#my heart STOPPED had to sink down into my seat and ask god for forgiveness after that

[bong-bing-bongus]

Sent myself a nsfw reference picture on telegram so I could open it on my computer and look at it while drawing. Was paranoid I'd send it to the wrong chat and expose myself so I double checked again and again to confirm I sent it to myself. AND THEN. Within TWO SECONDS of me sending the naughty picture I GOT A MESSAGE FROM SOMEONE do you KNOW how TERRIFYING that was I NEARLY PEED MYSELF

[plush-rabbit]

The Perverse Angel and His Wicked Thoughts

Direct Continuation to Divinity in Impurity

Word Count: 2.8K

A/N: Please forgive me for the awful title. I just had no idea how/what else to title it

-

Simeon never knew what true anxiety felt like until he’s back standing in front of your door. His knees feel weak, his heart beating against his chest, echoing and shattering his ribs into sharp pieces that cut into his skin and make him choke on his own blood. His breath is shallow and when he knocks against the wood, you’re quirk to open the door with a smile on your face. You let him enter your room with a wave and a smile, quickly going in for a hug when he’s inside, letting the door click close behind the both of you.

Stepping inside of your room, he’s acutely aware of everything that goes on inside, the way that your scent is heavy in the air, consuming every object, how you walk so freely without a care, trusting him with your safety, knowing that he would never do anything so harmful and perverted to you. Blood is bitter on his tongue, his teeth piercing against the insides of his cheeks when he accidently bites a bit too hard. He hisses, a hand wavering to cup his cheek but he falters, repulsed by his bare hand. And yet, you’re quick to come to his aid, worry in your eyes and your lips parted asking if he’s okay. Your touch is warm, different from his own and he jumps at your contact, stepping around you to walk and sit on your bed. He can’t bear to feel your touch, not when he just did something so awful- so grotesque and perverted.

The bed dips under his weight, his teeth worrying at his bottom lip and his eyes are glued on your figure, sweat beading at his forehead as you walk towards. He sits on your bed, his hands shaky and when you question his nervousness, he waves it off. It’s nothing- really, don’t pressure him. Guilt has started to eat him, sinking its teeth into his skin and while he can’t look at you, you make no comment about it, sitting beside him, your legs seated under you.

You hand cups over his and he lets his head fall, his muscles tense as you call his name. His hand goes rigid, and while you hold the top of his hand, your fingers slip between the spaces of his and you hold tightly to his hand while he just sits there.

“Simeon,” you whisper, giving his hand a squeeze, “can you look at me?”

Something catches in his throat, his lungs devoid of air, deflating into nothing as he shakes his head. His lips are pulled thin, any breath that he tries to take is through his nose, a deep inhale that is shakily released through his parted lips. How could he ever look at you when he did what he did? How could he even allow you to hold his hand? It’s his own deviance that clutches around his chest and drags him further into the dark pool that is his sin.

“Is this about what you saw?” Your voice is gentle, concern and puzzlement laced into your words as your knee bumps against his. “Sim, I told you that it was okay.” He can hear the smile, reassuring that what he saw wasn’t anything bad but you don’t know what he did. His legs begin to bounce, shaking the bed and his lips grow dry. “You don’t have to feel guilty over it. I should have told you that I was changing or even locked the door.” A playful chuckle fills the room and when he remains unresponsive, your hand slowly uncurls and slips away.

His hand is left cold and empty, a foreign feeling that he does not welcome. Quickly, his other hand clasps over yours, trapping it against his wrist. He takes shaky breaths, his chest wavering with every inhale and exhale. With your hand under his, he shakes, and releases his hand from you, apologizing under his breath. Immediately, he misses the feel of your hand.

You take in a sharp inhale, your shoulders slumping and his heart drops. You’ve allowed him to enter your room, you held his hand and yet, he’s here, with his innocence tainted and forever blemished by his actions. “Simeon-”

“I- I’m so sorry.” He covers his face with his hands, and he recoils away from his touch. His teeth are gritted and he turns to you, his brows wrinkling his face and he wonders how pathetic he looks to you. “I- I’m so sorry,” he repeats, his voice breaking and his stomach twists into tight knots.

Instead of disgust, you smile sadly at him, your hands coming out to hold the hand that he had used to masturbate to you. He wonders if you’d turn away from him, if you’d wipe your hand from his touch, if you knew what he had done.

The look that you give him is enough to make a storm of butterflies form in his stomach. “I already told you-”

Acid bubbles in his throat, burning and making it harder to breathe with every passing second. He doesn’t want to lose the friendship that he has with you, but he can’t live with himself if he doesn’t tell you. A prayer starts to form, a simple thought that is burst with judgement on him. Your words are distant and he isn’t sure what you’re saying, he can’t hear you but he can see and feel you. He can see your smile, how your eyes dart to the door and the soft feel of your hand. He feels as if he’s being choked, a tight grip around throat has tears brimming in his eyes. He wonders how much of himself is clouded from the eyes of God. He feels too much, his worry and guilt bubbling over that leaves him feeling exposed. “I masturbated to you.” There’s a pause in the room, your eyes blinking owlishly as you try to comprehend the words. “I- I’m sorry,” he mutters, looking at the floor, leaning away from you but he still lets his hand be held in yours. Shock settles as the words have filled the room, slowly filling your mind. “I-” He deflates and stops talking.

Neither of you speak for some time, words clutched at your heart and his stuck on his throat. He wishes he could take back the words, but he can’t deny the sweet relief that he felt when he confessed. Your hand slowly pulls away and he wants to cry and collapse onto his knees, begging for forgiveness.

“You-” you start, pursing your lips together- “You masturbated to me?” He nods, believing that he is unworthy to even speak to you after what he did. “Before you came- Er, When you arrived the first time to my room?”

He supposes he deserves the questioning and the sick feeling that settles in his stomach. “When- When I saw you I had fled and when I arrived at my room, I- I had-” He fits back a sob. He’s never felt so dirty.

“Simmy,” your voice is calm, and your hands return to him. Hsi eyes are wide and without knowing what’s going on, you pull him close to your chest, letting his forehead rest on your shoulder. Your hands curl over the back of his head, cradling him gently. “It’s okay, sweetheart; don’t cry.” Your kindness only makes him sob, his body shaking and his hands, as dirty as they are, clutch to the back of your shirt. “You- It’s fine. You don’t have to feel bad or anything. I mean-” you shift under him and he fears that it’s discomfort and rejection, so he clutches tighter at you and pushes himself further into you. “Sh,” you whisper, threading your fingers through his hair, “I’m not going anywhere. Just relax, okay?”

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers, turning his head, his breath hot against your neck. “I- I was weak. Please forgive me.” You smell sweet, the overlapping of your cream invades his senses but underneath, he can smell you, your scent that calls out to him and it only makes him want to cling tighter to you. He doesn’t want to separate himself from your embrace even if it's something out of pity. “Please, don’t leave me.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Simmy,” you say softly, rocking him gently in your arms. “You’re okay. I’m not mad or anything, I’m-” you let out a laugh, it’s short and humorless- “I’m actually a bit er- honoured? No, flattered.” His eyes widen and he pulls away from you, tears streak against his cheeks and he looks at you with wide eyes. Your body shifts under his gaze and you force yourself to look at him. “I think it’s kind of sweet actually. Well, not sweet, but hot?” You give him a smile, and while it doesn’t reach your eyes, he knows that it isn’t something bitter. “I kind of assumed you hadn’t felt anything to me and well, while masturbating isn’t a confirmation of feelings, I’m flattered that you find me attractive enough to jerk off at the thought of me.” You swallow nervously and you look away from him. “I’m talking too much, aren’t I?”

“No!” He says, holding your hands in his. “I- How could I not find you attractive? I- You’re the only human- the only being who ever made me feel so- so-” his hand clutches over where his heart would rest, twisting the fabric in his hands- “so alive,” he breathes out. “When I’m with you, I feel as if I never want to be apart from you. I would be a fool to not find you attractive, to not see your beauty and want you as you are. Here I am, the angel that is meant to remain pure and yet I was tempted by someone-” his knuckles brush against your cheek, curving at your bone and gliding down until they reach the corners of your lips- “and I’d do it all over again if it meant that you would even have an ounce of happiness.” He lets his hand fall, smiling at you, with fondness. “I am nothing more than your angel.” He bows his head slightly, bringing your hand to his lips, letting your knuckles grace him with your touch.

“A knight in shining armor,” you muse, your hand falling under his chin and pushing gently to have him look at you. He meets your eyes with readiness to accept whatever it is you want, ready to follow your commands. While he has no contract that binds him to you, he’d do whatever you would want of him. You accepted him and his secret, the least he could do is bow before you.

Your smile twitches for a moment, faltering for a second and he frowns. His eyes never leave your face, watching your expression change, slowly morphing into a curious look that has him leaning his body close to yours. He watches as your tongue peeks to wet your lips, the soft, pink muscle teasing him and with his thoughts safe in your room and with you, he wonders how your tongue would feel in his mouth, how it would feel if it were against his body and curled around his burning skin.

“Simeon?” He gives a curt nod in your direction, listening and clinging to your every word. “Can you show me?” His blood runs cold at the immediate understandment of your words. His heart races, pumping his angelic blood through his body and with a heavy heart, he can feel the familiar and yet alien feeling of his member throb under the confines of his pants. “I wanna see how you touched yourself.”

Limbs bump into each other, your hands leaving a trail of goosebumps as you move against him. He isn’t sure how he's gotten to lay against your pillows with his pants past his thighs and his cock already half erect. His breath hangs heavy in the room, his chest taking deep slow breaths as he watches his own hand circle around his cock. He can feel your eyes on him, how you watch his every move with an unblinking gaze, entranced by the angel who remains partially dressed. His mouth is dry and he lets his hand take a shaky stroke against himself, letting out a whine at the feeling. It isn’t pleasurable but it isn’t horrible either. It’s just a touch. He wants to make it a show, but he’s so new to this, so inexperienced and while your human curiosity is taking over, leaning onto him, he can’t do much more than stare at his cock that beads with pearls.

“I- I need help,” he mutters. “It feels so new, so alien to touch myself. I’m-”

You cut his words off with a kiss, your body moving to rest above his, your weight pressing down on him. His cock hardens, pulsing in his hand and with a jerky motion, he proceeds to touch himself. Your tongue enters his mouth and he greedily sucks on it, pushing himself upwards to deepen the kiss, working his hand in a similar motion. The tight feeling in his stomach returns, quicker and tighter than before. Your hand glides to his chest, slipping under his shirt and thumbing around his nipple, humming into his mouth when he hardens under your touch. You pull away with spit covered lips, your eyes glazed over with honeyed lust, smiling down at him and kissing at neck, suckling softly, letting your teeth pinch at his skin.

The feels are all so new to him, and he’s moaning under you, whining and jerking his hips upwards. “Come on Simeon,” you whisper against his skin, “go a little bit faster, Let me see how you treated yourself when you jerked off to me.” You sit above him, cupping his face in your hands, your thumbs under his bottom lip. “Am I the first person you’ve ever jerked off to?” he lets out a pained whimper, nodding his head to the best of his ability without shaking you off. “Use your words,” you advise, leaning forward and pressing your lips against his temple. “I want to hear all the perverted details.”

“Yes,” he croaks out, his leg bumping upwards as his high slowly approaches. “I-” his lips press into a thin line as he tries to muffle his moans- “I hadn’t touched myself before. I thought of you and your body, I thought about how you’d feel- how different your hands would feel compared to mine.”

“If you’re a good boy and finish, I’ll be sure to pleasure you.” Your smile is coquettish, your tone sultry as you grab his arm, and let the hand that had been clutching the covers curve over your chest. “When I called you, were you busy touching yourself?”

“Yes,” he breathes out, “I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to stop. I wanted to hear your voice. I wanted to hear you call my name. Even now, I’m surprised that you’re doing so much for me, touching me and not- and not-” his voice tightens, tears brimming against his eyes- “not finding me repulsive. I- I- You were my first, The first that I had ever felt such feeling for. Please, I beg of you, kiss me again. I want to kiss you and make sure that this is all real and not some sick, perverse dream that I had come up with. That if I fall, if I lose my wings, at least I’ll have kissed you before that.” Tears fall, and he can feel the pressure building, so close to spilling over and the tight rope in his stomach threatening to snap.

“Oh Simeon,” you coo, your smile bittersweet. Your head shakes softly, your hands smoothing back his hair and cupping his face. “I’ll stand beside you no matter what, sweetheart. I could never turn away from you.” Your lips press against his and with your confession, he releases, moaning and moving his free hand to hold your back as he shakes under you.

His seed paints his hand and thighs in white ropes. Tears stain the kiss,and when you pull away, he whines, missing the contact. You move off of him and he wants to cry, moving to nuzzle into your chest. His hand sticks to the back of your shirt, sullying you in his seed as he cock lays between him and you, nestled against your sex. He shakes, the afterglow making him so sensitive to touch that even your hand playing with the ends of his hair has him and letting out shaky breaths. His chest feels light, full of air and your scent, his ears hearing your heart beat erratically- whatever facade you had about staying calm and playful as he pleasured himself was only that, a facade. You kiss the top of his head and promise that when he’s calmed down, you’ll fulfill your promise of touching him. He nods his head, trying to steady himself, desperate to feel your hands against his virgin cock.

[cazimagines]

A Freudian Slip - The Sequel

Synopsis: Zemo was always getting on your nerves. Yes, he was hot and god you were attracted to him but he was also your enemy. After what happened last night you were trying your best to pretend it never happened however Zemo isn’t willing to let you do that.

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings/Tags: FOR A MATURE AUDIENCE, Smut, Oral sex, Fingering, Slight fluff, mentions of guns

Author's note: You guys really liked ‘the Freudian Slip’ and I’ve had a few requests to write a sequel, so here I am. This is my first time attempting to write smut for all y'all who are horny for Zemo so um hopefully it’s good. IF YOU KNOW ME NO YOU DON’T

My Master list

“Madripoor knows how to give New York a run for its money,” Sam says as they walk past all these containers.

“They know how to party,” Zemo replies, walking up beside you. His arm grazes against yours, making you tense. Picking up your pace, you reach Bucky and leaving Zemo behind.

Last night you might have made the worst mistake of your life. You had made out with Zemo.

Zemo!

The man that was a terrorist. The man who had caused the Avengers to split up. You hated him! You had to hate him. Right?

Yet when you glance over to him, you can’t help feel warm inside. Goosebumps crawl up your skin as you hear him speak. That accent of his drove you wild. You want to kiss that smirk off his face when he looks at you. His brown eyes bearing into yours. He made you feel alive. He made you feel all hot and bothered. He made you feel confused.

Earlier at Sharon’s party, you were watching him. Usually, you like a party, but this time you held back. Zemo looked around for you, but he eventually gave up and danced on his own. You smiled as you watched him have fun. For those moments he seemed so innocent. You wanted to join him dancing, but Sam and Bucky were already suspicious of you and Zemo. Why it had taken you two so long to reach them after you split up. You had to distance yourself from him. No matter how hard you found it.

You swallow, pushing away the thoughts of you and him as you tried to focus back on the mission at hand.

You arrived at the crater, and Sharon handed you all earpieces to wear. Placing it in your ear and head into the crater. It was pitch black in there, making you stop to try to see anything.

Zemo was following up behind you, and as you stopped walking, he walked into you. You stiffened, feeling his body press up against yours. His arm reaches around, squeezing yours as he moves beside you. Though you couldn’t see him, you just knew he was smirking at you.

Zemo pulled out a flashlight. He shone it in your eyes to annoy you before shining it forward to see the end of the crater. He walked forward, touching the wall, then pushed it. The wall moved, revealing it as a door as music flooded the room. He glances back at you, Sam and Bucky as you all pull out your guns. Sam and Bucky head in and you follow them as Zemo keeps the door open for you. His hand rested on the dip of your back as you walked past, but you shook it off. He turned to stare at you, but you continued to walk ahead, not giving him a second glance.

The song ‘Comin home baby’ plays out of a record as you enter. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you glance around where you were. Rounding the corner, you finally see the man you had been looking for. He was quietly singing along, unaware of the people approaching him from behind. Sam and Bucky questioned him while you and Zemo held back.

You were just there for backup you didn’t want to get involved. Your eyes sneak back to admiring Zemo though, and you wonder just how involved you were. Zemo’s eyes snap to yours as he notices you staring, and he tilts his head at you, his thin lips sneaking up in a curl.

You look away, staring ahead, willing your cheeks to stop blushing.

As Sam and Bucky continued to interrogate the doctor, Zemo walked around the area. You kept trying to see what he was doing while at the same trying to make sure Zemo didn’t notice you.

Sharon runs into the room at that moment, “Guys, we’ve got to go”

Zemo quickly raises his hand, showing a gun he had found, and shoots the doctor dead.

“NO!” both you and Sam shouted, looking at Zemo in shock. Sam crashes into Zemo, holding him against the wall to stop him from shooting anyone else. You rush over and prize the gun out of Zemo’s hand, chucking it to the floor.

Before you got another moment to think, the whole crater exploded. You were flung back down, hitting your head against the floor. Searing pain crossed the back of your head and you let out a yelp of pain.

Groaning, you raised your hand to your head. Pulling it back, you see your hand covered in blood.

“Shit” you mutter trying to wipe your hand on your clothes.

You felt arms wrap around you, pulling you off the floor. You blink, trying to get the dust out of your eyes as the arms guide you out of the rubble. Finally, in the sunlight, you realize Zemo has his hands on your side pulling you along. Just as you two left the remains of the building, it explodes behind you.

“Are you okay?” Zemo questions as he turns you around to look at him. His eyes glanced up and down you in worry as he takes in the extent of your injuries.

“Yeah, I’m fine, Zemo, were they still in there!?” you ask anxiously as you look back to the burning building.

“They’ll be fine, come we need to go,” Zemo insisted, grabbing a hold of your hand again pulling you along. Your head still seized with pain making you trip slightly, but you kept it together.

“Where the hell are we going?” you ask but Zemo doesn’t answer he just keeps running and pulls you up onto a crater.

“Zemo!” you exclaim in annoyance, then your eyes widen as he pulls something out of his pocket.

“What the fuck is that”

“My mask, ”

“Your what now? Since when have you had a mask!” you question, looking at him confused.

“I’ve always had one. Now you need to duck” he ordered, looking over the edge of the crater.

“Why should I do that”

He rolls his eyes and wrenches you down, “Can’t you listen to me for once y/n'' he exclaims. He then grabs your gun and heads to the front of the crate wearing his mask. He shoots a pipe, and it explodes, sending a shock wave through you. You collapse to the ground feeling faint from the blood loss and Zemo rushes back to you.

He puts his hand on the back of your head to help you up, and his eyes widen when he pulls his hand away to see blood covering it.

“Why didn’t you say something” he angrily muttered.

“I’m fine” you groaned, but the black spots you could see in your vision said otherwise.

Zemo wrapped one arm under your legs and the other under your back and picked you up. He held you close to his chest as he ran forward holding you in his arms,

After a few minutes, he helps you stand up, letting you lean on him. You hated how dependent you were on Zemo at this moment, but a darker side of you enjoyed being this close to him. Leaning against a crate, you watch as Zemo finally pulls off his mask and opens one crate. Your eyes widen in shock as you watch him ride out in a car.

He gets out and opens the passenger seat door for you. Putting one arm around your waist and making you wrap your arm around his shoulder. He guides you to the car and helps you in. Both of you don’t speak. He knew you were too embarrassed to, and at this moment he didn’t want to push you.

Driving along you two picked up Sam and Bucky, who were thankful for seeing you alive. The car drive lasted a few hours, but eventually, you arrived at a new city where Zemo had a place you could stay.

Zemo got out of the car to help you out, but by this time you're determined to not rely on him. You pushed the door open, swung your legs out, tried to stand up, and almost fell over, but Bucky grabbed you.

“She needs medical help,” Zemo demanded as he opens the door to the house to let you in. Bucky excuses himself for a walk as Sam and Zemo help walk you into the building. They guide you to the sofa and lay you down. Sam finds some bandages to apply to your head while Zemo pours out some whiskey for you.

“To get rid of the pain,” he says, handing it to you. He sits beside you, gently putting his hand over the bandage on your head.

“Watch it” Sam growls glaring at him,

“My apologies,” Zemo quipped, removing his hand and your heart sinks a bit as he moves away.

With the pain easing, you eventually drift off into a light sleep. You don’t know how long you slept for, but when you woke up and looked around the room, you were in was empty. Feeling stronger, you stand up and start looking around the room. You notice a door off to the side where you could hear running water. Heading towards it, you gently knock on the door.

The water stops, and the door opens slightly to reveal Zemo on the other side. As he sees you, he opens the door and pulls you into the bathroom, closing the door behind you.

“I-I didn’t mean to come in here, I just wanted to see who was around” you mutter as your eyes flicker up and down Zemo. He was currently dressed in a bathrobe, and from the way it looks, not much else. Your eyes focused on the necklace that hung around his neck. How low the bathrobe dipped, exposing a part of his chest. You felt your core warming up and your mind filled with thoughts.

Zemo chuckles as he watches your eyes run up and down him, “Liking what you see?”

You freeze, bringing you back to reality. “N-no” you say, turning around trying to open the door but Zemo wraps his arms around you pulling you to him. He leans his face into your neck kissing it making your eyes flutter shut and let out a slight moan.

“How's your head?” Zemo asks, pulling back from you and raising his hand to touch the bandage.

You turn your head slightly, looking at him annoyed. Hopping from trying to seduce you to a casual conversation as nothing happened.

“I’m fine”

“Well, forgive me darling for not believing you but last time you said that you weren’t”

“I feel better...thank you for helping me”

“Anytime darling” he whispers in your ear. As his body presses into you, you could feel near your ass a bulge pressing against you.

“Why have you been ignoring me?” he then asks

“I haven’t” you quickly reply. He turns you around and pushes you against the door, tilting his head and staring intently

“Don’t lie to me y/n”

His serious glare makes you feel fuzzy, makes you feel warm but also angry at him. He knows very dam well why you have.

“Because Zemo, you are supposed to be a bad guy. Someone I should hate! I shouldn’t be doing thinking things of you”

He leans towards you, his lips grazing yours, “Such as?”

You pause for a moment, knowing you shouldn’t step over this line, but you just can’t help it.

“Fucking you”

“Oh? Such dirty thoughts. I thought you were above such things.” Zemo purrs

“Stop teasing me!” You whine. You try to lean forward to capture his lips but he leans back, putting his finger on them.

“Ah y/n, I want you to make a promise before we get anywhere”

“What”

“Please...don’t ignore me”

You look into his eyes and for once it was like the mask he always wore, of a self-absorbed man slipped away. You were staring into the eyes of a desperately lonely man.

“I promise, but Sam and Bucky can’t know”

Zemo grins, his teeth flashing. “I won’t tell if you don’t”

His lips crash onto yours, hungrily pressing against them. You open your mouth as his tongue explores yours. His hands wander up and down your body, pressing hard against your skin. He roughly grabs your arms and pushes you over to the sink. He picks you up and places you onto it. His lips leave yours, trailing down your jaw and neck.

His fingers venture downwards as well, slipping past the hem of your trousers. He moves them down past your underwear and slips into your private parts. You gasp as his fingers graze over your clit. The feeling sending shivers through you. You can feel Zemo smirking against your skin as he leaves a hickey against your collarbone. You grasp his hair, tugging on it, making him moan into your skin.

He removes his hands from you and grasps a hold of your trousers, pulling them off. He quickly pulls down your underwear while you remove your shirt. You attempt to grasp his bathrobe, but he ducks down.

He slowly parts your thighs, trailing kisses along them as he moves closer to your core. Your legs felt like jelly, as you expected him. He chuckles looking up to you, “So needy for me” he jested before wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking.

You chuck your head back, moaning in pleasure as warmth floods your core. Your hands grasp his hair, holding him tightly as he continues to lick and suck at your clit.

“Be careful Y/n, these rooms are not soundproof” he says, releasing his lips from you but you are beyond the point of caring. You wrap your thighs around his head, pushing back to you.

His fingers touch your core, finding it soaked where they easily slip inside. You moan at the feeling of his fingers stretching you out. He pumps them in and out of you at a rapid rate while his tongue twisted on your clit, eliciting moans out of you.

“Zemo” you gasp as you felt your limit coming. “Zemo I’m going to-” you break off, unable to finish the sentence as you finally release as you see stars.

After a few moments, you are brought back to reality as you can feel Zemo run his tongue up your core drinking you in. He pulls back from you and stands up. His eyes trailing up and down your body as you lie there recovering from your pleasure. “So beautiful” he whispers.

You reach forward, grabbing a hold of his bathrobe and tugging it down his body till he wasn’t covered anymore. He swiftly moves over to a draw, pulling out a condom wrapper. Tearing it open with his mouth, he pulls the condom out and slips it onto himself.

His hands reach out to you, wrapping them around your body, pulling him closer to you. He rests his head on your shoulder as he pushes into you. You moan loudly in his ear as you feel him enter and cling to him, dragging your nails up and down his back. He grunts as he thrusts into you. Moaning as you squeeze your legs tighter for him. He trails kisses on your shoulder, gently biting a part of your skin.

“Y/N” he breathes, pulling back from your shoulder and claiming your lips again.

He pulls back from your lips and smirks at you teasingly, “Are you going to call me daddy again?”

You flush bright red remembering that night, “Damn you” you rasp out

He chuckles, leaning back towards your ear, “I don’t mind if you do”

At that moment he hits a certain spot within you, making you cry out. “There Daddy, please” you gasp and he complies, attempting to hit the spot again within you. His hands sneak back down and rub your clit, making jolts of pleasure run through you.

You feel yourself coming to another release, making you tangle your hands in his hair. You let it all out, seeing stars. After a few more thrusts, Zemo slows down and lets out a moan.

You two stay like that for a few minutes, just holding each other. Eventually, Zemo pulls back, pulling his condom off. He brushes the hair away from your face and gently places a kiss on your lips.

“You were great darling”

Tag list: @ineffablebean

Tagging who asked and showed interest in a sequel: @breakfastatlenas @prestigious-tea

[helliontherapscallion]

(Y/n) and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week: Wednesday

Monday     Tuesday     Thursday (Part 1)     Thursday (Part 2)     Friday     Saturday     Sunday

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Warnings: panic attacks, swearing, getting outed, f slur and d slur, homophobia, puking, toxic friends

Word count: 5,160

(A/N): woah, thank you all so much for all the positive feedback, that really makes my day! 

The room was quiet with the exception of the clacking of the keyboard and the soft chirping of crickets outside your open window. The stars twinkled in the sky as the night droned on and on. There was a loud rustling outside your window, but your sleep deprived mind didn’t think anything of it. It wasn’t important at the moment, the only important thing right now was finishing your work. 

Throughout the night, you worked endlessly on your friend’s work. The essays were relatively easy because Adrian and Annie had luckily chosen topics that you’re somewhat interested in, so at least finding the sources was enjoyable. You had gotten your essay completely written and proofread, Annie’s outline finished, and Adrian’s sources analyzed. You would start on Sammy’s presentation after you finished Adrian’s outline. Hours upon hours passed by you as you worked, yet you didn’t notice the time once. You worked uninterrupted with no breaks. Well, one break to talk to your dad about how you weren’t hungry, but you got back to work right after he left your room. You couldn’t waste any more time than you already have.

Your eyes felt heavy as you typed on your keyboard, working on putting Adrian’s sources together cohesively so that the writing would flow seamlessly. You paused your typing to rub at your tired eyes so you could keep working, you couldn’t afford to fall asleep. You had to get these done as soon as possible if you wanted their forgiveness. 

The blaring of your alarm startled you out of your focus, making you fall backwards out of your chair with a yelp. Landing painfully on your back, you laid on the floor trying to calm your racing heartbeat. You looked out your window. Hints of pinks and yellows were starting to make a gradient with the lightening dawn sky. Shit, you were so focused on getting your work done that you didn’t take account of the time. You just knew today was gonna be long. At least after school volleyball practice was shortened because of finals tomorrow. 

You groaned as you pulled your tired form off from the ground. You made your way downstairs and plopped yourself down at your usual place at the table, burying your face into the crook of your arm. You felt yourself drift off into a blissful sleep, the wood of the table suddenly seemed very comfortable at the moment. Not long after, you were jolted out of your peaceful sleep by a loud crash. Jumping up and looking around with wide eyes, you saw Tubbo looking at you apologetically. There was broken glass in front of his feet on the floor. 

“Sorry, (y/n).”

You just stared at him blankly as you slowly blinked. Philza didn’t spare you a glance as he whisked the short boy away from the glass. “(Y/n), can you please go get the broom and sweep this up?”

You nodded, hauling yourself to your feet and walked over to the storage closet, pulling out the broom and dust pan. You mindlessly sweeped up the glass, your limbs feeling heavy. After throwing the glass away, you rummaged in the cupboard and pulled out a mug. The bitter smell beckoned you welcomingly, working its way through your nostrils and digging itself deep into your brain. Just as you were about to pour yourself a cup, a hand snatched the coffee pot away from you. 

“You shouldn’t be drinking this.”

“You let Techno and Wil drink it, so why can’t I?”

“(Y/n), you’re a full year younger than them and you haven’t eaten anything since breakfast yesterday.”

You felt your eye twitch, “I’m only a year younger than them! There’s literally no-”

“(Y/n),” his warning tone cut you off, putting the pot back into the coffee maker, “you aren’t going to drink this. That’s final. Get a glass of water.”

You huffed and pushed past him to the sink to fill your coffee mug with water. You’ve been drinking coffee for a while behind his back, so you were used to its effects on your body. You supposed that you’d just beg Wilbur to take you to the cafe so you could get your sustenance. He always relented for you. 

You heard him chuckle, “you’ll thank me when you’re older.”

“Mhm.”

You plopped down next to Tubbo nursing your mug of water, trying to make small talk with him. One by one, your brothers made their way to the table. Tommy was talking and gesturing wildly to Tubbo like he normally did, Wilbur looked as dead inside as you felt, and Techno made it a point to ignore you. When someone pissed him off, he can hold a grudge better than he could hold onto his knowledge of Greek mythology, and that’s saying something. Man is obsessed with Greek mythology. 

Breakfast went by in a daze with you struggling to keep your eyes open. At one point, you almost fell asleep sitting up, only to be woken up by Tubbo shaking your shoulder to get your attention. When breakfast was almost done, you had only eaten about half your breakfast. 

Drifting off again, you were startled awake by the screeching of the chairs against the wooden floor and loud shouts coming from your brothers. You didn’t have the energy to race them to the bathroom like you usually did, you’d just freshen up after they were done. You tried to stand up to go to your room to get dressed, but you were stopped by a hand on your shoulder forcing you to sit back down. Looking up, you were met with the concerned, yet stern eyes of your father. 

“You’re not leaving this table until you’ve eaten at least a few more bites and tell me why you’re so tired.”

“I just stayed up later than I normally do finishing up some homework, it won’t happen again.”

“It better not or else I will make you stay home next time. When’d you go to bed last night?”

You avoided his eyes, “around one thirty or two.” You couldn’t tell him that you didn’t actually go to sleep last night, he’d flip. 

“You know, you’re a terrible liar.” Shit.

Looking him in the eye, you spoke more confidently. “Three in the morning.”

“(Y/n)-”

You felt a sudden rage start to twist inside you as he started to lecture you about taking better care of yourself. He was treating you like a child and you were not having it. 

“-young kids like you need to- are you even listening?”

You set your jaw and willed yourself not to explode at him. “Dad, I’m not a child. I know how to take care of myself.”

You saw him narrow his eyes and purse his lips in frustration, “well, obviously you don’t if you’re not eating or sleeping well,” his eyes softened. “I’m starting to worry about you.”

“Well, you shouldn’t because I’m fine,” you snapped at him. “I’m going to get ready.”

You stalked out of the room and stomped upstairs. Passing a shocked Tommy and Tubbo, you made your way into the bathroom to get ready. The person that stared back at you in the mirror looked pale and had dark eye bags accentuating her tired eyes. She had red pimples dotting her face more than she usually did. She was ugly, revolting. The girl you remembered her being was confident in her appearance and walked with an air of importance. Now, she was a decrepit thing that was run down and scared of her own shadow. You couldn’t recognize the girl that stared back at you anymore. You should’ve been able to;  after all, she was you and you were her.

You rushed through your morning routine in the bathroom avoiding looking at yourself in the mirror. You opened the bathroom door only to be met with Wilbur’s chest, his hand poised in the air in a closed fist ready to knock on the door. He stepped back.

“We’re gonna be late if you don’t hurry up.”

You glanced at the clock on the wall. “Wil, we still have twenty minutes before school starts. We don’t have to leave for another ten minutes.”

He gave you a smirk, “well, you want coffee, don’t you? You look dead.”

“Oh thank god. I feel dead, I didn’t sleep at all last night.”

“When’d you go to bed?”

“I didn’t.”

“Christ, (y/n) I knew you were a dumbass, but not that much of a dumbass.”

You rolled your eyes, walking around him and into your room. You felt a stab of hurt in your heart. “Fuck you.”

Before you could close the door, he shouted out a cheeky “love ya too (y/n)!”

You took off all your clothes slowly and stood in front of your open closet deciding on what you should wear today. You figured that since you felt like absolute shit, you should probably put a little bit more effort into your appearance. Picking out your favorite flannel shirt and favorite pair of pants. Smiling at yourself in the mirror in your room, you felt slightly more confident in your appearance. You felt like you could walk around the hallways at school without as many peering eyes trying to figure out your every secret. But maybe that was just the sleep deprivation talking. You tend to be more impulsive and emotional when you’re sleep deprived.

You slung the backpack onto your back with less difficulty than in the previous days. Your back was healing faster than you thought it would. Now, it barely hurt and the swelling completely went away.

You went downstairs and slunk past the kitchen where Philza was talking to Tommy and Tubbo. You didn’t want them to notice you, you felt somewhat guilty for snapping at your dad. You slipped through the front door and hopped into the passenger seat next to Wilbur. You three usually rotated seats counterclockwise and took turns driving each day. Now, you were just waiting for Techno.  

“Well, you look less homeless today.”

“Thanks Wilbur, I just felt like looking a little nicer than usual.”

“Who’re ya dressing up for? Is it Adrian?” He asked with slight disgust. He hated Adrian almost as much as he hated Annie and Sammy. He thought he was nothing more than a fuckboy looking to get into your pants. Little did he know you were secretly a raging lesbian so deep in the closet that you’re froliking with Aslan through the flowerfields of Narnia.

“Wilbur, I’m gay why would I-” you froze, cursing your sleep deprived self for lacking a filter. Your breath caught in your throat and you felt anxiety start to seep into your veins and pump around your body, filling every single nook and cranny with dread. You could feel tears welling in your eyes as you stared at your shaking hands horrified at yourself. How could you just… just out yourself like that? How could you be so careless? So stupid?

You barely felt it when Wilbur reached over to press a gentle hand on your arm. “(Y/n), are yo-”

“I-tha-that was a joke, I’m not gay, I’m straight.” Your words came out in frantic jumbles, desperately trying to fix your slip up. Oh god, you really fucked up this time.

“(Y/n), brea-”

“I swear I’m not gay, I like men, I do. I-”

“(Y/n), breathe with me.” Wilbur’s firm, yet gentle voice demanded. He placed your hand on his chest and took in a deep breath, held it, and released it slowly. You tried your best to follow him, but after about ten minutes, you were slowly but surely calming down. It was a lot faster calming down from a panic attack when you had someone helping you breathe. You’ve never gotten help with a panic attack before, it was nice. Becoming more aware of your surroundings, you took notice of the soft fabric of Wilbur’s sweater, the gentle thumping of his heart, and his worried expression. You also became aware of the extra hand rubbing small circles into your shoulder from behind your seat. It was Techno.

Taking in a shaky breath, you took your hand out of Wilbur’s grip and clasped your hands tightly in front of you, shrugging Techno’s hand off from your shoulder. 

“...Can we please leave? I don’t want Dad or Tubbo and Tommy seeing me like this.”

Wordlessly, Wilbur started up the car and pulled out of the driveway. At the intersection, he turned in the opposite direction of the school. “Wilbur, where are we going? The school’s the other way.”

“We’re going to the cafe for some coffee, my treat.”

“But school starts in five minutes, we’re gonna be late if we go to the cafe.”

“Actually,” Techno’s deep voice chimed in, “school started ten minutes ago. If we’re already late, there’s no harm in skipping first block.”

“Tech, I literally have no idea what’s going on in stats.”

“I’ll give you my notes.”

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to bother you.”

Wilbur pulled into the cafe’s parking lot, “don’t be stupid, (y/n). You can never bother us.”

You didn’t say anything as you left the car and headed into the cafe. You could think of plenty of ways you could bother your older brothers. You bothered everybody just by being in their presence. You just had that effect. 

Your brothers followed you into the cafe, glancing at each other worriedly. You three quickly got your orders and sat in the secluded back of the cafe. Soft jazz music drifted throughout the quiet cafe. 

“(Y/n), we need to talk about what happened. Was this your first panic attack?” Wilbur asked you gently.

“...No, I’ve had them before.” 

“Were they always this intense? You’re still shaking.”

“That one was nowhere near as intense as the ones I usually have.’

“Usually? Do you have them often?” Tecno asked.

“Yeah, usually a couple of them a week since the middle of freshman year. Nothing I can’t manage.”

“So you’ve been doing this on your own for three years? You could’ve gotten us to help you.” 

You sighed, looking down at your steaming cup. “...I couldn’t’ve. Don’t get me wrong, I know you guys could help me, but I-I just couldn’t. No one was supposed to find out.”

“Promise us that you’ll come to one of us when you have an attack. We care about you, (y/n).”

“I… I’ll think about it. Thank you.”

The table fell into a comfortable silence as you all sipped at your drinks, the comforting taste of the bitter coffee dancing across your tongue.

“Ya know, we don’t care that you’re gay. A lesbian called me ‘actually pretty funny’ once and I’m still riding the high.” 

“Yeah, you’re still you. Nothing changes the fact that you’re our little sister.” 

You smiled as you felt warm inside. You knew your brothers loved you, but you didn’t know that they loved you for being you. You didn’t think anybody loved you unconditionally like that, and that made you feel genuinely happy.

“Thank you guys, for everything. I-I can’t put into words how much that means to me, I love you guys so much!”

“We love you too,” Wilbur smiled before he dropped it into a stern frown. “But if any girl hurts you, we’ll have a stern talking to her.”

“Yeah, we can’t beat up girls. We’ll put her in her place alright.” You snorted into your coffee, almost spilling it on yourself. Quickly setting it down before you could baptize yourself with the scalding liquid (though, you did consider coffee to be holy), you wiped at your teary eyes. 

“And that’s why I love you guys.”

“We’re serious, she’ll be wishing she got beat up after we’re done scolding her.” Wilbur said seriously before he broke into a grin and started laughing. 

The conversation carried on about your sexuality, how you found out, when you found out, if you’ve told anyone yet (they were honored that they were the first people you’ve told, even if you did it accidentally mid-panic attack). Eventually you had to go back to the school before your second block started. You three split ways to your separate classrooms. 

Annie and Adrian were locked onto you as soon as you walked through the door. They looked angry at you. What’d you do this time to piss them off?

“Where the fuck were you this morning? We were looking everywhere for you,” Annie seethed.

“Yeah, you wasted so much of our time looking for your sorry ass. You ditch us again?”

Oh, that. “Look, I didn’t mean to skip out on you guys again. It was a rough morning.” 

“That’s funny because we also had rough mornings, yet we still hung out with each other. You aren’t special.” Adrian rolled his eyes at you.

“It’s gonna take more to apologize. We don’t let things like the little stunts you pull go off scott free.”

“Oh, Annie I have the best idea,” Adrian squealed, bouncing on the balls of his feet excitedly. 

“What is it Dri?” Annie’s eyes shone.

“Our little (y/n) can set you up with one of her brothers and she can go on a date with me on a double date! It’s foolproof, not even someone as dumb as (y/n) could fuck it up.” 

“I don’t think that’s a good id-”

“It’s perfect Dri! Can it be with Wilbur? He’s literally so hot! Oh, the way his fingers can work that guitar…” Ew. The thought of Wilbur and Annie together made you scrunch up your nose with disgust.

“I’m sorry, but Wilbur’s actually dating Sally Fishmin right now. They’re actually really cute together-”

“God, how could someone as hot as Wilbur go for Sally Fishmin? She’s disgusting, always smells like fish,” Annie gagged, then gasped. “Wait (y/n) do you actually think that she’s more deserving to be with him than I am?”

“No, I nev-”

“Really? Cuz you just did. Glad to see you care about me, (y/n).”

“Annie, you’re literally so beautiful. I never said that you don’t deserve him. You deserve the world. I can’t split them up, but I can do more homework for you.” She perked up immediately, “awe, thanks love! That’s what happens when you actually put effort into how you look.”

“Speaking of, did you get that shirt out of the trash? It’s really not a look.” Adrian snickered to himself. There goes what little confidence you had. You actually thought you looked decent today. You felt grateful for your friends, they always told you the truth about how you looked when everybody else lied to you. 

Before you could respond, the bell rang and everybody took their seats. Luckily, Mr. Todd assigned today as a work day for your final research essays. You had finished Annie’s and got Adrian’s thesis done before the bell rang. While you were working on their essays, they were mindlessly scrolling on their phones and texting someone. 

You, Adrian, and Annie met up with Sammy and went into the lunch room. You tried to line up in the lunch line with them, but they laughed and told you that you’re fat enough and you needed to lose weight. What did you do to deserve such considerate friends? You really owed them one for always looking out for and putting up with you.

While you were waiting for them, you pulled out your phone. To your surprise, Haley texted you a screenshot of her conversation with Unknown. You felt a chill run down your spine. All four pictures were of you. You rubbing your eyes as the light of your computer provided the only light in the room. Your bare back facing the camera as you stood in front of your closet this morning. You sleeping a day ago (you felt sick as you realized that whoever took the picture was standing directly over your bed). Lastly, you and Haley holding each other’s hand under the moonlight last night. Attached to the pictures, Unknown had typed “you have one more day or else sleeping ugly gets it. Do not tempt us.”

Hales : )

(Y/n), how the hell did they get these pictures of you

Did you seriously leave your window open???

Why wouldn’t you close your curtains

Oh god, do you think they saw us in your driveway????

(Y/n)

Haley calm down 

Hales : )

I know you’re not telling me to calm down right now

You have a stalker

One that can GET INSIDE YOUR ROOM

(Y/n)

We’ll get to the bottom of this

Like I said, I don’t care if my pictures get leaked

I care about your pictures

Until we figure out who’s doing this, we need to lay low

Hales : )

Hanging out last night was a mistake

I shouldn’t have gave you a ride

I shouldn’t have tried to kiss you

I’m straight

And you are too

You said it yourself

We can’t talk anymore (y/n)

(Y/n)

I’m not straight Hales

I’m gay

And I like you

Like

Like you like you

Hales : )

I’m sorry (y/n)

But I’m straight

We can’t talk anymore

Goodbye.

With each text she sent you, you felt your heart drop deeper and deeper into your stomach until you felt your heart shatter in your chest, the pieces lodging themselves deep within you and ripping you open from inside out. How could you be so stupid to think that soemone as perfect as Haley Andrews, arguably the prettiest girl in the senior year, go out with (y/n) Minecraft, a known trainwreck. Annie’s shrill gasp sounded right next to your ear, making you gasp and drop your phone onto the table with a loud bang.

“OH MY GOD (Y/N) YOU’RE A FAGGOT? WERE YOU HITTING ON ME EARLIER? YOU FUCKING PERVERT.”

The entire cafeteria fell into silence as they listened to Annie’s shrieking. Whispers started to meld together.

“(Y/n)’s gay?”

“How gross”

“Damn, I was gonna hit it”

“We have a dyke going to this school?”

You felt like you were suffocating as the whispers and Annie’s yelling jumbled together in a disorienting cacophony. Adrian and Sammy both glared at you from behind Annie with a hatred that you didn’t know they had for you. You tried stuttering an apology, but you were quickly shut up by Annie harshly slapping you across the face.

“I don’t wanna hear it, fag. You’re going to finish our essays and you’re never gonna talk to us again. Do you understand me?” When you didn’t respond, she slapped you again. “I asked you, do you understand me?” 

You frantically nodded your head, grabbed your backpack, and sprinted out the door without any real destination in mind. You sprinted before you found the bathroom that nobody used. Ducking into a stall and slamming the door, you felt yourself start to hyperventilate. You couldn’t feel anything except for the tightness of your chest. You couldn’t see anything. You couldn’t hear anything. You faintly tasted bile rising up in your throat as you bent over to empty your stomach. You threw up everything in your stomach until you were left sitting on the dirty floor painfully dry heaving. 

You sobbed on that floor for what felt like hours. Everybody knows your secret now. Your dirty, dirty secret. God, you were a pervert weren’t you? You made people around you comfortable by just being you. Faintly, you felt your phone start to buzz in your pocket, your shaky hands scrambling to fish it out. They were all texts from your brothers.

Wilby

(Y/n) I heard what happened

Are you okay????

Please answer me

Where are you

Technology Sword

I’m gonna kill them

I swear to god they’re dead

Blood for the blood god

(Y/n)

Pls dont do anything or hurt anyone

I’m fine

I’ll see you two after practice

Wilby

Tell us where you are

(Y/n)

I’m fine

I’ll see you two after practice

You silenced your phone and put it back into your pocket, once again feeling yourself start to dry heave again. Your sobs and gags echoed throughout the bathroom. This is by far the worst panic attack you’ve had yet, and it doesn’t seem like it’s gonna stop anytime soon. You heard the final bell ring and students start to rush to their lockers to get home, so you tried to muffle your shaking sobs the best you could. You had at least an hour before you had to go to volleyball practice. Until then, you would stay in the bathroom trying to ground yourself. 

Luckily, you managed to calm down to the point where you stopped crying and dry heaving. You were only shaking slightly. You felt numb and completely drained from your panic attack, practice today was going to be a struggle. You cautiously walked through the empty hallways jumping at every little noise. When you finally reached the locker room, you made a beeline past Zara and Jazzy to your locker. You pulled out your uniform and changed in one of the bathroom stalls.

Practice went by with the girls on the team giving you sympathetic looks and Haley ignoring you. Not that you noticed, you were ignoring everyone and putting all of your focus on the ball. The entire practice, you felt light headed and drained. Fortunately, practice ended right as you felt like you were going to pass out.

You changed as fast as you could and pulled out your phone.

Dadza

Come outside, I’m here to pick you up

You felt a dread pool in your stomach as you stared at the text. Did he find out? Was he going to kick you out for being gay? Wilbur and Techno wouldn’t let him do that to you, right? Reluctantly, you left the sanctuary of the bathroom stall and rushed out of the locker room and out of the school. Sure enough, your dad’s car was parked in the parking lot. You glanced over to where Haley’s car was parked last night and saw glimpses of you and her chasing each other and laughing into the night sky without a care in the world before you ripped your gaze away to stare at your walking feet.

You reached your dad’s car and sat in the passenger seat. Your dad grinned at you. “Hey hun, how was practice?”

You merely shrugged your shoulders at him. You didn’t have the energy to talk to anyone at the moment. You felt extremely drained.

“What’s wrong, did something happen? You can talk to me.”

“...I’m just sad that the season’s over tomorrow.”

“Don’t be sad kid,” a gruff voice coming from behind you made you jump. “That’s pussy shit.”

You yelped and whipped your head around to look at whoever said that. Your uncle’s cocky grin greeted you. You felt yourself grin back at him. 

“Uncle Schlatt!”

“The one and only.”

“How was your business trip? You’re home early.”

He rolled his eyes, “boring as hell. I’m so fucking glad I got out early, I woulda blew my brains out if I had to stay there any longer.”

“Schlatt!” Philza reprimanded him, glancing at him through the rearview mirror.

“What? I’m just telling the truth. I woulda!” He defended himself.

Your dad gripped the steering wheel. “You didn’t have to say it in front of (y/n).”

Schlatt scoffed, “please, she’s heard me say worse.” 

As they bickered, you felt yourself zone out as you looked out the window. Houses and street signs passed by in a blur as the car moved down the road and pulled into your driveway. You got out as quickly as you could and made your way into the house alongside your uncle and dad. As soon as your uncle walked through the door, Tubbo barrelled into him and pulled him into a tight hug. Schlatt laughed loudly and bent over to pick him up into a hug. You smiled at the father and son as Philza gestured for you to follow him into the kitchen. He opened the oven to check on something cooking inside of it and turned to face you, leaning against the counter.

“So what’s really wrong?”

“I already told you, I’m sad the season’s almost over.”

“It’s something more than that,” as you opened your mouth he quickly added, “and you can’t say that it’s because you’re tired. I wasn’t born yesterday.”

You sighed and mimicked his actions. “...It’s just been a long day. I really don’t wanna talk about it.”

Without warning, he pulled you into a warm hug, your face being shoved into his shoulder and him rubbing circles into your back. “That’s okay, just talk to me when you’re ready. I won’t push you.”

That broke you. Throwing your arms around him, you started to sob into his shoulder. He started to rock you back and forth whispering reassurances into your ear. 

“That’s good, let it all out.”

“I love you so much.”

“I’m here for you.”

With each sentence to fall out of his mouth, you felt more at ease and safe. Your dad always did a great job at making people feel safe, that was just his natural talent. After a while, you pulled away from him.

“Do you feel better?”

You smiled tiredly at him, “Yeah, I really needed a hug.”

He turned around to check on dinner, “I bet, you look like you’ve been to hell and back. You don’t have to tell me what happened, but just know that I’m always here for you and I love you.”

The rest of the family flooded the kitchen after a while of you two talking. Dinner went by with Schlatt laughing loudly and telling stories about the people he met on his business trip. Every now and then, Wilbur and Techno would glance at you, but you ignored them. You just wanted dinner to end so you could pass out in your bed. Once dinner was over, you helped your dad gather everybody’s plate and put them into the sink. The rest of your little family went to the living room to start a game of Monopoly. The last time you all played that ended in fresh bruises and shed tears.

“I think I’m gonna go to bed, I have to get some rest for finals tomorrow.”

“But (y/n), it’s Monopoly! You love Monopoly,” Tommy exclaimed.

“That’s alright, you look dead on your feet kid. Go get some sleep.”

“Thanks Uncle Schlatt. Goodnight everyone, love ya.”

A flurry of goodnights and love you’s follow you as you leave the room and drug yourself up the stairs. Without a second thought, you closed your curtains and plopped face first onto your bed. You passed out without even making sure you were fully on your bed.

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[afeb]

Bucky Barnes - Salvation

long and kinda slow-burn :)

“Stay safe you,” Matt said as I walked out of the small bookshop.

“Always try.” I smiled back as I skipped down the steps.

I scanned over the books I’d bought on my short walk home, turning the first few pages and already sinking into the stories within. The streets were quiet, sun setting as I hurried home to avoid dark.

I finally stepped foot inside my apartment and immediately went around and turned on all the lamps. I detested the dark, an old habit I found hard to break, as I swiftly checked from room to room. I did this to make sure no one was inside, but in the back of my mind I only looked for one man. Books placed on the side, I was about to sit down when a heavy knock sounded from the door.

“Bloody hell,” I muttered as I walked over. I swung open the door.

Fuck.

Slamming it shut quickly my heart raced and face paled. I could throw up, or faint, and I considered doing both. How did he know where I lived? What was he planning on doing? I bargained that I’d never go to police, and I didn’t for that matter, so why is he here?

“Y/N?” The Winter Solider said through the door.

“I-I haven’t told anyone.” I said.

“That isn’t why I’m here.” His voice was softer than I remembered, he sounded...normal.

“P-Please just go.” I begged, hand still tightly holding the doorknob.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he promised. “I won’t even come into the apartment, I just need to say something.”

I peeped through the spy hole, making sure he was alone. He usually was, however, on one occasion he brought back up. That was the worst of times.

“Step away from the door.” I ordered, to which he readily complied and took two large steps back. I opened the door a crack, waiting for him to pounce. But he remained firmly planted in his spot.

Warily, I creaked the door open. He was dressed in black jeans, a navy top and a black leather jacket. His hair was cut short, his beard was growing out and he no longer donned the muzzle he used to in public. Gloves covered his hand. He looked completely normal.

“My name is James Buchanan Barnes, and I am no longer the Winter Solider,” he said. “Apologising to you is my way of making amends with my past.”

I furrowed my brows. “What?”

He gulped. “I...I did awful things to you, and I’m sorry.”

“Is this...is this a joke?” I asked, peeping my head out a little and looking down the hallway.

He shook his head. “I’m trying to be a better person, and apologising to you is part of that. I could also, do things for you?”

My eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

“No!” He said. “No, I meant like...jobs or, I dunno...anything.”

“I’m so confused.” I whined as I rubbed my eyes. “Are you going to kill me?”

He shook his head. “No.”

His eyes looked pleadingly at me. He was alone, he looked normal and I could feel the truth drip off his words. After a long pause, I sighed deeply.

“Do you want to come in?” I stepped aside.

“If that’s okay.” He stiffly smiled and walked past me.

I shut the door and watched him. He looked around the small space, standing in the hallway. I had photos lining the walls, all of friends and family, and he took care to look at some of them.

“You can take off your coat and gloves.” He nodded and shrugged of his jacket, however, chose to leave the gloves on.

“Nice place.” He complimented.

“Thanks,” I had no clue how to act around him. He followed behind me as I led him into the kitchen, turning to face him as he lingered in the doorway. “I was going to cook some dinner.”

He nodded. “Anything special?”

I shook my head. “You could...join, we could talk.”

“That would be...nice.” He smiled.

I cooked in near silence. James took a seat at the small table by the window and watched me as I mulled around the kitchen. Chicken in, salad made, I turned to face him.

“It’ll be about half an hour.” I said as I sat opposite him.

“You’re being very kind.” He said.

“So, what is this?” I gestured between us.

He leant back. “The US Government has pardoned me, and part of that agreement is that I have to go to therapy. My Doc came up with a plan to help me...move on from my past. I have to go around and make amends with the people I hurt, or helped, and that means you.”

I nodded. “How many have you done?” I asked.

“A few,” he said. “I was...I was putting off doing you.”

I frowned. “Why?”

His eyes cast over to me as he took a shaky breath. “I...hurt you. In life changing ways, even if you forgave me, I could never forgive myself.”

I pursed my lips for a moment and didn’t speak. His eyes looked down at his lap, a sad expression coming over his face.

“I hated you,” I whispered. “I always thought in my head that if I ever got the chance, I’d kill you. But then I spent a while researching you, your past. What they did to you, how they treated you, what they made you do. And I realised, it wasn’t really you who hurt me, it was them.”

He gazed at me through his lashes. “Y/N...”

“You have nothing to apologise for,” I smiled, reaching over and taking his hand. “Water under the bridge.”

His hands flexed, squeezing mine. “Water under the bridge.” He repeated.

The gloves were soft against my hands as I peered down at them. “Can I see?”

His face grew uneasy as he shifted in his seat. “Um...yeah, sure.”

He peeled the gloves of slowly, almost waiting to me to stop him. The metal had changed. Instead of the bright silver I was used to, it instead was sleek black with gold details. He rolled his sleeve up as high as it would go, the infamous star now gone. It suited him better, I thought, complimented him more.

“It looks nice,” I smiled. “Better than the old one.”

“Thank you.”

“Could I?” He gave me a nod as I ran my ran over the cool metal.

It was really a work of art. Oddly, this one didn’t scare me. The other had felt my skin, brought me to the edge of death so many times, but this one? This one had only gently squeezed me hands.

We both jumped as the oven beeped, giggling a little as I stood and plated up our meal. We ate quietly, James complimenting my cooking one too many times. The evening drew on and soon James was shrugging on his jacket and lingering by the door.

“Thank you,” he smiled. “Dinner was amazing.”

I laughed. “I’ll have to cook it again.”

His eyes glistened with happiness at the chance of us seeing each other again. “I’d like that.”

I opened the door for him. “It was nice seeing you, the real you.”

He nodded. “I meant it you know, need a boiler fixing, walls painted, I’ll do it.”

He quickly scribbled his number in a small notebook and ripped out the page and handed it to me. “I’ll keep that in mind,”

“Bye.”

“Bye.” He danced around me for a moment before enveloping me in a short, tight hug.

Weeks passed and I didn’t contact him. I thought I’d be a painful reminder of his past and thus didn’t want to keep contact with him. That was, until my sink burst and my landlord claimed it wasn’t his responsibility. I’d tried hard to fix it myself, and the local plumbers charged ridiculous rates, so I found myself texting James.

To James B -

Hi! Sorry I haven’t contacted you before, been very busy! Could I pick up the favour you owe me? My sink has burst and I’m in desperate need of a plumber. - Y/N

I didn’t expect a reply, but he text back before I’d even put my phone back on the table.

From James B -

Hey! No worries. Heading over now.

I scrambled to tidy the apartment, dreading to confess I in fact lived like a pig most days. After a frantic half an hour, a knock sounded from the door.

“You’re a life saver,” I sighed as I opened the door.

James offered a lopsided smile, shrugging his shoulders. “No worries,”

“It burst two days ago, I had a go myself but I think I made it worse.” James set his bag of tools on the counter and opened the cupboard under the sink.

“Oh yeah, I see what’s wrong,” he silently set to work, laying on his back and doing god-knows-what.

After a while I went into the living room and read my book, curling my legs underneath me and settling down. James banged about the kitchen and a swear word or two later, he popped his head around the door.

“Done.”

“So soon?” I quickly stood and bounced into the kitchen. I turned the tap and stepped back, expecting water to drown my feet, but instead it simply swirled down the drain. “It lives!”

James chuckled at my remark. “A few bolts came loose and disconnected, easy stuff really,”

“Thank you James.”

“Bucky,” he quickly said. “Call me Bucky.”

“Thank you, Bucky.” I smiled. “Want to stay for lunch?”

“Yeah,”

We chatted mindlessly as we made sandwiches, Bucky telling me about his childhood. When he was the Winter Soldier I only heard gruff orders, but he had a voice that sounded smooth and sweet. His eyes lit up when he spoke of his siblings and parents, of a life that felt like thousands of years ago.

“You got a boyfriend?” Bucky asked, fiddling with the label on his beer.

I cocked a brow. “No, you?”

“No.” Bucky said. “I’ve tried these dating websites but...feel out of my depth.”

I nodded in understanding. “I abandoned those long ago,”

“I’m glad you text me.” He said. “I’ve spent the last few weeks wondering if you would.”

“Truthfully, I thought you wouldn’t want to speak to me.” I confessed.

“Why would you think that?” He frowned.

“I’m a reminder of your past,” I explained. “I can understand that even looking at me must be hard for you.”

Bucky paused for a moment and scanned over my face. “I see you as my salvation, not my damnation.”

I smiled. “I don’t think I said it before,” I shuffled a little closer. “But I forgive you, Bucky.”

His breath hitched, arm dropping to rest behind my head. “Say it again.” He whispered.

“I forgive you.”

Our bodies were close, Bucky resting his forehead against mine. I closed my eyes and waited for him to make a move, but they fluttered back open when I felt the moment slipping.

“I don’t want to push it,” he confessed.

“You aren’t.” I promised.

“I did bad things to you,” his hand stroked over my cheek.

“Then do something good.”

His lips pressed to mine. They were soft, softer than I’d thought, and he went slow and easy. I sighed into the kiss and pressed my body flush against his, my hands planting on his chest. His hand on the back of the couch slid off and looped behind me back, pressing me further into his as the other hand slid into my hair and held me close.

“Please,” he mumbled against me.

“Yes.”

Bucky eased me back into the sofa, lips still pressed tightly to mine as he eased between my splayed thighs. My hands moved up to fist his short hair, causing a quiet groan to escape his lips. Bucky’s hands held onto my hips as he gently, almost teasingly, ground his crotch to mine.

“Lemme make it better,” he whispered, trailing kisses down my cheek and neck.

“You can do anything,” I breathlessly promised, rolling my body up.

His hand slid down my stomach and into the back of my loose trousers, cupping my clothed pussy and flexing his fingers. I gasped and threw my head back, Bucky surfacing to peer down at me with hooded eyes.

“There?” I nodded at his question.

His fingers eased my underwear to the side and felt over the slickness he’d created. The cool metal of his hand ran over my burning cheeks and I thanked god for the relief of coldness in this moment. My eyes widened as his finger tips circled my swollen bud.

“So wet,” he murmured, gazing into my eyes.

“For you.” I whimpered back, cupping his cheeks.

“Me?” I nodded. “Good girl,”

I moaned again at his words, his fingers picking up their pace. My back arched as he eased two fingers into me, stretching me out. He groaned a little, muttering something about my tightness, before pressing his lips to mine.

“O-Other hand,” I said against his lips.

“What?” He pulled back, stopping his movements.

“Can you u-use your other hand?” I pouted my lips.

“Are you sure?” He furrowed his brows.

I nodded. Bucky removed his hand from my underwear, offering his glistening fingers to my lips. I hastily took them in my mouth, small hand wrapping around his wrist as I sucked. He momentarily closed his eyes, losing himself for a second before easing his metal hand between our bodies.

“Really?” He questioned again, playing with the waistband of my trousers.

I bucked my hips. “Please,”

I couldn’t help the loud moan that left my mouth as his metal fingers resumed his flesh fingers task. They rubbed tightly into my clit, causing my eyes to pinch shut and my jaw to slacken and drop.

“Such a good girl for me,” he cooed against my cheek.

I whimpered again. “I-I’m-“

“Gonna cum baby?” He asked, fingers increasing their speed.

I nodded and cried. “Yes!”

“Like feeling my metal hand, huh?” He teased with a smirk.

“I do! Yes!” My nails bit into the skin of his forearm, the other hand running over the smooth metal of his shoulder. “Oh Bucky!”

“Cum,” he shortly ordered. “Please baby, please cum.”

My head threw back and I saw stars. My back arched as Bucky wrapped and arm under me and held me close. He moaned softly into my neck, grounding his crotch against my thigh. My arms loops around his neck as I shuddered against him.

“S-Stop,” I begged, gently coaxing his hand from my underwear.

“Sorry baby.” He sighed into my neck.

We stayed tangled in each other for a moment before I reached a teasing hand down between us. Bucky quickly stopped me, sheepishly grinning down at me.

“I already...just then...” he blushed.

“Really?” I giggled.

“You have no idea how good you looked.” He whispered, pecking my lips.

I smiled warmly, stroking over his cheek. “Would you like to grab a coffee with me?”

He laughed loudly. “I’ll do more than that.”

[4dtk]

stare

just kiss u losers!!!!! lots of sexual tension btw!!!!

there's no telling of the frustration nanami felt as your twirled the pen in your hand, no doubt listening to a playlist that allowed you to sit in some... questionable ways.

nanami shifts in his seat, locked on how your pen comes to rest on your lips as you pondered over the next step in your report.

you had offered to complete your paperwork with the stoic male, knowing he'd get you to do work without fail if you feel tempted to go on the godforsaken tiktok app. but right now, nanami figured he was the one distracted by the way you were seated, with your skin tight outfit accentuating your hips and chest, while your bored foot moved up and down in a search to make your report sound professional.

"nanamin?" you asked curiously, head tilted like you weren't aware of what you were doing, sinking your teeth into the tip of the pen as you stared at him through the black sunglasses gojo had gifted you.

a birthday present which you had accepted out of confusion, although gojo waved off the thanks like he's given you a trophy. nanami could only scoff on that day, internally wishing he had something to give, too, even though it wasn't a special day of any sort.

that's what he wanted to do, on top of way too many things he's thought of when he's brushing his teeth or making his bed. nanami wanted to spoil you with things endlessly and kiss your plump lips in the early morning. he wanted to see you in his arms in pictures and he wanted to exorcise curses with you.

he wanted to-

"what is it?" he breaks off the racing thoughts with his surprisingly calm voice.

"well, that was what i was wondering. you're staring," you raise an eyebrow, turning down the volume of your music.

nanami swallowed, licking his lips in nervousness as his eyes flicked between his report, yours and your eyes.

"was i?" he coughed, adjusting the glasses on his face, "you must excuse me, then."

your provocative stare breaks as you grin, "i'm just kidding, dummy. stare all you want!" you laugh as if you didn't just catch nanami's shaky breath at your personality change, because you yourself were masking the tension in your movements all too well.

couldn't the man take a damn clue?

"although... you don't seem to notice when i do, right?" you tease again, putting down the pen as well as the paper, turning to look at him with full view of your eyes as you took off the glasses.

"are you for real, (y/n)?" he sighs, leaning back in his chair to cross his arms across his body.

"100%."

he decides to amuse you anyway, ignoring the way his throat goes dry.

"who says i don't?" nanami challenges, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table. he matches you: taking his time to remove his glasses as well, boring holes into you with levelled eyes.

"forgive my foul language, but, i'm sure you stare at me thinking of things you want to do to me, yes?" he murmurs, picking at the corner of his report as the paper curls in on itself.

"and you don't?"

nanami breathes out through his nose.

god, gojo was never going to let him down if he saw this.

"of course i do, love," the single nickname was enough to make you flare up, standing your ground by looking at him through hooded eyes. he was composed enough to lean forward, keeping his face neutral as his gaze made you feel things you shouldn't.

"but i'm not quite as obvious as you are. i just happen to lose myself a bit there, never as much as you do."

now it was your turn to gulp.

"but alas, i might be seeing things. maybe you just like the clothes i'm wearing," he says nonchalantly.

nanami didn't know where the confidence came from, but he's relieved to win this round even if his hands couldn't stop shaking.

the male stands up abruptly, nodding you a goodbye while you sink back in your chair, heart beating a hundred miles per minute.

you were unaware of the other leaning against the walls of his office outside, trying to compose himself of the encounter with a hand to his temple and a hand to his heart.

you were going to be the death of him, literally.

[hyuckssunchip]

Lots to Say

Pairings: Renjun x Reader, ft. Jeno

Words: 1.3K

Warnings: Language (there is almost always language in my writings), angst, fluff

Synopsis:

Renjun missed your anniversary date and must find a way to make it up to you. Will it work?

You stared blankly at the black screen as you were situated on the couch. To be honest you had been waiting there for so long that you were sure that your butt was getting numb, but yet you refused to move. 

You wanted to be the first thing that he saw when he walked in that door.

It was around midnight, when you heard the jingling of his keys at the front door, and you braced yourself.

It took a few moments for him to recognize that you were waiting for him on the couch. A wave of guilt crashed over him. It wasn’t sudden, but a build up as he had been feeling all the way home. 

But the look on your face set him off. HIs heart plummeted at the way that you had stayed up waiting for him, the way that your hair was still made up, the way that you hadn’t bothered to change out of your dress. 

There was a silent understanding the moment your eyes met, and he already felt utterly helpless.

“Please Y/N, you know I didn’t do it on purpose.” His brows were furrowed, a worried expression wrought his face. “You know I wouldn’t do that.”

You refused to look at him, chest heaving in at even the mere thought of meeting his eyes. With a heavy sigh, you lifted yourself up from the couch, mouth suddenly parched beyond belief. The door slammed shut behind you but you didn’t pay it any mind. Your throat felt scratchy as you fumbled around the kitchen for a glass of water.

“There’s some clean cups in the top left cabinet.” You were startled by Jeno’s sudden appearance, but you nevertheless followed his words. 

You settled into the seat across from him at the table, picking at the bowl of fruit before you. 

“You okay?” Jeno pretended not to know, wide eyed an innocent. He didn’t want to be the first to bring it up, of course he knew, everyone at the dorm did. 

You simply stared down at the table, fingers still picking anxiously at the bowl before you.

He nodded in silence, understanding that you didn’t want to talk about it.

“Did I tell you that Seol got stuck in a bin again?” He asked lightly, attempting to brighten the mood.

Your eyes widened as you looked up at him, a small smile rising over his features. 

“Again?”

He laughed, eyes turning into familiar half moons. “Yeah, I kept hearing this banging and I walked in to find the bin sliding across the floor.” He snorted, “She was underneath it and kept running into things.”

You giggled, just imagining the scene of a bin running around the room.

“Okay, but the fact remains that you said again. She’s done this before?” 

He almost looked embarrassed on her behalf, a slight nod giving you the answer.

You burst out laughing, “I’m sorry, that’s mean, but multiple times?” 

He joined in with you, happy that his little story could lift your mood again.

Renjun’s ears perked at the sound of footsteps accompanied by the flick of the hallway light. He rolled over, pulling the blankets over him slightly to appear as if he wasn’t eavesdropping.

But when the footsteps stopped, the door didn’t open. There was hushed voices on the other end, and he strained to hear the conversation. 

“Uh… I would show you that video, but I left my phone in my room.”

Was that… Jeno?

There was a slight pause, or perhaps he couldn’t hear you. 

“Would you like to see it though?” Renjun gritted his teeth, frowning at the offer.

“Yeah, can we? I don’t really want to go in there right now anyways.” You sucked in a breath, “We’re not exactly on great terms right now.”

Jeno took this quietly, nodding in the direction of his room, which you followed.

Renjun’s heart nearly stopped at the retreating footsteps, and then the lights faded. He sat up quickly, jaw clenched at what had just happened. 

It wasn’t too long later that the door did finally open, and you creaked silently into the room. You hesitated to slide under the blankets in your usual spot next to Renjun, but nevertheless you stuck to your side, leaving as much room between you two as possible.

Renjun’s hear ached at the notion that you would rather hang with limbs off the bed than get any closer to him. He peered under his lashes, raking the back of your figure. 

He felt agitated at the way that even your back seemed so sad. But that’s not what made his heart sink.

The sharp ding of your phone charm ringing with an incoming text. There was a shuffle of sheets as you reached to pick up the phone, glancing at the text you had just received from Jeno.

Like before, it was another another picture of the trio with a stupid joke below it. But it still had you giggling, and you quickly tried to muffle it with your hand. You typed something back, before shoving the glowing phone under your pillow.

But it wasn’t long after that when it buzzed again, the glowing light already spreading around the room. A moment later it was returned below your pillow and you rolled over pulling the blanket over your head.

“Who was that?” Your heart jumped out of your chest at the sound of your boyfriend beside you. 

“God Renjun, you scared me.” You breathed out, catching your breath from the scare. 

There was a quick intake of breath besides you. “Oh. Sorry.” He pressed cautiously, “So… who was that?”

You had come back to your senses and dug deeper into your pillow, “Jeno.”

Renjun wasn’t exactly satisfied with your answer, still anxious over what he had overheard. 

“Oh… why?” He trailed off, trying to come off as inconspicuous as possible, like he wasn’t prying.

But you were curt with your reply, “He has some stuff to say.”

The tension only rose at this, at which he mumbled under his breath, “I also have lots to say.”

It was silent for a while and you assumed that he had given up, choosing to succumb to sleep. But there was a soft rustling from beside you, and soon your phone rang.

Jeno could wait, it was too late for you to reply, and to be honest you couldn’t be bothered. Your mood was already falling fast. 

But again, it chimed. 

Blindly you reached for your phone, patting around in the dark until you felt the familiar block.

To your surprise, it was a text from Renjun.

Injunnie: Pls answer my texts

You did your best to hold back a giggle.

why?

Injunnie: i have lots to say

do you now?

Injunnie: im sorry

is that all?

Injunnie: and im stupid

?

Injunnie: and im begging for your forgiveness ??

are you sure? you don’t seem it

Injunnie: yes. i want nothing more than you to forgive me

Injunnie: istg that i didn’t miss it on purpose

Injunnie: if i could go back i would

read 1:28 am

Injunnie: i love you

You blushed at his words, smiling in the dark before letting your phone fall below the covers. 

Renjun’s heart skipped a beat at the motion, eyes wide and with panicked fingers he bombarded your phone with texts, soon filling the room with constant ringing.

You ignored them and instead chose to roll over and face him. You grinned at him, he was so focused on typing that he hadn’t even noticed. It was only after you snatched his phone away from him that he realized. 

Upon seeing the smile on your face, his relaxed, relieved at the sight.

Immediately his arms wrapped around you and pulled you into his chest, not giving you a chance to react.

He softly patted your head, mumbling sweet nothings and apologies into your ear. 

You pulled back locking eyes with him. 

“I’m sorry.”

Shaking your head, you just landed a soft kiss on his lips.

“I really am.”

“I know.” Another kiss.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

© Copyright 2021. hyuckssunchip. All rights reserved.

[confessionsof-a-writing-freak]

I Don't Wanna Be a Memory

Summary:

“Well, I’m not just your boss!”, Steve hears himself say, “I’m not just your boss. I’m also an omega. And I want you to tell me what to do. Your voice is like it’s permanently in alpha command, and I want you to fucking command me! Because I’m not just your boss. I’m not just an omega. I’m your fucking omega! And I can’t stand you saying my name like you’re seconds away from telling me to get down on my knees because you never do!

And it isn’t your fault! It’s not! You don’t want me anymore, and that’s fine, but my omega hasn’t forgotten, and my heart won’t forgive you for not loving me anymore. So stop. Stop saying my name like you still want me. Because every time you do, I feel like you’ve come back to me, but you haven’t- you won’t! And it’s killing me, Buck.”

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33385405

Rating: Explicit

Ship: James 'Bucky' Barnes/Steve Rogers

Additional tags: A/B/O Dynamics, Alpha bucky!, Omega Steve!

Bucky’s voice is the single most dangerous weapon he possesses.

Not the guns, or the knives, or even the years of government-issued muscle memory in hand-to-hand combat could compare the carnage that rubbles and quakes the earth when he says Steve's name.

“Stevie,” Low and silky. Full of authority-full of alpha. But still understanding the difference in rank despite the apparent superiority in designation. Never challenging or speaking down, but fuck did it make Steve want to sink to his knees and watch Bucky fall apart due to his mouth for a change.

“Steve?”

Okay, maybe not the entire earth, but Steve’s world sure feels like it’s been turned on its axis.

“...Steve.”

The worst part of it all is Bucky has no idea. No clue. No motivation! He simply exists and speaks like that with no intention of letting his voice get all severe and appetizing for the purpose of getting Steve’s omega excited for Bucky's alpha.

It’s especially distracting during missions.

Steve’s heart races, his conscious thought nowhere to be found as he conjures up impossible scenarios involving his reformed assassin best friend and naked cuddling.

The second they boarded the Quinjet, Steve had torn the earpiece away as if it had burned him.

Can you imagine leading a team or keeping them safe when every so often your second in command asks for your position, voice rough as he asks Steve for orders?!

Can anyone really blame him for getting lost in the phantom sensations of Bucky saying his name like a secret no one else deserves to know?

He didn’t think so.

That being said, all the control he can muster in order to actually complete a mission evaporates into the wind the moment the dance between life and death comes to a close; every suppressed, shameless fantasy unleashed and unforgiving as they consume his every thought.

Steve is abruptly pulled from his most recent daydream when a cool metal hand taps the back of his wrist twice, “You with us, Steve? I’ve been calling your name for a minute now.”

Quickly, Steve straightens his back and squares his shoulders, meeting stormy grey eyes.

“Sorry, Buck. Had a lot on my mind.”, He says with more confidence than he actually has.

It’s not really a lie. He does have a lot on his mind, all the ways he can find himself face down, ass up on the other man’s bed. Drooling and crying and breathing in Buckys scent with every breath he takes.

Of course, he can’t very well say that, can he?

He was lucky the S.H.I.E.L.D issued, super soldier approved suppressants made him nearly null. He can’t fathom the level of embarrassment that would claim him if Buck- or the whole damn plane for that matter- could scent the desperation, horny inside of him.

Bucky shifts closer, grey eyes softening the tiniest bit with concern, “Is everything alright?”

No.

“Yes, of course, “ He lies, “Just thinking about battle techniques is all. Scouts honor!” Steve makes an odd, incorrect gesture as a mock salute.

Bucky allows a small huff of air Steve recognizes as his poor imitation of a chuckle. There’s a moment of fuzzy pride that nearly causes Steve to purr; happy he brought a smile to the alpha’s face before his stomach drops clear down to his toes as murmured laughter rumbles too close to a growl in Buckys chest.

“My memory may be shit, Stevie, but I know for damn sure you weren’t no boy scout.”

Aaaand there it is.

Stevie.

Steves omega stirs and preens before the captain shoves them back down. Resenting the butterflies crying out in his belly and the urge to beg Bucky to just say his name over and over and over…

“Steve?”, This time, the concern isn’t quite as subtle, “Are you sure you’re alright, pal?” Bucky takes a step closer towards the blonde, drawing out skittish blue eyes, lowering his voice in case anyone was listening.

Again, the omega clears his throat and squares his shoulders.

“Did you want to tell me something, Sargent?”

Bucky opens his mouth, defiance dancing on his tastebuds before something makes him snap it shut, offering a curt nod, “Yes, Captain.” His voice strained, everything he wants to say lodged in his throat.

“I just wanted to let you know that we should be landing in less than 15 minutes.”

Like before, Bucky opens his mouth to say something but thinks better of it. Choosing instead to take a seat beside his captain, slipping his arms through the provided harness. He gives Steve a pointed look, “We should probably buckle up.”

For a moment, Steve is taken back to the war. When his body was just beginning to react to the serum and the increased suppressants. (The government had taken every percussion necessary to ensure the public wouldn’t know Captain America was an omega.)

After Steve became ‘big’ and outranked Bucky in the military, the brunette never did anything but follow him into the fire. Loyal and boundless. Never questioning his strategies or actions unless it put him in direct danger. That didn’t mean he could keep himself from telling Steve what to do. He just found different ways to do it.

Suggesting tasks, like putting on seatbelts, for instance. Strapping extra weapons to his ankles before handing one to Steve and forcing it into his hands even when the blonde would roll his eyes, whispering his disapproval so only he would hear.

Never raising his voice or permitting his tone to deepen or his scent to take on that spicy, electric feel that never failed to make Steve bare his neck. Never stepping out of line. Never disrespecting or demeaning Steves title. Always in charge anyway.

Bucky doesn’t utter a single command or request, but Steve buckles up anyhow. Drinking in the small, hardly there smile that Bucky offers to the air in front of him, not even meeting Steve’s gaze. And the omega hates the happiness, the relief he feels at satisfying Bucky.

Hates that Bucky doesn’t even have to tell him what to do for him to obey. Hates that he has to obey, even though Bucky doesn’t need him to anymore.

He doesn’t need him anymore...

Bucky still hasn’t said a word when they land, but it’s not like Steve gave him much of an opportunity.

Things have been strained between them since Steve began pulling away. Avoiding Bucky’s calls and limiting their time together.

It was just easier that way. Miserable and lonely, but easier.

The moment the Quinjet is stationary, the supersoldier is up on his feet and stomping down the runway, leaving the Avengers and Bucky behind him.

He needs to breathe.

He can’t breathe!

If he didn’t know any better, he would say he was having an asthma attack. It feels like an asthma attack.

Steve’s eyes sting with unshed tears, taking large gulps of air into his lungs, and it burns!

He arrives at his door by the grace of God, not remembering entering the tower or if he passed anyone on his way.

“Jarvis. Door.” He gasps. Actual fear starting to seep into his bones.

“Yes, Captain Rogers,” The AI responds, the oversized steel doors swinging open.

Distantly, Steve hears the door shut behind him and feels himself settle against a wall. He pushes his back against the surface and tries to even out his breathing. Revisiting everything he can remember about how to resolve an asthma attack.

After several attempts, he stumbles into a somewhat consistent breathing pattern, his chest heaving at a slower rate.

In through the nose. Out through the mouth. In through the nose. Out through the mouth. In through the nose…

It’s not working!

Steve’s heartbeat only hammers against his chest and neck quicker, his breathing sharply turning back into hyperventilation.

It’s then that he realizes he isn’t having an asthma attack at all. He’s having a panic attack.

Fuck, Fuck, Fuck.

In through the nose. Out through the mouth. InthroughthenoseOutthroughthemouth.

Why isn’t this working!?

The blonde clenches his eyes shut, a sob fighting its way past trembling lips. He feels so alone. So unwanted, Unwarranted.

He thinks back to the 40s- back to him and Bucky. After the serum, during the war. Hidden behind the cover of night and an abandoned building at the far end of Base. The first time since the change, his heart felt like it would crawl its way up Steves throat and swan dive right off his tongue.

Struggling to ease the fogginess in his mind, Steve remembers strong arms wrapped around his waist. Cool metal poking his nose as he bumped Bucky’s dog tags with each of his movements, scenting warm flesh.

Bucky’s voice is rumbling demands, his voice leaving no room for argument while every word was also laced with patience and love. Scent projecting love, understanding, I’m here, you’re safe.

“In through your nose. Out through your mouth. In through your nose. Out through your mouth.”

He repeats the mantra until Steve’s Omega obeyed his alpha, sucking in lung fulls of oxygen and releasing it in time with Buckys orders.

The memory of bombs and gunshots lost behind the sound of Bucky’s voice.

In through your nose. Out through your mouth. In through your nose. Out through your mouth.

He conjures up the memory of Buckys voice, coated in alpha command, urging him to breathe evenly. Fingers digging into Steve’s flushed skin, grounding him.

His alpha always knows what he needs...

Steve misses him.

Misses more than just the raw irrefutable attraction that got them into more trouble than it should have growing up. But he misses the rest of him too.

Misses the smirks and the long nights dreaming of what the future would bring. He misses Bucky’s laugh. God, he can hardly remember what it sounds like now.

Steve misses the way he would kiss. Gently. Chaste. Rough. Long. Kiss him in private and kiss him places that weren’t safe. On the stoop in front of their apartment, before the sun would come up and wandering eyes could catch them. Or alone in their bedroom, lips starting on his eyelids, across purple bruises, then down to his chest. Swallowing the omega’s moans and grinning into his mouth before settling beside him and chuckling deep into his ear, the last thing Steve would hear before sleep would overcome him. He misses the way Bucky would say his name like a prayer, wrap his lips around every letter like a caress, eyes sparkling with their love.

He misses knowing he’ll never be alone.

His heart thunders in his ears, chest feeling seconds away from crumbling in on itself as he thinks maybe it was easier when he believed the alpha was dead. Before he found out Bucky was alive, he mourned the man who loved him. Now, he grieves the love he’s lost. The alpha- his alpha-standing beside him without an ounce of affection or desire in his eyes.

Bucky wasn’t mourning the loss of Steve because he didn’t want Steve. Not anymore.

He clearly remembered enough. He may remember it all. However, knowing didn’t mean he had any intention of returning to what they had.

But even if every memory was gone, if the omega mattered at all, Bucky would remember him- his soul! If Steve himself were robbed of his past and they were just meeting again for the first time, he knew his soul would remember Buckys. Would want to know him all over, not needing to understand why!

The tears are falling before Steve has the chance to notice. A jagged whine barreling past his lips. All the weight of devastation and loneliness finally falling onto his shoulders.

Bucky had met him again. But he didn’t need him the same. Didn’t know his Omega; he didn’t want his heart.

Steve slumps further against the wall, blonde hair drenched in sweat, hands clawing at his chest, trying fruitlessly to manage his racing heart.

Closing his eyes, the omega summons an image of Bucky smiling reassuringly, soothing him as he tells him what to do.

In through your nose. Out through your mouth. In through your nose. Out through your mouth.

Okay… okay. That’s better.

“It hurts to think of you,” The omega confesses to no one, the tears running past his chin onto his suit. But I need you, “And I can’t breathe without you.”

“In through your nose. Out through your mouth. In through your nose. Out through your mouth. I’ve got you, Stevie. In and out. That’s it. In through your nose. Out through your mouth.”

Steve allows himself to sink deeper into his fantasy, swearing he could actually feel Bucky's hands running down his back and through his hair.

“I’ve got you, Stevie.”

It’s the last thing Steve hears before he passes out.

***

Steve is warm.

Steve’s bed has always been too soft, even after Sam suggested a firmer mattress. While helpful, he still couldn’t manage anything better than a fitful half-sleep most nights. He knew why, but in an effort to avoid further misery, he chooses not to dwell too much on that matter.

Aside from the too-soft mattress and the alpha missing from his bed, the omega was never warm enough. He shivered and reached out for body heat too far from his reach. But…

Steve is warm...

For a moment, he swears arms are around him.

And for a moment, he doesn’t care who they belong to. Because he isn’t shivering, for once. Isn’t suffering through another cold sweat, and the omega constantly pacing within him is actually settled. He hasn’t been this comfortable since the previous century, so whoever the hell is beside him can very well stay where they are, as long as he can keep this feeling.

It’s with another breath, he feels consciousness slowly creep up on him.

He almost laughs at the thought of being comfortable in anyone else’s arms. Of course, Bucky should have been his first thought, but honestly, at this point, Bucky willingly in his bed was a cruel dream.

Bucky must be using the same blockers Steve does. His Omega can’t scent him even this close, but who else’s arms fit so perfectly around him?

It’s the closest they’ve been at all since rescuing Bucky from Hydra, and Steve hated it as much as he loved it.

He wants to go back to sleep. Wants to bask in the warmth Bucky offers and pretend they’re back in their tiny apartment in Brooklyn. Struggling to make ends meet and unplagued by the horrors of war. Hidden from the world behind wilting wallpaper, sharing sweet kisses and bruising grips.

But this isn’t 1939. Bucky doesn’t share his bed...or his affections.

He would give anything to go back. He’d give anything to have his alpha again.

“I didn’t know you still had panic attacks.”, of course, Bucky noticed he wasn’t asleep anymore.

Steve feels him shift away, the arm around his waist, already feather-light, hardly there.

The omega within him whines, not wanting him to pull away. No, he wants him to climb on top of him. To drop all of his weight onto Steve’s hopeless body, make him stay in place. Unable to move until Bucky tells him he can...

Steve clenches his eyes tightly, suppressing his every unrelenting instinct from manifesting into something that will only push Bucky further away. And he needs him. Steve needs him, even if it is killing him.

“Yeah, well, there’s a lot you don’t know about, Buck.”, the omega remarks, his back still firmly pressed to Bucky’s chest.

Bucky may be ready to move, but Steve certainly isn’t. It’s not like the Alpha will say anything. Steve is far from perfect, despite whatever bullshit the news wants to feed the public. Steve is flawed and can be as selfish as anyone else. There are times where he permits his gaze to linger longer than it should, hands lazily pulling back when they should’ve never left his side, to begin with, or say Buckys name in the dead of night, surrounded by nothing but darkness and the sticky evidence of his spent weaknesses.

In private or in front of the alpha, Steve has toed the line of what is appropriate between friends and behavior shared between lovers.

Bucky has never reacted to any of it. Robotic and perfect all at once. His responses are exactly what they’re supposed to be, feeling false all the same.

Never contesting. Never reacting. As if Steve doesn’t ache for him.

It’s then that the confusion begins to twist at the recess of the omega’s mind.

“Why are you in my bed, Buck?” And how can I keep you here?

There’s a beat of silence, Bucky’s breath even beside Steve’s ear. It almost feels rehearsed, as if Bucky is concentrating on his breathing. Steve shakes the thought away before he can fool himself for the millionth time something is there that has proven again and again to be long ago dead.

“I was worried about you,” Bucky eventually admits, the arm just barely resting on Steve’s hip returning to its previous pressure, fingers hot and electrifying as they accidentally meet bare flesh peeking beneath Steve’s sleep shirt.

Sleep shirt?

“Did you change my clothes?” Steve says without thinking, saying anything to stop himself from moaning. He can’t remember the last time Buckys hands were this close to his body without explosions and frantic shouts playing in the background.

He turns his neck enough to meet Bucky’s clouded grey gaze.

A gasp falls from his lips instinctively, his own eyes widening on their own accord, taking in the receding blood red only just beginning to fade from the alpha’s eyes.

Just like that, Bucky is removing his arm entirely, releasing the Omega and taking all of that delicious warmth with him.

Bucky stays on the bed, though. His back resting against the headboard.

Steve just narrowly stops himself from shouting, ‘No! Stay, please!’, his heart pounding in his ears and his hands burning with the desire to reach out and drag the other man in.

Instead, he swallows his cries and urges his weary muscles into a sitting position, facing away from the former assassin.

While Steve was changed into something more comfortable than his uniform, the omega notices Bucky remains in his clunky tactical gear, down to his boots.

He had no intention of staying, Rogers. Take deep breaths, and give him an out.

He just needs to go.

The blonde is good at pretending. Well, most days anyway, he can fake a smile when the world is falling apart; he can pretend to be happy. But what he can’t seem to do anymore is pretend that he isn’t painfully in love with the man currently sitting on his bed, not a single reminisce of what they once were hanging between them.

He can’t manage a smile or a whisper of optimism when everything good has been taken from him. He knows what’s expected of him, but there are days when the sorrow is crippling, and he feels weaker than he ever did as that little guy from Brooklyn.

Clearly, no more talking is going to happen. And Steve isn’t emotionally stable enough right now to act as if he doesn’t want the alpha to bathe him in his scent, forcing the lingering panic, unwell, lonely away.

He moves to stand when,

“Rest.”

The order is sharp and certainly unintentional.

The shiver that races down Steve’s spine is violent, and his body locks up, ready to obey.

Turning his neck again, Steve catches the profile of the alphas annoyingly handsome face. His eyes are closed, brow pinched in concentration.

Steve stands slowly, hands shaking. It’s sickening how dreadfully good that single word made him feel. Floaty and sated. His blood, always raging, rushing, and crying out, settles within him, preparing to be taken care of.

The logical part of him reminds the omega they’ve been here before. Bucky will do something so woefully familiar, he dilutes himself into thinking he’s still wanted.

It’s never the case.

Steve keeps the hope from his tone when he challenges, “Excuse me?” Waiting for another command with bated breath.

“You should probably rest, Cap,” Bucky folds his arms across his broad chest, still ignoring Steve’s previous question as well as his gaze.

Forcing a smirk that makes him want to throw up, Steve teases, “Are you avoiding my question, Sargent?”

“Steve,” Bucky objects, voice chastizing.

Something uneasy burrows into Steve’s stomach, his body rejecting the discontent emanating off Bucky's skin.

He shrugs away the urge to whine, instead offering an ingenuine chuckle, “Jeez, I’m fine. Why so serious, Buck?”

Bucky stands, eyes hard, glaring right into Steve’s soul. The blonde sucks in a harsh breath, his fingers tingling and breath shallow.

Bucky’s eyes are red.

“Why so serious? “ The alpha growls, not moving from his spot beside Steve’s bed. The distance separating them not making sense in contrast to the intimate edge heavy in the air. It would be comical if not for the current sparking the negative space.

“We’re just gonna pretend like I didn’t find you seconds from passing out less than an hour ago? Is that something casual, am I supposed to just ignore it?”

Steve’s plastic smile fades, a tired expression painting his sharp features, “Yes. That’s exactly what you’re supposed to do.” He sighs, scrubbing his face in frustration, “Ignore it. Like you ignore everything else, Bucky...Just go.”

“What’s tha ‘posed to mean?”

“It means I’m sorry you had to see that, but you don’t have to worry about it.”

“See what? You being irresponsible?”

The thin scrap of patience the omega has evaporates; actually, it burns the fuck up, raging as loud as Steve’s fury, “Irresponsible!?”

The anger shoots through Steve like a wildfire, his temperature rising and his hands balling into fists. If the Alpha didn’t know any better, he’d think Steve was going to punch him.

Even so, he doesn’t back down. Instead, he takes a single step towards the blonde, body tight and rigid. Voice booming when he sneers, “Yes, goddamn it! Irresponsible.”

“Fuck you, Bucky!” Steve shouts, “Who the hell are you to lecture me on being irresponsible?”

“I’m your… I’m your second in command, and if you were struggling with PTSD, you should have told me something! Instead of me following you to your rooms and basically threatening Jarvis into letting me in. You were pale, Steve. Snow White ain’t got shit on how you looked- you were nearly blue! And I’m sorry for stepping in. We can blame it on your biology, but you finally managed to relax when my alpha came forward. It’s irresponsible to let yourself get to that point when you could have come to me- or, or anyone in the avengers for help.”

“You’re sorry,” Steve scoffs, “ You’re sorry you had to help me.”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

“Oh, but it’s what you said, isn’t it?” The Omega is nearly in hysterics. Half sad laughs, the only thing keeping him from crying.

“Steve...”

Buckys voice is now soaked in concern, the anger lost behind wisps of worried seeping from his concealed scent. Which serves only to break Steve further.

“Stevie.” Bucky repeats, wondering if Steve was spiraling into another panic attack.

He is only two steps away from him in a second, twitching, never touching but always close.

Steve feels another shock rack his entire body. His name falling from Bucky’s lips so effortlessly. The authority he holds swallowing every syllable. The sheer force of it nearly brings the omega to his knees.

Steve's heart pounds against his chest, like his heart is trying to escape. Running both hands across his face, then over tufts of blonde hair, his hands meeting behind his neck craned up towards the sky. Praying to anyone up there with mercy that Bucky will just leave. He keeps his arms where they arm before he can do something stupid like reach out.

“Bucky, why are you so concerned about it?” Steve’s eyes are still trained to the ceiling.

Steve knows he’s playing with fire. Playing with his own emotions, but sometimes he can swear he lives for it.

Bucky hesitates, watching Steve with careful eyes. “Because…You are our Captain and my best friend. If you need help, I am going to help you.”

The finality in his tone almost sounds like an alpha command, but his words contradict any sense of attraction or desire.

Another huff, gaze and arms dropping, “I’ll be fine once you leave.” Steve counters, harsher than he intended.

But fuck if he cares. Bucky doesn’t want him. He deserves to be a little angry. If he can’t grieve him, he can at least have this!

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing!” He snaps, “Just leave, James.”

“James? Oh, I’m James now?”

Steve could care less if he’s hurt his feelings. He’s had enough. His heart hurts, and his head aches. He is done playing this ‘I’m okay with everything’ game.

He is not okay with this, Dammit!

His heart is broken. Shattered. Irreplaceable. And he’s just supposed to be okay with that? He’s supposed to be Bucky’s friend and make jokes and smile when he is dying inside? Crying for his alpha- for stability when he feels like his whole world has been rocked?

Well, he’s had enough. He’s behaved for 2 years. He’s done!

Clenching blue eyes shut, Steve feels every carefully constructed wall of deception crumple at their feet.

“I don’t have time for this. Just leave so that I can breathe! I can’t breathe with you here!”

“Stevie…”

“Please,” the omega whimpers, all the fight leaving his body, long pale fingers running through sleep tousled hair, pulling at the roots, “Just stop.”

“Stop what? I can’t stop doing something if I don’t know what it is I’m doing!”

It’s Bucky’s turn to be panicked. In two strides, he’s in front of Steve, feeling the alarm creep up his chest, a flash of something sharpening eerie grey.

“Steve! Answer m-” Bucky lifts his hands as if to reach out for the other man but catches himself before metal could find flesh, “Will you tell me what I am doing wrong?”

Steve wants to cry and scream and rip that stupid mental arm out of its socket just so he can slap Bucky with it.

“Stop!” He repeats desperately, “Just stop! Stop saying my name! Stop talking to me like-like…”

“Like what!?”

Taking a calming breath, Steve forces himself to meet the alpha’s eyes, “Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to give you orders and never receive a protest in return?”

There’s a beat of silence accompanied by a blank expression. Steves heart shouting in his chest.

“...What?”

Steve continues, “Telling you what to do and how to do it. At least before you would fight me, yell at me. Make it easier to breathe.”

“Steve, what the fuck are you talkin’ about? You’re my boss. I’m s’posed ta take orders from ya.” Steve just about weeps when the Brooklyn accent begins to peek through, just as it usually does when Bucky is confused.

“Well, I’m not just your boss!”, Steve hears himself say, “I’m not just your boss. I’m also an omega. And I want you to tell me what to do. Your voice is like it’s permanently in alpha command, and I want you to fucking command me! Because I’m not just your boss. I’m not just an omega. I’m your fucking omega! And I can’t stand you saying my name like your seconds away from telling me to get down on my knees because you never do! And it isn’t your fault! It’s not! You don’t want me anymore, and that’s fine, but my omega hasn’t forgotten, and my heart won’t forgive you for not loving me anymore. So stop. Stop saying my name like you still want me. Because every time you do, for precisely one second, I feel like you’ve come back to me, but you haven’t- you won’t! And it’s killing me, Buck.”

Steve’s eyes are misted with tears, his chest heaving and skin flushed with embarrassment and shame, “Please… Just don’t say my name, or I’m just gonna break.”

The words pour from his lips, and he wants to disappear. He wishes the ground would just swallow him whole and save him from Bucky’s response.

Steve trembles beneath stormy grey, choosing instead to watch the ground. His omega whining and clawing at the back of his mind.

“I can’t do this anymore, Bucky.” He murmurs, waiting for the outrage or worse; the indifference-the clunk of footsteps walking away from the mess he’s made. The life they had. The man he no longer loves.

Steve hasn’t found his eyes again. Won’t move his head. He doesn’t care how submissive it makes him look because he’s spent most of his life searching for steel grey eyes in crowds and across rooms. Seeking them out in the dark, the only beacon of light he would see most days. And now… Now those eyes that kept him so safe when the world was crumbling around them made him feel like winter on a summer day, cold and alone, only seconds from melting into nothing.

He’s not sure how much time passes without a word between them. He waits another moment before surrendering a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, shaking his head and turning to leave.

He didn’t know where he was going, but he couldn’t stay here.

Like lightning, Bucky’s right hand snaps forward, catching the omega’s wrist before he can make it far, and just like electricity, a jolt of fire scorches where their skin meets.

As one would an old friend, Steve invites the sensation to consume him, feeling every nerve respond to Bucky, it’s like he was brought back to life, and he wants nothing more than to cry because he knows it won’t last. He knows as soon as the alpha lets go, he’ll return to reality as only half a man. Something-someone always missing from him.

“Steve.”, his breath hitches, and his hands shake. A whisper of a scent he’s all but forgotten seeps into the room, but it’s gone before Steve can determine if it’s only a memory.

Steve’s name rolls off of Bucky’s tongue too easily. Too pretty. Too dark. Too much!

Jesus!

Hadn’t he been clear enough the first fucking time? How else exactly was he supposed to phrase it; ‘Don’t say my name, or I’ll break from how horny it makes me?’

“Steve,” The alpha repeats.

Steve feels another pang of electricity shoot to his fingertips, itching with the need to just touch, “Bucky, I think you should leave.”

He doesn’t want him to. But when was the last time Steve got what he wanted.

“Now,” He adds after another second passes. Bucky's feet were firmly placed on the ground, not a single muscle prepared to even twitch.

The room is blanketed in heavy silence before, “No.”

Steve feels as if the wind has been knocked out of him. His lips part in surprise, brow furrowed as his heart begins to pick up the pace.

“Excuse me?”

“I hate that I can’t scent you,” The alpha announces, talking slow, calculated steps forward, eradicating any space brave enough to separate them,

“I hate that I can’t tell where you are during missions.” Suddenly Bucky’s grip loosens, yet it doesn’t move far. He runs his hand up Steve’s forearm, fingertips dragging across perfect porcelain skin, not stopping until the palm of his flesh hand rests on Steve’s neck.

“I picture what it would feel like to sink my teeth into your neck and keep you there, with my fangs in your flesh, drawing blood from your skin and moans from your lips. I dream of you whimpering, “ He whispers harshly, eyes trained to Steve’s neck.

The omega’s eyes flutter closed, lips trembling around the alpha’s name, “Bucky,”

Ignoring the blonde, the other man continues, not quite done yet, “I defend those thoughts by saying to myself, it’s all so that I can feel you. So I can feel where you are when we’re in the field. So I won’t worry as much, won’t get distracted. But I know it’s just half of it. I know I want to tell you to take those damn blockers off. To wash it away, or let me lick it away with my tongue-whichever came first.”

“I hate that I want to fall asleep with you curled above my chest because you’ll be warmer that way. And for whatever reason, I remember you always being cold before bed. I want to demand you buckle up and wear extra layers. I want you to fight me a little. I want you to tell me to shut up but get all soft when I give you a hard look. Like, you are now, with my chest touching yours, hands at your neck and waist. Your heart stuttering against me. I want you to tease me because you want me to get annoyed so that I tell you to shut your mouth and put it to good use. I hate that I want to do all these things, but I can’t. Because you don’t want me to...”

Blue pop open, held hostage by grey. Bucky is everywhere. His face is so close Steve can feel every breath the alpha takes fan over his eyelashes. His eyes tracking over the curve of pink lips and soft skin. Left arm curled around Steve’s waist, metal grip unmoving. His other hand still firmly placed over his scent gland, Bucky’s long fingers spread over the column of flesh, thumb running back and forth along the length of it, causing goosebumps to follow his trail of fire.

Steve moans at the sensation, baring his neck so Bucky has the access he would need. His legs nearly giving out beneath him, but the arm at his waist won’t let him fall.

“Are you telling me that you want me to?” Bucky presses. His voice is sharp and promising. The hand around Steve’s neck, a light pressure the omega finds himself pushing into.

“Steve! Look at me. Look at me, omega.”

The blonde hadn’t noticed his eyes fluttering shut again, the sensation of being held, of having so much alpha- his alpha right there in front of him. Soaking him in his scent. Not a true claim or even a scent mark, but this is more than he ever thought he would ever get again.

Bucky’s words have barely registered for the omega; he lost the ability to comprehend English the instant Buckys hands found his body. But he reacts to the order, all the same, seeing the steely, beautiful grey (beginning to tint red again) he has known since he was a boy.

Slowly, so slowly, Steve begins to piece together the things Bucky has confessed, his eyes once more welling with tears.

Patiently, Bucky waits for the understanding to reflect in sapphire eyes, speaking only when he knows the omega can now retain information.

“Are you telling me you want me to touch you, Stevie?” Bucky murmurs, staring at Steve’s bottom lip.

“Yes,” He breathes, just barely audible without an ounce of hesitation.

The next thing Steve knew, Bucky had him against a wall. His nose buried in his neck and his hands rounding his ass, using his shoulders to pin Steve to the wall and lift his legs until the omega joined the program and wrapped his legs around Bucky’s waist. Bucky’s hardening cock pushing into his hip.

“Oh shit, Buck!”

“ I have to say your name,” Bucky growls, grinding into his omega.

“As much as I can, even if it doesn’t work in the conversation, because it’s the closest I can get you in my mouth. It tastes like heaven, and memories I can’t decipher are real or just fantasy they- Oh, fuck baby. Yeah, Stevie- They don’t compare to this- Keep moving, just like that, babydoll.”

Steve ruts against Buckys friction, his eyes closed tightly, whatever was left of their blockers bleeding out, replacing the neutral aroma in the room with their combined scents, desperation, and slick.

“God, Bucky. I missed you so much. I’ve been so alone.”

Buckys mouth finds Steve’s trembling lips, nothing subtle or slow about his movements. The alpha’s tongue swallows the moans tumbling past Steve’s lips. Hands gripping his waist tighter.

The sun bursts behind their eyes. Blood rushing and hearts bumping to twice their regular speed. For different people, people who aren’t Steve and Bucky, a first kiss after so long should probably be slow and tentative, something soft and building. But they aren’t different people. They are too broken and too powerful and undeniably deserving people who have had nothing to count on besides one another their entire conscious lives. To entertain even a second of not indulging in hard, fast, desperate supersedes unthinkable and settles somewhere over cruel.

“Never again, Stevie. I ain’t leaving you alone” another thrust, “Ever, “ another bruising kiss, “Again.”

Bucky’s cock strains against his uniform, desperate for Steve’s hole. Steve is a withering whimpering mess, drunk on Buckys scent and high on all the delicious friction causing his weeping cunt to flutter, uncomfortably empty.

After several more minutes of making out, Bucky moves them back to the bed, lying Steve out on the mattress. He only has a fraction of a second to admire the work of art that is Steve Rogers sprawled out and waiting to be fucked when Steve’s hands are at his neck, pulling him back in.

His lips move against the alpha’s sloppily, sucking on his bottom lip until the ex-assassin growls impatiently, searching for his mate’s tongue. His mate…

His mate. Steve thinks he may cry as the sheer relief almost painfully washes over him. All of the uncertainty and shame of being unwanted melts away, and all that surrounds him is the vibrating want, mine, love, love, love from the man above him, trailing scorching hot kisses down his neck.

“I wanna be ‘side you, baby. Please, Steve. Let me, ugh, please, babydoll. Can I-”

“Yes!” steve interrupts, “Yes, Alpha, you never have to ask! I’ll do whatever you ask, oh just touch me, Bucky, alpha, my alpha, touch me-”

“Shh, “ Bucky chuckles, stopping the omega’s rambling. He runs his flesh hand through disheveled blonde hair, dragging his nails through Steve’s scalp and marveling at the hiss the omega releases, “I’ve got you, Stevie. All I needed was a lil consent, then all bets are off, aren’t they? ‘Cause you’re mine now, aren’t you, baby?”

“Always have been, jerk. I never stopped.”

“Good. Now, stop touching me.”

With a whimper, Steve can’t stop his hands from frantically clawing every inch of Bucky he can access.

“Now, babydoll, don’t you wanna be good for me?”

Still clutching one hand around Bucky's thick, muscular biceps, the other pulling at the strands of dark brown hair helplessly, “I can be good,” the omega babbles, “I’ll be good, Alpha. So good, I can be good, so so good. Please-”

“ Then listen to what I am telling you. I won’t repeat myself again, Steve. It’s my turn now. I wanna get my mouth on you, and I can’t do that if you keep pullin’ me back up to kiss. So stop touching.”

The moan that stutters past Steve’s lips would be embarrassing if not for how fucking fantastic it feels for Bucky’s alpha command to slam into him. Paralyzing him in place. Hands falling unceremoniously at his sides.

Crystal blues brimming with tears, he feels safe for the first time since coming out of the ice- he feels familiar. Not somewhere foreign with no understanding of anything besides, fight this, kill that. This is different. This is them. This is intimacy- their intimacy.

There’s trust swimming within the negative spaces Bucky extends, and he knows, to his core, he can let go. Steve surrenders all his false smiles and exhausting positivity. This is home. Bucky is home. He doesn’t have to put up a front because his alpha has it handled.

Steve isn’t Captain America or some beacon of hope. He’s just Steve, Stevie. Bucky's Omega.

He’s unsure how much time passes or where it went, to begin with, but his body sinks deeper into his mattress, feeling entirely boneless.

“You okay, baby?” Bucky’s husky voice breaks through the fog, “I lost you for a second there.”

Steve feels himself come back, callused hands running through damp blonde hair.

“Mmm,” he hums.

“You spaced a little, Stevie. You’re so beautiful when you get all soft for me. But you’re back now, aren’t you? Look at you. So perfect. Pretty, perfect omega-mine. Kept your hands at your side the whole time too. Such a good boy. You’re gonna keep your hands right where they are, Stevie. Don’t you move a fucking inch. I’m going to lick you open now, babydoll. And you’re gonna come on my tongue as many times as I want you to. Because I’ve gone 70 years without you, and I’m goddamned starved” Bucky’s voice goes from soft praise to near feral growls. His voice sending nothing but jolts of electricity down Steve’s spine, another wave of slick slipping down his thighs.

Before the ‘please’ has the opportunity to touch Steve's mouth, Bucky's hot, slick tongue finds his pulse point, just mere inches from his mating gland.

“Bucky!”

“I want this off!”, The ex-assassin grunts, in one swift move yanking the crisp white shirt from Steve's chest.

“Oh!”

Bucky backs up to lean on his knees, eyes tracking over pinkening skin. Steve’s own gaze glides over now exposed skin. Steve tries to finger out when he removed his clothes but falls short.

After so long without Buckys tenderly harsh commands, falling into space came a little easier than he would have thought. Overwhelmed by the unanticipated satisfaction.

“Open your eyes.”

When had Steve closed his eyes again?

“There you are, dolly. Keep those pretty eyes on me, okay? Always on me, baby.”

Rough, mouthwateringly calloused hands find the waistband of Steve’s pants and yank down in one fluid motion.

The blonde hisses for a moment at the sudden cold air biting his skin, but it only lasts a moment before he’s screaming.

“Fuck!” Steve throws his head back in favor of making sounds even a prostitute would blush at.

One moment Bucky’s on his knees, eyes predatory and sinful, calculating all the things he could do to the man shivering beneath his gaze, the next finds him throat deep, swallowing down Steve’s sweet omega cock, slurping up his precum and getting high off the scent of slick so close to his nose.

Steve can’t breathe.

God! It’s too much. It’s so good. It’s too good!

Steve can feel the familiar pull of an orgasm tugging inside of him. The corners of his closed vision whitening out around the black, lacking the energy to even feel embarrassed by how quickly he’s reached his pinnacle.

Pulling off agonizingly slow, Bucky lets his tongue harshly lick along Steve’s little shaft and twirl over his tip, remembering- fucking remembering! All the sounds and glazed looks elicited from the man below him in the past.

Grey eyes flick up hungrily, ravenous for a look into perfect crystal eyes; he can remember the glazed debauched expression that could devour Steve’s pupils, but it’s not enough!

He wants the real thing.

He wants something tangible and alive in his hands he can never again confuse with desire. Something he’s sure happened, a gift Steve is willingly offering instead of a snarled half-memory he can’t allow himself to believe.

“I-ugh! I’m gonna-“Steve stutters, toes curling and knees bending, framing Bucky's face between his thighs. His hands twitch beside him, but he doesn’t dare move them.

“Oh!”

It should have been a cry of ecstasy.

Should have been the Yellow River Flood; relentless and relieving. No survivors.

Instead, Steve is left with his chest heaving violently. Gasping for air just as he did when he was small.

The omega hears Bucky tutting before he manages to pry his eyes open. Immediately recognizing his mistake before the words fall from cum slick lips.

“Oh, baby. You were doing so good.”

“Nno! Buck, please!”

“Shhh, What did I say, dolly?” Bucky replaces his mouth with one strong hand, lazily jerking at Steve’s straining cock.

He’s smirking when Steve hisses beneath him and hums in approval when his hands stay at his sides.

“F-Faster! Please, Buck! Goddamn it, stop teasing’ me.”

“What did I say, Stevie?” Bucky repeats sharply. His movements slowing further.

Steve’s omega cries.

“You wanna cum, baby doll? “

“Yes!”

“Then what do you have to do?“

Steve’s mind has gone to mush. He thrusts his hips up, chasing after Bucky's friction. Hands struggling against the bedsheets.

“Still, omega!”

Bucky's voice is rough as sandpaper, sounding as on edge as Steve feels. A firm metal hand presses into the omega’s hip holding him in place.

“Be good, Stevie.” The alpha asserts firmly, scent growing muskier with every heavenly noise gasped and groaned from Steve’s sinful lips.

“If you wanna cum, what is it you have to do?”

Bucky rubs a metal thumb soothingly over a sinfully sharp hip bone before trailing his fingers over Steve’s quivering thigh.

Grey eyes nearly roll into the back of his head, “Fuck, baby, you’re so soft. C’mon, don’t you want me to touch you?”

“Yes! Please, fuckin touch me, you jerk!”

Chuckling darkly to himself, Bucky watches Steve with bated breath, and all at once, he feels like his mind had never left. Like an addict, he was never over his addiction; he just forgot how good it was. And like the degenerate addict he apparently was, he sucks in deep breaths, sucking in as much of Steve’s aroused scent that his lungs can handle.

All it took was one hit of Steve- his omega- and he had fallen into himself, more of who he was than any memory had offered.

Steve is his clarity and his habit. The one thing that will always bring him back because Steve is home.

And he’s gonna make him feel good. He’s gonna make up for all he put his omega through, and he’s gonna enjoy every second of it.

Every moan, every shiver, every cry. He’s gonna hold him and bruise him because Steve is his, and that’s how the omega likes it. Bucky’s omega. Bucky's Sweetheart. Bucky’s mate.

The ex-assassin lets his fingers trail lower, his other hand still just barely moving over Steve’s pulsing cock.

The first touch of cool metal meeting Steve’s hole causes the blonde to nearly jump off the bed.

“Buck!”

Steve thinks he’s gonna die.

He feels every cell in his body vibrating with a hot, hopeless sensation. Slick pours out of him the second Bucky’s teasing, perfect, godforsaken pinky circles Steve’s core. His lungs and eyes are burning, nearly out of breath, and only capable of volunteering a broken sob when that fucking pinky just barely pushes in.

“Please,” he whispers jaggedly.

He’ll be good for bucky. He’ll keep his hands at his side. He’ll do what he says even without the command, the fogginess of his brain settling deep enough that any request will register as a command anyway.

That’s just how Steve is wired.

Designed to submit to Buck’s direction.

He knows what Bucky wants, but to physically pry his eyes open at that moment was easier said than done. He struggled to determine whether or not he’s trying to starve off a quickly approaching orgasm or trying to chase one.

Whatever the answer, Bucky doesn’t let him reach it.

The alpha’s dark, whiskey voice sounds as wrecked as Steve feels.

“What. Do. I. Want?” Bucky growls impatiently. Another wave of slick dribbles from the omega wetting the sheets beneath them.

Think, steve! Give alpha what he wants! You can be good. I can be good…. What does he want again?

“My…ugh! M-My eyes.”

Finally, fucking finally, Bucky pushes a finger into Steve’s hole. Fast and absolutely delicious.

Just when he thought Bucky would stop playing games, he realizes the ringing in his ears is replaced by the alpha tutting above him.

“Very close, baby, but not quite.”, Buckys finger starts to draw out slowly; what little fullness Steve has is threatened, and the distressed mewl Steve makes in protest causes the alpha to chuckle darkly.

“P-pretty! Keep my pretty eyes on you! Only on you!” his eyes snap open frenzied, finding a swirl of grey and red zeroed in on him.

In a millisecond, Steve has two metal fingers thrusting into his hole. His back arches on the mattress, fingers nearly numb as they grip the sheets tighter, but his eyes don’t close again.

“That’s right, baby. Only on me.”

“Oh! Yes!”

“Fuck! You’re so tight, Stevie.”, Bucky groans, lowering himself as to mouth along Steve’s jaw, nipping his skin between tentative licks.

“Pl-Ease! Oh, yes... Please, Buck.”

“Please what, Stevie? Use your words.”

Steve’s mind is a simple stream of 3 thoughts, Touch me. Fuck me. Love me!; all of which he can only vocalize as, “Oh please, please. Bucky!”

Working a third finger along with the other two, Bucky hisses with Steve at the stretch his hole gives.

So fucking tight, the alpha thinks to himself, I don’t know how I’ll survive it, but I’m gonna fuck this omega so gooood.

“Words, Steve. Or I’ll start thinking you don’t want me t’touch ya at’all. Huh, maybe I should stop...”

“No! God, Buck, don’t stop, don’t ever stop!”

“Then tell me what you want. What a’you begging for, Doll?” Bucky trails the tips of his fingers over Steve’s ribs, rounding at his back, “is it my fingers? Sliding through all your slick? Or is it my mouth?”

“Yes!”

Bucky chuckles,” That’s not really an answer, Stevie.” His voice gets darker each time he says the omegas name like he knows. Actually, the bastard does know! He knows exactly what he’s doing.

The prospect of teasing seems to pull him just the tiniest bit to the side of coherent, a snarky remark falling from his lips as easily as the desperate pleas had moments before.

“You havin’ fun, Buck?” Steve pants, “Seems like you’re having a little too much fun.”

“Aw no, baby. I’m having the exact right amount of fun. Aren’t we?”

“ ‘We’ are a lotta peop-le!! Oh shit!” pushing his fingers in deeper, Bucky just brushes against Steve’s prostate. A sinister and smug smile curling his lips upward.

“Words, Stevie. Tell me what you want. And I’ll give it to you, omegamine. Just tell me.”

Steve’s chest flushes more as the words tingle on his tongue. Bucky's nearly feral tone betrays his suave and calm demeanor.

He’s just as desperate to be buried deep in Steve’s hole as Steve is to have him there.

Bucky’s fingers push more firmly against Steve’s prostate, and the omega nearly sees stars.

“Sing for me” Almost like an echo, Steve hears Buckys words like gospel.

It’s a command he’s most familiar with. He knows just what ‘ song’ Bucky wants ….

“Daddy!” Steve hisses around a fourth finger. The words punching out of him before he could stop them.

“ I wondered if that was just fantasy,” the alpha mumbles. Eyes darkening a rich crimson. An ever-present growl rumbling in his chest.

Bucky leans over, letting his fingers get even deeper, dragging against Steve’s special spot with every new thrust. With red eyes and diminishing control, the alpha drinks in every pant and whine that drips past kiss-bruised lips and bouncing off the walls of Steve’s room.

Bucky drops his nose into Steve’s scent gland, swiping his tongue over the swelling tissue for a better taste.

“You smell so fucking good, baby. Like mate.”

“Buck…” Steve gasps, feeling overwhelmed. Any moans he could possibly wish to suppress are yanked from his chest with every move the alpha makes. Sounds too rowdy even for porn echoing in his small dark room.

Bucky can’t get enough of it, stuttering an accidental thrust into Steve’s hip when the omega whines in a delightfully sweet way, the scent of slick and alluring sounds steve makes nearly choking him.

Fuck, I hope Tony has these rooms soundproofed. Steve uses his last brain cell to think.

Bucky's metal fingers continue to work him open, preparing him for his big alpha cock fast and rough and exactly how he likes it, but his other hand still moves sluggishly over Steve’s, slowly purpling prick. Tightening and stopping entirely every so often as to starve off Steve’s orgasm.

“Bucky, please!”

Fuck, Bucky thinks, I hope everybody can hear him, fuckin; hear us,

The blonde knows all he has to do is tell Bucky ‘Fuck me’ maybe add on ‘Daddy’ to further wreck him like it did back in the days if he even still likes that. But as much as Steve likes Bucky telling him what to do, he loves to defy him into aggression, twice as much.

“Say it again,” Bucky mumbles against the omegas scent gland, unable to move a millimeter.

The laugh that tumbles past Steve’s lips is quickly swallowed by Buckys tongue shoved down his throat. Pearly white teeth pulling back only to stress a bite on his bottom lip, not stopping until a faint taste of metal joins the deliriously delicious taste of Buckys omega.

“Again, omega. Say it again.”

With another brush against his prostate, Stev’s vision begins to blur, but he won’t close his eyes, no matter how much he wants them to,

“Alpha!”

Steve is a debauched disaster. A puddle of liquid fire and Bucky wanted to fucking burn.

“You know that’s not what I want to hear, babydoll. But I’m feeling generous, so let’s make a deal, yeah? You say what I want, and I’ll tell my precious boy how good he is. How good you feel around my fingers swallowin’ my fingers so fuckin’ good. And I’ll say your name as much as you want. That’s what you were beggin’ for, wasn’t it?” Bucky rambles, fingers pumping quicker into Steve, hand starving off the omegas dick, tugging over the length with dangerous precision.

“You want me to say your name, dontcha dolly? Tell you you’re being good. Everything Daddy needs. My good, beautiful Stevie.”

Buckys cock presses into the mattress, the slightest friction sending magic to tingle over his skin. His knot calls out for Steve’s sopping wet pussy, fluttering around his fingers. The sensation alone is a mutual torture all on its own.

It would be so fucking easy to slide home into Steve’s awaiting heat. So fucking easy!

Not yet, he reminds himself.

No, he wants something first, and he’s gonna get it.

Outside of the bedroom, the thought of ever using his alpha tone with Steve is unthinkable. There isn’t a scenario out there that could justify taking away his omegas free will.

But here-like this. Sweaty and drooling and filthy, reeking of mate and sex, the tone combines with his voice as if that’s the only way there is to speak.

“Say it again, Steve. Now!”

“Daddy! Daddy, fuck me! Please,pleasepleaseplease”

Gently, the alpha removed his fingers. Steve’s mouth opens to cry, but before he can focus too much on the dreadful emptiness, Bucly is buried to the hilt in Steve’s ass.

“Ah!” Steve shouts, throwing his head back and moving his hands to grip at Bucky’s shoulders for the first time since being told not to move them an inch.

He quickly realizes his mistake, and in a fearful attempt to keep Bucky inside of him, confident he wouldn’t survive another moment of his teasing, his alpha’s voice rumbles past the panic.

“Touch me. Wherever you want, Stevie.”

The sigh of relief is an afterthought, long nimble finger trail over both metal and flesh shoulders, a satisfying wave pushing into the realm of too damn good. Being allowed to touch after being denied was always such an experience. Reverse touch starved. Bucky has the go-ahead to do with him as he wishes. Meanwhile, every instinct within the omega seeks Bucky out. His skin, his mouth, his scent. He wants to feel his alpha under his fingers as much as he wants to bounce on Buckys, but he can’t. He has to lay there and fight against the urge to suck hickeys onto every surface of skin he can find.

Pulling on stands of dark chestnut-colored hair, Steve tries to adjust to the girth inside of him.

“Move.”, the omega whispers harshly after a few moments.

Bucky doesn’t need much prompting; he knows Steve can take it, and more than that, any remaining sting that prepping might have missed, Steve fucking aches for.

“As you wish.”

It’s like a dam break. A flood, unforgiving, and exactly what they each fuckin need!

Bucky's shallow, calculated thrusts soon quicken, taking on a brutal pace.

He slams his cock home and grinds deep before pulling nearly entirely out and slamming back in. Again and again and again. Returning quicker every time he finds himself back inside Steve’s velvet-soft heat.

Words are lost on the omega, choosing to indulge rather on feral groans and guttural whines, meeting every thrust and dragging sharp nails across Bucky's shoulders.

It’s all so much. Like a storm, heavy and pounding in their ears. And it all makes so much sense.

They’re a natural disaster. Bucky kisses like a hurricane, all lips, tongue, and teeth. Steve moves and squeezes his walls around Bucky's cock, no rhyme or reason to his actions, just passion, just I have to have this.

Kisses pouring down upon kisses like rain, soaking them in love, and Steve nearly cries.

He never thought he’d have this again.

The ex-assassin is a bit more vocal.

He can feel his release creeping up, desire warm and urgent low in his belly. But cumming before Steve is absolutely not an option. Half the fun was watching the poster child for purity throw his head back in ecstasy, beggin for ruin with Buckys name on his lips. And he’d be damned if he's gonna miss it in the cloud of his own pleasure.

“D-Deeper!” Steve whimpers, pulling Bucky closer by the nape of his neck.

The hand that had been knotted in Steve’s own hair follows suit of the palm firmly placed over one sharp hip bone.

Gripping him with enough pressure to bruise, Bucky bends over Steve’s lithe build and takes hold of one muscular thigh, nearly folding the blonde in half as he settles Steve’s leg over his flesh shoulder.

“Fuck!” Steve cries, Bucky's cock sliding that much deeper, hitting his prostate with nearly every thrust.

Bucky groans at the new position, one large hand kneading and pulling at Steve's ass, tugging him back with the snap of his hips. His other hand runs over the omegas sweaty, slick body, sliding a finger over a single hard nipple before securing his fingers around Steve’s neck. Palm pushing into his scent gland.

It is a little more than light pressure, but it gives its desired effect; Steve’s eyes go from unfocused and glassy to piercing. More black than blue, pupils blown, but Bucky still catches the glint of gold mingling about, exactly what he’d been waiting for.

There you are, omegamine, he thinks.

“Ugh, yes, fuck! You like that, don’t you. Like me pushing you down. Like me pounding into your sweet pussy. But it’s not really yours is it, baby?”

“Gnnn”

“Answer me. Who’s pussy is this, Steve?”

“Y-yours, Daddy. I’m yours.”

“Mine.” The alpha growls, yet another wave of slick passing Steve’s thighs. “My omega. My good boy. Listened so good, doll.”

“Fuck, Buck. Alpha, my alpha. I missed you, I missed you so fuking much. I missed your big alpha cock. So good to me. I wanna be good, Daddy. Tell me how to be good.”

“You wanna be good?”

“Yes!”

“You’re already so good for me. Perfect omega. Pretty, perfect thing.”

“I can be-ugh yes!! I can...nnnn….be better.” The omega stutters between kisses, “Wanna be the best boy.”

“Yeah?”

“Please, Alpha. Knot me!”

“Okay, baby. Listen closely, hmm?”

“Keep still.” In two mostly smooth movements, Bucky is lying on his back, Steve’s lean frame now straddling the alpha, lifting him by the waist; Bucky sinks Steve further on his cock.

“Ride me.”

As if without his permission, Steve’s moving above the bigger man.

Thick thighs feel even wider between Steve’s slightly smaller ones. Bucky’s hands come to Steve’s waist, helping him grind down harder, deeper.

Steve can’t keep his gaze from trailing down to where they’re connected. His hole swallowing 6 to 7 inches of monster alpha cock, and he could just cry for how hot it is to see them connected like this.

I wanna be locked to you. I want your knot!

“Eyes, Stevie!” Bucky snarls with another hash snap of his hips, impaling Steve further and hitting his prostate. The omega falls over, making sure to lock blue with grey.

Abandoning their vice grip on the alphas thighs, Steve steadies himself with one hand over his lover's heart, fingertips brushing the mating gland by his neck as the other grips the headboard above the bed, wood splintering under every shock of pleasure jolting through Steve in response to each of Bucky's strident thrusts.

“Oh, oh! D-Daddy. I’m gonna, I’m gonna cum!”

“Now that I’ve got you back, we won’t be leaving this room for much, Stevie. I want you on your knees sucking my big alpha cock. Licking up the evidence of what you do to me. I’ll hold you by your neck and force-feed it to you just like you like it.”

“B-Buck-eyy!”

“Yeah, baby, say my name. You’re beautiful. Angelic. A work of. Fucking. Art.” He punctuates his words with a sharp jerking of Steve’s body above him. Pulling his center as close as he can get him, knot swelling mercilessly and snagging on Steve’s rim.

Steve feels pleasure like he’s never felt before. Words slurred and hardly coherent,

“‘Wan’ yur k’nnot!”

He sounds drunk.

Bucky loves it!

“Not until you cum, baby doll. You first, then Daddy. Good boys get their rewards, and this is-” using Steve as a ragdoll, Bucky manhandles him into circular motions, twisting and penetrating the omegas sweet spot with wild precision.

One hand (Steve couldn’t even tell you which, mind too fuzzy and too loaded with his quickly approaching orgasm) presses into the omegas gorgeous tits before sweeping down to tug on Steve’s crying cock, pre-cum dribbling from its bright red head.

Steve cums with a shout, back arching and eyes struggling to stay open, finally shut. His vision whites out with pleasure, but he can’t bring himself to remember anything outside of this bliss. No world lived outside of these walls. Just him, his alpha, and all the pleasure Bucky brings him.

“Ohhh, Allphaa,”

“Yours. Yes! Oh, you feel- God so fucking tight, Stevie. Look ‘atchyou. Milking my cock, pussy squeezing my knot, beggin for it. Daddy’s gonna give it to you.”

“Gimme,” he whispers weakly.

He doesn’t feel Bucky flip him over or the hands pushing both his legs over Bucky’s shoulders, but the moment Bucky starts pumping in and out again, his body jolts awake, and all Steve wants is to make his alpha cum.

“Daddy’s gonna cum right inside your tight, perfect pussy. Yeah, Stevie. ugh!”

“Wan’ be...hmm.”, he tries to form words, but they die on his tongue, not coming down fast enough to entertain even a murmur of conversation.

Another 30 seconds passing before he has enough brain cells to return his gaze to stormy grey.

As always, Bucky’s eyes are already on him.

“That's all you got, Daddy?” The blonde snarks between pants, another orgasm building in his belly, toes curling, and his half-soft prick smushed and pulsating against Bucky's abs.

Bucky laughs around a moan, pulling Steve into another kiss before giving one, two, three more thrusts, shouting out a string of praise as his knot pops inside of his omega.

Steve’s heavy punched out sigh joins the shuddered fluttering of his hole, another wave of release escaping him.

The room fills with pants and sloppy kisses. Each man nosing along their scent glands, finding where a bond mark would go and lapping over it lovingly.

In the 40s, hiding their love was a matter of survival, and a surrender of their need to properly mate. They didn’t have to hide here. They could love each other and bite each other someday. Unified in the one way they spent most of their lives thinking they’d never have.

They Lie there, tied together even after Bucky’s knot goes down. Thoughts of taking that step-marking each other, on the tip of both of their tongues.

They lie there, bathing in the calm after the storm.

Sometime afterward:

After another round and many minutes of lazily making out, the pair rest beside each other, touching the other man wherever he could reach, tracing nonsense patterns into heated flesh and feeling happier than either had in 70 years.

“What were you sayin’, y’know before we… Y’know”, Steve blushes as if he wasn’t just face down ass up drooling over Tony’s Egyptian cotton sheets.

“Before you started crying for my knot, and I fucked you 6 ways from Sunday?”

“You’re a fucking jerk!”

“Nah, I’m just fucking a jerk.”, The alpha smiles, joy like nothing he’s been able to remember trips over his heart.

“I’m serious, Buck. Before we...did it”

“Ha!”

A sharp smack falls onto Buckys bare chest, “Fine! Before you came like a geyser up my ass-”

“Steve!” Bucky barks a laugh, loving the pink blush dusting over Steve’s cheeks despite the faux aggravation he was attempting to express.

“Will ya quit interrupting me? You fucking alphas are so rude!”

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry, Stevie. What were you saying?” Bucky concedes, the shit-eating grin doing nothing for the butterflies swarming the omega’s insides.

“You were saying that you couldn’t decipher real from what’s fake?”

Sighing, Bucky cards his fingers through Steve’s hair, not stopping, when the omega turns onto his stomach, exposing his back and facing the brunette. Bucky smiles down at the omega letting his hand slide down to his spine, tracing the smooth pale skin with the tip of his finger.

It’s freeing, liberating even, to let his hands and eyes roam wherever they want. After so many years of separation, then being reunited only to build unnecessary obstacles designed for the sole purpose of self-sabotaging, somehow they’ve found themselves again in the other man’s arms.

Bucky bends down to press a gentle kiss on Steve’s shoulder, loving the way the omega shivers beneath his lips.

I could just eat him alive…

“Buuuuck,” Steve shakes his head, smiling at the alpha underneath long lashes.

“Sorry, baby, you just look so sexy.”

“Oh, do I? Maybe it has a little to do with all the naked skin?”

Smiling goofily, Bucky allows his voice to get al sweet, “C’mere, smartass.”

Bucky pulls a yelping Steve into his lap, effectively laying the slender omega over his broad alpha chest.

The feeling is exhilarating. Bucky feels his stomach swoop and heart skip a beat, feeling more accomplished in this solitary moment entangled with Steve than in months of SHIELD work.

Steve grins despite himself. Settling against Bucky's chest, folding his hands in front of him and resting his chin onto his knuckles. Suddenly thrilled by the position.

He can stare into Bucky's eyes forever, and he has a sneaking suspicion the alpha won’t protest.

Cold metal fingers trail down Steve’s spine, eliciting a gentle quiver from the blonde man, shamelessly beaming beneath the attention.

“I remember how scared I would get in the winter.”

Steve’s brow furrowed in confusion, lying his head down onto his forearms and urging the larger man with his eyes to continue.

“I love that I can make you shiver now. But I think it would’ve just about wrecked me with worry back then.”

Bucky's flesh hand curls across Steve’s exposed waist, letting his heat seal into his fingers. His eyes close in relief. Like he’s remembered something… or rather; reminded himself of something.

“ I remember the worry best. The sleepless nights and evenings spent bent over pews, praying no one could hear your name falling from my lips because then they’d know… Know how much I wanted you. Wanted you to live. Wanted you to love me. Wanted you to be my omega. I remember going to work at the docks and feeling the bike rise in my throat as we talked about chasing tail when all that I fucking wanted was to make it through my shift and run my way home to you.”

Steve smiles fondly at Bucky. His head remains rested in the crook of his right elbow but reaches forward with his left to trail patterns on Bucky’s scent gland. Trailing back from his neck to his cheek, he will never understand how helpful he is just by existing.

“ I remember wanting you. I know there has never been a moment in which I existed, and I didn’t love you, even under hydra. Even when they told me- made me go after you. They had to wipe me twice before I stopped fighting… I should’ve kept fighting.”

“Buck-“ Steve’s tone is soft and reprimanding in the way only Steve Rogers could manage, but it’s not enough. The tears build behind grey and crimson. Shame burning him from the inside.

Bucky shakes his head, trying to shake away Steve’s tender touch.

Leaning forward, Steve ignores the alphas dismissal, warm petal-soft lips find Buckys, and he presses his weight deeper into his alpha.

“I’m here. With you. You stopped, Buck. You never, not for a second, stopped fighting! That wasn’t you.” Steve’s tone was loving and firm in the way only Steve Rogers could ever manage- or could ever feel for Bucky Barnes.

Bucky's eyes find crystal blue, and for a moment, he’s thrust back into his mind, his heart thrashing and growling, crying Not him! Not Steve. Stop! God damn it! You’re hurting him! We can’t hurt him!

For a moment, Steve’s sweet pink cheeks are bruised and bleeding, split by Russian metal and the free will Bucky was robbed of.

“Bucky!” Steve whispers harshly, just on the edge of frantic, “ C’mon, alpha. Don’t leave me alone again.”

“I’m here.”, Bucky chokes out, “ I’m here, baby. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

They hold each other for, neither of them speaking. Foreheads pressed together between grabby hands pushing firmly against heated flesh.

A reminder…

I’m alive. You’re okay. We’re together.

“ I remember those things; that panic of possibly losing you, very easily,” Bucky continues, “ And then… it started as flashes. Split seconds. But god, did I chase after them. It would be something minimal at first. You lying down on the bed or smiling at me over a sketchbook. But then they changed, and your head was thrown back, and the things you were drawing were us-naked. And I started hating myself because my fucking crush on you was filtering in on my memories of you, and it wasn’t fair. It felt real, but I knew it wasn’t or-“

“But they are real, Buck. We’ve always been us. This way! Laws be damned! We loved each other, and no one was gonna tell us we couldn’t have that!”

“It didn’t matter, though,” Bucky adds.

Steve shoots up off his chest, kneeling on the mattress, and as naked as the day he was born. More hurt than he thought he could ever be in his alphas arms, “ Of course it did. How could you say that? Wha-”

Bucky sits up quickly, reaching out, but Steve swiftly evades him, feeling colder than Brooklyn in February.

“Steve-“

“No! How could you say that? It matters! We matter. You matter. I fucking matter, Bucky! I lost you. You died! You fell off that train, and my alpha died!” he cries,

“I flew that plane into the ocean not because Captain America’s nobility prevails, I did it because l was grieving and life wasn’t worth living without you.”

“Steve-“

“No! Shut. Up.” Steve growls, but it sounds more like a whine.

“I died too, Buck. And woke up to a life I didn’t want either. Not just like you. I know what you went through was unthinkably cruel. But living without you was a prison sentence. And I had no choice but to wear red, white, and blue in place of orange and serve out my life miserably and without you. And that mattered.”

“I know, Stevie, I know. I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant, baby.”

“Then how else did you mean it?”

“There were things that I saw or remembered-whatever! But neither matter because fantasy is something that can never happen, and if it’s a memory, it will never happen again.”

Steve can feel his heart breaking in his chest. Angry and more than a little offended, he can practically feel the anguish emanating from his alpha’s skin.

“Because you wouldn’t want the blood-soaked into my hands to touch you. To touch your pretty perfect body, so I say your name, and I can’t stop because my alpha is always just before feral, and you are the only thing keeping Me on the side of sane. I know you matter. You’re the only thing on this entire fucked up bullshit infested planet that matters!”

“But the thought of losing you based on things I simply wanted and not what you needed from me? It didn’t matter- nothing mattered beyond you. I thought you wanted Bucky Barnes, the closeted best friend. I couldn’t trust myself to believe you wanted me in the 40s, and I couldn’t hope that if you had, you’d want me still.”

“You’re an idiot,” Steve sighs, eyes misting, but he lets himself be drawn in by strong, vulnerable arms.

“...I think I understand what you mean, though.”

“Yeah?”

“I wanted to say I miss you ao many times. But then I just...couldn’t. I thought it wouldn’t change anything, so I just kept pretending I didn’t. But then there are days when I wake up, and the fact that it’s without you won’t let me pretend anymore.”

“Now, who’s the idiot?” Bucky chuckles, brushing strands of hair from those hypnotizing blue eyes.

Bucky lets the Sympathy, understanding pool from his scent and settle over Steve like a warm blanket.

Smiling, Steve takes the comfort from his alpha in stride, “Of course, I talk like an idiot, Buck. How else are you ‘posed to understand me?”

Huffing a quick laugh, the ex-assassin feels all the love for this omega shine in a smile, “You’re such a fuckin’ punk, y’know that little omega?”

“ I’m your fuckin’ Punk, and besides, I’m not so little anymore.”

Whatever faithless semblance of decency they had left swiftly deteriorates as Bucky fully settles Steve into his lap, lying back into the cushions and pulling the duvet over them both.

He presses a soft kiss on Steve’s forehead and whispers with as much meaning he can muster, “You’re perfect, omegamine. Fuckin’ perfect! Perfect for me, you hear?”

Steve releases a joyful giggle,” I hear. Are we going to sleep, Alpha?”

“Yep!”

Snuggling deeper into the alpha’s chest, Steve feels content for the first time in what feels like forever, loving how perfectly he still fits in Bucky's arms, even all beefed up by the serum. Not a single gap between them.

“You comfortable, sweetheart?” Bucky asks happily. Certainly hearing and feeling Steve’s pleased purring.

“ I’m warm,” The omega mumbles, exhaustion barreling into him.

“Good. Sleep, Stevie. We'll talk more in the morning.”

Steve doesn’t respond, just nuzzles into his alpha more until his nose is close enough to the source of the brunette’s scent, humming satisfaction as he sniffs pleasantly.

“I never thought I’d get to have this. That you’d be in my arms like this. I thought I’d spend the rest of my life just pining after you-loving you. I love you, omegamine. I love you so much.”

Steve replies in soft snores, but Bucky doesn’t care. He presses a kiss to the top of ruffled blonde hair and falls asleep with a smile on his face.

He doesn't mind that Steve fell asleep because nothing else matters besides his blue-eyed beauty. Not when he has this. Not when Steve is soft and asleep and warm. He has the rest of his life to tell his omega he loves him.

One thing is for sure.

Bucky will never stop saying Steve’s name.

[bucksfucks]

         amorosa // steve rogers

chapter seven: scattered touches

 chapter one // chapter two // chapter three    

     chapter four // chapter five // chapter six

               ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

                             main masterlist

                            series masterlist

summary || three months after you’d called it quits with steve you realise you miss him more than you thought you would.

pairing || sugar daddy!steve rogers x reader

word count || 1,979 words

warnings || sugar daddy/sugar baby themes, financial issues, undefined age gap, sloppy car sex, unprotected sex, daddy kink, angst, fluff — 18+ ONLY//MINORS DNI

notes || yes this is full of cliches and tropes, let me live out my fantasy hehe

     It was easy for the days to turn into weeks and the weeks into months. With nothing to ground you to reality, life felt like it was slipping through your fingers; not that you really minded. 

    Moving out of Steve’s place was by far the most miserable you had been. 

    He wasn’t there, you weren’t sure if he even lived there anymore. 

    Steve had let work consume him just like you had let your thoughts consume you. 

    Three months passed, in the time you had managed to find a new apartment for yourself. A good, fun job that you actually liked. A job where you wouldn’t have to run around waiting on tables of rich men.

    A job that wouldn’t remind you of Steve. 

    “Do you ever wonder how he’s doing?” Simoné’s voice filled the cozy kitchen the two of you shared. 

    She was still working at the restaurant, but she always enjoyed it more than you ever did. 

    “Nope.”

    Yes you do. You lie awake wondering who he’s with now. If he’s found someone else to spoil.

    “I can tell when you’re lying to me,” she chuckled, giving you a knowing look over her shoulder. 

    You sighed, a sympathetic smile on your face as you knew she was just trying to be a good friend and help you. 

    It was pasta night which meant you were on noodles and she was on sauce. 

    That’s the one good thing about working at a restaurant, the cooks are nice enough to give you free cooking tips. 

    “I do, yeah,” you admit, “I just hate that I do.” 

    She nods, a warm hand on your shoulder as she plates some food for the both of you as you open a bottle of wine, pouring two generous glasses. 

    “He never said anything about Peggy?” She asked as you grimaced at the sound of the other woman’s name. 

    “She was his wife, they ended on bad terms, and that she’s definitely not one to mess with. That’s all I know.” You sighed as you fell into one of the dining room chairs. 

    Simoné gave you a look that said she had more questions, questions that you probably didn’t have answers to. 

    “Peter was nice enough to offer getting some more information on her, but,” you stopped, the sound of your ringtone filling the small apartment. 

    You picked it up, seeing Steve’s name pop up.

    There were no emoji’s, no sign that you had ever been in a relationship of any sorts with him. 

    “I’m not picking it up.” You told Simoné as she rolled her eyes, “you know curiosity killed the cat, but the answer brought it back.”

    You narrowed your eyes, gnawing on your lip as the device vibrated in your hand. 

    “Fine,” you groaned, swiping across the screen and quickly retreating to your room as Simoné shouted various words of encouragement. 

    “Steve what is it?” You said, perhaps a little harshly as you heard a soft sigh on the other end. 

    “Sweetheart, just let me explain everything. Please, I know I sure as hell don’t deserve this chance, but if you let me, I’ll make it up to you.” 

    His voice was low and sweet, slightly hoarse as you hated to admit that you missed the sound of it. 

    There was a hollow feeling inside of you ever since you, in a way, broke up with Steve. 

    “One cup of coffee.” You said, trying to hold back the emotions in your voice. 

    “One cup of coffee.” He echoed your words, your stomach fluttering as you heard him chuckle, “that’s all I’ll need.” 

    “That’s all you’ll get, Rogers.” You chid back, playful edge in your voice before you hung up the phone in an attempt to put together what you were about to do.

~

    Leave it to Steve to pick the fanciest, classiest, and nicest café in all of New York to take you to. 

    You still felt out of place, the hoodie you were wearing must’ve been a dead giveaway that yes, it was your first time here. 

    Yet, you couldn’t stop the feeling of excitement as you lifted your head each time a new patron entered the small shop. 

    It never ended up being Steve. 

    Until it did. 

    He walked in wearing nothing less than what you expected; a neatly tailored suit, polished shoes, and the posture of a Greek god. 

    Fuck. 

    You, along with everyone else, had their eyes on Steve as he stalked through the tables and stopped in front of you. He bent down, placing a kiss to each cheek, “how are you?”

    “Fine,” you replied, slightly mesmerized by his presence.

    He smiled, taking a seat across from you before a waiter quickly took both of your orders, Steve reciting yours from memory. 

    “How’ve you been, sweetheart?” He asked, the pet-name making your heart ache as you didn’t realize how much it would affect you. 

    “Okay, living with Simoné now. And uh, I got a job too, so it’s been good.” You told him, and you weren’t lying. 

    He nodded his head, eyes trained on you as your cup of coffee was placed in front of you.

    “Have you been?” You asked the dreaded question, figuring it was now or never to rip off the bandaid and find out if he’s been seeing someone new. 

    He sighed, running his fingers through his hair; a nervous habit. 

    “I’ve been better,” he gave you a tired smile, taking a sip of his coffee as he leaned on his elbows in an attempt to get closer to you. 

    His musky cologne washed over you, it wasn’t the same one from before. 

    You didn’t know why it broke your heart. 

    “I’m sorry to hear that,” you said, not really knowing how else to fill the silence. 

    He chuckled, “I’ve missed you, you were always so,” he trailed off, “polite.”

    It didn’t take much to realise it was a euphemism and you had to fight back a shiver. 

    You swallowed thickly, inhaling a shaky breath as Steve leaned in closer. 

    “Let’s cut to the chase, yeah?” He asked and you nodded, eyes darting around the little café suddenly feeling as if all eyes were on you. 

    You sat and you talked, you took turns listening, a pastry and a few cups of coffee later, you felt like the old Steve, your Steve, was back and sitting in front of you. 

    “I never meant to hurt you, sweetheart. Peggy,” he whispered her name like it was a curse, “is a part of my past, my past that I wish I could erase.” 

    You wanted to reach over and hold his hand, your fingers twitching and aching for him warmth, but you stopped yourself. 

    “My intentions were never to hurt you, I’ve always wanted to protect you.”

    “You lost my trust, Steve,” you almost whispered as his eyes softened. 

    “I’m not asking you to forgive me, all I want is to know you’re safe and taken care of.” 

    You nodded your head, averting your eyes as you fiddled with the rings on your fingers. This was the Steve you fell in love with. 

    “Can I give you a ride home? It’s getting late and I hate the thought of you on the subway alone at night.” 

    You nodded your head, grabbing your things and following Steve out as you let his words replay in your head. 

    You were on autopilot as he opened the door of his car, a new one by the looks of it as you crawled inside. 

    The drive back was quiet, the subtle roar of his engine mixed with soft music consumed you both as you slowly relaxed into the seat. 

    “Right here?” Steve’s voice brought you back to reality as he pulled up outside of you apartment building, “the one and only.” You chuckled, the first time you had smiled a genuine, carefree smile that night. 

    “I would invite you up, but I think Simoné has an early morning tomorrow.” You said, a small flame erupting inside of you.

    The tension between the two of you had been thick ever since you got into the car. Steve nodded his head, “no worries, sweetheart. I just wanted to make sure you got home safe.” 

    You didn’t want to leave, your brain telling you to tell him goodnight, but your body wanted to pull him in by his tie and let him taste you. 

    “You okay there, sweetheart?” He asked, a small smirk on his lips as you shook your head, “yeah, uhm, just thinking.” 

    He hummed, “what about?” 

    You could feel his breath over your face as he leaned in, yours shaky as you met his eyes.

    “Just stuff,” you could barely get the words out before his lips sealed yours. 

    You gasped into his kiss, your fingers going to tangle in his collar, pulling at his tie as he hummed. 

    “Did you miss me, Princess? Did you miss Daddy?” You whimpered at his words, skin feeling on fire as he let his hands roam up your arms. 

    “Daddy sure as hell missed you,” her growled, pulling you over his lap quickly as you let out a squeak, laughing as the way his tie got tangled in your hoodie strings. 

    Your laughter was short lived, a moan replacing it as he ground your hips over his. 

    “Fuck,” your words were strangled as he gently sunk his teeth into the skin of your neck, “that’s it baby, feel what you do to me? How fuckin’ hard my cock is for you already?”

    You shivered, your head falling onto his shoulder as you whined. 

    “Shh, it’s okay, Daddy’s here, ‘m right here,” he whispered, “let me take care of you.” 

    He cradled your face, searching your eyes for any sign of doubt, “please.” You croaked, throat dry before his lips were on yours once again. 

    “Wanna feel you,” you nearly begged, both of your hips rocking against each other as he threw his head back. 

    His lips were red, wet, and slightly swollen as his tie hung loosely around his neck as he made quick work of his belt. 

    “Fuck, Princess,” he groaned, “that’s what you want? Need Daddy’s cock?” He cooed as he slipped your leggings down one of your legs, not bothering with the other.

    It was a tight, crammed space, both your backs would feel it tomorrow, but in the moment, neither of you cared. 

    “Move your panties to the side, that’s it, Princess,” he praises, feeling the head of his cock at your entrance as you throw your head back.

    Sinking onto him has you breathless, nothing else mattering as he fills you up and grips at your hips like he’s afraid to lose you again.

    “Fuck, I-I thought I’d lost you,” he pants as you move your hips over him, “thought I lost the one good thing in my life.” He admits, your heart skipping a beat as your bodies move in sync with each other. 

    You press your forehead against his, the feeling of his warm skin enough to bring a tear to your eyes as he rocks you against him. 

    It’s embarrassing how close you are, but you didn’t realise how much you’d needed to be touched. Not be anyone, but by Steve. 

    “Want you to come for Daddy, don’t hold back,” he grunts, eyebrows knit tightly together as you both sloppily reach your highs in just a matter of minutes. 

    You’re left panting, the windows foggy as Steve presses kisses to your face. 

    You don’t care about the implications, not wanting anything or anyone other than Steve right now.

    It’s a cool night when you finally step out, Steve doing the same before he’s pulling you into one last kiss as he watches you walk away. 

    You give him one last look over your shoulder, “hey Steve?”

    His head perks up, “call me.”

tagging //  @jennmurawski13 | @nakedrogers | @vollzeitliebe | @kelbabyblue | @jevans2 | @babyyhoneyydarling | @cloudystevie | @lahoete | @speechlessxx | @aikeia

[leossmoonn]

Big Bad and Little Wolf

masterlist

pairing - klaus mikaelson x fem,wolf!reader

type - fluff, angst

note / request - “Hey can you do a klaus x reader where she’s basically the wolf who’s pregnant with hope, basically Hayleys story but she does fall for klaus after hating him” alright so i don’t know too much about haley’s story, so i had to do some research. the beginning takes place in the first ep of ‘originals’ then the rest i made up cause i didn’t wanna have to rewatch the first season lol i hope i got it right. enjoy! 

summary - after getting pregnant with the infamous hybrid, you find you have some feelings for him.

warnings / includes - language, mentions of sex, fighting, mentions of abortion (for anyone who isn't comfortable with that), and klaus being hot but a jackass at the same time :)

————

*gif isn’t mine*

“No, it’s impossible,” Klaus said, clenching his jaw. 

“I said the same thing myself,” Elijah said. 

Klaus glared and pointed at you, Elijah, and Sophie. “This is a lie. You’re all lying. Vampires cannot procreate.”

“But werewolves can,” Sophie said. “Magic made you a vampire, but you were born a werewolf.”

Klaus turned to face Sophie, not wanting to believe what she was saying.

“You’re the original hybrid, the first of your kind, and this pregnancy is one of nature’s loopholes.”

Klaus shook his head and went to lunge at you. “You’ve been with someone else. Admit it!”

Elijah caught his brother from ripping your throat out. You looked at him, hateful and regretful tears welling up in your eyes.

“Hey, I've spent my days held captive in a freaking alligator bayou because they think that I’m carrying some magical, miracle baby,” you said, balling your hands in fists. “Don’t you think I would’ve fessed up if it wasn’t yours?”

“My sister gave her life to perform the spell,” Sophie added. “She needed to confirm this pregnancy. Because of Jane-Anne’s sacrifice, the lives of this girls and her baby are now controlled by us. We can keep them safe, or we can kill them. If you don’t help us take down Marcel, so help me, Y/n won't live long enough to see her first maternity dress.”

The three of you looked at Sophie incredulously. 

“Wait, what?” You asked. 

“Enough of this. If you want Marcel dead, he's dead. I’ll do it myself,” Elijah said. 

“No,” Sophie shook her head. “We can't, not yet. We have a clear plan that we need to follow, and there are rules.”

Klaus gritted his teeth. “How dare you command me. Threaten me with what you wrongfully perceive to be my weaknesses! This is a pathetic deception. I won’t hear any more lies.”

“Niklaus,” Elijah stopped is brother. “Listen.”

Klaus turned to you, looking at your stomach. He began to hear the baby’s heartbeat. You put your hand over your stomach protectively. Klaus couldn’t believe his ears. It was real, the baby you were carrying was real. He didn’t know how to feel, but he knew he wasn’t going to give in. 

“Kill her and the baby,” Klaus said, turning to Elijah. “What do I care?”

Elijah glared at his brother. Klaus walked off, not caring to give you a second glance. 

“Screw you, Klaus!” You yelled out, followed by a choked sob. “I’m out of here.” You started to walk away, but one of Sophie’s friends blocked the entrance. You looked at Elijah for help. He turned to Sophie. 

“No one touches the girl. I will fix this,” Elijah said. 

Sophie let the two of you go. You walked out of the alley, tears streaming down your face. Elijah took your arm gently, having you face him. 

“I will talk to him, Y/n,” Elijah said. 

“What’s the use?” You sniffled. “He wants nothing to do with this baby. He’s a selfish, heartless monster.”

“Y/n, let me try and make him see what this baby brings to the table. I assure you, everything will be okay,” Elijah said. “I give you my word.” You looked into Elijah’s eyes and nodded. “Alright. Thank you.”

Elijah nodded and left to talk to Klaus. You went back to the byou, knowing that the witches were waiting for you.

The next day wasn’t any easier. It didn’t seem like Elijah got through to Klaus at all. You couldn’t help curse at yourself for putting yourself in this position. Why did you sleep with him? And secondly, why didn’t you use a condom?

You shook your head at your thoughts, walking through the French Quarter to where the Mikaelson’s lived. You were going to find Rebekah and try to see if she could talk to Klaus.

You knocked on the door, frowning when you saw Klaus.

“Hello, Little Wolf. What can I do for you?” Klaus grinned.

“Is Rebakah here?” You asked.

“Yes, she is,” Klaus said.

“Great. I need to talk to her,” you said, trying to go into the house, but you ran into Klaus.

You huffed in frustration, looking into his dark-blue eyes.

If we were to have this baby, at least it would have his pretty eyes, you thought.

“Not so fast, Y/n. Have you know, Rebakah already tried to talk to me about not killing you or the baby, but sadly, it didn’t work,” Klaus said.

You scoffed, “Are you really this heartless? I don’t care about you killing me, but a baby? Oh wait, no, I get it. You’re scared that we’re gonna be shit parents like your parents. I get it now.”

You knew you had peicered his heart, becuase he took ahold of your neck and used his vamp speed to take you in the house and slam you against the wall. You groaned in pain, trying to pry yourself from his grip.

“Do not speak to me like that!” Klaus shouted. “You think you can sway me with your little findings? You think I want to be a parent, Y/n? No, I want nothing to do with the horrendous thing growing inside of you,” Klaus growled.

You gasped for air, your hands on is hand, trying to get him to let go.

“Niklaus!”

Klaus and you saw Elijah behind him, a disappointed look on his face.

“Let go of the girl. Now,” Elijah commanded.

Klaus looked back at you, crazy shining in his eyes. He let you go roughly. You fell to the floor, holding your neck and coughing.

“You do not treat a woman who is barring a child like that, Niklaus. Mother would be so disappointed in you,” Elijah said.

Klaus growled, “Do not talk to me about Mother!”

“Fine,” Elijah said. He walked over to you, helping you up. “I will talk to you about this baby, though. If you do not wish to comply with the witches and keep the baby safe, then you shall be killed. If you do comply, you could welcome your first child into the world, Niklaus. I know you felt something when you heard the heartbeat, so think seriously about your decision to leave or care for the girl and the baby.”

Klaus looked between you two. His brother was right. When he heard the baby’s heartbeat, tears of joy had sprung in his eyes. And the thought of you carrying his baby filled his heart with a little love and pride. He knew that if he did comply, then everything would change. He would change. Was he able and willing to do that?

“Let me think about it,” Klaus said.

“Alright. Have your answer by tomorrow morning. Say sorry to Y/n,” Elijah said.

Klaus looked into your eyes, seeing tears fall out of them. It pained his heart to see you cry more than he’d like to admit.

“I’m sorry, Y/n,” he said.

You gave Klaus a forgiving, kind smile, knowing he meant it. “Thank you.” You then turned to Elijah.

“Can I stay here tonight? I hate the byou.”

“Of course. We have plenty of rooms. Do you want dinner?” Elijah asked.

“Sure,” you nodded.

Elijah smiled at you, then looked to Klaus. “Klaus go and cook something for Y/n, hm?”

“Fine,” Klaus rolled his eyes. He went to the kitchen to get to work.

“He acts like he’s 5. Oh, my God,” you chuckled.

“Yes, he’s immature, but if he makes the right choice like I know he will, he will be a great father,” Elijah said.

“How do you know that he will make the right choice?” You asked.

“Well, Klaus loves family. He loves the idea of a perfect family. We never had that as children. I know he would love to have a family of his own more than anything, but his fear of taking care of a child blocks him from admitting,” Elijah explained.

“And his pride. He’s too afraid to become soft,” you snorted.

Elijah chuckled, “Yes, you are right.”

You smiled at Elijah. “Thank you for saving me, again.”

“Of course, Y/n. This baby is going to my neice or nephew. It’s already part of the family, as are you. Now, I should be going. I have some business to attend to,” he said.

“Alright. See you again,” you waved.

Elijah gave you a warm smile and left the house. You sighed and seated yourself in the living room. You hoped to the moon Elijah was right.

The next morning you woke up to the smell of eggs and bacon. You did a big stretch before finding yourself needing to puke You rushed to the bathroom, falling to your knees. While throwing up, you felt the hair around your face lift up. You finished having your morning sickness and took a sheet of toilet paper and wiped your mouth. You flushed the toilet, looking back to see Klaus with a cheerful smile on his face, his hand holding up your hair.

“Oh, it’s you,” you said, standing up. You went over to the sink to wash your face and hands.

“I thought you’d be happy to see me,” Klaus said. “I helped your hair not fall into the toilet.”

You chuckled, “Right. Yeah, thanks.”

You started to brush your teeth, Klaus standing there, watching you. You furrowed your brows and spit out the toothpaste.

“Go away,” you said.

“No, I wanted to talk about the baby,” Klaus said.

You turned around, leaning on the sink counter. “Does this mean you have agreed to help me take care of the baby, and not put me in a chokehold anymore?”

Klaus chuckled and moved closer to you. “Yes, but on one condition.”

You rolled your eyes. “No, I don’t want to hear it. The baby and I are hungry, I’m going downstairs.” You moved past him, but only got out of the bathroom before being pulled back.

“You’ll want to listen to me, Little Wolf. It will make it easier for us,” Klaus said, pulling you so barley had any space between you two.

Your heartbeat spiked up, not feeling totally comfortable with how close you two were. 

“Let me go, Klaus,” you said through a clenched jaw.

“One moment. I will protect you and the baby and do what the witches want, if you agree to do stay out of my way and do whatever I command you to.”

You scoffed, “No! I’m not gonna be one of your victims. I’m carrying your baby, Klaus. You have no right to control me.”

Klaus rolled his eyes. “Fine. Just promise to stay out of my way then?”

“Fine,” you sighed.

Klaus put his hand up to your cheek, brushing a peice of hair out of the way. You looked up into his eyes, feeling a gravitational pull between you and him. Your eyes flickered down to his lips and back to his eyes. Klaus smirked, cupping your cheek.

“Falling, are we?” Klaus remarked.

You puled away, the moment ruined and the feelings you were feeling disappearing slowly.

“You wish,” you said before walking off.

Klaus looked at your retreating figure, feeling a little regretful that he had spoken. If he hadn’t, maybe you two would have kissed.

He shook his head of the romantic feelings he was feeling. He wasn’t supposed to fall in love with you. You were just a little bump in the road in his plan to ruling New Orleans. And this baby you two had, like the witches said, is the miracle baby that would change the supernatural world forever.

He walked down to find you eating some strawberries, smiling and talking to Elijah. Even though he pushed his feelings for you away, he couldn’t deny you were gorgeous, even when just after waking up.

“Ah, good morning, Klaus. Y/n has told me that you have chosen to protect her and the baby. I’m glad you made the right choice,” Elijah said.

“Yes, well, I’m not completely heartless,” Klaus said and sat down at the island table next to you.

“Could’ve fooled me,” you smirked.

“Ha-ha, very funny,” Klaus rolled his eyes, throwing a blueberry at you.

You giggled, chucking a strawberry at him. Klaus smiled at you, catching the strawberry and eating it. You couldn’t help but smile at this. You never had ever seen him like this. He looked joyful and carefree. It was nice to see him like this. You hoped he continued to be like this before and definitely after your pregnancy.

“Hello, love birds!” Rebekah announced.

You looked to the blonde and smiled. “Hey!”

“How is my sister-in-law-to-be?” Rebekah smiled.

“Good since your brother hasn’t been an ass for the last 5 minutes,” you said.

“Wow. Now, that is unheard of. Interesting,” Rebekah smiled.

“You two are friends? I thought you two hated each other?” Klaus asked.

“Well, she’s carrying my neice or nephew. It’s different now,” Rebekah explained.

“Yep. Apparently having your child gets me friends,” you chuckled.

Rebekah smiled. “Well, plus, she is a great person once you get to know her. And she’s the only girl who lives here now. I’m sick of being in the boy’s club.”

“Aw, thanks, Bex. You’re a great person, too,” you smiled.

Rebekah came over and took a strawberry from the bowl in front of you. “I have to go.”

You frowned, “Oh, why? Don’t leave me with them.”

“Ah, Y/n,” Elijah smiled. “I have been nothing but nice to you.”

You smiled at him. “True, but I want some girl time.”

“We will get that time soon, promise. I have to go and meet Marcel,” Rebekah said. 

“No,” Klaus said, standing up. 

You glared at Klaus. “Let her go. She could use some time with someone who is romantically interested in her.”

“I said no. You will not do anything with Marcel as long as you are living with me,” Klaus commanded. 

“Oh, please, Niklaus. I’m a grown woman, I don't listen to you anymore. Ta-ta,” Rebekah waved at you and left the house.

“Jesus Christ,” Klaus muttered. “I’m going to kill-”

“Klaus!” You exclaimed. “Come with me to shop for maternity clothes, yeah?”

Klaus turned to you, “Why would I want to do that?”

You frowned, “Because it’s good for a mother and father to bond, even when they hate each other. We can go and buy you some new shirts, too.”

“I don’t need to buy anything for myself,” Klaus said. 

“Yeah, you do. You wear the same 3 colors. You need to put in some pink in your wardrobe,” you said. 

“Y/n is right. Go and spend time with, as the millennials say, your baby mama,” Elijah smiled. 

Klaus rolled your eyes. “You two are impossible, but fine! Let’s go and get this over with.”

You got up and clapped your hands in excitement. You put on sneakers and grabbed a jacket before going outside. Klaus followed you out to the shops.  “I have a question,” you said. 

“Yes?” Klaus asked. 

“Since you can compel people, do you ever use actual money to buy clothes or compel yourself clothes?” You asked. 

“Sometimes I buy, sometimes I compel,” he shrugged. 

“Where do you get the money to buy?” You asked. 

“I’ve been alive for 1,000 years, I have had jobs before,” Klaus explained. 

“Ah, right. Makes sense,” you nodded. 

You two walked the rest of the way in silence. You two went into a clothing store and went to the maternity section. 

“You aren’t even showing yet, why do we need to buy now?” Klaus asked. 

 “It’s just a fun thing I’ve heard mothers do. Plus, I assume with time, life will be a lot more complicated, and I won’t have time to do these things,” you explained. 

“Hm, interesting,” Klaus said. 

You sighed quietly, looking at a few shirts for 3 months. Klaus followed behind you, observing you. He would never admit, but he enjoyed spending time with you. He did find you a little annoying and a bit of a distraction, but the fact that you were fun to be around and made him feel like he could let go was what made him all the more willing to comply with Elijah and the witches. You carrying his baby also helped, too.

“Why are you staring at me?” You asked. 

Klaus shrugged, “I have nothing better to do.”

You hummed, “Right.” 

You two shopped in silence for about an hour, then going to a nearby restaurant for a snack. Spending time with him wasn’t as bad as you thought. He was more quiet and a lot less whiney than he had shown in the past. He just let you do whatever you want, whatever was safe, of course. He actually was kind to you in the hour. He laughed at your jokes, answered whatever questions you had, and took an effort to ask questions he had to get to know you. 

Maybe he wasn’t so bad, you thought. 

You two went back home, a bunch of shopping bags in your hands. You put them in the living room, yawning and stretching. 

“I’m going to take a nap,” you said. 

“Alright, sleep well,” Klaus said. 

You gave him a small smile and nodded. You went up the stairs, Klaus watching your retreating figure. 

“See how easy it is to be nice?” Elijah’s voice came from the kitchen. 

Klaus glared at his older brother. “I’m not doing it for you or her.”

“I never said you were, but now you have made me suspicious. It seems like you like her, Niklaus,” Elijah smiled. 

“I don’t like her. Not romantically, anyways,” Klaus said. 

“Are you sure? Why did you sleep with her, then?” Elijah asked. 

“I don’t know. It was just a one night stand that ended up turning into something more. Why do you care, Elijah?” Klaus asked. 

“I see the way you look at her, Niklaus. There is no shame in admitting your feelings,” Elijah said. 

Klaus rolled his eyes. “Whatever, Elijah. I have to go.”

Elijah smirked, “Alright. See you later, brother.”

“See you,” Klaus said before going back out.

Over the course of the next few months, you and Klaus had gotten closer and became more friendly towards each other. You had learned that he had a passion for painting and reading. You learned that he wished that he had the perfect family and he hoped that one day, his family could reunite and be together once again. He knew how to cook and actually a good man, but because of his chaotic and violent childhood, he became the bad guy. He seeks validation and honesty in others, wanting to be loved and have friendships that lasted a lifetime. 

Klaus had learned that you were adopted and thrown out all by the same family. You didn’t know who your real parents were, and you craved that information and have been searching for it since you first turned. He had learned that you had a passion for baking and helping others. That you were strong, confident, and weren’t afraid to protect your loved ones. He thought it was admirable the way you handled stress and betrayal, wishing he learned your patience. 

Learning about each other more had made you two fall in love with each other, but that was unbeknownst to you two. You both didn’t even realise your own feelings. You personally knew that you liked being in Klaus’s presence. You felt safe and protected, accepted and even loved. He made you feel alive and the fact that he showed interest in you and the baby helped you like him more. 

For Klaus, he enjoyed your presence, too. You always knew how to make him laugh. You made him feel different. Like he could be himself and forget who're or rather, what he was. It was freeing being with you, and he loved it. He was even looking forward more and more to the baby you and him had concieved. In his mind, you two were the family he always wanted and pictured. 

Even though you two didn’t notice your infatuation with each other, everyone else sure did. Rebekah and Elijah decided to make a plan on getting you two together. Every chance they could, they would tease you two, make it so you tripped into him, left you two alone together, etc. 

Like now, Rebekah had placed a golf ball on the floor and you had slipped. Klaus had rushed over to you and caught you in bridal style, immediately looking at your stomach for any signs of injury to the baby and you. He then looked to Rebekah and Elijah who are smiling. 

“What are you two so happy about? Y/n could have hurt herself,” Klaus said. 

“Oh, she’s fine. She and the baby would’ve healed,” Rebekah said. 

“No, seriously, guys. Stop leaving shit on the floor, okay?” You asked. 

Rebekah nodded, “Alright, alright. Sorry.”

Klaus let you go, his hands lingering against the small of your back. You weren't sure if it was the baby or his touch, but your stomach flipped. You leaned into him a little, wanting to be close to him for as long as you could. He was unbelievable warm, which was nice for you and the baby. 

Elijah and Rebekah noticed your body language and smirked at each other. It was a wonder how you two didn’t notice each other’s love and care for each other. The both decided it was time for the two to have a talk with each of them, to try and push them to get together farther. 

“Klaus, I need to see you for a second,” Elijah said. 

Klaus moved away from you, leaving you cold and a little lonely. Klaus smiled goodbye at you before going in the next room with Elijah. Rebekah went up to you, a cheeky grin on her face. 

“What are you and Elijah up to?” You asked. 

“Nothing, nothing. I just wanted to talk to you about Klaus,” Rebekah said. 

“Okay. What about him?” You asked. 

“You’re in love with him, right?” Rebekah asked. 

Your eyes went wide and your face flushed. “Wha-What?”

Rebekah smirked, “So you do. Why haven’t you done anything about it?”

You shrugged, “I don’t know. He only sees me as the mother of his child, another person to call a friend. We are no where near romance right now.”

“You’d be surprised to hear that you’re wrong,” Rebekah said. 

You furrowed your brows. “What do you mean?”  

“He's in love with you, too, Y/n,” Rebekah said. 

“He’s not,” you scoffed. 

“Yes, he is. Do you not see the way he looks at you? The way he cares for you and the baby? How every time you come into the room, a smile is immediately on his face and his aura is brighter?” Rebekah listed off examples. 

The longer she went on, the more your face got red. “Ye-Yeah, I guess. You think he’s really in love with me?” You asked, hope shining in your eyes. 

“Yes. Confront him. If I’m wrong, I owe you a lifetime of favours, okay? But if I’m right, I get a say in your baby’s name,” Rebekah grinned. 

You rolled your eyes with a smile. “Fine. Deal. I’ll confront him tonight after dinner.”

“Great! Well, looks like my work is done. I better see you two trying for another baby after dinner,” Rebekah smirked and winked at you. 

“Bex!” You exclaimed with a laugh before she went upstairs. 

A few moments later, Klaus came back from the living room. 

“So, what did Elijah want with you?” You asked. 

“Oh, just to talk about what we are going to do with Sophie, that’s all. How about you and Rebekah?” Klaus asked. 

“Just stuff about the baby,” you answered. 

“Fun. Well, ready for dinner?” Klaus asked. 

You nodded and sat down at the kitchen table, watching Klaus cook for you. You watched him in silence. You also ate dinner in silence. You two had a feeling that whatever Klaus’s siblings talked to you two about was the same thing, but you two were just too shy to say anything. But as Klaus walked you up the stairs to bed, you had stopped to ask him the burning question you had in your brain all night. 

“Are you… are you in love with me?” You asked him, looking him straight in the eyes. 

Klaus’s eyes widened in surprise. He coughed and averted your gaze. “Maybe.”

Your lips upturned into a small smile. “I’m in love with you, too, Nik.”

Klaus looked up to you, a smile appearing on his face. “Really?”

You nodded and bit your lip. “Yeah.”

Klaus leaned towards you, snaking his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. His other hand went up to your cheek, cupping it. You nuzzled into his hand, your own hands going to cup the sides of his face. You looked deep into his dark-blue eyes, getting lost in them. You two found yourselves leaning into each other, your lips eventually meeting. 

Your eyes closed in an instant, pressing yourself up against him more. Klaus’s hold on your waist tightened and he deepened the kiss by dragging his tongue on your bottom lip. You opened your mouth quickly, giving him easy access to explore your mouth. 

You two felt sparks fly around you two, both of your guys’s skin lighting on fire from each other's touch. Even though you two had kissed before, this time was more special. Almost monumental. 

While you two were sharing your special moment, Elijah and Rebekah were watching with proud smiles on their faces. 

“Such a wonderful couple,” Rebekah sighed. 

“Yes. The big bad and little wolf,” Elijah smiled. 

————

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[definitelyseven]

hurts so good | eight

summary: growing up with Park Jinyoung was never easy and things are about to get worse when you’ve been asked to marry him

one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine | ten | eleven | twelve - final |

You barely slept last night knowing where Jinyoung was. He didn’t come home after leaving the bar with Jisoo and you didn’t see him at breakfast this morning. 

You buried your hands in your face as you gently massaged your eyes to reduce the swelling. You don’t know how much longer you can take this anymore. 

It was killing you.

“Y/N,” you hear someone call you. You looked up from your hands and see Chaewon. You immediately flashed her a smile.

“Chaewon, what’s up? Please sit,” you offered. She smiled back and takes a seat on the couch. “Is everything okay?”

“You tell me,” she sighed rubbing her belly.

“What do you mean?” you asked, taking a seat next to her. 

“We’re friends, right?” she stuttered. 

“What? Of course, we are!” you exclaimed. “Why would you ask that?” 

“Then why?” Chaewon asked as her eyes started to water. “Why, my husband? Why does it have to be Jaebum?”

“I’m not understanding...” 

“You can pick anyone, why does it have to be Jaebum? I’m pregnant...” she questioned while rubbing her belly. 

“W-wait. I think there’s a misunderstanding. We were only pretending to piss Jinyoung off,” you explained.

“No,” she quickly dismissed. “You were pretending. Jaebum wasn’t and you knew that. You know how he feels about you,” she began to whimper. “You could pretend with anyone and it would piss Jinyoung off. Why did it have to be him, his brother?”

“I’m so sorry,” you apologized. “I knew it would hurt even more if it was with Jaebum. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Why can’t you be happy with what you have?” she accused. 

You looked at her confused. “Happy? What part of my marriage is happy?” you argued with her. 

“So you had to ruin mine because you’re unhappy?” she continued to accuse. 

“I didn’t ruin your marriage nor do I intend to,” you assured her. “Jaebum’s always been like a brother to me.”

“I saw you with him in the wine cellar. I heard what you said to Jinyoung.”

“It’s not like that. Nothing happened,” you tried to explain. “Our relationship is different. We’ve known each other since we were kids.”

“So what? My relationship with him isn’t as strong as yours?” 

You could tell she was panicking. You knew how much she cared about her marriage - it was her lifeline. 

“No, no. That’s not what I’m saying-”

“That’s what you implied,” she interrupted. Your head was pounding from the lack of sleep and you were saying all the wrong words.

“Okay, okay. Calm down,” you tell her. “I’m sorry.”

“Please Y/N. I’m begging you,” she said getting on her knees. “Jaebum means everything to me. I can’t have a broken marriage,” she whimpered. 

“Oh my god. Please get up,” you said trying to help her to her feet. “Jaebum and I will always be friends. I promise,” you assured her. 

“Promise?” she asked again with her eyes all red. You nodded assuring her once again. She finally gets up on her knees. “Ow...my stomach,” she complains.

“Chaewon?” you called. “Are you okay?” She shakes her head as she clutches onto her stomach. “Here, sit down.”

“Something’s wrong,” she continues to complain. “I need to go to the hospital,” she whines in pain, her face turning white. You quickly grabbed your phone to call the ambulance. 

You paced back and forth outside the operation room. Chaewon was rushed into surgery right when she got to the hospital. You immediately called Jaebum and then Jinyoung.

“Y/N!” Jaebum calls running towards you.

“Oh my god, Jae...” you sobbed once you saw him. “I’m so sorry. This is all my fault,” you whimpered.

“What happened?” he asked, calmly. You continued to cry, unable to speak. “Y/N, what happened?” he asked again, holding onto your face to look at him. 

“She knows about us,” you confessed. “She heard me talking to Jinyoung and she thinks something happened between us.”

Jaebum lets out a sigh, rubbing your arm up and down to calm you down. “It’s not your fault.”

“It is...” you continued to cry. “Oh god, what if something happens to her? To the baby? I’ll never forgive myself,” you whimpered. Jaebum pulls you in for a hug.

“Nothing will happen. Don’t worry,” he assures you. 

“Let go of my wife.” 

The both of you turned around to see Jinyoung. “Jinyoung,” you cried out, eyes watery, nose runny.

“Hey baby it’s okay,” Jinyoung comforted, pulling you into his arms. The three of you waited patiently outside. Jaebum was trying to remain calm but you knew he was just as scared as you were. 

“Mr. Im,” the doctor greeted, walking out of the operation room. The three of you rushed over. “I told you your wife’s pregnancy was unstable and that she shouldn’t be stressed out. After the last visit to the hospital, I warned you to watch her carefully. I’m so sorry. We did everything we could but we couldn’t save the baby.”

Your heart sinks to your stomach. You did this. This was all your fault. 

“I shouldn’t go inside,” you tell Jaebum. 

“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s not your fault,” he tries to convince. “She needs us to be with her right now. Come on.”

“He’s right. Let’s go in,” Jinyoung says, pushing you inside the room. You kept your head down as you walked into Chaewon’s room. Her eyes and nose were bright red and her lips were pale. You felt guilty seeing her like this. You did this to her and Jaebum and nothing you say was going to change that.

“What is she doing here?” Chaewon yells once she sees you. “You did this to me,” she blamed. 

“I’m so sorry,” you sobbed. 

“It’s not her fault,” Jaebum defends. “Your pregnancy was unstable to begin with,” he continues to explain.

“Stop!” she screams. “Stop defending her! I’m the one who lost the baby,” she continues to yell. Chaewon grabs one of the pillows and throws it at your face. 

“We understand you’re upset but don’t take it out on Y/N,” Jinyoung defends while checking to see if you were injured. 

“Do you know what she did with your brother?” she accuses. “She’s fooling around with him and you are still defending her! She did this to me!”

"Enough!”

The four of you turned around and see your father-in-law. You gulped, afraid he had heard your conversation.

"How dare you disgrace me?” he spats at you. You kept your head down, knowing he was talking to you. He stops in front of you. “Look at me,” he demanded. You lift your head up to look at him. Your eyes immediately meet his. He was angry. He lifts his hand and slaps you across the face. 

“Father!” Jaebum and Jinyoung shouts rushing to your side. You held onto your cheek rubbing it gently to relieve the pain. Jinyoung pulls you towards him before Jaebum gets a chance to. He turns your face to one side to check on your cheek. 

“Are you out of your mind?” your father-in-law ask. “I don’t care how unhappy you are but you do not jeopardize our family name for your own gains, you hear me?”

“Father it’s not like that,” Jaebum tries to explain. 

You hear Chaewon scoff, “Stop defending her, Jae. I’m your wife.”

“Nothing happened between them, Father. It was a misunderstanding,” Jinyoung continued to explain. 

“S-stop,” you sobbed. “Stop defending me,” you said turning to Jaebum and Jinyoung. “It’s my fault. Let them blame me. I’m the reason this happened.”

“Don’t think that saying that will make everything better, make me forgive you. I will never forgive you,” Chaewon glares at you.

“Get out of my sight,” your father-in-law said. You nodded slowly before leaving with Jinyoung. 

[nakamoto-aesthetics]

Drunk | l.hc

synopsis: you and haechan are enemies but turn into lovers basically.

pairing: enemy!haechan x fem!reader

genre: enemies to lovers au, angst, fluff

warning: mentions of drinking

word count: 1.6k

one, two, three, four, five shots

you were toasted. five shots was a huge mistake.

you were beginning to regret downing that many shots. you were with the boys and you all made the executive decision to get drunk. bad mistake. you were so quiet compared to your usual bubbly self; it was like time slowed, everything and everyone was slow. your body felt like it was floating on a boat; it was so numb and the lights were so bright, you couldn’t look around you for more than 3 seconds before you had to look back down. your head was spinning, you couldn’t concentrate on anything. all you could think about was your head spinning.

you made the decision of getting up from your seat with extra force and going to the bathroom. on the way there you couldn’t help but notice the way you were stumbling. you had to hold onto the wall to continue walking, following the route to the bathroom. your head was down toward the ground, your body was sliding against the wall all the way up until you have to change walls because the door was across from you; with extra momentum you successfully push yourself off the wall and launch yourself over to the door.

unfortunately, just as you were moving toward the door, the door was opening and before you could comprehend it, you collided with something hard, arms were wrapped around you and your nose was picking up an all-too-familiar scent. you knew this cologne from anywhere but your head couldn’t pin point it at all. you were so confused.

“did you lose your way?” the voice of a male announces, startling you a little. you knew this voice too, who is this person?

“no, I’m at the… right place” you drunkenly say and make a fist with the guys shirt before looking up to see who the familiar stranger was.

that’s when your eyes meet with his. “haechan?” you have to blink multiple times before it finally sinks in your head.

“hey y/n” he smirks. he wasn’t drunk, in fact, you couldn’t smell any hint of alcohol on his breath; all you could smell was the red bull he religiously drank.

“get off of me” you attempt to pull away but he only hugged you tighter. you tried everything in your power to get out of his grasp but nothing worked, you were powerless against him, especially because of the state you were in, at this moment. you eventually gave up and accepted it, too out of breath and tired to continue on. you rested your body against his, trying to catch your breath.

“good girl” he rubbed your back.

“what do you want haechan?” you felt yourself instantly sober up after struggling against him. if anyone could bring your mood down it was him. he knew just how to push your buttons and make you angry. he always had to do better than you too, all of it made you want to vomit. he made you want to vomit.

“I want what I want”

“what?” you squeeze your eyes shut and shake your head. “what does that even mean”

“it means that…” he leans down closer to your ear. “I want a kiss”

you immediately push him away, this time doing so successfully, making him stumble back a bit. you shake your head and turn around, walking away but not far enough because his hand wraps around your wrist and pulls you toward him; this time your back slamming into his chest. his arms wrap around your waist and his breath hits the back of your neck, sending chills down your spine.

“y/n please” he whispers. you could hear the slight desperation in his voice, unlike the previous times he’s talked to you. you’d never seen or heard him talk like this, he always kept up a front, never showing his weaknesses, so why was this moment different?

“haechan you don’t even like me what are you doing?” you breathily whisper.

“what do you mean I don’t like you?” you feel his body tense up from behind you.

“I mean, you bully me constantly, you push my buttons, and on top of all that you always have to outdo me in something, it’s like everything is a competition with you” you huff in annoyance.

“what- no y/n you have it all wrong. oh my god why didn’t I realize sooner, I didn’t mean to make you upset or bully you. I just wanted…”

“wanted what?”

“…wanted you to see me. I just wanted you to see me, I wanted you to acknowledge me y/n. I wanted you to think I was smart and cool and thats why I always tried to do better than you, and I guess that’s also why I picked on you or bullied you. I just didn’t know how to express how I felt about you; but that is in no way an excuse. I’m truly sorry. I really didn’t mean to hurt you y/n” he turns you around in his arms so then he can see your face. your eyes flick up to his; they were filled with hurt and concern. you could also see the worry in his eyebrows, they were knitted creating a deep groove, worry undoubtedly written all over them. this was enough for your breath to get caught in your throat.

“please forgive me” he positioned his hands on either side of your cheeks, tilting your face up.

“haechan…” you whisper.

“I know, i’m so so sorry. In fact, I really like you…” his eyes shift off to the side but your eyes stay put on his. “but it’s fine if you don’t feel the same, I wouldn’t expect you to, especially becau-”

he doesn’t finish because you stand on your tippy toes and ball his shirt into a fist, reaching up to him and connecting your lips together.

blank.

that’s what haechans brain was. it was empty. he was so caught off guard it was actually pretty funny. he didn’t expect you to kiss him willingly, in fact, he was actually gonna forget about the kiss because he didn’t think you would agree to it, and especially because he thought that there was no way you liked him; but that wasn’t the case.

haechan lips began to move against yours, keeping the same pace as you. you felt fireworks ignite in your stomach, something you never thought you could feel with him. meanwhile, haechan felt butterflies erupt in his stomach, he felt so energetic in this moment; as if his body was going into a sugar rush. he’d dreamt of this very moment for way too long and that was showing in the way his heart felt like it was going to explode out of his chest. he could taste the alcohol on your breath but he didn’t mind, all he wanted was you.

he backs you up against the wall being as gentle as can be; as if you were so fragile, you could break at any moment. he’s kissing you so intimately but at the same time so gently and you would be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying it, your hands traveled up his arms and around the back of his neck, pulling him closer. his hands trailed down to your waist and he rested them there. he barely did anything but this action was enough to shoot an extra string of fireworks in your stomach. you didn’t know what it meant but you did know that you liked the feeling in your stomach.

“what the fuck?”

both your heads snap to the voice and see an intoxicated mark lee standing a few inches away from you two.

“don’t you guys hate each other?” marks eyes were almost bulging out of his head, he couldn’t believe his eyes.

“uh, actually…” haechan chuckles and looks at you.

“it was a misunderstanding the entire time” you look back at him and bite your lip softly, equipping it with a soft smile.

“um okay… well don’t let me stop you guys” he surrenders his hands, shaking his head in confusion and walks past you guys, towards the bedrooms. it becomes quiet once again; you and haechan are left gazing into each other’s eyes, both your hearts beating in synchronization for the other.

“so…”

“so…”

“so… what is this gonna be?” you ask, leaning your head back against the wall, still looking into his eyes.

“well y/n, I don’t want to be enemies or friends, I know that very much” he whispers and mindlessly taps his index finger against your hip. he may’ve not known he was doing it but you did, it was like the heat of his hands were burning through your clothes and onto your skin. everywhere he touched left a burning feeling so much that you could feel all the places he had touched in the last 20 minutes. his touch lingered in a way nobody else’s did; it was the type of burning that you never wanted to stop feeling, it was addicting and possibly your new favorite feeling.

“me either… believe it or not I think you’re really attractive haechan; even when we were feuding all those times I thought you were hot” you breathily chuckle. a smile works it’s way onto his face and his cheeks visibly flush.

“I think you’re attractive too y/n-ah” he smiles like an idiot. his heart was so warm and it was all because of you. he finally felt complete.

“thank you… haechan?”

“yes?”

“my head is starting to spin again and i’m sleepy, can you can tuck me in tonight?” you say with a slight pout and bright eyes, the action was small but it was more than enough for haechan.

“of course I can princess, your wish is my command” he moves away from you so then he can pick you up bridal style.

“y/n?”

“yes haechannie?”

“do you have any time for cuddles?”

and that’s when you knew he was the one.

NCT Masterlist

[l4verq]

almost yours | s. r & b.b

pre-serum steve x reader, bucky x reader

in which you’re sure you’ll fall for bucky soon enough

warnings : angst, mentions of death, war, fights

fic : oneshot?

masterlist

|| gif by @go-fandom-imagines ||

-

“I can do this all day.”

You roll your eyes cause you know he can’t.

“No, he can’t.” You trudge in between the filth, your peep-toe heels doing little to help you walk.

On closer inspection, the man is clearly intoxicated. He has his hands squared up, body swaying slightly but firmly planted infront of Steve.

You know he’s already had a few punches in judging by the bruises on his knuckles and the cuts on Steve’s face.

Steve mutters a silent curse as he sees you walking up to them.

Why did you always have to see him in such a pathetic state like this?

You give a stern look at him like always and he can’t meet your eyes every damn time.

“Who are you?” The man slurs, the smell of alcohol almost suffocating you.

“His friend.” You lift your neck a little higher as you meet the man’s eyes, your heart beating out of your chest.

Friend. Of course, that’s what he is to you.

“Y/N.” Steve steps in between, shielding you from the man.

You’re about to give him a piece of your mind when you’re shoved back roughly, falling into a pile of trash.

“A broad should know better than to meddle in men’s business.” The man wags his finger before repeatedly hitting Steve who’s yelling at you to run.

You hastily unstrap your heels and fling it across with a smack against the man’s back.

But the punches don’t stop.

“Stop, you stupid geezer.” You scream, grabbing his hair and thrashing your arms around, hoping you get a solid punch in.

“Hey!” The man slips away from your grasp as Bucky grabs him and pulls him away from the both of you.

“Pick on somebody your size.” He snarls, ramming his arm into the man’s body, making him double over in pain.

The man staggers off and Bucky turns to face the both of you, anger evident in his eyes.

“I don’t want to hear it.” He objects as soon as you open your mouth.

“Steve, you good?”

“I’ll live.”

You two share a sheepish smile as Bucky helps him up.

“Okay, just so you know, this thing you guys have with getting beat up in alleys is stupid and moronic.” Bucky huffs, hands on his hips, foot tapping the ground impatiently.

“I was just trying to help Steve.”

“I didn’t need any help.”

“Says the guy who’s just had his ass handed to him.”

“Okay, funtime’s over. You have an aptitude test today, we can’t be late.” Bucky intervenes, retrieving your heel.

“Go to the hospital!” You shriek as Steve limps his way out.

He never stayed. He never could.

Because he didn’t like his thoughts when he’d see you and Bucky together.

Bucky sighs, kneeling on the ground, with your heel in hand.

He glances at you for approval before strapping on your heel for you.

“Thank you.” You mumble, a dull ache spreading throughout your elbows as the adrenaline subsides.

“Are you hurt anywhere?” He asks, concern in his eyes.

This is when you hate yourself the most. Disgusted with yourself because you can’t bring yourself to accept the unconditional love that he has for you. Disgusted that you keep telling yourself you’ll fall for him soon enough.

“I’m fine.” You lie, something fairly common to you.

-

“Still mad?” Steve sits next to you, hands shoved in his jacket.

You notice he did go to the hospital, judging by the white bandage on his hand peeking out.

“Maybe.”

He smiles but it quickly turns into a grimace, the cuts on his lips still healing.

“Heard you got in.” You continue, transfixed on his blue eyes.

“Had to see the look on your father’s face. Priceless.”

The two of you burst out laughing, his face contorted in a mix of pain and laughter making you laugh even more.

Your father, Colonel Chester Philips had made it clear on several occasions that Steve would never make it in the army despite your best attempts to convince him otherwise.

“Don’t forget about me when you get all buffed up and go off fighting scary men.” You joke, half serious.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

There it starts again. The stupid fluttering in your heart as you dare to think his gaze at you right now means anything more. And the guilt that floods in right after.

“You two take care of each other.” You both look over at Bucky waving at you from the registration office.

Childhood friends, you’d never known life without the two of them. And now both of them were leaving to possibly never return.

“We’ll be back before you know it.” He gives a soft smile because he knows how much you hate that he’s going too. How much you hate the war. How much you hate that your father’s never home.

He’d made up his mind about this years ago when he realised an asthmatic 90 pound man wasn’t exactly the ladies’ man but the butt of the joke and an easy prey for bullies.

And he didn’t like bullies.

But right now, the way you’re looking at him, his heart wavers a little.

“We are all set to go. You have been assigned to Camp Lehigh.” Bucky arrives, waving a form at Steve.

Your heart drops as it sinks in that they have to leave now. Tears spring to your eyes which you try to blink away.

“I’ll write you whenever I can.” Steve gets up, eyes glossy.

“You’d better.” You smile at him, an uncomfortable ache growing in your heart.

You almost give in to embracing him but the rock on your left hand weighs you down.

He lingers around for a while, perhaps thinking the same. But, he gives a smile, walking away towards the office.

“He’ll be okay,” Bucky reassures you, placing his hands on your shoulders, “Steve’s a tough cookie.”

You look up at your fiance, a lump forming in your throat.

“I’m going to miss you two.” You bite down on your quivering lip as a single tear trickles down your cheek.

God, were you beautiful, he thinks, gently wiping your tears away.

He hated leaving you, each time hurting quite possibly even more than the previous.

If you’d just ask him to stay, he’d leave everything right then and there all for you.

But you never do.

He leans in and you think he doesn’t catch the slight clench of your jaw but he does, everytime.

Each time, he rationalises it in his head, chiding himself for overanalysing.

Cause it’d hurt to think otherwise.

A ghost of a kiss on your forehead you barely feel as you force yourself to swallow the growing lump.

-

The mornings were tolerable.

A few chores here and there. Breakfast if you felt like it. Maybe drop by the salon, have a little chat with the girls.

You kept busy, finding faults in your own cleaning everytime. A spot you definitely missed while cleaning yesterday, you immediately attend to it, scrubbing away.

Sometimes, your father stopped by during the late afternoons, carrying a bag of fresh produce from the local market.

He’d little to say about Steve’s training, gruffly humming whenever you enquired.

Then, you’d have dinner with him, pretending that it wasn’t awkward having an empty seat across you that once belonged to your mother.

The last time you saw your father smile was during your engagement to Bucky. He’d pulled you in a tight embrace, wordless.

It wasn’t like this before.

He actually stayed home, smiled often and had a spark in his eyes.

But after your mother passed, it felt like he was just going through the motions everyday. Buried himself in more work, drowned himself in alcohol somedays.

You couldn’t blame him. You were no better, bottling up your own feelings.

But you wished he’d remember he still had you.

The nights were unbearable.

More often than not, you’d wake up in a cold sweat, heart still racing from the nightmares that plagued your mind.

Then, the worries’d take over.

The war was unforgiving and cruel and you’d pray every night that they wouldn’t fall victim to it.

The shiny rock on your hand catches your eye as it glistens in the moonlight. It’s a thin, silver band with a delicate diamond on top.

You felt like an impostor wearing it.

But, you’d gotten used to it. You’d just remember your mother’s wish, the way Bucky’s face broke out into a smile when you said yes and your father’s brief moment of happiness.

It didn’t help when you remembered Steve.

You don’t really know what you were expecting when you gave him the news. Maybe, you wanted to see if he’d be affected by it? If he felt the same way for you as you did him?

“I’m happy for you two.”

He had the biggest smile on his face as he tugged around with Bucky, teasing him.

But his eyes. You could swear you saw a flicker of sadness in them for just a split second or maybe you were just delusional, projecting your own feelings.

Most probably, the latter.

You pull the neatly folded up letter from your drawer, opening it for the umpeethn time.

Skimming over the scrawlings, your eyes land at the very end where Steve promises to return in the next few days.

You’d received the letter three weeks ago.

Your father’d informed you that Steve’d agreed to an experiment, where he’d be injected with a serum that would apparently make him a super soldier of some sorts.

“Is it safe?”

The grim silence that followed twisted your insides up into knots.

“We don’t know.” Your father grunted, the greying on his hair more prominent.

The following week he came bearing news of Steve’s successful transformation. That he’d grown two feet taller and more than a hundred pounds heavier.

You muttered a silent thank you to God as the coil in your stomach loosened.

“Do you want to see them?” Your father looks up at you from the table, eyes not leaving his newspaper.

He couldn’t bring himself to meet your eyes. Not after he’d failed as a father. He’d done a lot wrong but the worst was dissappointing you each time you welcomed him back with a warm meal and forgiving eyes.

You nod, a small smile breaking out at the thought of them.

One of the few privileges that came with being the daughter of a Colonel was to be able to go to the Army base closed off to everyday people.

That evening, Bucky arrived, daisies in hand cause he knows how much you like them.

“For my daisy.” He’d say everytime, a grin plastered on his face as you’d roll your eyes, unable to hold back a smile.

You carefully place the letter back into your drawer and crawl under your blanket, hoping to cram in some sleep.

Travelling to Camp Lehigh would take the entire day on a train and you could never really fall asleep anywhere but your own bed.

-

Envy.

The green eyed monster that doesn’t seem to leave your shoulders as your gaze flickers over to them.

A total of atleast six different women have made their rounds, tossing their hair and giggling when he leans in to say something in their ears cause the music’s a little too loud.

But who could blame them?

Steve stood tall at an impressive 6.1 feet, a far cry from the 5.4 he used to be. Though clothed, anyone could see the mass of muscles bulging out, the suit straining whenever he raised his arm.

The first time you saw him, you were speechless.

Bucky had emphasized on the drastic change in Steve’s appearance but you were still taken aback, mouth gaping like a fish out of water.

Everything about him was so different yet his eyes still had that twinkle to them that you always swooned over.

You down your fourth shot in a row, throat burning.

Did she really have to feel his shield and kn-

“Dance with me?” Bucky gives a coy smile, eyebrow quirked up.

Taking his extended hand, he chuckles as you wobble sightly while getting up.

“Someone had a lot to drink.” He comments, guiding you to the dance floor.

A hand slightly above your waist, the other holding your own, Bucky was always a great dancer.

You always let him take the lead as he swayed you back and forth, always managing to expertly avoid stepping on your dress.

You start to regret the alcohol, your head spinning a little.

He seems to notice and lulls down to a gentle pace, holding you tight. You lean into his chest, breathing in the sweet musk that’s just so, Bucky.

He calls your name, barely above a whisper, which you probably wouldn’t have heard if you weren’t so close to him.

You hum in reply, head now leaning on his shoulder.

“Remember that time you got mad at me,”

“and you came crying to me, begging for forgiveness.” You finish his sentence, chuckling.

A throaty laugh rumbles from his chest as well.

“And we promised that we’d never lie to each other anymore.”

You lift your head, to see a soft smile playing on his lips.

“It’s time you kept that promise.” His eyes trails over to Steve.

The low tune that crooned on fades out as a ringing in your ears take over. You could only stare at him, paralysed.

It takes him everything he has in him to stay composed. But he has to do this.

“Tell him, before it’s too late.” He whispers, an urgency in his voice.

You shake your head, tears threatening to spill any moment.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to worry about me.” He reassures you, taking your hands in his.

Shuffling bodies bump into you as you look away, incapable of holding his stare.

If only you’d known it would be the last time you saw him.

-

It’s the last thing he wants to do.

But he tells you anyway that he has to leave. That he needs to go.

Ever since Bucky fell to his death, Steve knew nothing but revenge. All he could really think about was taking down Hydra.

When you found out about Bucky, you’d done the same thing you always did.

Bottle your grief, pushing it down and down and keep busy.

Steve knew this too so he was patient, never poked around too much, lent a shoulder to cry on.

He often blamed himself, the event still haunting him at night, his own mind locking him in an endless tunnel.

But you’d always be there, at the end of it, a dim light that led him out.

“Just don’t die on me.” You whisper, hand grasping onto his jacket as he turned to leave.

This time, you don’t think twice before embracing him.

You want to keep him right there, safe with you.

And he probably would stay if you asked enough but you know he has to do this.

You just wanted to be selfish for once.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He wraps his hands around your waist, allowing himself to bask in your arms for a while.

As he pulls away, his face is so close that you can see the golden flecks splattered throughout his blue eyes, forming a psychedelic pattern that seemed to only hypnotise you.

He leans in before stopping himself, eyes flickering down to your slightly parted lips.

You can’t help but stare at his too.

But, the both of you awkwardly pull away, perhaps both appalled by their own selfish thoughts.

He couldn’t do this to his bestfriend ; you’d always be Bucky’s, not his.

As he leaves with the soldiers, the coil in your stomach tightens even more, heart sinking when he fades out of view.

You immediately station yourself at the air traffic controller office, where you man a radio transceiver.

It’s a large room filled with machines and a screen that displays the plane that he took.

It’s a long, long while before the transceiver crackles, a familiar voice blaring off it.

“Steve?” You grab it, almost jumping out of your seat.

The screen shows the plane heading north, further beyond the grid.

You think he called your name too but it’s barely audible.

Then, you hear it.

The whistling of the wind. The rattling of the controls.

The screen blares a warning when the plane doesn’t seem to stop going down.

“Steve, get out of there now!” You beg as it sinks in that he doesn’t plan to.

“Y/N, I’m sorry.” His voice breaks.

“No, come back to me, please.” The room grows smaller and smaller as the air suffocates you.

A distorted reply arrives.

Your heart breaks at the thought of him all alone in that plane, headed for his death.

“I never really said thank you for all the times you beat up my bullies.”

You smile, swallowing the lump in your throat.

A surge of courage runs through your body as you say the words you’ve wanted to say to him ever since you discovered what love even was.

“Steve, I love you.”

But the line goes dead.

-

a/n : idk wtf this is, it was better in my head lol, might fk around and make this into a mini series😬 also tfatws🤑😈

[tsumwriter]

Second Best (Kuroo x Reader)

Kuroo angst where I lowkey made him a dick... sorry Kuroo stans 

Objects were being miscellaneously thrown in the air as chairs were being knocked down while you and Kuroo spit out spiteful words that neither of you really meant. 

You were fuming but really all you wanted to do was cry. 

You were tired from these fights where Kuroo would just try to get a rise out of you and vice versa. 

Typically, they were over the dumbest things like you forgetting to put your used mug in the sink or Kuroo forgetting to put the toilet seat down. They were usually dumb things like this, but today was different. 

A few hours before the fight, you had come home excited to tell Kuroo about your big promotion that you had been offered. 

You were currently a recent graduate and intern at a fashion company in Tokyo, but if you accepted, you would be a formal employee of the Paris branch. 

Of course you were going to decline, what with the recent engagement and the upcoming wedding, but you wanted to tell him anyway because it was a big deal to you. But after today, you weren’t sure if Kuroo was worth staying for. 

You had made Kuroo’s favorite meal to share the exciting news, but he had come home late without a phone call or even a text, and when you brought it up he exploded on you. 

‘Do I need to tell you everything? God, you’re my fiance not my mom.’ 

‘Well if you just told me the fucking truth then I wouldn’t need to ask every time!’ 

The saddest part was, he didn’t need to tell you where he was or who he was with because you already knew the answer to that: hanging out with his ex, Kozume Kenma. 

Kenma always seemed to be at the center of all of your fights. No matter how it started, the end was Kenma because no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t be Kenma. 

Today was no different. 

“I was with Kenma because I was trying to get away from you!” 

As soon as Kuroo spit out those words, the air in the room thickened and the temperature dropped, along with your heart. 

Each word was like a dagger to your heart and you fell into the couch in defeat. 

At first, Kuroo felt a sick satisfaction because he felt like he had won the argument. But when he saw you hugging your knees tightly while looking away from him, he knew that he had taken it too far. 

You weren’t even crying, you were just completely dejected and so was Kuroo. 

He plopped down on the other side of the couch and the only sound in the room was the creak of the couch as his weight fell onto it. 

The silence surrounding the two of you was suffocating but neither of you wanted to say the inevitable… This had to end, but no one wanted to end it. 

But you were stronger than Kuroo. You knew this. 

Kuroo Tetsuro was still in love with his ex-boyfriend and refused to admit it while you were already coming to terms with the fact that you were always second place. At first, you thought that the engagement would change him but eventually you realized that it was just you foolishly in love. 

So you broke the news to him, the ‘exciting’ news that had started this entire ordeal. 

Chin on your knees, you quietly muttered, “I was offered a promotion.” 

Kuroo’s eyes widened and he turned to you. This is what you wanted to talk about. This was why you were so excited when he came home… And then he blew up on you. 

He wanted to congratulate you. To hold you in his arms as he told you what a wonderful job you were doing but seeing you look so broken, because of what he said filled him with so much guilt that he couldn’t move. 

So he just waited for you to continue and hoped that you would forgive him. 

Meanwhile, you were looking down at the ground as you were contemplating your next words. 

A tearful breath escaped your lips as you continued. 

“It’s a textile designing position in Paris and I’m taking it.” 

You looked at the man to your left and observed his shocked expression. 

“I’m tired of this, Tetsuro- tired of us… Of you acting like you’re in love with me when we both know it was never me.” 

Kuroo reached out to pull you into his embrace, but you stood up and turned your back towards him, facing the window looking out into the city.

“(y/n)... babe, I can change. I’m sorry.” 

You laughed bitterly as you felt the salty tears falling down your face. Shaking your head, you wore a sad smile on your face before you turned to the now crying man on the couch. 

Kuroo was hunched over with his face in his hands, elbows resting on his knees. His body was shaking as he sobbed silently. 

You walked over to him and knelt on the ground next to him. 

When he felt your body next to his, he looked up with tears in his eyes. 

“I swear, it’s just a stage, baby. Everyone falls out of love but we’ll be okay. We’ll be oka-”

You shushed him gently and kissed the tears on his cheeks for the last time. 

“Tetsuro, you can’t fall out of love if you were never in love.” 

Kuroo furrowed his brows in confusion to which you laughed softly. God, he was in so much denial. 

You brought a hand to move the hair that was covering his eyes and cupped his cheek. 

“I have to go.” 

He shook his head furiously as he watched you take off your ring.

“No, please! Say the word and I’ll even cut off Kenma.” 

A tired sigh escaped you as you set the ring down on the coffee table. There was no truth in his words. This was just him saying anything and everything to get you to stay but you couldn’t do it anymore.

“Please don’t hurt me more than you already have.” 

Kuroo blinked away his tears as he watched you walk towards your shared bedroom. 

He was crying and his mouth was still spewing out apologies but some part of him felt the slightest bit of relief. 

‘I’m a monster,’ he thought to himself as he chased after you. 

-- several years later 

It was a Saturday, and you were looking out the huge window enjoying the crisp morning air on your face. 

With Paris fashion week behind you, work was slowing down, and you felt like you could finally breathe a little. Weekends finally felt like weekends and you could do things like staring out your window for no reason. Now you could finally go to the cafe you were meaning to check out, try the new rooftop bar, and visit the wineries. 

As you were going down the mental list of things you wanted to do, you heard your phone ringing.

It was an unknown number with a Japanese area code. 

‘Probably work,’ you thought. 

Since headquarters were in Japan, it was common to get random phone calls from Tokyo. It was a little odd that they were calling you on a Saturday, but you just assumed there was a client emergency so you picked up. 

“Hello?” 

“Hello? Is this (l/n) (f/n)?” 

Your heart stopped and you felt your breath hitch. How had he gotten your number? You’d gotten a new European number and only gave it to a select few in Japan. 

“Kuroo-kun, how’d you get my number?” 

This time, it was Kuroo’s turn to react. 

It had been years since the breakup, but for some reason it felt foreign, almost painful, hearing you call him by his surname. But after what he put you through, who the fuck was he to dictate what you should call him now? 

He was just glad that your voice held no venom towards him. 

Maybe Kenma was right- maybe you didn’t hate him as much as he hated himself for hurting you. 

“Hi (y/n), it’s been a while, huh? I got your number from Hitomi-chan, had to beg her for it though.” 

You let out a soft laugh that contrasted the pang in your chest as you tried to hold back the tears that threatened to fall. You had moved on- built an entirely new life without him, but hearing him say your name made you feel weak. But you had come too far to come crashing down again. 

“Yeah… A few years, right? How’ve you been?” 

Kuroo laughed softly, and you could imagine what he looked like. Eyes squinting the tiniest bit and his mouth turned up into the grin that you loved so much. 

“I’ve been great… Getting married actually.” 

You felt your jaw clench as you searched your brain for appropriate responses. 

It took a few seconds but you eventually responded. 

“Congratulations, that’s really exciting!” 

You flinched at how fake your own enthusiasm sounded but hoped Kuroo wouldn’t pick up. 

“It is… but I wanted to be the first one to tell you. It only felt right to tell you before you found out through instagram or something.” 

A small smile appeared on your face, even after all these years he was still thinking about you. 

“That’s thoughtful of you, Kuroo-kun. Thank you.” 

“It’s the least I can do.”

There was a brief silence before Kuroo called your name again. 

“Hey (y/n)?”

“Yes?” 

You could hear Kuroo swallow loudly and fumble with some kind of fabric, which you assumed was him loosening his tie. 

“I’m really sorry for how things ended. You deserved better and I wish I could’ve been a better man for you.” 

You paused and wiped a few stray tears from your cheeks before responding. 

“What do you want me to say, Tetsuro?” 

Your voice was shaky but so was his. Kuroo was crying too. 

“Nothing… I just want you to know that I loved you. As hard as that must be to believe, I did love you and I don’t regret one moment with you.” 

You covered your mouth and moved the phone away from your face as you tried to control your breathing through the crying. When you could breath somewhat normally, you brought the phone back to your ear. 

“I have to go, Kuroo-kun.” 

He cleared his throat, “Of course, you must be really busy.” 

Your heart was racing as you tried to decide whether or not to tell him that you were still in love with him. That there wasn’t a day that passed by where you didn’t wish you could run back into his arms. That you regretted leaving him and not just settling being his second best. 

“Hey Tetsuro?” 

“Hm?” 

Should you tell him? 

No, you would never tell him. 

“Congratulations again.” 

This was your secret to have and to hold. 

[libraryofloveletters]

Dad & Uncle Luke vs The Troublesome 5

Matt Simmons/Luke Alvez 

for @cmpocsource​‘s cmcocaw2 // day 2 (june 22): favourite platonic ship 

Warnings: none

Category: Fluff

Word Count: 2.1k

Author’s Note: this is my first cm piece in a while so do forgive me if it’s a bit shitty :) also I didn’t proof read so go with it :) 

---

Friday

Kristy headed up to see her grandparents on Thursday afternoon, promising to be back on Saturday, which meant Matt was at home taking care of the kids. He loved when he got to spend time with them because he felt like he missed so much of their lives due to work.

He was used to 4 kids but now that Rose was born, he had his hands full. The two boys, Jake and David were troublemakers. They were never quiet and if they were, you knew something was up. LIly and Chloe loved to colour and draw - on anything they see, including the walls. Rose was only a few months old and she didn’t cause much trouble unless she decided to cry - she had a strong set of lungs.

It was only a little past 6pm when Matt called in reinforcement.

“Hello ?” his voice rang through the phone as Matt rocked Rose back and forth.

“Hey man, I know it’s our weekend off but I was wondering if you’d be able to come over and help me?”

“Is everything okay?” Luke asks him, voice filled with concern.

“I- technically yes. Kristy went up to see her grandparents for the weekend and I've got all of the kids here with me and I underestimated how much work this was gonna be” Matt sighs, setting Rose down gently in the crib.

Luke laughs, already tossing some clothes into a duffle bag. “I’ll be there soon. Do you need me to bring anything ?”

“No, I'm good. Thank you”

They had each other’s backs in the field, surely Luke would have his back now. How hard could it be for 2 grown men to take care of 5 children ? 

Can’t be that hard.

It wasn’t long before Luke showed up at his doorstep, duffle bag over one shoulder and box of pizza in the other hand. 

“I wasn’t sure if you had made dinner yet” Luke smiled at his friend when he opened the door.

“You’re a heaven sent” Matt chuckled, stepping aside and letting Luke come in. “I really appreciate you spending your weekend here. I’m sure you have better things to do with your time.”

“No worries man, really didn’t” He laughs, setting the box on the table. “Where’d you leave Roxy ?” Matt goes to get the plates from the cupboard after calling for the kids.

“Penelope was more than happy to watch her. She also said to tell you that she sends her love” he smiles.

David and Jake were the first two into the kitchen. “Uncle Luke!” they shouted together, tackling him in a hug. The 2 boys were on the floor on top of Luke who was laughing and hugging them.

“Hey guys, I brought pizza.” The boys perked up at the mention of pizza, the way to a boy’s heart really was through their stomach. The twins came running in next, clothes covered in marker and crayon.

“Dinner ?” Lily looked at her dad, he lifted her up onto a chair and then repeated the action with Chloe.

The kids were all seated and eating, Matt and Luke sat on opposite ends on the table. David and Jake were telling them about the fire drill they had at school.

“So we got to go in the truck and press the sirens” David says between chews, Jake nods. “Yeah! And- and we tried to roll the hose and it was so heavy dad!”

Rose begins crying just as Matt goes to answer the boys. He lets out a deep sigh and goes to get up but Luke beats him to it. “I’ve got her, finish eating” he tells him, patting his shoulder as he passes by him and heads up the stairs to her nursery.

Rose was still in her swaddle, crying her lungs out. Luke picked her up carefully and set her on the changing table before undoing her swaddle. He watched as she stretched, her little arms raising above her head.

“Hi mama, how was your nap?” he cooed, smiling at Rose as he picked her back up. He returned downstairs with her in his arms, watching as the kids ran out the back door and into the yard.

“Half an hour! Then I want all of you inside and getting ready for bed!” Matt shouted, propping the door open. Matt turned to see Luke behind him, “hi my love” his hand reached out and rubbed her back softly.

She made a little sound before Luke sat on the couch with her. Matt steps outside when Jake calls him to help set up the soccer net they had. Matt then gets roped into playing with them and next thing you know, it’s 9pm and the 5 of them are running inside as the rain comes down.

“Alright, go wash up and change. I’ll be up to tuck you in” he smiles at the kids as they make their way up the stairs.

It was unusually quiet in the living room, an odd occurrence in the Simmons’ house in general. Matt was just about to go check on Luke and Rose when his phone chimes.

From Kristy: Hey babe, how’s everything going ?

To Kristy: Fine for now, called in reinforcements

From Kristy: Who’d want to get roped into helping you watch the kids for the weekend ?

Matt was texting her back as he made his way over to see Luke passed out flat on the couch with Rose who’s also asleep against his chest. He smiles to himself and snaps a photo for Kristy.

To Kristy: *1 Image Attachment* He did

From Kristy: Oh my god adorable

From Kristy: Give the kids my love, I love you.

To Kristy: I love you too

Matt left Luke on the couch with Rose, heading up to tuck the 4 kids into bed.

Saturday

Saturdays were always busy in the Simmons house. Both Jake and David had soccer practice at 10am while Lily and Chloe had to be at dance class at 10:30.

Matt looked at the schedule Kristy had left on the fridge in despair and fear. “Okay, how am I gonna do this?” he mumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Anything I can do ?” Luke’s voice startled him for a second. Of course Matt knew he was in the house but he didn’t think he would be up already.

“I don’t know how Kristy does it,” Matt admits, facing his friend. Luke gave him a smile while pouring himself a cup of coffee. “What’s on the schedule for today ?”

“Jake and David have soccer at 10 and the girls have dance class at 10:30.. on the opposite ends of town” he sighs, glancing back at the schedule.

“I have my car, you know. I could take the girls if you want ?” Luke offered, Matt paused- Luke did come over to help him but he felt bad to ask him to do that.

“Are you sure ?” “Yeah man, it’s no problem”

The sound of footsteps filled the house moments later, the 4 kids coming down the stairs and began asking what was for breakfast. Matt and Luke got them settled in for breakfast, explaining to them what the plan for the day is.

Matt headed up to get Rose changed and ready for the day seeing that she can’t do it herself.

“I’m taking the girls to dance class and your dad is taking you two to soccer practice” Luke explains as the two boys help him clear the table. Jake and David were bickering about who could kick the ball from one end of the field into the goal.

“Go grab your gear, we’re leaving in a few.” Matt smiles, stepping back into the kitchen. “See if your sisters are ready too!” he shouted after the running boys.

Within a few minutes, everyone was out the door. Lily and Chloe strapped into their seats, Matt giving them a quick kiss to the cheek each before letting them go off with Luke. Jake, David and Rose were with him, on their way to soccer practice.

---

The day went by pretty quickly. From soccer practices to dance class and then home to shower and head back out because Matt had promised to take them to the park. By the time they finally got home from the park, the kids were coming down from a sugar high due to the ice cream and junk food Luke had bribed them with while Matt wasn’t looking.

They had stopped for something to eat mid way through their park trip, meaning that none of them were hungry except for Rose who needed a bath and a bottle before bed.

“Can we watch a movie?” Jake asked his father, and his siblings joined him. The 4 of them looking up at their father, their best puppy dog eyes and pouts in their little faces.

Matt chuckled, smiling at his kids, “what would mom say if you tried that ?” a chorus of “yes” and “yeah” filling the house. Matt paused, he knew Kristy would send them up to get ready for bed but he was the cool parent or so he thought. He felt like he should say yes just because he didn’t spend as much time as he wanted to with them.

“Fine but only one movie. Go pick while I get Rose ready for bed. If you need help with popcorn, ask Luke”

“Uncle Luke!” Lily and Chloe shout, running towards the kitchen as the boys go in the other direction towards the couch.

When Matt returns, the house is quiet. He swears he wasn’t up there that long. “Guys?” he calls, making the way through the house. Luke whispers for him to be quiet as he steps into the living room.

The kids are all passed out on the blanket fort they made on the floor. Matt smiles, letting out a sigh as he sinks into the couch next to Luke. “How long have they been out ?”

“15- maybe 20 minutes” Luke hums, scrolling through his phone. “Who are you so into texting right now ?” Matt asks him.

Luke glances up at Matt over his phone, a slight red tint on his cheeks. “Oh, um- it’s just- it’s Garcia”

Matt hums, “Huh, how are things with Roxy ?”

“Roxy ?” Luke questions, mind obviously blank for a moment.

“Your dog?”

“Oh! She’s fine” he trails off, like he wasn’t sure about his answer.  

Matt chuckles, smiling at his love struck friend. It has been a few weeks since Penelope left the BAU and everyone had heard about their date, so it was only itne until they officially became a couple. Matt knew Luke and Penelope were mostly definitely not talking about Roxy based on that blush on his cheek.

“Your wife is superwoman by the way” Luke mumbels, eyes still on his phone.

“Hm ?”

“Taking care of 5 kids while working and being by herself for most of the time ?” Luke drops the phone on his lap. “She’s superwoman.”  

Matt smiles, “yeah, she is.”

“Glad you both think so” a voice says behind them. Both men jump,their reflexes kicking in as they stand and turn towards the voice. Kristy is standing behind the couch, her hands up playfully.

“Didn’t mean to scare you two” she smiles, making her way over to give Matt a hug. “Thank you for helping him,” Kristy smiles at Luke, “you’re more than welcome to spend the night if you’d like but we have it covered if you want to go.”

“I think he’s got somewhere to be” Matt pipes up, Luke’s brows furrowed looking back at Matt. “I do ?” he questions.

“I believe there’s a blonde technical analyst waiting for you somewhere.”

“You know ?” Luke smiles, the amusement evident on his face.

“I figured it out first,'' Kristy says proudly. Matt laughs softly, “it’s true, she did”

Luke smiles at the couple, saying goodnight to them before picking up his bag. Matt walks in outside to his car, leaving Kristy inside with the kids.

“Tell the kids I said goodbye, okay ? i’ll come by another say and hangout with them or if you and Kristy need a night, I’m more than happy to take them”

“Think you can handle all 5 of them ?” Matt’s brow raises, his arms folded across his chest.

“I’ll probably get some help from a blonde technical analyst.” Luke laughs.

--- 

taglist: @tenemily​ @mac99martin @aaron-hotchner187 @fanofalltheficsx @luke-alvez @iconicc @kidmulaney @pumpkin-stars @captainxholmes @multixfandomwriter @sluttytears @thelukealvez @scandinavian-punk @taralewiz @morcias @shotarosleftpinky @mrs-dr-reid @hqtchner @averyhotchner @willlemonheadsupremacy @mggsprettygirl @simxican 

[august-bleeds-red]

Carnival Lights

(Bo Sinclair x AFAB!Reader)

Bo makes a stranger’s ride on the Ferris wheel more than an average trip to the carnival.

WARNINGS: Non-con, forced orgasm (NSFW below the line).

~

It was your first blind date since you were sixteen. The guy was twenty-three and already a junior partner in a prestigious law firm, and dull as paint. But, even discounting his handsome face and impeccable manners, your mom would never forgive you if you messed up on the first date. He’d opted out of riding the wheel with you, confessing a fear of heights that prevented him scaling anything higher than a stepladder, and had stepped away to pick up snacks for when you descended.

 The Ferris wheel had always been your favourite ride as a kid, back when your dad used to take you to the carnival, and you really wanted at least one ride before the night ended – for old time’s sake. You didn’t care if it made you look weird to ride alone.

 The wheel is an old-fashioned one with round, metal-roofed cars, with seats sitting opposite each other. Thankfully, it doesn’t tilt too far with just your weight to balance it.

 “Just you?” the attendant asks. You nod.

 He’s just about to close the door and secure it when someone speaks up:

 “Excuse me, y’all mind if I ride with you?”

 He’s a handsome, dark-haired man in his thirties, with a lazy Louisiana drawl, dressed comfortably in work pants and a navy button-down shirt, an old red-and-white trucker cap sticking out of his back pocket. His face is friendly, eyebrows raised in hope as he awaits your response.

 “Oh . . . I, uh . . .”

 You’re not sure your date would appreciate you sitting in such a confined space with a strange guy you just met, but the attendant is looking at you impatiently, so you panic and shrug in consent. The guy smiles and takes the seat opposite you, the car bouncing a little at the change in weight. His legs are long, his knees almost brushing yours, but he keeps his hands at a respectable distance in his lap. The attendant fastens the door shut and the car trundles a few feet along to allow the next passengers. You know it’s gonna take a while – they need to fill up every car before setting the wheel to spin freely. Which means you’re sitting with this guy for at least the next ten minutes.

 “Name’s Bo,” he says, holding out a hand to you.

 “Um . . . Y/N,” you reply, accepting the handshake politely. His hand is big, his palm warm against yours.

 “Figured we might as well get acquainted if we’re stuck in this tuna can together,” he reasons.

 “Yeah,” you grin nervously, not wanting to point out that you’re only “stuck” because it was his idea to join you.

 “I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m a creature of impulse – my ma used to take me and my brothers on this wheel when we were little kids, an’ I saw you sittin’ alone and, I dunno, you just looked like a nice girl, so I took a shot.”

 “No, it – it’s okay,” your smile grows more genuine. “My dad used to take me on this wheel too, every time the carnival came into town.”

 He smiles, his eyes fixed on your face. He has an intense, dark stare, his brown eyes barely blinking. “So you here by yourself?”

 “No, my date’s around here somewhere.”

 “Well, that’s a little weird,” Bo says. “Leavin’ you to ride alone?”

 “Heh, yeah,” you shrug. “Doesn’t like heights.”

 Bo snorts and mutters something that sounds like, “Pussy.” You can’t help but giggle.

 The car has now elevated far enough from the ground as to make disembarking impossible. You gaze down at the sprawling carnival lights, illuminating the stalls, food carts and rides in a soft, golden glow.

 You don’t speak up when Bo shifts in his seat, edging closer to you so your knees touch. The car is small – there’s no reason to make a fuss for what could just be an honest mistake. Until his fingertips brush against the crown of your kneecap.

 “Kinda irresponsible, really,” he says, his voice lowering. “Leavin’ a little lady as cute as you unaccompanied.”

 Would it be rude to ask him to stop talking? Or at least to move his hand? His fingers are definitely rubbing the inside of your knee now, his gaze hot in a way that proves he knows exactly what he���s doing.

 You’re just about to say something, when he ‘casually’ shifts in his seat, lifting his trouser leg high enough for you to see the handle of a knife tucked into his heavy boot. Your blood runs cold and you press your lips together. His hand slides further up your leg until his whole palm is resting on your thigh.

 “I know if it were me,” he purrs, “I wouldn’t let you outta my sight for a moment.”

 Your fingers are shaking, your skin beginning to prickle.

 “Please . . .” you whisper, your voice barely more than a breath.

 He grins. “Please what, princess?”

 “I . . .” you swallow around the lump rising in your throat. “Please don’t hurt me.”

 He laughs. “Then you’ll do what I say, won’t cha?”

 He eases the knife from his boot and pockets the guard protecting the blade, tracing the dull edge down the soft skin of your thigh. One false move, one flick of his wrist, and you’d be bleeding out all over the car floor. He leans across and uses the blade to dislodge the straps of your dress.

 “Let’s see them gorgeous tits,” he says. Reaching across, he pulls at your neckline, revealing the strapless bra you’re wearing underneath. “Oh, honey – d’you wear that just for me?” Slipping his fingers inside the blue lace cup, he releases one of your breasts and squeezes roughly. You whimper, clapping a hand over your mouth when the knife twitches in his hand.

 “Look at these pretty little nipples,” he flicks his thumb over one, smiling when it hardens at his touch. “Why, they’re already pleased to see me, aren’t they?”

 Cursing your treacherous body, you shut your eyes and wince as he scoops your other breast free, jiggling the soft flesh.

 “God damn, these puppies look sweet enough to eat,” he moans, leaning in and lapping at one nipple with his tongue. You cringe away from him, gasping when he takes a firm grip on the back of your head.

 “Now,” he murmurs, “you’re gonna come sit on my lap, right? We’re gonna have a little fun. Easy, nice and slow – don’t wanna draw too much attention now, do we?

 Hating your own cowardice, you shift from your seat and turn, letting Bo settle you against his clothed erection. You can feel it through the fabric, digging into your ass. The car stays at an inconspicuous angle, the cars below, above or opposite you none the wiser as to what’s going on.

 Bo keeps one hand on your breast, squeezing and pinching, the other strays further downwards. The knife is stowed away back into his boot, but you already know better than to make a grab for it.

 “Let’s see just how much of a good girl y’really are,” he whispers in your ear, teeth biting at the side of your neck. A shiver runs through you, and you can tell he feels it by the way his lips curl against your skin. The tips of his fingers brush your panties and you close your eyes in shame at how damp they are. You’ve always had sensitive breasts, and the way he’s sucking and teething at your skin is only making it worse. Nudging aside the silky fabric, you gasp when his thick, calloused fingers trace the outline of your pussy.

 “Ahh, there we go,” he shifts a little, spreading your thighs further apart with his knees. “Just look how wet y’are for me. You’re just a little slut, ain’t cha?”

 His fingers push past your folds, rubbing at your clit and making your legs tremble. He slips in up to the first knuckles of his index and middle fingers, his thumb circling your clit with a practiced movement.

 “Y’like the way my fingers feel in you, you little whore?” he growls in your ear. “Fuck, you’re soakin’ wet. Bet you wish you could take my hard fuckin’ cock in that sweet little cunt, huh? Ride me ‘til I fill you up with cum, you dirty fuckin’ slut.”

 He forces another finger inside you, tilting his wrist to allow them to sink in right to the hilt. You stretch around his digits, your slick walls inviting him in further. Why is this happening? Why are you so turned on? Your heart flutters in the cage of your chest and you bite your lip to keep from moaning.

 “Thaaaat’s it,” Bo croons, quickening pace. “You love it, don’t you, you little whore? You love havin’ my fingers all up in your cunt.”

 You shake your head and the hand molesting your breast takes a firm hold of your jaw. He turns your head to face him and your lips are assaulted – his tongue staining your mouth with the faint taste of tobacco. Your pussy is liquid in his hands, the warm whispers of pleasure building steadily in your lower stomach.

 “You’re gonna fuckin’ cum for me,” he growls. “Y’hear that, bitch? You’re gonna cum on my fingers like a slut. C’mon, gimme that goddamn cunt. Show how much you love bein’ fingered like a cheap whore.”

 Bitch. Slut. Whore. The poisonous words hang in the air around you.

 “Tell me you wanna cum,” he demands. “Beg me to make you cum.”

 “I— I can’t . . .” you whimper. You don’t think you could live with yourself if you stooped to that level of indignity. Then he stops and the sky comes crashing down around your ears. “F-fuck—!”

 “Tell me what I wanna hear, baby.” He moves his fingers again at a brutal pace, the friction against both your clit and G-spot almost too much to bear. It’s growing, reaching such a pitch as to make your ears ring.

 “Fuck, please . . .” you screw your eyes shut against what you feel is the judgment of the world. “Please . . . make me cum—”

 “Say my name, bitch,” he growls. “Tell me who this fuckin’ cunt belongs to.”

 “Bo! Y-you . . . my . . . it belongs to you . . . oh God, Bo, please, please—”

 At the last moment, as you feel your walls contracting, he shoves two fingers in your mouth, grunting with satisfaction as you bite down to prevent yourself crying out from the most intense orgasm you’ve ever experienced. He chuckles darkly in your ear, his fingers making an obscenely wet sound as they withdraw from you.

 He allows you to reassemble yourself before the wheel has completed its final loop. You run a hand through your tangled hair and wipe away the smears of mascara beneath your eyes, while he sucks the shining fluid from his fingers with apparent relish. The last few drops, however, he spares for you. You gag around the fingers he forces into your mouth, tasting the tangy flavour of your own juices.

 When the attendant lets you out, Bo gestures for you to go first, like the Southern gentleman one might presume him to be at first glance. You can see your date waiting for you, a stick of cotton candy in one hand. As you reach him, he watches Bo leave the car behind you.

 “Who was that?” he asks, handing you the pink cloud of spun sugar.

 “No-one,” you shrug as casually as you can manage. You could tell him, now you’re free from the cage. But you don’t. And you never will.

 Grinning like a cat in a dairy barn, Bo secures his cap atop his head. Catching your eye one last time, he winks, nods, and disappears into the crowd.   

~

Inspired by a soundgasm piece by @gentlemanswitch.