks and cracks and Martin gasps and then it breaks, and the force of his damned-up grief is tidal, catastrophic and he sobs into his hands.

“It’s… it’s alright – it’s… it was a nightmare, that’s all, ‘s alright…”

“It’s not!” Martin bubbles out, the words mashed to a wail in his hands. “It’s not, it’s not, it’ll ruin this…”

“Hey.” Jon brings his arm around Martin and he buries his head in the bony crook of his shoulder because he does not want to meet Jon’s eyes. “What do you mean? Martin?”

Jon rubs at his back. Martin’s body betrays him in a hundred ways as it collapses around him. His weeping wrings him out, dry-mouthed and headachy and trembling when he subsides into shivery breaths.

“Talk to me,” Jon says. “Please.”

“You’re so happy,” Martin sniffs out. “I-I want you to be happy, god, o-of course I do. Things are, they’re good, they’re good and we won, s-s-so why does it feel like I’m still holding my breath? I-I go to bed and I’m frightened of every noise, and I wake up and I’m terrified that someone somehow could take this all away, and I can’t sleep, and I-I’m tired, Jon, I’m tired of holding my breath, and it’s all – it’s all so much a-a-a-and I can’t – ”

“Oh, Martin – ”

His words fail him then. Jon holds him up and his arms do not loosen.

“We-we’re going to fix this,” Jon says after a long while. “I promise you, together, we’ll – we’ll talk to someone. You aren’t alone in this. Together, alright, we’ll do this together. We’ve survived – everything else, we can get through this too.”

“I don’t know if I can believe you,” Martin says, too drained to avoid honesty.

“…Maybe not yet,” Jon says after a pause. “That’s OK. I can wait.”

I’m sorry, Martin attempts to say but Jon presses a kiss to his forehead.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Jon says. He strokes Martin’s sweat-soaked hair.

“… Can we talk? Tomorrow? You don’t have to tell me everything, but… I’d like to be there for you, if you want me. If you’ll let me.”

Martin nods because he doesn’t trust his gummed-up throat. Jon takes that as an answer.

Dawn comes in slowly enough but they see it in together.

[donutloverxo]

Yes captain

Note - this is part three of corrupting a good boy but it's mostly porn so can be read as a standalone as well. Sorry about all the jealousy stuff its just what the muse calls for sometimes. Comments/reblogs are really really appreciated🙏🙏 Dividers by @whimsicalrogers.

Summary - You ask Steve to keep it on while doing it 👀👀

Warnings - 18+ only explicit sexual content, uniform kink, captain kink, daddy kink, roleplaying, jealousy, insecure reader.

Pairing - CEO!Steve x reader

Word count - 4.5k

“Ooo,” you yelped, trying to run away from his firm grip across your hips.

It only made him hold onto you tighter, his nails digging into the flesh of your hips. “There’s no where to run, babygirl,” he chuckled at your misery, delivering another harsh slap to your naked bottom.

You shrieked in pain as your flesh burned in agonising, but delicious pleasure. As if you’d ever want to actually run. “I’m sorry, daddy.” Since you were allowed to call him daddy now, which seemed to always make him forgive you, but you added your princess voice just to be safe and not make it any harder on yourself.

“You should’ve thought of that before you decided to make fun of my team, but you had to be a dumb baby and run your mouth,” he scolded you, slapping you twice before slipping a hand between your legs, the squelching noises of him gathering your slick on his fingers made your ears burn.

You had gotten too bored of him watching the game and not paying attention to you so you might’ve said some mean things about his team, but the jokes on him since your diabolical plan seemed to have worked.

You had gotten too lost in slight tinge of pain in the roots of your hair, that he was pulling, and his fingers teasing your core, you yelped forward when he slapped your pussy, gasping as you throbbed for more of it.

“Honey,” Steve shook your arm causing you to jolt awake.

You had a habit of talking or mumbling nonsense in your sleep and since he was a light sleeper it usually woke him up. He found your incoherent rambles and the little faces you made in your sleep cute, they were particularly intense tonight for some reason, and while he loved you with all his heart he was not about to let you talk nonsense about the Yankees.

“What? Where?” you sat up, rubbing the soft sheen of sweat on your forehead with the back of your hand.

“You were talking in your sleep, sweetheart,” Steve said, rubbing his hand up and down your back, “Come here.” He circled a hand around your waist, pulling you down and back against his chest, kissing the back of your head, “What were you dreaming about, hm?”

“Um...” you blinked, “How much of it did you hear?”

“You think your so clever, don’t you,” he teased, pinching the side of your hip as you giggled.

“Yes, I’m very smart.”

You shut your eyes, ready to go back to dreamland and to your daddy, who was just a version of Steve who liked being called daddy. Which was something Steve would never be into. Not that you’d ever admit to having such a shameful kink.

But you felt Steve grind his excitement against your ass, “You wanna go back to sleep, or...?” he asked, biting the shell of your ear before snaking a hand up your cami to grope your breast.

“You woke me up with such debauch intention?!” you gasped in fake incredulity. Deciding to indulge him and that any time spent with normal real Steve was much better than being with dream daddy Steve.

***

You fixed his tie, tightening it just a bit around his neck. His golden hair was smoothed back, your eyes caught a glimpse of his rosy pink lips. So pouty and perfect. You could spend hours just looking at them, his smile was what truly made you fall for him. But you pulled away when he tried to steal a kiss from you.

“Gloss,” you argued, puckering your lips. Instantly feeling guilty as his pink ones pouted, giving you his sweet puppy eyes.

“Come on, doll, just one kiss? Don’t you wanna wish me luck?” He bent to capture your lips but you moved your head away at the last second, making him groan as his nose bumped against your cheek.

“I spent over two hours getting ready for this!” you huffed, smoothening a hand over your puffy tulle dress, finally having a chance to wear it out in public.

“Did you just smudge my blush?” Gasping, as you looked into the mirror, picking up your rouge and patting it on again.

You loved the dress Steve had gotten you for Christmas, it was so pretty and princess and you felt like Cinderella wearing it.

But it was too... girl-ish, Steve had insisted that you wear it. So he could show off his beautiful new wife.

Tonight though, you had to look like a woman.

A strong woman.

Who is not to be fucked around with. And not someone who is vulnerable and weak.

Because you knew she was going to be there.

“You always look gorgeous,” he mumbled, looking in the mirror and patting his hair to make sure it was in place.

You had convinced him to grow it out. Having more courage to express yourself since the Christmas gift mishap a couple of months ago.

Tucking a loose golden strange behind his ear, you wondered how someone as breathtakingly as beautiful as him could be yours.

But as beautiful as Steve was, he could also be naive. He wanted to see the best in people, which often didn’t let him see what was right in front of him.

How his ex Peggy had been trying to cause problems between you two from day one.

At first she had welcomed you with open arms, with a treacherous smile her red lips had told you that she wanted to be best friends with you. Taking you to the MET museum, of which she was a board member, asking your help in organising a couple of galas and the fundraisers. Shopping with you to make you more presentable to be a CEO’s wife

You were prepared to be wary of her. The fact that Steve was still good friends with his ex, who he had dated for more than five years, didn’t exactly sit well with you, you knew you’d face some troubles there, but then you met her and spent time with her you knew that you did had nothing to worry about.

That was until she, and Steve’s mother, had tried to get you to sign a pre-nup before you both got married.

While Sarah was always nice, you could always sense a tinge of hostility, your intuition told you how she preferred Peggy over you and would much rather have her as Steve’s wife.

With a heavy heart you had told Steve you couldn’t do it. That there was no point in getting married if you would end up divorced eventually. You were ready to cut your losses then, to pack your bags and go home, preparing for the worst. But he understood and said that he wouldn’t be marrying you if he didn’t trust you.

You were glad to have worked out everything, but decided to play nice with ‘Judas', whom you learned had infamously betrayed Jesus from a mass you attended with Steve and Sarah, and pretend that you didn’t know anything about her betrayal.

You shook your head, there was no point in letting her ruin your night, or dictate what you wore. The dress was what you liked and who you were, there was no reason for you to pretend to be like her. Steve liked you because you were nothing like her,

....probably.

You looked over to Steve, tugging his pants up and securing them, you had never once thought you’d be someone who’d have a thing for men in uniforms, they were simply doing their jobs, what the fuck was sexy about uniforms anyway, but that was until you saw your Steve in his...

He really could pull off any color, even something as boring as army green, his chest and built looked almost too broad. Numerous medals adorning his chest. He certainly looked the part of a soldier.

He kissed your temple when he caught you staring at him and you only hoped he couldn’t decipher what was going on in that horny brain of yours.

Steve rarely ever talked about his days in the army. If he did it was about the friends he made and the good times he shared with them. And how army whipped him in shape, made him the man he was.

He had been honorably discharged a couple of years ago, all his army friends only ever spoke highly of him--which wasn’t really surprising.

***

“Hello, darling,” she smiled to you in her classy British accent, kissing your cheek before hugging you, “How have you been? Haven’t seen you since new years!”

“I’m good and you look amazing.”

Which wasn’t a complete lie, she did look elegant in her uniform, a lot similar to Steve’s but her coat had flares at the end which gave it a more feminine feel than that of Steve’s.

“So do you,” she beamed, “Oh, you have a little something,” she gestured to the corner of your mouth before wiping some white frosting from your cupcake off with her thumb as you tried to keep your face from cringing.

So far the strong woman act wasn’t coming along so well...

“So...how is married life?”

Wouldn’t you like to know. “It’s very good. You know Steve, he’s just amazing. I’m lucky to have him.”

“Oh, I did heard about your little goof with your erotica from Natalie, and the gift slip up!” she laughed, hooking her arm around yours, she walked with you towards your husband. “And here I was thinking you are a good girl,” she winked.

“I... guess I’m not...”

“I must say though, unfortunately for you I don’t think Steve would like any of that. He’s always been so traditional,” she rolled her eyes, “He has an old soul.”

Yes, you knew that. You knew that he was traditional and an old soul. Of course You did, he was your husband. Why she felt the need to point out the obvious was beyond you. “Well, you know people can be unpredictable,” you countered.

“Yes, well you’re free to explore of course, I just didn’t want you to get your feelings hurt,” she put a hand over yours.

“Peggy,” Steve greeted her.

“Oh don’t mind us. We’re just gossiping about you,” she smirked.

“Really?” he looked over at you with a quizzical face, “All good things I hope.”

“I don’t have anything bad to say about you,” you said giving Peggy a side eye, “Can we dance? Please?”

It didn’t take a lot of convincing because he loved dancing. After a couple of dances it was time for him to give his speech.

Seeing your husband up on the stage, hearing everyone talk about his accomplishments made your heart swell in pride. You really couldn’t believe you were married to someone like him.

You suppose that you understood where Sarah was coming from. It would make sense for someone like Steve to fall for and marry a classy worldly lady like Peggy. There really wasn’t much you could offer him.

***

“Steve,” you huffed, trying to yank on the zipper for like the tenth time, while you loved the dress you needed to get out of it and breathe for a while.

“Yes, doll?” he called for you, entering your closet, smiling at your struggling form. “How can I help?”

“You can get me out of this thing!” you said, turning your back to him.

You were really feeling yourself tonight, you had gotten a facial and a manipedi, a blowout, spending hours on getting ready for battle. You thought you looked good and fierce. But then you took off your makeup and your extensions and were reminded of how Peggy was much more effortlessly beautiful than you. She had often been dubbed as a ‘natural beauty’.

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“Is something bothering you?” he asked as he unzipped you.

“No. Will you let me change now?” you turned around, to politely ask him to leave.

“You’ve changed in front of me before.”

“Yes, well I can’t right now.”

“Why not?” he frowned.

“Because...” You couldn’t stop your eyes from turning misty, “I’m ugly...”

“What? Who told you that?” His face instantly flushed with anger as he held onto your forearms, and when you didn’t push him away he pulled you in closer to his chest.

“No one needs to. I know it because I’m not blind,” you confessed, the cool metal of his medal digging into your cheek.

“Then maybe we need to get your eye sight checked. Because you’re the prettiest girl in this whole world. I’ll fight anyone who says otherwise.” He stroked your hair, placing a soft kiss on the top of your head.

“You’ll have to fight the whole world then.”

“If it comes to that then I will.”

You couldn’t help but smile at how protective he was. Propping your chin up on his chest you blinked at him. “Why didn’t you marry Peggy? She’s so much more beautiful.” Your heart was heavy with so many emotions, usually you wouldn’t give in and ask something so dangerous--a question you weren’t sure you wanted the answer to.

Judging by the frown on his face, you were afraid that you had upset him, but then it softened as his pale baby blues twinkled at you, “Why would you say that, doll? Peggy is beautiful, but I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you. I could never even dream of marrying anyone else.”

“I’m sorry,” you sighed. “I know I shouldn’t be comparing myself to others.”

“You really shouldn’t. They don’t measure up to you anyway,” he teased.

“It’s just...” you gulped, not being able to hold his gaze you played with the olive green buttons on his coat, “I heard at the party from Tony, that she will be working with you from now on. Do you think that’s a good idea?”

“You don’t trust me?” his voice cracked.

You whipped your head up, frantically shaking your head from side to side, “No no of course I do! I’m just saying it’s a risky game. To be around her so much... what if old feelings resurface?”

Your heart almost broke as he let go of you, putting some distance between you both, “You know all I ever ask for is that you trust me... and love me. I don’t think it’s a lot.”

You scoffed, “Yeah well, I don’t think me asking you not to work with your ex is a lot. No woman would be okay with her husband spending that much time with her ex.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose, “Why can’t I get through to you?”

“Maybe try speaking at a fourth grade level. Then I’ll understand. Since I don’t have a masters in literature from Sorbonne,” you rolled your eyes. Maybe he was intimidated by how smart Peggy is and decided to go for someone younger and dumber.

“I’ve never... been in love with Peggy or anyone but you really,” he told you, his broad shoulders hunching as he let out a sigh, “Not the way I’m in love with you. We were always more like friends than... lovers.”

“Is that better or worse?” you wondered out loud. Isn’t it important for husband and wife to be friends as well? Was that supposed to be a compliment?

“It’s much better. We would go months without seeing each other, and I didn’t miss her. Like I miss you when I’m at work. I can’t wait to get away and come home to you. Peggy is amazing, and I’ll always have a special place for her in my heart, but I would never even think about cheating on you.

But... I understand where you’re coming from. Maybe I would react the same way if you were to work with an ex. So I can just tell her that she’ll have to work with Nat, or someone else.”

“No,” you blurted.

Absolutely not.

Because A - You really did trust Steve not to stray. He wasn’t that type of man. And B - That would be admitting defeat. Admitting to her that you are afraid of her.

“I do trust you, Steve. I think... I just need to work on myself. If we don’t have trust then we don’t have anything right?”

“I trust you too, honey,” he kissed your forehead. “Just talk to me about this stuff okay? You can’t keep it bottled up.” You nodded as he worked on loosening his tie.

“Um... is that uncomfortable?” you asked, watching him pop open the first button of his shirt.

“The uniform? A little. It’s been a while since I put it on.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t wear it at our wedding.” You smiled. Maybe it was a good thing that he didn’t. While he looked so handsome in the black tux he had worn, the uniform would’ve made him irresistible. You would’ve spent the whole evening swooning over him.

“It didn’t feel right, I just wanted to be myself. Uh... doll,” he quirked a brow as he caught you staring at his crotch, “Hey,” he snapped his fingers, “My eyes are up here.”

“Yes, um, of course,” you whipped your head up as soon as you heard him, since you were too busy trying to make out the outline of his johnson, “And what beautiful eyes you have!”

“Tell me something. What is your obsession with this uniform?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” You decided to feign ignorance.

“Really? You’ve been staring at me all night. Do you not like it? Do you like it? Sometimes I think I don’t understand women at all.”

You probably would’ve appreciated his suit even more so if you hadn’t spent so much time festering in your jealousy. “I think... it’s... kinda hot,” you sighed dreamily as he blushed a crimson red. “You’re like this big strong Captain, and I’m like this small woman, like a damsel in distress type of thing.”

“Oh.” Was the only thing that he said. He never believed you would be into something like that, not from all the feminist rants you tend to go on.

“Oh god. You think I’m a weirdo, don’t you?” You put your hands over your face to hide it from him.

“No no, hey, don’t be like that,” he cooed, pulling your hands away so he could look at your pretty face, “I can be your... big, strong Captain. And you can be my damsel in distress.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah. So... how would it work? Do I save you from a burning building or something?”

“No, sweetie. You’re thinking of a fireman.”

“Oh, right,” he blushed, scratching the back of his neck, “We can do the fireman thing if you like. I can... be a fireman.”

“Steve, we don’t have to do anything.”

“I know. But I want to. Come on! Give me something to work with.”

“Okay,” you cleared your throat. “How about... you keep the suit on?”

“On for how long?” he tilted his head like a cute confused puppy, looking down at his suit, “Oh! You mean on while we’re...”

“Yes. And I could, I don’t know, thank you for serving my country.”

“Yeah. I mean medals and all are nice, but I want a special kind of thanks from you, doll.”

“Ooo,” you felt up his biceps through his coat and shirt, he really was strong. “Do you have anything specific in mind?” you asked, batting your lashes.

“Um... yes.... You get on your knees, miss... I mean ma’am, shit,” he cursed as he awkwardly stumbled over his words. “What do I call you? Are you my wife in this scenario?”

“You can just call me doll, captain. I’ll be whatever you want me to be,” you smiled, cheekily pressing your lips to his in a quick peck but he held onto your waist before you could pull away. Sliping his tongue inside your mouth.

“Alright then, doll. Show me how grateful you are,” he puffed his chest out, so he could appear a bit more dominant.

You only giggled, taking your dress off because there was no way you could kneel in so much tulle.

Standing before him in just a strapless bra and a nude thong, you were vulnerable, but not scared anymore. He was your captain, he’d never ridicule you.

“I’m already feeling appreciated,” he said as he ogled you.

You dropped down to your knees, unbuckling him with some help from him, “It’s so big,” you gasped when you looked at his length, pretending to be seeing it for the first time. Although, you were still always surprised with the sheer monstrosity of it.

“We’ll make it fit, doll. Don’t you worry your pretty little head about that,” he smiled, tapping on your mouth, “Open,” he commanded.

You’re a natural, captain. You took a deep breath before opening wide. You’d been having sex regularly for the past three months or so, he had gone down on you more times than you could count, you felt as if he could live between your legs if he could. But he had never once asked you to return the favor, you didn’t have it in you to be the first one to bring it up either.

Licking your lips, you tasted someone of the preejaculate leaking out of his tip before wrapping your mouth around his head, moaning at the salty taste and the essence of him.

“That’s... ugh,” he groaned, “That’s good. Keep going,” he spurred you on, a hand on the back of your head giving you the slightest bit of push.

You took as much of him as you could, stopping halfway through when he hit the back of your throat, you pumped the rest of his length with your palm, holding onto his thick thigh for support, you bobbed your head, increasing your pace when he started moaning loudly.

Rubbing your thighs together to relive some pressure, your throbbing core desperate for some attention and friction, you knew your panties were ruined.

You had read your fair share of cosmos, and the many sex tips they offered, you knew they’d come in handy someday. You swore you remembered reading something about balls... to suck them? Bite them?

You fondled his balls, feeling him tightening in your palm, you were ready to swallow all of you. That was the only proper way of saying thank you.

“Wait,” he growled, pulling you off of him.

You looked up at him, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, doll,” he heaved, “But I gotta come in your pussy.”

Your jaw dropped, to hear the golden boy using such filthy language. “Whatever you say, captain,” you rasped.

Gasping when he yanked you up, pulling you over his shoulder and carrying you to the bed before throwing you down on the mattress.

Although Steve had always been dominant in bed, it was somewhat lowkey and subtle, he was never rough with you, he treated you as if you were made of glass, right now he was treating you as if you were literally a ragdoll.

“Take off your panties,” he ordered you.

You followed quickly, desperate to have him inside you asap, rolling your thing down your thighs and then getting rid of your bra before he even had to ask. You looked at him through your lashes, waiting patiently for his next command.

He hesitated for a moment before saying, “Now touch yourself.” It had always been a wet dream of his to watch you, instruct you as you got yourself off. Since your intention was to please him... he might as well make most of it.

You blinked at him before nodding, “Yes, captain.”

Fondling your breast you pinched your nipple, pulling on it before hissing exaggeratedly, smirking when you saw his hand twitch to touch you.

“What do I do?” you looked up at him with big doe eyes.

He shook his head, circling a hand around your wrist he shoved two of your fingers inside your mouth, “Suck,” he told you. “You like having your mouth stuffed, don’t you?” he asked as you noisily suckled on his fingers.

You shamelessly nodded, hoping that you’d get more opportunities to suck his cock from now on, he pulled your fingers out, bringing them down between your legs, pushing them into your willing channel. His own thumb rubbing on your clit working you up even moreso.

You threw your head back as you felt your climax approaching. “So close... captain.”

But he pulled your hand away from your pussy, tutting at your disobedience, “I didn’t tell you you could come.” He shook your head, giving you a minute to catch your breath before pushing two of his, much larger fingers inside you, “Gotta get you ready, doll. Since you’re so small.”

“Oh! It’s too much...” you moaned, holding onto the bedding.

“How're you gonna take my dick then, doll,” you watched as he licked your slick off of his fingers, “You taste like heaven, honey.”

“Thank you, captain.”

He unbuttoned his coat, he would be much freer without it and fuck you properly like you deserved.

You rolled your eyes when he folded his coat setting down on the floor, when you were literally lying naked before him with your legs spread wide, waiting as his tie and pants followed, “Really?” you scoffed.

“Can’t have them getting dirty, doll.” He knelt on the bed, now only in his shirt, spreading your legs a bit further so he could make room for himself, nudging your intimate lips apart with his length before slowing sinking into you.

He stayed like that for a bit, inside your heat, it felt as if he would explode then and there but he had to savor the moment. To have such a pretty girl wrapped around him.

Hovering over you he placed his elbows on sides of your head so he wouldn’t put too much of his weight on you, and so he could look at your as he fucked you.

He moved his hips against yours, rocking slow and steady, “You like that, doll?”

“Yes,” you nodded as he pulled on your hair to bare your neck to him. Biting your neck to mark you as his, “Do it harder, please, captain.”

“Harder?” he spoke against your neck, pinning both your hands above your head as he started rigorously pounding into you. “That hard enough?”

You were too fucked out to give a coherent answer, or to do anything but nod pathetically and take whatever he gave you.

“Ima come...” you clenched around him as your orgasm washed over you, rendering you immobile and weightless.

He thrusted into you a couple of times before filling you up to the brim - just as he had promised.

“Thank you, doll. That was really nice,” he smiled, laying beside you and pulling you closer to him, he kissed your forehead.

“Thank you, captain. You sure know how to treat a lady right...”

“Maybe we can do this more often,” he suggested as you nodded in reply.

Tags will be in the reblog! Click the link in the bio to be join the taglist or shoot me an ask/dm.

Shout out to my friend lizzygal (you can find her on ao3) who gave me the idea of Steve folding his uniform. It was too hilarious to leave out! Thanks for reading.

Please note that my work is not to be reposted or published anywhere other than my Tumblr or AO3 account without my permission. Reblogs are most welcome though!

[writemekpop]

Love the Way You Lie (Part 2) | Kim Doyoung

Pairing: Kim Doyoung x Reader

Summary: You find yourself back in bed with Doyoung... but can you forgive him for hitting you?

Genre: Angst, Ex boyfriend!Doyoung

Warning: Mentions of domestic violence, sexual content 

Word count: 1.8k

Gif: @thoresque​ 

Part 1 | Part 2 ​⭐️

“Y/n?” 

Doyoung’s voice pierces through the fog that clouds your mind. 

You blink twice, but this is no hallucination - it really is him. Doyoung looks thinner than you remember – his cheekbones jut out and his cheeks look gaunt. 

Your hands start to tremble, and your phone clatters onto the floor. You stand there, frozen. 

Doyoung picks up your phone from the floor. As he gives it back, the cracks in the screen perfectly match the cracks in the mug Doyoung shattered when he hit you.   

“I can’t believe you’re here, Y/n! Can I… get you a drink?” Doyoung’s voice is saturated with forced sweetness. He’s smiling, but his black eyes, which once held galaxies, are dull. 

“I don’t know…” You glance towards the exit. You could be out of here in ten seconds. 

“Please, Y/n. Just one coffee.” Doyoung’s voice cracks, and real emotion flares across his face. You don’t know what it is, maybe the years of good memories, but something makes you say yes. 

You sit across from Doyoung in a booth. You stare soullessly at the foamy spiral on your latte. 

Doyoung clears his throat. “How… have you been?” 

“I’ve been fine. Great, actually,” you lie. 

The truth is, you haven’t had a good night’s sleep since that night. Tossing and turning in bed, crying. Even sleeping with other men hasn’t numbed the pain that Doyoung caused. 

Doyoung nods. His eyes are glassy, and pain is written all over his face. You almost feel sorry for him. Almost. 

“How about you?” 

Doyoung’s face screws up. “These have been the worst months of my life. I really regret what I did, Y/n. God, I am so angry with myself!” 

Doyoung slams his fist down on the table, and his mug jolts. 

The noise makes you flinch. 

Doyoung sees your wide eyes and trembling lips, and gasps. He closes his eyes and takes three deep breaths. The lines in his face smooth, and the flush on his neck slowly fades. 

“I’m sorry, Y/n. I’ve been taking anger management classes, but it’s… hard.”  

Doyoung’s gaze lands on the puddle of coffee on the table. A small smile appears on his pink lips. “I spilled coffee on our first date, do you remember? I was so nervous; I couldn’t stop my hands from shaking.” 

You can’t help but smile at the memory, too. You remember stilling his shaking hand and leaning in to kiss him. 

“Those were the days, right?” you say, voice distant. 

Doyoung’s face becomes serious. “Y/n…I can’t bear to lose you. You’re too important to me. Could we… catch a movie or something?” 

Truthfully, you miss him too. Doyoung was your best friend before he was ever your boyfriend. He threw you a graduation party after college, he listened to you cry when your parents divorced. 

“We could try being friends. A movie sounds… nice.” 

Doyoung’s eyes light up for the first time. He reaches his arms out to embrace you, but you step back.

“I think it’s a little too soon for that,” you say, eyes trained to the floor. 

You watch Doyoung’s white trainers shuffle back. “I’ll see you around, Y/n.” And with that, he leaves. 

---

Over the next week, you meet up with Doyoung three more times. 

Each time, you get more and more comfortable in his presence. His large hands almost stop being the ones that hit you… and go back to just being hands again.  

You can tell that Doyoung wants you back. You see the way his eyes linger on your lips and how his hand brushes yours when you’re walking.

But every time that happens, you ignore it. A part of you wants to take him back, but the other part never wants to see him again. He hit you. You’re not sure you can ever forgive him for that. 

---

It’s a Saturday evening, and you and Doyoung are on another one of your not-dates. 

Seoul was on high alert for a freak snowstorm, so you decided to meet at your apartment to be safe.

You’re sat at the kitchen island, watching Doyoung cook.

His face is splattered with flour, and his pretty pink tongue pokes out as he concentrates on the pasta.

“Dinner’s ready!” Doyoung chimes. “I put extra parmesan on yours, just how you like it.” 

You give him a small smile. “This is delicious, Doie. I’ve missed your cooking.”

Doyoung flashes you his signature gummy smile. “You never could resist a bit of cheesiness.”  

“Doyoung!” You place your hand on his chest to shove it playfully, but then, you feel the firm outline of his muscles, and his pounding heartbeat. 

You realise in one breathless moment, that you don’t want to let go. 

Before you have time to regret it, you pull Doyoung towards you. 

Then, you kiss him on the mouth. 

You begin to move your lips against his, slowly - just tasting, testing. The air gets sucked out the room, and all you can feel is him. 

Doyoung doesn’t kiss you any deeper. He’s so afraid that he’ll make the wrong move and scare you away - that this precarious moment might topple off the edge forever.  He digs his nails into his thigh. 

Your hands trace up Doyoung’s arms, brush across his neck and settle on his jaw. It’s like your fingers have their own homing mechanism for him. 

Loving Doyoung is just so easy. Except when it isn’t. 

You snap your eyes open and force yourself to pull away from Doyoung. His hair is dishevelled, and his cheeks are flushed pink. 

“I think you should leave now,” you say, trying to calm your restless heart. 

“Y/n… I-” Doyoung starts, but he sees the look on your face and stops himself. “Alright, I’ll go.” 

You peer out of the window, gasping when you see that the snow has tripled in the time you were having dinner. Harsh wind whips the snow around like white bullets. 

“Doyoung, how are you supposed to walk home in weather like this?” 

Doyoung grits his teeth and pulls his coat collar up over his cheeks. “I’ll be fine.” 

Doyoung opens the front door a crack, but the wind shoves inside, making the door slam open. 

You both exclaim, and Doyoung hauls the door shut. “Hmm… maybe walking in that weather isn’t such a good idea.” 

Doyoung stands there, staring. There’s a question on his lips, but you know he’s not going to ask. 

“Fine.” You say. “You can stay.” 

Doyoung visibly relaxes. “Thank you, Y/n.” 

You nerves are suddenly on edge. “You’ll have to stay in the spare room.”

Doyoung nods. 

---

You lie in your bed, tossing and turning. You can’t believe that Doyoung is in the next room. 

You reach your hand out and touch the mattress where he used to sleep. 

“You know what I love about your body?” Doyoung asked, trailing his long fingers down your naked waist.  

“What?” you said, shivering at his touch. 

Doyoung kissed your neck, then your collarbone, then your chest. 

“It’s just so responsive… I could do this all day.” 

You shudder at the memory. No. It doesn’t look like sleep will be greeting you tonight. 

You slip out of the bed and tip toe into the kitchen. Keeping the light off, you pour yourself a glass of milk and perch on the kitchen counter.

“Couldn’t sleep either?”

You jolt at the sound of his voice. 

Doyoung is standing at the kitchen door. His black hair is sticking up in all different directions, and his eyes are puffy with sleep. 

“Do you… want some milk?” you ask, tentatively. 

“Please,” Doyoung says, shuffling towards you. 

You stand in a comfortable silence as you sip your drinks. This secret shared moment, with only the watery blue light from the fridge to illuminate you, is almost… intimate. 

When you both finish your drinks, Doyoung speaks up. “I guess we better get back to sleep.” 

Doyoung walks ahead of you to the corridor. “Good night, Y/n,” he says, opening the door to the spare room. 

But before he can step in, you place your hand on his shoulder. “Wait!” 

Doyoung stands frozen, eyes wide. 

“Do you…” you clear your throat. “Do you want to sleep in my room?” You know you shouldn’t, but you just can’t help yourself. 

Not trusting his voice, Doyoung nods once. 

You lead him into your bedroom, and slip under the covers. You lie there, side by side, staring up at a crack in the ceiling. 

You can feel the warmth from his body next to yours. He’s so close… if you just pushed your arm out it would touch Doyoung. 

You reach out your fingers, and gasp when they meet Doyoung’s. 

Carefully, you entwine your fingers with his. His skin is so warm, so smooth… before you know it, you shift onto your side to face him. 

Your hand moves up to his face, and you cup his cheek. You pull him towards you, and suddenly, you’re kissing again. 

Keeping your mouth attached to Doyoung’s, you roll onto your back. Doyoung follows smoothly and shifts on top of you, his hips resting against yours. He kisses you back eagerly now. 

The two of you move instinctively, one piece of clothing falling off one after another till you’re both naked - skin to skin. 

With your lips pressed against his, you spread your legs and wrap them around his waist. He fits inside you so well, like he was made for you. 

Doyoung makes love to you so gently that you could cry. His lips never leave yours – it’s almost magical…  

With a soft groan, he flops onto the bed beside you. 

The two of you lie still until your breaths quiet. 

Doyoung is the first to break the silence. “I still love you,” he whispers.

When you don’t reply, he goes on. “It’s okay, I don’t expect you to say it back. I just… wanted you to know.” 

---

You wake up to the feeling of Doyoung’s arm around your waist. 

You try to get comfortable, but his grip just feels suffocating. You remember that he’s a man - with a temper - and suddenly you’re scared. 

You shove his arm off and sit bolt upright in the bed, panting. 

Doyoung rolls onto his back. He rubs his eyes and groans softly. You watch him as he slowly cracks one eye open, and then the next. 

When he sees your expression, he sits up, face set in serious lines. 

“I can’t do this…,” you whisper. “Us, I mean.” 

Doyoung frowns. “Y/n, I-” 

Tears flood your eyes. “You… hit me, Doyoung.”

Doyoung hangs his head down in his lap. At least he has the decency not to meet your eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Y/n. That’s all I can say.” His voice cracks. “Thank you for… trying to give me a second chance.”

You walk Doyoung to the front door. He pulls it open, and only a light sheet of snow dusts the pavement.

Doyoung steps outside. “I will always love you, Y/n.” 

Doyoung turns back to look at you, but you’ve already shut the door.  

---

MASTERLIST

[simpingfortheages]

//YOU WANT SOMEWHERE TO SIT?//

Ms Venable x Fem Reader

(SMUT PACKED! CANING, DEGRADING,THIGH RIDING, EDGING, MANIPULATION, PRAISE)

Gallant and the reader seem too close to each other for Me Venable's liking. Something ignites in Ms Venable and she doesn't like it . Not. One. Bit.

~~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~

Outpost 3 was a prison. It was the same damn routine everyday- wake up, get dressed,go to lunch and then join everyone in the common room. It's sickening but bareable. It's bareable only because of Gallant. Over the past 2 years we have become quite close to each other, if someone didn't know that Gallant was gay and I was a full blown lesbian . One would swear we were a couple.

Everyone was all currently gathering in the common room, either ready to read a book or simply gossip about the secret affair that has been taking place being the back of Ms Venable between the two greys. What did you expect? There's not much to do in this hellhole anyway . As I made my way towards the common room, I spotted Gallant, who was currently sitting on the couch talking to Coco about the next style he would like to try on her hair. I sauntered my way over and took a sat right in his lap, his hands automatically wrapping around my waist,not bothering to stop his conversation with Coco as my arm nestled upon the back of his shoulders. I unknowingly brought my hand up and played with Gallant's hair while I daydreamed about the leader of Outpost 3. Ms Venable. The intimidating, prestine,squared shoulders leader. She really is a sight for sore eyes, the way she carries herself is quite attractive. From her perfectly painted dark lips to the shape of her sharp eyebrows. The click of her cane the against the concrete floor doesn't fail to have a cold tingle run up my spine. Yes she scares me,I gay panic around her all the time that's why you would never catch me breaking her rules. Lost in my dazed state I failed to hear the click of her cane as she entered the dimly lit common room. "Ms Y/L/N, do you not know where the seats are located?" She seethed between her teeth. Out of shock I snapped out of my daydream and quirked an eyebrow in her direction, " I'm sorry What?" I asked. " I am sorry what Ms Venable" she corrected me with annoyance dripping in her voice. "Why are you sitting on Mr Gallant' s lap? Can't a daft moron such as yourself see that there are multiple areas elsewhere?" Ms Venable snapped. Her response stirred something inside if me. I didn't realise but I scoffed outloud at her question. " Ms Venable I don't see why it's such a problem I'm not breaking your rules. I am in the outpost, I referred to you as Ms Venable and Gallant's dick isn't inside me for us to make a baby." I snarled,not before mumbling silently ," not that I would want that anyway..."

Me Venable's hand tighten the grip she had atop her cane. I am pretty sure they were digging into her the skin of her palm ,leaving indents. Her chest rose with anger and the slight flare of her nostrils didn't go missed as well. Without hesitation she said 2 words, " bring her". I went without a fight as the Iron fist dragged me from Gallant's lap. Everyone was arguing and yelling, but no one dared to pull me from the Iron Fist's hands. That was a no no. It would result to them getting the same punishment as me. I couldn't help but whince at the thought of getting whipped I've seen the aftermath from Gallant's back. It was gruesome ,they took aleast 2 months to fully heal, but of course he still had the scars. I wasn't going to cry and give her the satisfaction of knowing how much she scared me. She was a sadist. An evil yet hot sadist,either way what she was doing is wrong. While being dragged, Ms Venable stopped and whispered some thing in the Iron Fist's ears to which the fist only grunted in reply. There was confusion painted on my face as we began to pass the Outpost's turn to head into the basement. Where was she taking me? Am I getting thrown out, all for sitting on Gallant's lap?? Fuck! Fuck! I closed my eyes tight in hopes that I passed out before they could do my anything . The only thing I felt was me and my dress being dragged across the dingy floor of the outpost. After a few minutes of being pulled by the Iron fist. I heard the opening of a wooden door,before I could register what was going on. I was roughly thrown against the ground. The adrenaline that was coarsing through my veins , numbed my fall. The door was slammed closed and locked???, she locked the door? Why'd she do that ?...momentarily I was lulled into a false sense of safety and lonliness, that was until I heard the click of her cane again. I struggled to get onto my feet since the wind was also knocked out of me. Ms Venable was making her way to sit behind her large oak wooden desk. I paid attention to my surroundings as i stood up...the realisation dawned on me . I was in her chamber, which was the furthest room for the common room. She could shoot me and the thick stones and great distance will also cover the sound. I was so fucked. There I was standing, infront Ms Venable,trying to dust off the dirt that accummulated on my dress.

The sound of my dress crinkling bounced off the concrete walls. Too intimidated to even look at her, when I was done. I just twiddle with my thumbs. Ms Venable peirced the silence in the air, " Come here." She snapped coldly. I swallowed thickly and moved turtle pace towards here. "Hurry up Ms Y/L/N" her voice now filled with impatience. I hastened my steps and stood on the opposite side of her desk. As I looked at her face, there was a scowl that made its way to her plump lips. "Not there. I meant here" she stated. Her sentence was accompanied with the movements of her gloved hands. She was gestering to the floor. I maneuvered my way around her desk and stood before her as she swivels her chair to face me. The distance was miniscule. My ruffled dress was now brushing against the material her clean dress. Ms Venable's growl was low and guteral. "On your knees." She commanded. I was shocked at her words "Excuse me?" I commented. "You heard me" she replied quickly. A nervous chuckle escaped my lips. Out of fear, I submitted I looked away from her gaze and proceeded to get on my knees. As I did so, Ms Venable parted her legs. I couldn't help but blush at the act, this however didn't go unnoticed by her. All for sudden Ms Venable grabbed hold of my wrist, digging her sharp manicured nails into my skin. She managed to rip small whimpered from me. "I know the truth Ms y/l/n . I see the way you react when I enter a room. How hot and bothered you are right now kneeling for me like the filthy slut you are." She stated in raspy voice . Not listening to her words I was consumed with embarrassment. She knows, she knows, she fucking knows! I tried to yank my wrist away from her grasp but her hold was stronger. She sunk her nails further into my skin. "Ahh please Ms Venable." I begged in a pathetic manner. "Hmmm this is new? Where has the big bad attitude gone." Ms Venable said with a smirk tattooed on her face. I stayed silent. "Strip." Was all she said. My eyes opened wide with at her words. Out of reflex I stumbled back murmuring the words no repeatedly. What the hell is happening? I needed to get out. She is insane. What was I thinking? Having a liking to this woman. I made quick notions to shift away from her, only for my actions to be stopped . She was stepping down on the back of my dress with her black boots. "And where do you think you are going?" She questioned in a condescending manner. I opened my mouth to speak but nothing came out. My throat was parched. " your punishment didn't even start." My eyebrows knitted together in fear of what she has planned. I grabbed the back of my dress and yanked on it, freeing it from the soles of her boots. I bolted making my way to the door to escape I don't know where but I wanted to be anywhere. Just anywhere but here. The atmosphere was stifling and heavy, which made the air hard to breathe. " Oh my Ms y/l/n I won't just do that... we wouldn't want to have Mr Gallant's scars renewed. I am sure you remember how long to took for him to recover." My movements were halted,my back was facing her . I slowly released out a very audible shakey breathe. I turned around to look at Ms Venable,only to see her motioning me to come to her with her finger in a beckoning gesture. Unwillingly I made my way back to her,tears pickled in the corner of my eyes. " now strip" she recited once again. I faced the floor as I slowly began to unbutton the top buttons of my dress. "No i want you to look at me while you do it" she demanded. I summoned all the courage I had to meet her piercing brown eyes. She was taking my dignity and she knew it. She enjoyed seeing me crumble .When i was done, I stood in nothing but my underwear. I quickly covered my breast with hands,which Ms Venable didn't like. She yanked my hands away and shamelessly roamed her eyes all over my body.

"Hmmm" was all she said while biting her bottom lip. This felt like forever, like all of time stopped,dragging out this moment. " bend over my desk" Ms Venable said. I didn't even bother to rebel against her anymore. Just get it over with Y/N and I can lock this memory away. I slowly bent myself at the waist and pressed my breast against the cold desk. My hands rested beside my head against the bare desk . I squeezed my eyes closed once more trying to control my breathing. " you will get ten and for each one you will said please again Ms Venable." She said. Ten What??? I thought. Without thinking I nodded my head against the desk in confirmation to whatever she meant, she didn't like my lack of words so she grabbed the sides of my hips ,digging her nails once more into my skin. " Yes yes okay Ms Venable please I will" I cried out. She laughed lowly at my reaction. From the corner of my eyes I saw her grab her cane. "Wha- Ms Venable please that will hurt me, please not that"i pleaded. My cries fell on deaf ears. She didn't care. She flashed a smiled lipped smile at me.

*WHACK* the pain I felt on my rear was immense,my knees almost gave out at the sharp and lasting pain . Yet i managed to spit out the words " again-...ple-se Ms Venable". After 15 minutes of prolonged torture the tenth lash was bestowed upon me. My voice raspy and almost gone from pleading ..." thank you *sniffle*Ms *sniffle* Venable". Suddenly I felt a pair of hands groping my ass, massaging it in a pleasant way. I couldn't help but enjoy the feeling of both the pleasure and pain. My legs twitched at the feeling. " I know you liked it Y/N" she whispered. My breathe hitched at the fact that she used my first name. Ms Venable stood even closer behind me and pressed her entire clothed front fully on my ass. Ms Venable was grinding against me. A mewl escaped my lips at the feeling. " didn't you like it y/n?" She asked. To embarrassed by the truth, I shook my head no. Ms Venable yanked me by my hair causing my back to arch and my neck to tilt backwards. She then leaned over and pressed herself against my back. I could have felt how erect her nipples were through the fabric. She was getting off on this. "Don't you dare lie to me now my little one" she whispered into my ear,as she did so Ms Venable licked a strip up the cartilage of my ear. I shivered at the action. " The slick dripping from between your legs says otherwise."I could hear the smile in her tone. She roughly pushed my head forward causing my head to jerk forward . She returned to her chair and waited until I turned around to face her. "Come here little one" she said again. I began to kneel once more,only for her to say "No I meant here this time" . This time she was referring to her lap. The colour of pink covered my ears and my chest. I was flushed. With maintained intense eye contact Ms Venable rolled up her dress revealing her smooth shaved and toned legs. I could have seen her purple lace underwater peaking right at me, where she stopped her dress. "You want somewhere to sit ? You want to sit on someone's lap little one? Sit on mine." She scowled. With shaking legs I gently straddled her thighs. I hovered over her thighs with my knees holding me up in either side on her lap. Ms Venable found her hands on my hips and pulled my down onto her left thigh. I jumped at the contact. My clit was swollen and throbbing. I was heavily aroused. Out of reflex I tried to move, but Ms Venable didn't allow it. "No no little one" she cooed at me " you're gonna take it." She finished her sentence with a smile. I whimpered and nodded in reply.

The outpost leader began moving my hips against her thighs encouraging me to move. Out of desperation I started to grind against her thighs faster,ready to relieve the ache that she created. "Slow down my little one..." she tightened her hold on my hips making me slow my movements. " Hmmm that's it, ride me baby" my breathing got heavier as did hers. The smell of Ms.Venable' s perfume and my arousal that was currently coating her leg was the only scent that invaded my senses. It was intoxicating. A foreign feeling began to build in my lower stomach,my eyes were struggling to keep open as they were going to roll to the back of my head any moment. My hands held on to her shoulders to stable myself. "Mmm Ms Ven-ohh Ms Venable can hmm I cum?" I struggled to get out . "No" was all she said. " hold on a little longer. I enjoy seeing you like this" . My face twisted in pain and pleasure. The knots in my stomach was tightening, ready to burst at any second. Oh but Ms Venable knew that. She fed off of that. After 3 minutes I begged again,"please please oh fuck Ms Venable please can I??? can I cum for you?". "No you don't have my permission,but you are oh so close aren't you?" She mocked me. I sob in sexual frustration at her mockery. Ms Venable leaned her face closer to my ears and began nibbling at the tip. While her other hand was removed from my hip and found it's place on my erected nipple. She twisted and pulled until I watched against her." Break my rule you little slut. Break this one rule. Cum without My permission"she teased. I shook my head side to side . I was going to be good and show her. Ms Venable admired me for such an act. But she wanted to see me crumble. She removed her hand from my nipple and slowly made her hand reach my clit. Her talent slender finger, slid in between my folds with ease,applying pressure and rubbing me. I couldn't hold it back anymore. I came without her permission. She wanted that. She wanted me to break her rule. I soaked her thigh with my fluids. As i looked down I saw her remove her hand from my clit. I whimpered at the loss of contact. Her hand and my clit were still connected by a string of my arousal. Ms Venable locked eyes with me as she took her 2 fingers and sucked off my cum. I moaned at the sight. She then removed her fingers with a loud pop. After she did so, she took her same wet fingers that were now covered with some of my cum and some of her spit and held them up to my mouth. I parted my lips and I accepted her slender fingers. All the while keeping eye contact.

This was a distraction that she did. While I took her fingers into my mouth. Ms Venable lifted her thigh,pressing my clit directly to her thighs that were covered with my slick. I squealed at the sudden pressure on my already sensitive overestimulated clit. I tried to move away but she tore her fingers away from my mouth and returned her grip on my hips,"that's it baby take it,take your punishment like my good filthy slut" she praised. I nodded in response and proceed to grind against her thighs . It's didn't take me long to get worked up again. She could have seen that i was holding back. Feeling sorry for me this time," Cum all over me baby. I am here" she cooed softly. My back arched against her chest, my sensitive nipples rubbing against the front of her fabric. As i threw my head back, Ms Venables's lips found my neck. She sucked and bit my pulse point. I released and whimpered as i came the second time . She kept marking me as I came down from my high. I then rested my head in the crook of her neck as i tried to regulate my breathing. I almost dozed off if it wasn't for Ms Venable grabbing my face by my jaw. I looked at her with hooded eyes, her face milimeteres away. My lips were slightly parted as the warmth of each of our breathe were felt on our faces. Ms Venable then stuck her long tongue out and slowly licked my lips. I shuddered at the action. As I go to close the gap, the slim finger that was once coated with my arousal was press against my lips.. With confusion etched on my face, Ms Venable opened her lips and spoke," now will you sit on anyone else's lap?" She asked. "No Ms Venable "I replied . She smiled," who you belong too now?" She questioned. "I belong to You Ms Venable" I said with a voice thick with lust and tiredness. " that's my good girl." She praised me once more. Ms Venable then slowly removed her finger and leaned into kiss me. As we both did so, I couldn't help but repeat her words "....your good girl."