#only the first thing they think of in the heat of the moment

[idkyetxoxo]

Gwayne Hightower - Dancing With Our Hands Tied

Summary - They risk everything to indulge in their illicit passion, knowing their stolen moments could shatter trust, but as their hunger for each other deepens, so does the danger of discovery and the thrill of keeping their affair hidden may be the very thing that destroys them.

Pairing - Gwayne Hightower x reader

Warnings - Sexual content (smut!)

Word count - 2235

Masterlist for Gwayne • House of the Dragon General Masterlist

I, I loved you in secret, first sight, yeah, we love without reason.

"What would your sister think?" I asked, my chest heaving with the intensity of the moment. 

His breathing mirrored mine, ragged and unsteady, each exhale a mix of need and uncertainty. His eyes were dark with desire, his lips slightly parted. The space between us was charged, filled with an unspoken tension that could only be broken by action.

"She would understand," he murmured, though his voice held a wavering note. His thumb brushed softly against my swollen lips, his touch sending a shiver down my spine. 

I wasn't sure if he was convincing himself or me. 

I could feel the rapid beat of my heart against my ribs, each pulse a reminder of the danger we were dancing around.

"We are good friends," I whispered, my words barely audible as his mouth found my neck, his lips trailing a path that made my breath hitch. His hands were clumsy yet urgent as they fumbled with the laces of my dress, his touch growing bolder with each passing second.

"I do not think she would be pleased," I managed to say, though my voice was already trembling, his kisses growing more insistent. He paused for a moment, his gaze locking with mine, his eyes filled with a mixture of longing and defiance. 

In one swift movement, he began to strip away his own clothing, the fabric falling to the floor like a discarded pretence.

"Then do not tell," he said, his voice a low rumble, filled with a daring challenge. I began to slide my dress down the rest of the way, feeling the cool air against my heated skin. 

His gaze raked over me hungrily, his tongue darting out to wet his lips, his eyes darkening with an intensity that made my knees weak.

"And if she finds out?" I asked, my voice softer now, almost a plea. I felt the weight of his stare as his eyes roamed my exposed body, the heat between us growing almost unbearable.

"It will be our secret," he replied, his lips capturing mine once more with a fierce urgency that sent a thrill coursing through my veins.

His hands found the curve of my thighs, lifting me effortlessly as I wrapped my legs around his waist. The cool stone of the wall pressed against my back as he pinned me there, his mouth blazing a trail down my front, leaving a path of fire in its wake. 

I threw my head back, my fingers threading through his hair, each touch, each kiss, driving me deeper into a haze of longing.

Every kiss felt like a step further into a darkness I both feared and craved as if his touch could erase the shame gnawing at my conscience. But every time our bodies met, I was reminded of the line we were crossing the betrayal that would shatter the fragile trust of those we loved.

He shifted us, his breath hot against my skin as he positioned himself between my legs. His hardness teased my wet folds, rubbing against me with deliberate slowness, drawing a soft moan from my lips. 

The anticipation was electric, every nerve in my body strung taut, waiting, aching.

Then, with a slow, deliberate thrust, he entered me, filling me inch by inch. A gasp escaped my lips, the sensation overwhelming, a sweet blend of pleasure and pain. 

He moved with a steady rhythm, each thrust deep and purposeful, each movement designed to drive us both to the edge.

I could feel the tension building inside me, each stroke pushing me closer to the brink. His breath was hot against my ear, his moans low and rough, mingling with my own soft cries as we lost ourselves in the forbidden dance of our bodies. 

The world outside faded away, leaving only this moment our secret, our stolen bliss, our hands metaphorically tied, but our hearts completely free.

"Like that—just like that," I gasped out, my voice breaking as his tip brushed against a spot deep inside me that sent a rush of stars exploding behind my closed eyelids. 

My hands clawed at his back, my nails digging into his skin as if I could anchor myself against the oncoming wave of pleasure.

"Quieten down, darling," he murmured, his voice a rough whisper that sent a shiver through me. 

His head dipped to rest in the crook of my neck, the scent of him overwhelming, a mix of desire and something primal. 

I pressed my lips to his shoulder, biting down to muffle the cries that were threatening to escape, my breath hot against his skin. 

His hands tightened on my hips, fingers digging in, holding me in place as he thrust deeper, his movements more insistent, more demanding.

"I'm so close," I breathed, my words barely audible, caught between a moan and a sigh. 

My eyes squeezed shut as my body trembled, my walls clenching around him, each contraction pulling him deeper, drawing him in.

"Good," he murmured against my skin, his lips brushing the sensitive flesh of my collarbone. His mouth moved with desperate hunger, teeth grazing and nibbling at the delicate skin, his breath hot and erratic.

I could feel the pressure mounting, a delicious ache building inside me, my body teetering on the precipice of release. His voice was in my ear, murmuring unintelligible words of encouragement and desire, a low, gravelly sound that sent another wave of heat pooling low in my belly. 

My hands tangled in his hair, tugging him closer, needing to feel every inch of him, to lose myself entirely in this forbidden intimacy.

And then it happened a sudden, overwhelming rush, a white-hot wave crashing over me. My body tensed, arching against his as my climax tore through me, my cries muffled against his skin. 

My legs tightened around his waist, pulling him deeper, needing to feel every inch of him as I rode out the wave of pleasure. His rhythm faltered, his own groans growing louder, more uncontrolled, and I knew he was close, too.

"Yes—yes," I whispered, encouraging him, my voice breathless and broken. 

His movements grew erratic, desperate, each thrust more powerful than the last as he chased his own release. When he finally came, I felt it in the way his body tensed, the way his breath hitched, his moans vibrating against my skin.

We stayed like that for a moment, wrapped up in each other, our breaths heavy and mingling in the small space we had carved out for ourselves in a world that could never understand. 

Our hearts still raced, our bodies still humming with the aftershocks of our stolen bliss.

There was a comfort in the silence, in the weight of him against me, but it was laced with the bitter sting of reality seeping back in.

"We do not tell," I repeated softly, my voice breaking the quiet, the words more a plea than a statement. I needed him to confirm it, to reassure me that this secret could remain ours alone, safe from the world outside.

He nodded, a small, reassuring smile playing on his lips as he brushed a loose strand of hair from my face. 

"We won't," he promised, his voice steady, filled with a certainty I wanted desperately to believe in. "Nothing will happen."

I nodded back, forcing a smile of my own, but the knot of doubt in my chest refused to untangle.

I could've spent forever with your hands in my pockets, picture of your face in an invisible locket. You said there was nothing in the world that could stop it I had a bad feeling.

─── ✦⋅♡⋅✦ ───

The chalice in my hand had become a small comfort, its familiar weight grounding me in a way that nothing else could in this moment. 

I wished, however, that it was filled with wine, something potent enough to dull my thoughts and soothe my frayed nerves instead of the sweet fruit tea that Rhaenyra favoured so much. 

I took a sip, trying to hide my unease behind the delicate rim, but the sugary liquid only served to remind me of the tension knotted in my chest.

Each time the rim touched my lips, I thought of Gwayne's kisses, the way they tasted sweeter when stolen.

We were seated in the garden, surrounded by the buzz of court life as it thrummed around us, our idle chatter mingling with the distant sounds of knights sparring and the rustle of leaves in the late afternoon breeze. 

Rhaenyra, ever vibrant, was happily gossiping, her laughter bright as she tossed playful remarks to Alicent and me. It should have been a lighthearted moment, but my mind was elsewhere, lost in a sea of conflicted thoughts.

"He is rather charming, isn't he?" Rhaenyra's voice pulled me from my musings, and I followed her gaze to see Gwayne standing across the garden, deep in conversation with another knight. 

His easy confidence and the way he held himself always drew attention, and today was no exception.

"Yes," I murmured, my voice quieter than I intended. I could feel the heat rise in my cheeks, but I forced myself to keep my expression neutral as I tore my gaze away. 

Rhaenyra hummed thoughtfully, her eyes still fixed on Gwayne before she turned her attention to Alicent, a playful glint in her eyes.

"He's my brother, Rhaenyra," Alicent chided, nudging her friend lightly with her elbow, though there was no real admonishment in her voice.

Rhaenyra smirked, unfazed. "And I'm not allowed to find him handsome because of that?"

Alicent shook her head, laughing softly. "No, because then you'd be betraying me. Isn't that right?" She turned to me, expecting my agreement, but I was too lost in my own thoughts to respond.

Gwayne's eyes found mine from across the garden, and he sent me a quick, secretive wink. My breath hitched, and I forced a small, polite smile in return, trying to mask the flutter of nerves that sparked inside me. 

I glanced away, hoping neither girl noticed the way my fingers tightened around my chalice.

Rhaenyra's voice cut through the silence, drawing me back. She tapped my cheek gently, her expression concerned. "What's the matter?"

Alicent nodded in agreement, her brow furrowing as she leaned closer. "You seem unfocused and quiet today"

I set my chalice down, the cool metal clinking softly against the table as I swallowed hard, searching for an excuse. 

"I... I simply don't feel well," I lied, my voice faltering slightly. Standing up quickly, I tried to steady myself under their watchful gazes. "Perhaps I will see you two later."

Without waiting for their response, I hurried away, my steps quickening as I made my way down the stone path toward my chambers. 

My mind was racing, guilt clawing at my insides. I couldn't shake the feeling that Alicent knew, that somehow, she could sense the secret I was desperately trying to keep hidden.

Just as I turned a corner, a hand shot out, gripping my arm and pulling me into a hidden alcove. I opened my mouth to scream, but another hand swiftly covered it. My heart pounded wildly, fear flooding my veins until I looked up and saw Gwayne's familiar, mischievous smile. 

Relief washed over me, but it was tinged with irritation.

"Gwayne!" I hissed, slapping his chest as he stifled a laugh. "You frightened me!"

His grin widened, eyes twinkling with amusement. "I scared you?" he asked, feigning innocence. "That was not my intention, I swear it."

"Sneaking up on me like that—what else did you expect?" I said, trying to sound stern, but my voice betrayed the smile tugging at my lips. 

His hands slid around my waist, pulling me closer, and I let myself sink into his touch despite my better judgment.

"I couldn't resist," he murmured, pressing soft, lingering kisses along my neck. 

The warmth of his breath sent shivers down my spine, and I fought to keep my composure, my hand instinctively pushing against his chest.

"Gwayne, someone might see us," I protested weakly, casting a nervous glance over my shoulder. But his grip tightened, his lips trailing up to my ear, teasing and deliberate.

"No one will see," he assured, his voice low and thick with desire as his hands roamed my sides. "We're alone." 

His touch was intoxicating, and I bit down on my lip, struggling to suppress the soft moan building in my throat, knowing that any sound would only encourage him further.

My resolve wavered as his fingers traced the curve of my waist, each touch stoking the fire he so effortlessly ignited in me. 

"At least come into my chambers," I whispered breathlessly, barely able to think straight under his heated gaze.

Gwayne pulled back, his lips curling into a knowing smirk. 

"As you wish," he said, his tone dripping with satisfaction. He released me just enough to let me lead the way, following closely behind with an eagerness that sent a thrill through me.

As we made our way through the winding halls, my heart hammered with both anticipation and fear. The risk, the danger of being discovered, only heightened the urgency between us. 

But for now, with Gwayne's presence so close and his touch still lingering on my skin, all thoughts of consequence faded, leaving only the intoxicating pull of a forbidden desire that neither of us seemed able or willing to resist.

I, I loved you in spite of deep fears that the world would divide us.

A/n - I too would risk it all for an affair with Gwayne x

Gwayne tag list - @deniixlovezelda

[ikeubaekgu]

ENHYPEN HYUNG LINE EATING PUSSYYYYY

first work guys!! support pleaseee <3333

HEESEUNG | is a weak man when it comes to your pleasure. he would do anything in his power to hear your pretty sounds, he will do anything to see you writhe and shake underneath his weight, so gorgeous for him when your eyes roll all the way in the back of your skull and your plump lips part in pleasure when he’s working his magic on you. so don’t be surprised when he wants you to enjoy the sight too! getting you on your knees and facing a mirror as he spreads your ass cheeks open, relishing in the way your greedy little cunt clenches even without him doing anything to it. loving the way your body jumps forward slightly when he spits on your hole before completely digging in, hot tongue relentlessly fucking into your heat. he would be so messy, a mix of his spit and your juices just running down his chin and getting all over his sheets. he’d be grunting in pleasure and mumbling against your cunt to keep your eyes on yourself baby, literally working himself up by just thinking about how gorgeous you must look as you get near your orgasm. he gets so needy for your release he grabs your hips and fucks you back on his tongue, so harshly and fast your arms just collapse because it feels too good. poor little thing, your face smushed against his sheets as you get all your pretty makeup and drool on it, hee turning you into a dumb little slut with his tongue only.

JAY | always loves to eat you out, but he enjoys doing it particularly when you’re tired or you’ve had a rough day. he loves pampering and taking care of you, and it’s no different when he lays back and urges you to get on top of him with that signature lopsided smirk of his. he’s so gentle when he slides his hands all over your thighs and ass, caressing them with such care, his eyes glimmering as he encourages you to fully sit on him, to let him take care of you, angel girl. his movements would be so slow, agonizingly so. he wants you to just put all your weight on him and relax, let him worship you like the goddess you are in his mind. he’d keep his eyes closed, savoring every single moment too as he slides his tongue along your slit, gently circling your clit a few times and humping the air when he feels just how responsive you are to his touch, no matter how slight. totally slides his hands up to your lower back and hips, the contrast between his rough hands but careful grip sending shivers through your entire body, especially when he parts from your heat for a second to just whisper how much he loves you, how much he loves this cunt and how good you taste, before diving back in and rocking your body back on forth on his tongue until you make a mess all over his mouth.

JAKE | is so fucking nasty. he would spend every waking hour between your thighs if he could, and he does try. it gets to a point where sometimes you feel a little bad, you want to return the favor but everytime he just asks for you to just let him eat your cunt once more? you don’t seem to get that he does this for his pleasure too. he just loves your pussy and her taste so bad.

still, you also want to pleasure him. so why not suck his cock while he eats you out? the best of both worlds! and he becomes absolutely obsessed with it. just shamelessly thrusting his hips up into your mouth as he groans and moans and pants against your wet hole. he’s just so happy you let him eat you out as much as he wants now. he loves sucking on your clit, making downright obscene sounds, while fingering your cunt open with his thick and long digits, always challenging you to fit more and more. you’re so drenched sometimes he thinks he could fit his whole hand inside you. would literally hold your legs around his face after you come, because it’s still not enough. so into overstimulating the shit out of you, to the point you’re not even really sucking his cock anymore but doing something closer to gagging on it as he fucks your mouth. don't even think about squirting in his mouth because he will fuck it back inside you and try to get you to do that again. just insatiable.

SUNGHOON | is a lot more meticulous when he’s stressed or irritated. he likes to use every single toy he can think of on you, especially when he’s eating you out. there’s vulnerability in letting someone else pleasure you like that, and he loves to make sure you never forget that. making you hold your own legs so you’re bent all nicely for him, giving him the freedom of doing absolutely anything he wants to you. his bushy eyebrows furrowed as he keeps his eyes on your tits, your pretty clit delicious in his mouth as he sucks on it while slowly inching one of your dildos inside your hole. because of course, you think you’re so slick owning all of this nasty shit. well he can use that better too, he just knows your body so well. slowly teasing the toy in like he would his own tip, making you beg just for some stupid plaything like you would for his thick cock. and if you did anything to make him mad like the slutty brat you are, don’t even think about letting your legs go for even a second, no matter how good his mouth feels. because he will stop and strip your peak right under you. opting instead to land repeated slaps right on your clit, telling you that’s all you’ll get, cum like this and show him you're sorry, show him how good you are. and you do. you squirt around nothing, soaking your own hands that are still holding your thighs open, tight little hole convulsing like it’s begging for anything to fill it up. and while hoon is finally calming down and going back to your usually loving boyfriend, he thinks he just might give it something for real this time.

[f0point5]

literally anything with Max, Emilia, and Daniel please I’m begging after yesterday 🙏🙏🙏

No because this almost turned into a Singapore crack fic lol. But I saved it.

And yes I did listen to the song so that I could check this whole thing could happen within it’s time limit. But also this could so easily have been Tenerife sea but I Daniel-ed it up lol.

Anyway I hope you enjoy it!

✨Set in April 2024✨

I’ll drink what you think, and I’m high

It’s getting dark later now. It’s 7pm and the sun in only now setting over the mountainside, turning the clear sky all manner of gold and peach and baby blue. It’s the first good weather of the month, which is what gave you the idea of sitting out on the rooftop patio. Daniel just happened to call Max as you were mixing a Bellini, which is how he’d got roped into what turned into what you’d dubbed a “Wine and Whine” evening.

So there Max sits, listening to Daniel talk about grape yields while you fiddle with the stereo. Max interjects at the right moments, but mostly he’s watching you bent over in a tight Missoni dress, trying to connect your phone Bluetooth to the speakers.

That’s how good the dress looks, Max thinks to himself. I even remember the name of the shop.

“So I’m like mate, I don’t know shit about grapes, that’s what I pay you for,” Daniel explains now. “And he’s looking at me like I’ve fucked his grandma in front of him. But I’m right. I drive cars for a living and I don’t even like grapes, that’s his job,”

“Yeah, but what if-“

Max is cut off by the sound of your squeal. He looks across the patio to see you bathed in golden light, sporting a bright grin.

“Danny, it’s your song,” you declare, teetering toward the boys on your wedge heels.

“She’s so pissed,” Daniel says through a chuckle.

“I heard that,” you shoot back, holding a hand out to him. “Now, dance with me,”

The gentle strumming of a guitar gives way to an American accent with a somber tone.

Daniel rolls his eyes but gets to his feet, taking your hand and pulling you along the concrete to the middle of the patio.

The music is not Max’s taste, not something he understands, but it’s…warm.

That’s how he feels watching Daniel pull you close, starting to sway you in small circles around the patio. He thinks about how both you and he needed Daniel before you needed each other, how Daniel had been your friend when Max was too scared to be, and he’d been Max’s friend even when it must have been like salt in a wound.

Daniel looks down and says something to you that Max can’t hear. Whatever it is, it is has you rolling your eyes in the way you do when you’re trying not to tear up. He watches you nod in what seems like agreement before shrugging your shoulders.

In the next breath, Max hears your voice singing along above the music.

“We all know, you tiptoed,” you sing, “up to six foot, in grill the grid,”

This pulls a deep, throaty laugh and a “fuck you” from Daniel, his head thrown back so much that he pulls you forward with him.

You’re singing at each other now, bodies shaking through laughter. The sound of a harmonica pierces Max’s ears as Daniel twirls you under his arm, your eyes catching the light of the setting sun as you turn.

Fuck. You are so beautiful.

“Max, come take over,” Daniel calls, beckoning him with one hand. “I need another drink,”

Max gets up and goes over to your swaying form just as Daniel lets you go. He pats Max on the back as he passes, turning to look at you both before he slips through the patio door, out of sight due to the reflection in the glass.

Your glassy eyes and the heat of your skin make Max think you’re probably looking at two of him right now, but he doesn’t mind, as long as you’re looking at him. He takes hold of you, fighting a smile at the way you sink into him in a way you wouldn’t with Daniel. Your hand slides around his neck and his instinctively goes to rest on the curve of your hip, bringing you so close he can smell your perfume and Sauvignon blanc.

In the background, the music picks up, the southern drawl a little more lively even though the words are still morose.

“I don’t get why you guys like this song,” Max says, guiding you out and then under one of his arms so that your back his against his chest. “It’s about a funeral,”

You let out an exasperated sigh. “It’s about a family,” you tell him, craning your neck to look at him over your shoulder.

Max nods, letting go of one your hands to spin you out and then back towards him. He catches you smiling at the effortless way he moves you around. He may not particularly like dancing but he’s been given three gifts in life. One is coordination. The second is control.

“It’s about the little things that stick with you about the people you love. The things about them that made you who you are,”

And the third is you.

He still doesn’t hear the song the way you do. He doesn’t see the world the way you do. But he knows he wants to listen to you explain the world to him for however long he’s in it.

“It’s about a funeral,” he says plainly, which only makes you shake your head.

“I love you, Max Verstappen.” Your words are as plain as his.

He wants to say it back. He even opens his mouth to try. But sometimes, like now, Max hates that word because it seems so wholly inadequate. He’s never been good with words anyway.

Instead, he kisses you, a kiss that tips you backwards, has you leaning into the hand on your back that holds you up. He can feel you smiling against his lips as he straightens.

When he pulls away, you follow him, placing one more peck on his lips before leaning forward to rest your chin on his shoulder as you continue to dance. Max notices then that the golden hues have left the sky, the colour now the same as the Japanese Cherry blossoms. He breathes in the scent of roses on your skin as he pulls you closer.

“What was he saying to you?” He asks quietly, his cheek moving against yours as he speaks.

“Who?” Your reply is lazy, almost a purr against his neck.

“Daniel. What did he say while you were dancing?”

Max doesn’t know how he can tell you smile at that, but he knows.

“Oh. Nothing,” you say. The music slows, and a woman’s voice joins the man’s against a single guitar. “He thinks we’re yuppies,”

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman-Part 79

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe: Military School

Words: 5K

Masterlist

———————————————————————

Wednesday, April 13; 1:30 PM - Batlle House

The sun is shining. The weather has been wonderfully beautiful since we arrived here. It's pleasant. My only regret is that half of our time here has already passed. We've made the most of it, especially with hiking. I've never walked so much in just a few days. Lucy loves it, and I must admit, I’ve started to enjoy it too. From where we are, we have a lot of nature around, so I show her everything we can see.

“So, what do you want to do today?” Lucy asks me after putting the last plate in the dishwasher.

We just finished eating. I sent my grandfather to take his nap. He never wants to admit it, but he gives more than he should. He doesn't seem to understand that he's getting old. I'm glad we're here. We've been able to help him with a lot of things.

“Well, I was thinking you could take care of the car this afternoon.”

“Are you sure? You might get really bored.”

“Oh no. I'll play assistant, and I wouldn’t miss a chance to watch you,” I giggle.

She smiles, nodding her head. She kept her promise to my grandfather by checking under the hood on the first day. According to her, some sensors needed to be replaced if he wanted the car to last. Of course, my grandfather agreed and gave us money to get the parts that same day. However, the parts had to be ordered, and they arrived this morning, so we might as well take care of it right away.

“OK, let’s do that then.”

“And maybe after that, we can…”

She turns her head while washing her hands. I swallow hard.

“I think I’m ready.”

She smiles at my words. She turns fully after grabbing a towel to dry her hands.

“OK. We’ll go see him afterward. And if you want, we can spend the evening at the beach again tonight. The full moon will be at its peak, so we shouldn't miss that, right?”

I smile back and go to embrace her. Yes, it was time for me to go see him. Lucy kisses my forehead. She understood well that I wasn’t the most comfortable at first, but now that we’ve spent some days here, I feel more at ease. Her presence has been really reassuring.

“Well, I’m going to find some clothes before we head out,” she announces, kissing my forehead.

“Can I come with you?”

“Yes, of course.”

We head upstairs to my room. I sit on the bed while Lucy rummages through her things. I watch her intently as she changes in front of me. That tease has been toying with me for days. We kiss a lot before sleeping, or to put it another way, we heat things up, only for nothing to happen. I must admit, this little game is starting to get very frustrating. It’s been a long time since I’ve wanted someone this much.

“Everything alright, babe?” she teases gently.

“No. You’re such a tease.”

“Oh, really? A tease?” she giggles.

“Yes.”

“And you’re the one saying that?”

“What do you mean by that?”

She narrows her eyes playfully as she approaches me. I lean back on my elbows as she hovers over me.

“I mean it’s harder for me to hold back than you think.”

I give in to her lips when she kisses me. The moment is short-lived as she pulls away. I groan in frustration.

“Babe!”

“Stop complaining,” she laughs. “We’ve got things to do today. Plus, your grandfather is sleeping in the next room.”

“All the more reason to—”

“Do nothing,” she finishes my sentence. “I’m heading down. Do what you want until then.”

She leaves first, and of course, I follow with a sulky look. She’s opened the car hood in the driveway to start the repairs while I watch, sitting on the grass. Buzz is with us. He’s been following us everywhere. Lucy loved bringing him along on our hikes.

“Babe?”

“Hmm?”

“Were you serious about the idea of getting a dog?”

“Well yes, why? We both seem to love them.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me sooner.”

“Oh, you’re not mad about that, are you? They say a dog is man’s best friend.”

“And do you believe that?”

“Well, yeah. I grew up with a dog, so obviously.”

“Really? What was his name?”

“Hercules.”

“Hercules?” I chuckle.

“Hey, don’t mock it. He was very loyal.”

“No, but Hercules, really?”

I burst out laughing, lying on the ground.

“Are you done?” Lucy scolds me.

Her serious demeanor can’t last when she sees me laughing. A smile stretches across her lips, and she drops the parts she was holding. She wipes her hands on a rag. My girlfriend is such a badass. Why do I feel like she doesn’t even realize it?

“Really, it’s not cool. I loved him.”

“Sorry, I just didn’t expect that. Seriously, Hercules... But it’s cute in its own way.”

“Right,” she laughs. “Don’t make fun of me.”

I smile like an idiot. I feel so happy. It’s strange being away from school, but at the same time, I love this life—just being us. I calm down when I see she’s no longer paying attention to me. She leans back against the car just as a voice calls out.

“Ona...?”

I frown. I sit up before turning around. I hesitate for a moment before recognizing the person in front of me, who seems to have recognized me right away.

“Hey,” I greet awkwardly.

“Ona Batlle. I can’t believe it! I never thought I’d see you again.”

I awkwardly get up to greet Nick, my childhood friend. We must have been so small when we met. We literally grew up together before I moved away.

“Hey!”

I giggle as he lifts me up when I thought we were just going to exchange a hug. We look each other up and down. After all, the last time we saw each other, we must have been twelve. Our parents divorced at the same time, and he left to live with his mother, just like I did. He’s grown. He’s even taller than me now, and let’s just say he’s become very handsome. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s an athlete now. He loved football back then. I recognize his short brown hair and his green eyes.

“Wow,” he laughs. “I can’t believe you’re here. And… seeing you like this… you’ve become a beautiful woman. It’s incredible.”

I laugh nervously at his admiration, playfully hitting his shoulder. It’s a bit awkward. We always had a strong bond between us. We went through some of the same struggles. I always loved being adventurous with him. A throat clearing brings me back to reality. We turn to my girlfriend, who’s watching us with a raised eyebrow.

“Sorry, uh. Nick, this is Lucy, my girlfriend. Lucy, this is Nick, a childhood friend.”

He seems taken aback, but his surprise quickly turns into a smile.

“Girlfriend, huh?” he repeats. “A lot has changed, I see... But honestly, I’m not even surprised.”

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean? Why does everyone keep saying that?”

He laughs heartily, shrugging his shoulders.

“Oh come on, you were quite the tomboy back then. You hated hanging out with girls your age. You were always tagging along with me and my group of friends.”

“I wasn’t tagging along! You’re the one who always took me with you!” I reply quickly with a little laugh.

I calm down as I feel Lucy’s arms wrap around me. I lean into her, smiling at Nick.

“What are you doing here? I thought you moved away with your mom?”

“Yeah… That was before she passed away from cancer.”

“Nick...”

“No, don’t say anything,” he smiles sadly. “It must be just as hard as losing your father... your grandfather told me everything when I got back.”

I nod. Unlike me, Nick got to leave with the right parent. He was happy to be able to leave the family home.

- When did you come back?

- Two years ago. It was strange at first. I had to find my footing again, and you weren’t there…

We look at each other for a few seconds, and he seems uncomfortable. Maybe that wasn’t the best thing to say at the moment.

- But anyway, everything's fine now. I’m an athlete at university, I have a girlfriend, and I try to stay busy when I’m not doing anything. Did you know your grandfather can’t be stopped once you start helping him? I’d be careful if I were you, he warns my girlfriend, who giggles.

- Thanks for the warning.

- And you? Are you staying long?

- No, just this week, actually.

- That’s all? So, what about you? Here I am talking about myself, and I haven’t even let you speak. I already know you’ve managed to snag a beautiful woman, so that’s something. Do you live together?

I glance at Lucy, who looks much more relaxed than before. I smile and run my fingers across her cheek when I notice a black smudge.

- Sort of, yeah. In Manchester.

- Manchester? he laughs. Seriously? I thought you hated the cold?

- She still does.

- Stop, you’re exaggerating, I giggle. I’ve gotten used to it.

- And what about your mom?

- She still lives in Barcelona, with Marcus and Joan, my little brother. And she’s getting married next month.

- Wow, all that. I didn’t expect so much. A wedding? And a little brother, really?

- Yeah, well, half-brother technically. He’s going to turn seven.

- Wow. It’s been years. Almost as long as we haven’t spoken.

- Almost, yeah…

We exchange a small smile. I know it’s strange for both of us. Honestly, Nick is someone special to me. He holds my first kiss, which we shared when we each moved away. We were close, undeniably, and it feels a bit strange seeing him again now. Lucy takes the opportunity to slip her arm around my shoulders. I suppress a smile. I know she can’t help herself—it’s crazy. She’s really jealous of anyone.

- Are you still here this weekend? It’s just, I’m throwing a party on Friday night, you know, and I’d love for you to come.

- Uh... I would’ve loved to—

- Oh no, not that line again, he replies, rolling his eyes. Some things never change, it seems.

I laugh, nodding.

- Sorry. We won’t be able to make it.

- When are you leaving?

- Saturday afternoon. We’re heading to Porto to see Lucy’s parents.

- Oh, so you’re Portuguese too? And seeing your parents? Your relationship seems solid.

- It is, I say with a small smile.

- I’m happy for you.

- And you, with your girlfriend?

- It’s not as serious. I mean, it’s been a year now, but we’re not thinking about moving in together or anything like that. We’re taking our time.

- I see. Still commitment issues, huh?

- A bit, yeah. Looks like you’ve managed to get over that, he says, gesturing toward us.

- Let’s just say... you have to find the right person.

- Yeah, he chuckles. I’ll try to remember that. So... we won’t see each other this weekend?

- No, I’m sorry, I say with a small smile.

- A lot has changed, huh?

I nod softly. I can tell he’s changed too. He’s no longer the carefree kid I used to get into trouble with.

- Yeah. It was really great to see you again, though.

- Me too. Maybe we could... I don’t know, exchange numbers? I mean, if Lucy doesn’t mind. It’s just, I think it would be nice to talk to someone who understands me from time to time.

- I don’t mind, she says. It’s not like she can cheat on me between two country.

I smile and accept the kiss Lucy gives me before she lets go. She understands he’s not a threat. At least, I hope so. She goes back to what she was doing while I exchange numbers with Nick.

- Well... I hope it won’t be another eight years before we see each other again.

- We’ll try to avoid that, I say with a small smile. See you soon, and take care of yourself.

- Yeah... You too.

We share one last hug before I sit back down on the grass. Buzz immediately settles between my legs. He hovered around Nick a lot. He must be familiar to him. Still, my grandfather never mentioned him to me. It’s strange.

- So... Nick, huh? Lucy begins. How many more of those do you have up your sleeve?

- What? I giggle.

- I thought it was just Mapi and Feli before me.

I open my mouth to respond, but she cuts me off.

- Careful what you say, baby. You know you’re a terrible liar, and I’m no fool. Do you really want me to lose trust in you over this?

I close my mouth. I hate it when she catches me off guard like that. She turns away, arms crossed. OK, so she’s really serious. I was about to tell a little lie, but I didn’t think it would matter this much.

- Nick was like... I don’t know... my big brother...?

She raises an eyebrow. She doesn’t look convinced. OK... She knows there’s more. And honestly, who wouldn’t? I know there’s a kind of connection with him. We went through a lot together, like our parents’ fights. There was even one day when we ran away... Well, we hid out at my grandparents’ store and went home that night because we were hungry, but still, it was with him. We have memories together, like no one else.

- He was my first kiss...

- First kiss, huh...

My honesty earns a big sigh. I quickly try to recover.

- Don’t make a big deal out of it, please. It wasn’t that great, if you want to know the truth.

- Of course, she says dramatically. You expect me to believe that, given the man he’s become?

She turns back to her tasks, grumpy. I love her jealousy so much. I get up, forcing Buzz to move from his comfy spot between my legs. I apologize with a gentle pat on his head before moving toward my girlfriend. I wrap my arms around her body, which tenses at the contact.

- Come on, baby... Don’t sulk over this. I swear you kiss way better than he does, better than anyone, actually. At least you don’t have acne or braces.

My remark earns a small amused sigh. That’s already a good reaction. I kiss her exposed neck, which makes her straighten up.

- Sorry... she begins, turning around. It’s just that...

She avoids my gaze. I don’t like seeing her so... fragile. I run my hand through her hair.

- I don’t like it.

- You don’t like what? That there were people before you?

- No, she sighs, running her hand through her hair. I know there were others, that’s normal. I don’t know. I just feel vulnerable when you see people who meant something to you. It’s like I feel... like I’m nothing.

- Wow, I chuckle. Are you out of your mind?

I gently make her lift her head. She really does seem vulnerable right now.

- Don’t think that, baby. You’re my everything. How can you even think otherwise?

She sighs, shrugging.

- Will you... will you always love me, even after you really know who I am?

I raise an eyebrow. She seems so worried.

- What do you mean?

- I mean, the girl who left Portugal isn’t the one you see standing in front of you. Well... she is, but not entirely. I’m sure my parents are going to remind you of the clichés I used to be.

Oooh... So, she’s worried about going home. I smile at the realization. It’s really too cute. I thought I was the only one feeling this way, but she hides it well.

- What exactly are you hiding from me?

- We all have a past, Ona...

2

- Hey, are you done? I’m not the kind of person who’s going to push you away for some random reason, OK? You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Is this what you’re always scared of when you get in your moods?

She stays silent for a moment before relaxing.

- Yeah, a bit. I feel like I don’t deserve you. Like my old self doesn’t deserve you.

- Don’t talk down about yourself like that. You’re the most wonderful woman I’ve ever met, and I mean it. I don’t care who you used to be. The only one that matters is the person standing in front of me right now.

She takes a deep breath and nods. I gently stroke her cheek and kiss her tenderly, pressing a bit harder to show her all my passion. I can’t help but smile when she reacts with a soft moan. Naturally, she flips me over to take control.

- You really can’t stand it when I’m in charge, can you? I tease with a laugh.

- Not particularly, she whispers.

- Is that also because of your past? I tease her again.

Instead of answering, she kisses me roughly once more. For some reason, I have a feeling I hit the nail on the head. But I don’t say anything, letting her take the lead. It feels too good to interrupt.

- So, Nick...

I burst into laughter, wrapping my arms around her neck. She’s unbelievable, seriously.

- I was 10, Luce. He didn’t even matter, not even a little.

- Like a big brother, she murmurs.

- Yes, exactly. Like a big brother, I confirm with a small smile.

- Why did you turn down the party? We both know we could’ve gone.

- Why? Well, simply because I want to spend as much time as possible with my girlfriend, you see. That’s why we’re here, after all.

- OK, she whispers. Fine, I’m going to finish fixing up this old bike, and then we can go for a walk in town.

- Hallelujah!

Wednesday, April 13th; 6:00 PM - Cemetery

Here we are. I’m scared. The moment I’ve been dreading is finally happening. I even feel myself trembling in Lucy’s steady hand. I delayed this as much as possible, dragging us all over town this afternoon. But it’s time to go now.

- Do you want me to wait here? Lucy offers.

- No. I need you with me.

- Alright, she whispers.

I don’t move. I’m taking my time to gather the courage. I appreciate Lucy’s patience too. It takes a good ten minutes before I finally lead us inside. I’ve only been here once, but I could find his grave with my eyes closed. Row eleven, grave six. The path is short. We’re there before I’ve even had time to mentally prepare. We stand in silence, but Lucy’s presence reassures me. I’m surprised to see his grave so well-kept. There are even flowers on it. Maybe Grandpa... or Leila. I asked him about her, and he said she still visits town from time to time. I haven’t had the courage to reach out to her. Too many memories would resurface. Yet, I have so many questions for her. Lost in these thoughts, I bend down to place my white rose. Lucy waits a moment before doing the same. She insisted on getting one too, right after we did the shopping for tonight. She didn’t know him, but her gesture touches me deeply. I wait for her to stand back up before nestling into her arms. I take a deep breath as Lucy rubs my back. Her presence is vital to me. It’s hard being here, facing his photo, knowing he’s really six feet under. It’s different from mourning him in Miami. This feels real.

- He would’ve been proud of you, you know?

- I hope so, I murmur. He would’ve adored you.

- Really?

I smile softly. I’m glad I brought her here. She’s trying to take my mind off things, and it’s working.

- Yeah... He accepted everyone in my life as long as they made me happy.

She nods in understanding.

- Did he know about...

- My sexuality? Yeah. For some reason, he figured it out right away. Well... I did talk a lot about Mapi with a dreamy smile on my face.

- And... how did it go?

- I didn’t even have to tell him. We were at the dinner table one night when I came back here. After I rambled on about the things Mapi and I had done, he looked me straight in the eye and said, “Sweetie, is she your girlfriend? Because, you know, I wouldn’t mind if she is.”

I mimic his line, making Lucy laugh. I smile too. I really have nothing to complain about in that area. He accepted me, completely. All he cared about was that I was happy. The only thing that truly mattered to him was that I remembered the importance of family and loved ones. I get that now. That’s why he left me so many promises to keep—like with Mom and Joan...

- He was the only man I knew with such a big heart. So yes... he would’ve adored you, especially knowing how you saved me.

- I think it would’ve been mutual, she whispers.

We stay like that for a while. Normally, I would’ve poured out my heart, but with Lucy here, I don’t. We just enjoy the quiet. Eventually, the night starts to fall, signaling we’ve been here for at least an hour. Lucy really has extraordinary patience.

- Let’s go, I murmur.

- Are you sure? We can stay longer.

- No, it’s alright, I assure you. Thank you for coming with me.

- OK... she breathes. Let’s go then.

I’ll probably come back on my own another time. Lucy loves her morning walks on the beach, so I’ll take advantage of that. Hand in hand, we head back home. We set up a little camp on the beach earlier. We wanted to prepare for tonight with a campfire. We bought barbecue supplies and even marshmallows. It’s shaping up to be a great evening. As we arrive, Buzz runs up to greet us. Lucy says she’ll handle the fire while I gather some blankets. It’s getting chilly, and the last thing we need is to catch a cold...

5

- "Oh no. I'll leave you two alone tonight," my grandfather declines. "The neighbor invited me to dinner anyway."  

- "Really? Nick's dad?" I asked. "I saw him this afternoon, by the way. Why didn’t you tell me he was back?"  

- "Oh, I didn’t want to worry you with that. Did he tell you about his mother?"  

- "Yes," I sighed. "How are things between him and his father?"  

In fact, I had thought a lot about it this afternoon. His father was an alcoholic, which was the main reason his mother filed for divorce. Since he kept the house, I knew he’d gotten sober and even remarried, but I doubt his forced return brought any joy, knowing Nick.  

- "Nick is a good boy," he replied. "He’s struggling with the situation, but he channels his anger in a positive way. He’s rarely home. Actually, he often comes here to help me fix a few things. Or he takes Buzz for a walk."  

- "Yeah, he told me."  

I chuckled, remembering what he had added. Honestly, I think he’s happy to spend time here. It’s like a kind of refuge. I also understand why Buzz loves him so much too.  

- "Will he be with you tonight?" I asked.  

- "No. I think he’s going to his girlfriend’s."  

- "Okay..." I murmured. "Too bad."  

I would have invited him with us if I had known. I think Lucy wouldn’t have minded.  

- "Well, I’m heading out then. Are you sure you don’t want to change your mind?"  

- "Oh, no no. I really meant it when I said you two should enjoy yourselves together."  

- "You’re not a bother if that’s what worries you."  

- "Ona, sweetheart. It’s fine, I promise. Look, I’ve already got the wine to bring to the neighbor’s."  

- "Okay, I won’t insist anymore. You know where to find us if you need anything."  

- "Yes, yes," he laughed.  

I left to join my girlfriend and... Buzz. That dog has completely forgotten about me in favor of my girlfriend. He adores her. Well, she does take him running every morning. He must feel alive again in just a week. Though, not as much after what I just learned.  

- "He didn’t want to come?" my girlfriend asked when she saw me alone.  

- "No. Mister got himself invited by the neighbor," I joked.  

- "Oh. Well, that’s good. At least now you know he still has a social life."  

- "True... when you put it like that," I giggled.  

I spread a blanket on the ground. Lucy set up some kind of tent, or something you could call one. It’s more like a tarp, really, but it’s pretty cool. It shields us from the wind later at night. I smiled as she was already turning sausages over the fire. It’s simply perfect. Plus, the sun was finally setting, giving us a stunning sunset. I really feel like I’m on vacation.  

- "I brought you a sweater if you want," I told her, showing the clothing in my hand.  

- "Thanks."  

She quickly slipped it on over her t-shirt. I didn’t want to grab anything more, even though she was in shorts and flip-flops. She admitted to me that she loved feeling the sand under her feet. As for me, I stole one of her sweatshirts and a pair of bermuda shorts. They’re a bit big, but I feel so comfortable in her clothes. They smell so much like her, it’s delightful.  

- "Come sit," I said, patting the spot next to me after sitting down myself.  

- "Two minutes. Let me finish here first. Hey, check the cooler and get us something to drink."  

I smiled and nodded. To be honest, we bought a bottle of champagne. Who knows why. In any case, I happily popped the cork and poured us two glasses. Meanwhile, Lucy had prepared two plates for us. The evening went on. We talked, we laughed, never losing sight of the waves and the setting sun in front of us. Our legs constantly touched. We rubbed, we caressed each other, until the blanket ended up over our shoulders after we got rid of the plates and empty glasses. If time could stop, I would let it.  

- "Do you... do you think you know everything Feli did to me?"  

My question broke the peaceful silence. I was completely slumped on Lucy, who was supporting both our weights. She didn’t answer right away. The truth is, I need to know. Mapi was right in a way. I can’t hide it from her forever.  

- "I think so, yes," she murmured.  

I turned around at her words to straddle her. I needed to look into her eyes if I was going to tell her. Her hands instinctively rested on my thighs. It’s been a long time since I’ve pulled away from her touch, and it feels good. I feel like I’m coming back to life, able to accept any kind of contact.  

- "You don’t have to tell me, Ona... I’ve understood. You wouldn’t have been so broken otherwise."  

I nodded as a few tears welled up in my eyes. I had never dared to say it out loud. Saying it would mean acknowledging it. Yet here, with her, I just feel at peace.  

- "I-I want her to pay. F-for her violence, her acts, and those r-rapes too. Y-you’re absolutely right. S-she doesn’t deserve to get away with it."  

Lucy nodded, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. With her other hand, she stroked my back, sending shivers down my spine. But my decision was made. I want to take her to court. I’m ready to do it now. I know it’s the last thing I need to do to close this chapter of my life.  

- "It’s going to be hard, you know that, right?"  

I nodded. I felt shaky because I knew many wounds would reopen, but I knew it was the right thing to do. He doesn’t deserve to get away unscathed.  

- "I-I can do it, with you."  

I looked at her pleadingly, but her small smile said it all. She had been waiting for this, for me to free myself from my past. It had been a long time since she wanted to reopen the case my mother had prepared for me back then.  

- "We’ll do it together, I promise you, my love."  

Gently, she laid me down on my back, coming to rest over me. She kissed me tenderly before whispering:  

- "You are the strongest woman I know. I’m so proud of you."  

I let myself be carried away by her soft lips. Everything had changed so much in just a few seconds. Everything became sensual. I clung desperately to her neck as her hand roamed freely over my body. I caught my breath when she started playing with the hem of my bermuda shorts.  

- "Are you kidding?" I whispered, amused.  

I was dying to, after such an emotional moment, but we were out in nature. It wasn’t reasonable.  

- "What? Don’t you like adventure?" she teased between kisses on my neck. "You know I wouldn’t do it in the house."  

- "Someone could see us," I replied, without actually stopping her hand from sliding down.  

The temptation was just too strong.  

- "There’s the tarp," she murmured, still kissing my neck.  

I gasped when she reached my... soaked heart. Yes, that’s the right word.  

- "Dare tell me you don’t want this," she whispered. "Just be discreet this time."  

- "Oh, you’re talking about me?" I managed to say, shivering at her first caresses. "Let’s see who can control themselves better."  

I followed my words by unbuttoning her shorts. I don’t know why, but I have a feeling this night is going to be long... A long night filled with love under a starry sky

[winxanity-ii]

IN THE SILENCE

ship: inumaki x fem!reader warnings: non-explicit word count: 2.6k a/n: not me beefing with my sis and making comfort fics as a destressor

★·.·´🇯‌🇺‌🇯‌🇺‌🇹‌🇸‌🇺‌ 🇰‌🇦‌🇮‌🇸‌🇪‌🇳‌ 🇲‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌`·.·★

You couldn't breathe in that dorm room. Not with the way Jiro's words echoed in your mind like a twisted symphony of your worst fears. "You're overreacting, Y/N. It's not that big of a deal." Her voice had been sharp, cutting through your defenses like a blade.

It left you feeling raw, like your skin had been stripped away, leaving you exposed and vulnerable.

So, you did the only thing you could think of—you stormed out, slamming the door behind you with a force that made the walls tremble. You didn't care who heard. Let them.

You needed air, space, something that didn't have her name written all over it.

The night air was cool against your heated skin as you wandered the campus grounds, aimlessly walking with no destination in mind. You just needed to move, to put as much distance between yourself and Jiro as possible.

Each step was a desperate attempt to escape the suffocating fog of doubt she’d wrapped around you.

Was she right? Were you just overreacting?

A part of you—a small, insistent voice at the back of your mind—whispered that maybe she was. Maybe you were just being sensitive, blowing things out of proportion. But another part of you, the part that had walked out of that room, screamed that she was wrong. That you were justified in your feelings.

But which one was real?

You stopped walking, realizing you'd reached the fountain in the center of campus. Its gentle splashing was almost hypnotic, the water sparkling under the soft glow of the nearby lampposts.

You took a seat on the edge, your legs feeling like they couldn't support you anymore.

For a moment, you just sat there, staring into the rippling water, trying to find some sort of clarity in the chaos of your thoughts.

A deep sigh escaped your lips, followed by a soft sniffle. You quickly wiped at your eyes with the back of your hand, frustrated that you were even crying in the first place. "Why am I like this?" you muttered to yourself, your voice barely more than a whisper. It was a question you'd asked yourself a thousand times before, and you still didn’t have an answer.

You tilted your head back, looking up at the sky. The night was clear, stars scattered across the inky blackness like diamonds. It was beautiful, but it didn’t bring you the peace you were hoping for.

Instead, it made you feel small, insignificant. Like your problems were nothing compared to the vastness of the universe. But that didn't make them hurt any less.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t notice when someone sat down next to you. It was only when you felt the slight shift in the bench that you glanced over, startled.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t notice when someone sat down next to you. It was only when you felt the slight shift in the bench that you glanced over, startled.

A young man was sitting beside you, his presence somehow calm, almost comforting. He wore black sweats and a matching hoodie, the hood pushed down to reveal tousled, silver hair that caught the faint light from the lamppost nearby.

His face was partially obscured by a black mask that covered his mouth, but his eyes were clear, a soft lavender shade that seemed to shimmer under the night sky. They were soft, kind, with a hint of curiosity as he looked at you.

You stared at him for a moment, surprised by his sudden appearance. He didn't say anything, just gave you a small nod, as if acknowledging your presence but not wanting to intrude.

You looked away, back at the sky, feeling oddly self-conscious now that someone else was here.

For a moment, the two of you just sat there in silence, the only sound the gentle splashing of the fountain.

You wiped at your eyes again, trying to get rid of any evidence of your tears. The last thing you needed was a stranger seeing you like this. But you could still feel his eyes on you, not judging, just...observing.

It was like he was waiting, but you didn't know for what.

You took a deep breath, the cool night air filling your lungs, and let it out slowly.

The silence between you felt heavy, almost tangible, but not uncomfortable. It was like he was giving you the space you needed, but also letting you know that you weren't alone.

And somehow, that made you feel a little better.

The silence stretched on for several minutes, neither of you saying a word. It was almost surreal, sitting next to a stranger and finding comfort in the quiet presence of someone you didn't know.

But there was something grounding about it, like his calm was seeping into your chaos, soothing the turmoil you'd been drowning in all evening.

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye. He hadn't moved, just sat there, looking up at the sky as if he were admiring the stars.

There was something about his stillness that made you feel like it was okay to just be. To not have to put on a brave face or force yourself to keep it together.

Then, after what felt like an eternity, he turned towards you. Slowly, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small sticky note pad and a pen. You watched as he quickly scribbled something down, his handwriting neat and precise, before peeling the note off and holding it out to you.

You hesitated for a moment before taking it, your fingers brushing against his for the briefest second. Your eyes skimmed over the words, and you felt something inside you twist painfully.

You okay?

It was such a simple question, but it shattered the fragile control you’d been holding onto. You stared at the note, the tears you’d fought so hard to keep at bay filling your eyes once more. You shook your head, feeling the weight of everything crash down on you all over again.

"No," you whispered, your voice barely audible. Then, before you knew it, the words started pouring out of you in a rush, as if his silent support had unlocked something inside you. "I don't know. Maybe she's right. Maybe I'm just… crazy or something."

You glanced at him, but he just looked back, his eyes soft, urging you to continue. So you did.

"In the past, I've always been told I was blunt or cold, you know? Like I didn't care about anyone's feelings. And yeah, I was like that, but I didn't know any better. I thought being honest meant being straightforward, even if it hurt people." You took a shaky breath, the words spilling out faster now, almost tripping over themselves. "But then I realized, I realized that my actions, my words—they affect people. So I worked on it. I tried to change, to be more empathetic, more understanding. And it was hard, but I did it. I really thought I did."

You felt the tears slipping down your cheeks, and you wiped them away angrily, frustrated with yourself for being so emotional. "But now... it's like... like it doesn't even matter. It's like karma or something, having to deal with someone like her. One moment, she's my best friend, and the next, it's like she hates me. She says I'm overreacting, that I'm being too sensitive, and maybe I am. But it just… it hurts, you know?"

You looked away, staring at the fountain again, the words still tumbling out. "It's like I can't win. No matter what I do, it's not enough. I try to be better, to do better, but it's like she's always there to remind me that I'm not. And I know she's my friend, but it feels like I'm dorming with a stranger. Someone who knows exactly how to push my buttons and make me feel like I'm the one who's messed up. Maybe I am messed up."

Your shoulders shook as you let out a bitter laugh, more tears streaming down your face. You didn't even try to stop them this time. "Maybe she's right, and I'm just crazy, just some messed-up person who doesn't deserve to be happy. I don't know."

You ran a hand through your hair, your fingers trembling as you tried to catch your breath. "I'm sorry, I'm rambling," you muttered, wiping at your eyes again. "You don't need to hear all this. You probably think I'm a mess."

But the figure didn't move, didn't look away. He just sat there, his eyes never leaving you, listening to every word like it was the most important thing in the world.

He didn't judge or try to tell you that you were wrong or right. He just let you talk, let you spill out all the things you'd been holding in for so long.

By the time you finished, you felt like you'd run a marathon. But there was also a strange sense of relief, like a million bricks had been lifted off your shoulders.

You took a deep, shuddering breath, feeling lighter than you had in weeks, maybe even months.

He reached into his pocket again, pulling out a small packet of tissues. He took one out and handed it to you silently, his eyes still on you, filled with understanding. You took it, your fingers brushing against his again, and mumbled a quiet, "Thanks," as you dabbed at your eyes, trying to clean up the mess you’d made of your face.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The silence was back, but it was different now. It wasn't heavy or suffocating. This time it felt warm, almost like a soft blanket wrapping around your shoulders, comforting and safe.

You weren't sure what to say, or if you even needed to say anything at all. The tears had stopped, and with them, some of the ache in your chest had faded too.

You glanced at him again, wanting to express your gratitude, even though words felt inadequate for what he'd just given you—space to be yourself, without judgment.

"Thank you," you whispered, your voice still shaky but sincere. "For… listening. I really needed that."

He tilted his head slightly, as if contemplating your words, then reached for his sticky note pad again. It took him only a moment to jot something down before he peeled the note off and handed it to you.

No big deal.

You let out a small, breathy laugh, the corners of your lips lifting as you read his message. It was so simple, yet it made your heart swell in your chest.

You looked up at him, meeting his gaze. His eyes were kind, crinkling slightly at the edges as if he were smiling behind his mask. There was a warmth in them that made you feel seen, truly seen, in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time.

You stood up, feeling a little steadier on your feet now. The cool night air brushed against your skin, the fountain's gentle splashing filling the silence.

He stood up as well, and you found yourself looking up at him—way up.

You hadn't realized it before, but he was tall, much taller than you. You barely reached under his chin, your nose almost brushing against the soft fabric of his hoodie as you straightened.

Your eyes widened slightly as you took in the small detail, feeling oddly self-conscious about the height difference. You took a step back, clearing your throat, trying to find the right words to say goodbye. But before you could speak, he raised a hand slowly, hesitantly.

You froze, your heart pounding in your chest as you watched his movements with wide eyes.

His hand hovered above your head for a moment, as if he was debating whether or not to go through with it.

Then, ever so gently, he placed his hand on top of your head, his touch light and careful, like he was afraid you might break if he applied too much pressure. He gave your head a soft pat, his fingers brushing against your hair before pulling away.

A harsh blush filled your face, spreading from your cheeks to the tips of your ears. You stared up at him, stunned, your heart skipping a beat.

Here you were, standing in the middle of the campus at night, unable to see his face, yet feeling like he'd just done something incredibly intimate.

It was such a small gesture, but it felt like it meant everything.

You didn't know what to say, your mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. He just watched you, his eyes crinkling again with that invisible smile. There was a softness to his gaze, a gentleness that made your heart flutter in a way that was both confusing and strangely comforting.

"I—um, thank you," you stammered, your voice barely more than a whisper. You couldn't bring yourself to look away, not when his eyes were so warm, so steady. "For everything."

He just nodded, his shoulders rising and falling in a silent laugh, as if he found your flustered state amusing. He scribbled something quickly on his notepad and held it out to you.

You're welcome.

You took the note, your fingers trembling slightly as you read the words. They were simple, straightforward, but there was something about them that made your chest feel tight, like your heart was too big for your ribs to contain. You swallowed hard, looking up at him again.

"I—well, I should go," you said, your voice awkward and unsure. You took a step back, then another, your eyes still locked on his. He didn't move, just watched you with that same quiet expression, his eyes soft and unreadable. "I—um, goodnight."

You turned, your heart racing as you started to walk away, the cool night air feeling like a welcome balm against your flushed skin. You could still feel the warmth of his hand on your head, the gentle pressure lingering like a ghost of a touch.

You glanced back over your shoulder, unable to help yourself.

He was still standing there, his hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie, watching you with those steady, kind eyes. He lifted a hand in a small wave, his fingers curling in a silent goodbye.

You waved back, a shy smile tugging at your lips, before turning away again and heading towards your dorm.

Your mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, your heart still fluttering like a trapped bird in your chest. You didn't even know his name, didn't know anything about him, but there was something about him that felt… different.

Like maybe, just maybe, things could be okay. Like maybe you weren't alone after all.

As you reached your dorm, you glanced down at the sticky notes in your hand, the words blurring slightly as tears filled your eyes again. But this time, they weren't tears of sadness. They were tears of something else, something warmer, softer.

Hope, maybe.

You smiled, a real smile, as you tucked the notes carefully into your pocket. Maybe tonight had been terrible, but it had ended with something good. Something unexpected.

And as you climbed the stairs to your room, you couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, you’d see him again.

And that thought, more than anything, made you feel like things might just turn out okay after all.

A/N: ignore me y'all, im on my period and in my feelings at the moment, just a little senstive. 😭 (p.s tell me why my sister and i made up by the time i finished writing this 💀)

[moonstruckme]

hi i lovelovelove your fics and i’m wondering if you are taking requests… if you could write a fic with steve and shy!reader who calls him a pet name or nickname for the first time ❤️

Thank you for requesting <3

Steve Harrington x shy!reader ♡ 710 words

Dew drops collect on your skin as you walk to Steve’s house. It’s a quiet morning, fog hanging in heavy clumps as birds call to each other through the haze. You hope Steve has coffee. 

You knock quietly. His footsteps banging down the stairs answer far louder. 

The door swings open to reveal your boyfriend with his toothbrush in his mouth, his hair all in disarray, and his clothes clearly only just thrown on. 

“Sorry,” he says in greeting, words garbled through a foam of toothpaste. “I thou I cou get ready in five min-us, bu—” Steve spits in the kitchen sink “—I couldn’t.” He gives you a sheepish smile. “You look really pretty.” 

Warmth kisses your cheeks. “Thanks, so do you,” you say earnestly. “I mean, you look nice. Your shirt’s on backwards, though.” 

Steve looks down at the tag poking up near his throat. “Oh, shit.” 

He rinses his mouth out with water from the tap, spitting again in the sink before setting his toothbrush down on the edge. When he pulls his arms inside to turn his shirt around, the process shows a sliver of abdomen that your eyes catch on before you drop them to the floor, flushing for real now. Steve combs his hair back with his fingers, walking around the counter to you.

“Hi,” he says, hand cupping the side of your neck as he gives you a spearmint-flavored kiss. “Coffee’s in the pot. Sorry I’m holding us up, I hope we don’t miss the sunrise because of me.” 

“That’s okay,” you say, though you hope you can still catch it. It’s all really just an excuse to spend time with Steve anyway. You move past him to the fridge, getting out the cream while he pours coffee into two thermoses to take with you. 

A piece of hair falls into his face as he looks down, and he swipes it back impatiently. It’s still pretty unruly from sleep; he clearly hasn’t had time this morning to give it the attention he likes to, and it warms your heart to think that he’d put that aside so you could get to go see the sunrise. It also makes you want to say to hell with the sunrise and comb your fingers through his hair until he’s happy with it. 

“I’m almost ready to go,” he swears. “I just had the worst sleep last night.” 

“Oh, really?” The areas under his eyes do look a little shadowy. The thought hooks your eyebrows upward. “I’m sorry, baby.” 

The word slips out of you so naturally, your voice bent and softened by sympathy, that for a moment you hope that Steve won’t notice. And for a moment, it seems like maybe he doesn’t. But then he sets the thermos down, dark brows twitching towards each other. He tilts his head to look at you. 

“Baby?” he asks, bordering on incredulous.

“Sorry,” you say automatically. You think your palms are sweating. 

“No, don’t be sorry.” Steve’s smile blooms slowly, better than any sunrise, and you can’t tell if he’s about to make fun of you. You think if he does you might have to cancel this whole thing. “It just surprised me. S’that something you wanna call me?” 

“I don’t know.” You can’t look at him. You use the coffee as an excuse, pulling your thermos toward you to start stirring in cream. When you’re done, you pass it over to Steve without glancing up. 

But he’s not having it. He sets the cream aside, slotting his fingers behind your ear with your cheek in the basin of his palm and tilting you towards him. He looks like he’s making fun of you, definitely.

Your heart hiccups.

“It just slipped out,” you confess. 

“Okay,” Steve laughs. “That’s okay, I liked it. Feel free to let it slip as many times as you want.” He slides his thumb along your skin, no doubt feeling its heat. His voice is sweet when he asks, “You about ready to go, baby?” 

You feel your forehead pinch painfully. “Don’t,” you plead. 

“I don’t know,” Steve says, though he lets you go to tend to his coffee, a small mercy. “I think you’ve really started something here. I could get used to this.”

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

Reneé x Reader

Where Reader is super shy and Reneé finds it cute

They are doing an interview or something and reneé has a hand on her at all time to help her ?

Lights, Camera... Anxiety

|| Reneé Rapp x fem!reader

|| Warnings; swearing, anxiety but it's fluffy I promise

|| Summary; reader was doing her first interview with Reneé, Reneé had invited her on as a sort of formal introduction as her girlfriend. Since she has talked about it during her shows, but never fully expressed it. Reader's more than a little nervous.

Requests open!

Started; september 23rd

Finished; september 24th

~~~

"Oh, God." Were your first words out of your mouth this morning the moment you realized what day it was. Interview day. You'd obviously done job interviews before... but this? This was NOT a job interview. This was a recorded interview for Buzzfeed. To say you were nervous was an understatement.

Reneé laid in bed next to you, murmuring something when her arm came and wrapped around your body. Pulling you impossibly close as her eyes fluttered open, her gaze half lidded as she watched you with concern in her eyes. "Mm, baby? What's wrong?"

The panic in your eyes didn't leave as you looked at her, her touch definitely helped you relax. Even just a little," we have that interview today."

"Huh?" She looked at you with confusion before it clicked in her head what you meant. Reneé had almost internally forgotten about it," oh shit." Her panic was different than yours. The stress of getting ready for the interview as opposed to the actual interview itself.

She looked at the clock and sighed," we've got time before we have to start getting ready. C'mere." Reneé mumbled, pulling you into your arms. She hadn't noticed right away how stressed you were, until she felt how quickly your chest was moving. She adjusted herself so she hovered just above you. Arms rested on either side.

With brows narrowed in concern, she studied you. Noting how you couldn't meet her eyes, how you seemed to tremble just a little. Reneé took your chin in her hand, thumb gently rubbing across your jawline in a soothing motion.

"Look at me, baby. What did I tell you yesterday?" Reneé asked, her tone soft and soothing.

Yesterday. That felt like so long ago right now. You forced your mind to try to remember the exact moment she was referring to through your growing anxiety. It wasn't easy, but you think you found it. Although you weren't about to say the moment she wanted you to, you went with another one as you smirked at her," 'Nice ass'?" You quoted.

Heat flushed through Reneé's cheeks and she rolled her eyes at your response," ha ha. Cute, but no. And I know you know what I'm talking about."

"Don't worry about the interview, just follow me'." You quoted her again and she smiled at you, giving your forehead a kiss.

"Exactly. You're gonna do fine."

The day seemed to go by quickly, almost too quickly for your liking. Soon enough you were on the interview couch with Reneé next to you and the interviewer across from you in his own chair.

He offered the two of you a smile," Reneé Rapp and Y/N L/N, ladies and gentlemen!" He introduced the two of you to the camera before looking your way again," Reneé! Lovely to have you again."

"Happy to be here," Reneé smiled, giving your hand a subtle reassuring squeeze. The two of you sat close, the only thing keeping you at a slight distance was your hands intertwined together in the middle. You had asked Reneé prior if she could hold your hand throughout the interview. She, obviously, agreed.

The interviewer didn't seem to have an issue with it, if anything they were encouraging the two of you to be coupley. Wanting to boost their views off it.

"Tell us who you've brought with you today," The interviewer continued.

"I think she can introduce herself," Reneé looked at you, her eyes soft and encouraging," can't you, baby?"

You tried your damn hardest not to stutter over your words, though you fumbled a little anyways," I'm her girlfriend, Y/N L/N."

Reneé gave your hand another squeeze, her eyes showing nothing but love and pride for you. With how nervous you'd been all day, she was worried about how this would go for you. But you seem to he handling yourself just fine.

"I understand Reneé recently announced that she was dating someone, it's lovely to formally meet you. Now, how long has this relationship been going on for?" The interviewer asked.

You instinctively looked at Reneé, feeling your nerves kick up again. Reneé seemed relatively calm. As though she wasn't nervous at all.

"A little over five months now," She answered confidently. You nodded and rested your head on her shoulder to be closer, she gave your forehead a kiss and the interviewer smiled.

"Five months? That's quite a lot of time. I assume the L word has been said already?"

Your cheeks flushed and your eyes went to Reneé's again, she met your gaze with a loving smile," yes." She answered.

"Who said it first?" He asked.

"I did," You murmured, remembering the moment vividly.

Reneé had taken you out on a nice dinner date for your birthday, which happened just over a month into the relationship. You hadn't even realized you had said the words until Reneé was kissing you and saying them back.

Reneé nodded," she beat me to it. I was already planning on saying it that night since it was Y/N's birthday."

The interviewer laughed a little," that's cute. Going off of the lines of firsts, who kissed who?"

"That was all her," You pointed to Reneé with a grin and she rolled her eyes, giving your finger a playful swat.

"It was definitely me." Reneé confirmed.

"How'd that happen?" He asked.

"Well, I was just getting off stage from a show I had invited Y/N too. She ran up to me with like the biggest smile on her face, absolutely gushing about everything and I couldn't help it. She was just too cute," Reneé lifted your intertwined hands to her lips, giving your knuckles a kiss.

You couldn't help but giggle at that. Feeling much more relaxed than you had at the start of the day.

That was just like Reneé, though. She always knew how to calm your nerves no matter what it was you were doing. It's part of why you loved her so much. She just... understood you.

[derpydoteddrake]

An analisis on the symbolism of this shot and what it means for Jayce and Viktor

(this does not contain any le*ks, only material that has been officially released so far.)

But first to understand what this shot means, his connection to the new magic and how this relates to his relationship with Viktor, we need to look at what his bracelet represents.

He got the crystal for his bracelet by a mage who saved him from an impossible situation, this implanted in him a lifelong obsession with the idea that if he could give this tool to people, he could greatly improve the lives of many.

But since he knew they would not allow experiments like this in Piltover in normal circumstances, he needed to do it in secret. This is what at that moment the bracelet represents.

His conviction is so strong, this goal is so important to him that he made the reminder of that fateful encounter something that he can not just carry, but wear it on himself everywhere he goes. However it is hidden, the same way he needs to hide his research.

But then he is found out, his research is going to be destroyed, and he loses all hope in completing his dream. So he takes the bracelet off, as a symbol on how he is given up. But then Viktor comes into the picture.

He gives his bracelet back and with it his hope for his dream, it's no longer something he has to burden himself alone, it's not just Jayces dream anymore, and so he declares: our hextech dream.

And this gesture and this declaration changes the meaning behind this bracelet, it's not just a symbol of his dream anymore, it's now a symbol of their shared dream of helping people and in turn their relationship and partnership.

This thematic connection is later emphasized when he complains about being useless in the face of Viktors illness and his frustration about not being able to develop the technology he wants to and he reflexively tuches it.

And after he no longer needs to hide it and he can fully pursue his dream, he puts it on proud display, he turns the crystal upside down and even has clothing that lets his bracelet show, he is proud of they work and he shows that off.

But in the shot we got for the crystal to embed itself in that way, he needed to turn the bracelet upside down. And why would he do that? Well, he would need to be so disillusioned with their dream, so ashamed of letting Viktor down that he doesn't even want to be reminded of it.

I dont think it's a controversial thing to say that Jayce will have a chance to destroy the core and he won't, which initially Viktor will be mad about, but later allow Viktor to do his shenanigans with it. Thematically that would make sense.

But the bracelet isn't just worn in a different way, that would be reversible, the crystal is literally burned into him with a crack in the middle. It is irreversible. What does that symbolize?

Easy, they didn't just lost they dream,

THEY DREAM IS DEAD

The crystal is no longer a symbol of his hopes and dreams and a wonderful relationship, It is a symbol of his failure to do good with hextech, broken promises, and letting down his closest friend.

it is grotesquely melted into him forever, a reminder how he cannot escape the reality he helped create. Giving hextech to people is no longer a dream, it is real and it's a nightmare, he didn't improve anyone's lives who needed it, he made weapons to oppress.

And the gem is cracked in the middle, mirroring his broken relationship with Viktor, the man he let down over and over again, he wasn't there when he needed him, he went against his will and made weapons, and he failed to fulfill his promise to him.

Since we saw Viktor will gain the ability the transform people, I would teorise that he will be the one who will melt the crystal and metal into him in a heated argument. (tho his powers are distinctly purple)

It is not something he wants to remember, but it is something he will have to carry for the rest of his life.

And now Viktors mind is twisted, he was not strong enough to destroy the core when his mind was still intact and now Viktor commits horrific acts in the name of trying to do ultimately good.

And so the bracelet is not just a reminder of his failure, but also a reminder of the promise he will have to fulfill one way or another.

[hungermakesmonsters]

Devotion & Desire

Chapter Four

Plot summary : When you, a lone omega, move in across the hall from alpha Bucky Barnes, he knows that his life is about to get a lot more complicated, but he has no idea just how much you’re going to turn his life upside down. You’re both devoted to fixing your past mistakes, but will desire for something more get the better of you?

Pairing : Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Omega!Reader

Story Rating : R 

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Explicit smut and omega heat stuff. All chapters will contain the usual omegaverse and A/B/O tropes, and explicit smut. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : 6.2k

A/N : 😅 still trying to walk the fine line between plot and smut

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE

MASTER LIST

Chapter Four

It felt like a fever dream, like some terrible nightmare that started to fade from memory the moment your eyes opened. Only, it wasn’t. It had happened.

Bucky had -

No.

No. 

You didn’t even want to think about it. Regardless of how much it had helped, and how much you might have needed it at the time, you felt nothing but regret. Closing your eyes, you were assaulted by vivid memories of the way he’d touched you, the way you’d moaned for him, and perhaps worst of all, the way you’d kissed him.

Hours later, his scent still lingered in the room, mixed with yours, making you feel dizzy, giddy.

Somehow, you managed to pull yourself from the crude little nest you’d throw together with little more than sheets, sofa cushions and a couple of towels.

Everything ached and just the exertion of standing up and pulling on your leggings had your skin coated in a layer of sweat. You felt awful. And, as you took a step away from the bed, you felt like you were going to fall down. But you couldn’t stop. You needed to find Bucky. You needed him to know that it had been a mistake.

Staggering, you made your way to the door, weakly pulling it open and almost falling through it. But then another scent assaulted your senses; another alpha, someone you didn’t recognise.

He looked up at you, an easy smile pulling on his lips and, for a second, there was a faint hint of recognition. You thought you recognised him. But you couldn’t place how or where from. Your mind was a haze, the fog of your heat making it difficult for you to think straight.

“Hey, I’m Sam,” he said, clearly noticing your confusion. “I’m a friend of Bucky’s.”

“Where is he?” You asked, gripping the doorframe for support.

“He needed to go out, didn’t tell me where. I don’t know if you’ve noticed this, but he’s not exactly an open book,” Sam answered, letting out a warm sort of laugh that told you he and Bucky were close. “He asked me to keep an eye on you, in case you needed anything.”

Your eyes widened, thoughts heading in an unsettling direction. He’d asked another alpha to take care of you?

“Not like that,” Sam quickly clarified, holding up his hands, wanting to make sure there was no confusion. “I brought you some things.”

He gave a nod of his head towards two bags on the floor, a backpack, and a shopping bag filled with womens clothes.

“There’s some of my sister's clothes in there, she’s a beta and a bit bigger than you, but they should be alright,” he explained and you offered a muttered thank you.

You decided to keep your distance, clinging to the door frame while your legs trembled beneath you. Your eyes dropped for a moment, struggling with a strange mixture of feelings welling up inside you.

You felt abandoned by Bucky, even though you didn’t want him around in the first place. And you longed for him, despite hating him. Shaking your head, you tried to clear your mind and stop all the racing thoughts and unsettling feelings. It was just your heat making you feel things that you knew weren’t real, your biology trying to make you into a good omega for an alpha you had the misfortune of craving.

Looking at Sam again, you realised he was watching you, and recognition finally sparked within you.

“Wait... you’re the Falcon... or is it Captain America now?” The confusion was clear in your voice, only sounding half convinced that he was who you believed him to be.

“Just Sam is fine,” he replied with that easy smile.

You weren’t sure what it was about him, but he felt safe, like he was the sort of guy to wear his heart on his sleeve, unlike Bucky who was gruff and guarded. How the two of them could be friends, you couldn’t even begin to understand. So, you asked.

“Why is Captain America helping the Winter Soldier?” 

“Because Bucky isn’t the Winter Soldier anymore,” Sam answered. Clearly the look on your face gave away that you didn’t believe him so, a moment later, Sam continued; “he told me what happened to you - to your brother - but you have to understand that while it might have been him, it wasn’t Bucky.”

“You think just because he was under mind control that he’s any less to blame?” You answered back, unintentionally allowing some of your anger to slip into your tone.

“Do you maybe want to take a second to think about what you just said?” Sam asked, his voice still calm and friendly. Your gaze dropped, hating that some part of you knew he was right to call you out. “I know it doesn’t change how you feel and it won’t bring your brother back, but if you think for a moment that it doesn’t hurt him almost as much as it hurts you, then -”

The sound of the door had him falling quiet. For whatever reason, he didn’t want Bucky to know that he’d just been defending him to you.

Stepping into the apartment, Bucky looked at Sam before noticing you standing in the doorway to the bedroom.

“Are you okay?” He asked. “Should you be up?”

“We were just getting to know each other,” Sam decided to answer before you got the chance.

Bucky grimaced. “What did you tell her?”

For a moment he looked at you, seeming so genuinely concerned that his friend might have told you something terrible, and you wondered if that was just how their friendship was or if Bucky was so unsure of himself that all he could do was jump to the worst conclusion.

“He didn’t say anything I don’t already know,” you answered.

It earned a surprised look from Sam, and it was as close as you’d ever get to actually agreeing with what he’d told you. But agreement and acceptance were two different things, and you still hated the Winter Soldier and, by extension, Bucky.

“Where have you been?” You dared to ask Bucky, realising that he was carrying a familiar looking box in his hands.

“I was in the neighbourhood, so I stopped at Gracie’s for a pie,” Bucky said, finally stepping further into the apartment.

“You’ve got ex-Hydra agents looking for you and you stopped for a pie?” Sam asked, like it was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard.

“It’s - it’s really good pie,” you said, your grip tightening on the doorframe, as a wave of cramping hit.

“Did you ask her about Rumlow yet?” Sam asked, seemingly from nowhere. 

Your legs almost gave in beneath you at the sound of his name. Pressing yourself against the doorframe was the only thing that stopped you from falling. 

Bucky was in front of you in an instant, before Sam was even half out of his seat. He reached for you to steady you, but you did everything you could to pull away and remain standing under your own steam. 

“How do you know about Rumlow?” You asked, eyes moving between the two alphas.

“The guys that tried to take you, they used to work with him. We thought Rumlow died in Lagos years ago, but -” Sam explained, stopping when you shook your head.

“No... he’s alive,” you said.

“How does Rumlow fit into any of this?” Sam asked. “How do you know him?”

Your eyes drifted to Bucky, an uncomfortable feeling twisting your guts.

“He promised to help me track down and kill the Winter Soldier but he - he lied to me,” you explained without explaining, not wanting to say anything more than that.

“Why would he be after you now?” Bucky asked.

“I don’t -” a sudden surge of pain cut you off and almost had you doubling over.

Before you could even think to try and stop him, Bucky had hold of you, sweeping you off your feet with ease and carrying you back to bed. Moments later, he was gently placing you back down in your nest.

“You need to rest,” he told you softly, his fingers tenderly brushing your hair away from your face.

You struggled to keep your eyes open and Bucky took that as a sign to leave you. But, when he started to turn, you reached for him, weakly grasping his sleeve.

“We need to talk,” you told him, and watched as he glanced to the door making sure Sam wasn’t listening in. When you were both satisfied that you wouldn’t be overheard, you spoke. “Don’t go getting any ideas about last night. It - it shouldn’t’ve happened, it was just -”

“I get it,” he cut in. “I’m an alpha, you’re an omega. It’s just biology. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Good ‘cause it can't happen again,” you said, barely able to even look him in the eye as you spoke.

His jaw clenched and, for a moment it almost seemed like he was angry - or maybe he was disappointed. It was hard to tell. Either way, it seemed like your words had more of an effect than you’d anticipated.

“Fair enough,” he said, his tone quickly becoming more distant, somehow colder. “I was just trying to help.”

“I don’t need your help.”

It was a stupid thing to say because you both knew it was entirely untrue but, at that exact moment, you believed your own bullshit.

“Clearly,” he remarked sarcastically, “you seem to be doing great on your own.”

When you didn’t seem to have a witty response for him, Bucky pulled away from you, breaking your hold on him, and you watched as he left the room, pulling the door shut behind him. All you could do for a few minutes was stare at the door, wondering if you’d somehow managed to hurt his feelings. “She seems -”

“She’s a pain in the ass,” Bucky finished the thought for Sam, stalking away from the closed door. Sam just watched Bucky for a moment as he grabbed the box with the pie and headed towards the kitchen. He waited a beat before following after, watching Bucky as he removed the pie from the box and cut himself a large slice without offering any to Sam.

“Okay, this is passive aggressive even for you,” Sam remarked, nodding at the pie, indicating he wanted a slice.

Bucky huffed before cutting his friend a slice significantly smaller than his own and stalking back into the den, taking a seat on the sofa to eat.

“Listen, if this is getting to you, I can watch her and you can go do... whatever it is you do when you go off on your own,” Sam offered cautiously as he took a seat.

Sam was too busy breaking off his first bite of pie with his fork to notice the way Bucky was glaring at him but, the moment he looked up, he had his answer.

“Okay,” Sam said, deciding it wasn’t worth starting an argument over, so he changed the subject. “Torres got back to me, he says he still hasn’t found any trace of her or who he really is, but he found out about Berlin...”

The statement was allowed to hang in the air between them, not speaking until Bucky gave some indication that he wanted to hear it and, even when he received that slight nod, Sam hesitated for a moment more.

He pulled out his phone and opened the file that Torres had sent him.

“It was in February, 2009. There was a tech conference in Berlin - but not for your run-of-the-mill iPhones and games consoles. It was all military grade tech,” Sam explained, watching Bucky for any negative reactions or flickers of recollection. “We’re talking big like Stark Tech, Hammer Industries, A.I.M. -”

“I get the picture,” Bucky interrupted.

“Well, there were rumours about some new satellite tech, something that would have allowed whoever had control of it to spy on anyone, to break into any system, to watch anyone they wanted. It was years ahead of its time. From what we can tell it was the sort of thing that a group like Hydra wouldn’t want falling into the wrong hands.”

“So they sent me,” Bucky sighed. “What else did you find out?”

Again, Sam hesitated for a few seconds.

“The crime scene report from the hotel; it says her brother checked in under a false name, assumed to be travelling alone, and the crime scene photos... they show that he put up a fight...” Instead of explaining it, Sam handed his phone to Bucky, watching as he took in the crime scene photos and the evidence list before going very quiet and very still. He let a minute pass in silent contemplation before he spoke again.

“He was hiding something,” he sighed, his eyes closing for a moment and his head hanging forward, the memories flooding back to him. “I was sent to get everything he had. I got the drive with the schematics but I - I thought he was holding something back. And he was. He was protecting his sister while she hid. I tortured him and he refused to give her up...”

Putting Sam’s phone down, he stood, his slice of pie forgotten and abandoned. 

Sam didn’t say anything as Bucky walked towards the window, putting his back to his friend, not wanting Sam to see the pain and self-loathing on his face. But Sam wasn’t prepared to let him wallow.

“So, what now?” Sam asked.

“What do you mean ‘what now’?” 

“What comes next, Buck? You know why she tried to kill you, now how are you going to make amends?”

“Don’t start with the therapy-talk, Sam. I’m not in the mood,” Bucky snapped.

“Well you better get in the mood, because there’s a person in that room who needs your help, and if you’re not willing to look after her -” 

“I never said that.” Bucky turned back to face Sam, conviction clear in his voice. “Of course I’ll look after her.

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

You lost track of time the moment you were placed back in bed. You thought that you could hear their voices through the door but maybe it was just delirium from the fever playing tricks on you. Everything hurt. Your muscles ached and your joints felt stiff, and your temperature continued to climb.

Turning this way and that, you tried to get comfortable, tried to find just the right angle to lay at to make the pain stop. 

It wasn’t long before there was something else beneath the pain, that desperate longing that you couldn’t control, that need that had your hand pawing at your thighs, desperate to touch yourself but knowing that, once you started, you wouldn’t be able to stop.

The more you denied yourself, the more it hurt, until it felt like your insides were burning.

You reached for the water bottle on the nightstand, only to clumsily knock it onto the floor and, when you leaned down to try and retrieve it, your vision started to swim. 

The next thing you knew, you were on the floor. There was no telling if it was the sound of the bottle falling or your knees hitting the floor that alerted Bucky, but he was at your side in seconds, swearing and placing his hand on your forehead to feel how hot your fever was running.

“You should’ve told me it had gotten this bad,” he muttered as he scooped you off the floor and started to carry you through the apartment.

“Where are you taking me?” You asked, the words feeling heavy on your tongue.

Bucky didn’t answer, but it soon became clear. 

He took you into the bathroom, carrying you into the shower and quickly started up the cold water.

A relieved gasp left your lips at the feel of the cold water on your skin, soaking into your sweat-drenched clothes. Your head dropped onto his shoulder, letting him hold you under the water for what felt like hours. You tried to mutter something, an awkward thank you, but the words came out as little more than incomprehensible babble. Bucky simply shushed you, his arms holding you a little tighter.

It didn’t even cross your mind that you were both still dressed or that the cold must have been uncomfortable for Bucky. It finally felt like you could breathe again, like you weren’t being smothered by the fever. Your eyes closed and you relaxed in his arms, coming to the uncomfortable realisation that moments like this were why omegas needed alphas.

You shifted, moving your head, barely even noticing that you were doing it until your nose was pressed to his gland and every breath you took was him.

Somehow you managed to fall asleep in his arms, and you had no idea how long he held you under the water before drying you off as best he could and returning you to bed.

But you didn’t sleep for long and, when your eyes opened again, you found him sitting on the floor beside your bed, glancing over his shoulder at you as you reached for the fresh, cold bottle of water he’d left on the nightstand for you.

“I remember,” he told you cryptically, looking forward again, facing away from you.

“What?”

“Your brother. That night in Berlin… everything I did...”

There was something in his voice, in the slump of his shoulders, that had you remembering Sam’s words to you, and it made your stomach twist uncomfortably.

“I’m sorry,” he added a moment later. “I understand why you hate me so much now.”

It sounded genuine, it sounded like he really was sorry, like the memory of what he’d done was causing him as much pain as it did you. And you didn’t want to hear it. You weren’t prepared for any of this; after years of seeing him as a monster, having your brother’s brutal murder as your only frame of reference, you found that this contrite, apologetic Bucky didn’t fit the role of the man you wanted to blame.

And it left you annoyed. It left you feeling like all the time you’d spent, the years of your life you’d wasted and the terrible things you’d endured to get to him, to make him suffer, had all been for nothing.

How could you hurt this man who seemed so pained by his own existence?

An awkward, uncomfortable sound escaped you as you laid back, your frustration bubbling over and leaving you at a total loss.

Bucky had no idea what was going through your head, he could only assume that you were still in pain.

“It’s going to get worse, isn’t it?” He asked with a noticeable hesitation. “It gets worse after the halfway point, right?”

“Have you been Googling heats?” At any other time you would have taken a mocking tone, but you were too exhausted and overwhelmed to even think about it.

With Bucky so close, you found it harder to control your baser desires, the omega part of you that craved an alpha, that craved him. But Bucky didn’t even seem to notice.

“Yeah, I -” he let out an awkward sigh, “- I’ve never had to deal with anything like this before and I know last night wasn’t... I mean, I know you didn’t...”

Not wanting to watch him struggle, you decided to put him out of his misery and move the conversation along, if only because talking was better than thinking and you needed something to keep your mind from straying too far.

“You’ve never had an omega before?” You asked.

“Not... not like this,” he said but didn’t go into any detail about what that meant. “In the decades that I was with Hydra, they mostly kept me on ice, and I didn’t exactly get to meet anyone.”

Silence fell and he moved, lifting himself onto his knees and turning to face you. Before you could ask what he was doing, you saw him reaching for the bowl of water and the washcloth. He gently pressed it to your burning cheeks and, for a few minutes he seemed content to remain silent, but it didn’t last.

“It’s because of the suppressants, isn’t it? That’s why it’s so bad,” he asked, and you confirmed his suspicions with little more than a glance. “Why did you take them for so long?”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me.”

“Because being an omega fucking sucks,” you said with a sigh. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to feel weak and helpless all the time? To have people look at you like you only exist for a single purpose?”

He took an awkward breath, then answered. “More than you know.”

For a moment you considered his words, considered the implications. He’d been a killer, Hydra’s attack dog, only ever let off-leash when he was needed to kill someone. It had been his life, his purpose. The sense of understanding you felt was uncomfortable, further confusing how you felt about him. And you hated it. You didn’t want to feel sorry for him, you didn’t want to feel anything at all. 

“At least you’re an alpha,” you said grimly, “you get to fuck instead of being fucked.”

“It still doesn't explain the suppressants.”

“I started taking them because I didn’t want to get stuck being some alpha’s omega again...”

“Wait...” it took a second but he finally seemed to start putting it together. “You and Rumlow?”

You gave only the slightest of nods. Bucky didn’t say anything, but his silence made it obvious that he wanted you to explain.

“I was trying to track you down the Winter Soldier. I didn’t realise he was Hydra when I tried  to buy information from him.” You couldn’t look at Bucky as you spoke, as the anger started to slip into your voice. “He promised he would help me, he took me in and - I was young and stupid, and by the time I realised I was trapped, it was too late. He wanted to claim me, but I rejected him, so he did the next best thing and kept me...”

From the corner of your eye, you caught sight of his vibranium hand curling into a tight fist.

“He disappeared in the blip and I got away. Since then I’ve done everything I can to present as a beta.”

“Why is he after you now?” Bucky asked.

“I don’t know. I guess when you were looking into me, it must have flagged something somewhere, and he came looking,” you answered, feeling your stomach knot at the thought. “Brock, he - he doesn’t like to lose and he doesn’t like to be told no. He thinks I’m his...”

“Well, he’s not getting you back,” Bucky stated with an angry certainty that you didn’t understand.

You looked at him, not sure you wanted to ask and, by the time you’d decided that you probably should, it was too late. He got to his feet and headed for the door, telling you to shout if you needed anything.

For a time you just lay there, staring up at the ceiling, trying to make sense of everything that had happened, everything that was still happening.

You had wanted Bucky to suffer for killing your brother, but you wanted to be the cause of that suffering, not his own remorse over his actions. And, again, you found yourself thinking back to your conversation with Sam, the way you’d had to concede that it hadn’t even been Bucky who killed your brother.

Round and round, there was no escaping all the thoughts and questions in your head, all the things that made you angry and the things you couldn’t control.

And, soon enough, it became hard to think about anything but the torture your own body was putting you through. Your temperature started to rise again and you squirmed awkwardly, pressing your thighs together, slick starting to soak through your underwear.

Then you remembered the bags by the bedroom door, the clean clothes Sam had brought for you.

On shaky legs you made your way out of the bedroom, expecting to find Bucky on the sofa but, instead, you could hear the shower running again - why was he showering again? The thought quickly left your mind as you started rummaging through the bags. One bag was filled with womens clothes and the other -

Fuck.

The backpack was basically a bio-weapon, filled with Bucky’s clothes, shirts and sweatpants that hadn’t been laundered. And, before you knew what you were doing, you’d taken one of his shirts and were heading back to your nest with it, not thinking to close the bedroom door behind you, suddenly consumed by your baser urges.

Falling onto the bed, you pressed his shirt to your nose and inhaled his scent.

You hated yourself for how much you craved him, how much you wanted to be wrapped up in his scent, in him. You twitched and squirmed, that awful, longing ache burning through you again. It wasn’t long before your hand was reaching between your thighs and soft whines started to escape you.

At some point the shower stopped, and your eyes opened to find Bucky in the doorway, wearing nothing but a towel slung low around his waist, his eyes fixed on you. Just the sight of his exposed chest and abs, still damp from the shower, was enough to cause a dramatic spike in your arousal.

Despite your embarrassment, your hand kept moving, fingers strumming your clit through your slick-soaked panties while you held his shirt to your nose. And Bucky watched.

“Bucky...”

That moan was all the invitation he needed to cross the room. Even as he came to stand over you, your fingers didn’t stop, in fact they got faster, desperate. More little whimpers and moans escaped you, but he didn’t touch you, didn’t attempt to give you what you needed, what you craved. He just watched and his gaze alone was all it took to break your resolve.

“Please?” You finally begged.

“You sure you want my help again, little mouse?”

You nodded. Despite everything you’d told him after the last time, you nodded. Desperately. Enthusiastically. 

Bucky didn’t need any more than that, climbing onto the bed and kneeling between your legs. His hands felt cold as they slipped up your thighs to pull away your wet panties. (Somewhere in the back of your mind you realised he’d been having a cold shower, but in your needy, muddled state, you couldn’t understand why.)

Without hesitation or ceremony, a cold metal finger ran through your folds before sinking inside you, moving slowly, as if he thought you needed warming up.

Your head dropped back on the pillow and your hips started to move against his hand, desperate for more. You were so caught up in the feeling, in the need for more, for everything, that you didn’t realise he’d lowered his head until you felt his heavy breath against your inner thigh and you felt the slow drag of his tongue over your thigh gland.

A desperate moan tore from your lips, your eyes opened and you looked down to see him between your legs. The sight alone was enough to cause you to clench around his finger and leave you on the precipice of orgasm. 

Without thinking, your hand reached for him, tangling in his hair. His eyes stayed fixed on yours as his tongue ran along your gland again, this time licking higher, groaning against your skin, letting out sounds that made it seem like he was the one in need instead of you.

You jolted, back arching the moment his tongue found your clit. His free hand pressed on your stomach, pinning you down while his vibranium hand continued to slowly fuck you with a deliberately teasing pace. His tongue moved just as slowly, causing you to whimper and keen, your fingers tightening in his hair, trying to pull him closer.

The pressure built up in you slowly and the sounds you were making got more desperate and eager. 

You just about screamed when he started to suck your clit and bent his finger inside you, finding that sensitive spot, causing you to come almost instantly. As you trembled and shuddered, your hand reached for his hand on your stomach and pulled it upwards, pushing up your baggy tee-shirt and placing it on your breast. Your other hand remained in his hair, holding tight, ensuring that his head stayed between your thighs.

He stilled for a few moments, letting you ride out one orgasm before starting to lead you towards the next. A second cold, metal finger slid inside you with ease, your back arching a little, your own fingers twisting in his hair and tugging harder.

You’d told him never again, but after the second orgasm pulled from you by his fingers and his tongue, some part of you knew you wouldn’t survive if you never got to experience this bliss again.

After the third orgasm, he finally lifted his head and slowly started to move up your body, and you let him. No, you encouraged him, tugging on his hair until his face was only inches from yours. You both hesitated as he looked down at you, his fingers still fucking you at that delicious pace.

“It’s just biology,” he muttered softly, as if he was giving both of you permission to give in to each other.

Finally, you lifted your head, your lips clumsily crashing into his and igniting a desperate kiss that seemed to go on and on, until a final fourth orgasm was pulled from you. Even then, as his fingers stilled and finally slipped from your trembling body, his lips lingered against yours, and your fingers remained tangled in his hair

When your body slumped back, exhausted, Bucky remained above you for a few moments more before finally withdrawing, getting up and leaving the room, and leaving you more confused than ever. But at least some of the pain had subsided. He wasn’t gone for long.

After a few minutes he returned fully dressed and with two plates, each with a slice of pie. 

He placed one on the bed beside you before sitting back down on the floor next to your bed. Despite what you’d just done, now that it was over, he seemed to want to maintain a polite distance.

“Gracie’s apple pie?” You muttered, tired but definitely hungry enough to eat. 

Bucky gave a hum of acknowledgement. “She said it was your favourite.”

You fell silent, staring at the pie, thinking about the life you could have had; the murder plot aside, you’d liked working at Gracie’s and you liked the friends you’d made. But it was all gone now. You couldn’t go back and tell them you’d been lying to them about who you were just to get close to Bucky.

You were going to be alone again.

And that thought hurt.

“At least I get to have it one last time,” you muttered as you sat back against the headboard and started to eat.

“Last time?” He repeated, confused.

“It’s not like I can go back after... y’know all the lies and everything,” you said.

“I think they’d be a lot more understanding than you think,” he offered through a mouthful of pie.

“Right, I’ll just come out and tell them that the sweet little omega act was all a lie, and I was only being nice to them so I could get close enough to kill you,” you retorted.

Honestly, you might have laughed if it hadn’t made you feel so pathetic and alone.

“Sometimes people are willing to forgive a lot if you apologise,” Bucky shrugged.

You weren’t sure if he was suggesting that you should forgive him or trying to let you know that he’d already forgiven you. You didn’t ask. Both of you fell silent while you ate. And, not long after finishing, you managed to fall asleep again.

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

The sound of muttering woke you up. You quickly realised that it was Bucky. He was laid  on the floor in his boxers with nothing but a pillow for comfort, thrashing and grumbling in his sleep, obviously having a nightmare. He must have decided to sleep on the floor to be close in case you needed him in the night and - fuck, you didn’t even want to think about how that made you feel.

All you knew for certain - all you were willing to admit - was that you hated seeing him like that. As someone who knew what it was like to be plagued by nightmares, you wouldn’t have wished it on your worst enemy. 

You half-fell out of bed, landing on your hands and knees, before slumping down beside him. Moving closer, you pressed yourself into his side and draped your arm over his body, your face against his neck, nose inches from his gland. 

He quickly stilled and you heard a sharp inhale as he woke up.

“What -” he started, sounding exhausted and confused.

“Shut up,” you half-demanded, half-begged, not wanting to explain it to him.

He didn’t say anything else. A moment later, his arm was around you, pulling you closer. Instinctively, your leg moved over his thigh, tangling your bodies together. His hand pressed against your cheek for a moment before brushing your hair away from your face.

“You’re burning up,” Bucky muttered, “do you need -”

“No, just - just don’t move,” you whined, wanting to hold him, wanting to feel safe in his arms even though you knew it was the most dangerous place for you. “Just... please don’t move.”

“Okay, mouse...” he muttered softly, shifting just a fraction so you could share his pillow.

Slowly but surely, you felt him relax and, as he did, you did too, shifting closer so his thigh was pressed between yours. Right then, you didn’t need or want more than that, you were content just feeling his body against yours.

But, like every other still moment that you’d managed to find during your heat so far, it didn’t last.

After a few hours you woke to that awful, cramping sensation in your stomach. He was still sleeping, still holding you so tight, and you didn’t want to wake him but his thigh between yours became impossible to ignore. You started to move slowly, grinding yourself against him, slick quickly soaking your panties and his thigh. At first you tried to be gentle, but it wasn’t enough, it wasn’t what you needed.

Bucky woke to find you desperately grinding against his thigh like a feral, horny animal. If you hadn’t felt so desperate, you would have felt your cheeks burning with shame. But you were desperate and you needed something to stop the pain. You needed him.

He didn’t speak, didn’t ask what you were doing, he just pressed his thigh against you and turned his head toward yours. As your head fell back, his lips pressed to your throat, kissing, licking and sucking their way towards your gland, and causing you to let out a desperate moan.

You pressed closer still, until the only way you could get close enough was to straddle his lap. You weren’t shocked to find that he was hard - it barely even crossed your mind, too deep in your own desperate needs to think straight anymore. His hips lifted, pressing against you as you both started to move, each of you seeking something from the other as you slick quickly soaked through your panties and began to wet his boxers.

Leaning back, you pulled off your top and led his vibranium hand to your breast, moaning as a cold metal thumb brushed against your nipple. You kept him trapped beneath you, your hands on his chest, holding him down, as if you really thought that you could restrain him. But Bucky let you, he stayed exactly where you wanted him, letting you take what you needed from him.

Your moans got wilder and more desperate, his name slipping from your lips over and over again as you neared orgasm. His flesh hand gripped your hip as he continued to grind up against you, letting out little grunt and groans of his own as he stared up at you through the gloom.

As you came you felt his cock twitch between your thighs and heard his own gasped moan, and you realised that he’d come too.

You collapsed on top of him, your body trembling from your release, slick now coating your thighs and his, and something else, something soaking through Bucky’s boxers. Sprawled against his chest, you buried your face against his neck, breathing in his scent, and clinging to him, not willing to let go. Bucky’s arms wrapped tight around you, holding you as you shook and shivered, and finally fell asleep again.

End Note : Anyone who doesn't read my Billy Russo fics, and didn't see me mention it there, I just want to give a heads up that I broke a key off my laptop (the T key for anyone interested) so I'm having to use a laggy bluetooth keyboard to write atm. Sorry if any weird typos have slipped through, it's probably because of the keyboard. Anyway, hope you enjoy this chapter!!

And thanks so much for the likes/comments/reblogs on the last chapter, it really means a lot to me!

If you'd like to be tagged in future chapters, let me know!

Tag List : @greatenthusiasttidalwave @bighappypiels @maddiedrmr @dreadfulxives18 @scott-loki-barnes

@thecraziestcrayon @silas-aeiou @danzer8705 @notpotatocap

[thinkinginpen]

Jazz and Desire

a/n: This one is just to tease you guys because I felt like it: pairing: bucky x reader w/c: 4.4k warnings: romance, hinting, love, etc. summary: Going on a first date with Bucky and he takes you home.

Bucky looks at his watch for the twelfth time in the last half hour.

"Relax," you say. "You look like a college kid on his first date."

"I'm nervous," Bucky replies. He straightens his tie and sighs. It's hard to tell in the dim light of the bar, but you swear he looks a little red-faced. "It's been a while since I've done this."

"And here I thought you were some sort of World War 2 playboy." You take a sip of your drink, looking him up and down. He's a little dressed up for a dark dive like this, but you're certainly not complaining.

Bucky shrugs, trying to look casual as he takes a drink of his own. "I don't know if that's an accurate description. Most of my dates in that era never made it past second base."

You laugh. "Bucky Barnes, are you saying you were a nice boy during the war?"

"Hey, I tried to be a gentleman," Bucky says, although he's smiling. "I'll have you know, I was quite the charmer."

"And humble, too." You roll your eyes, trying to hide your smile.

"I'm serious," Bucky says, leaning in a little closer. "When I was trying to impress someone, I was the sweetest guy you'll ever meet."

His voice lowers a bit, his smile growing a little more wicked. "Until you got me alone, that is."

You raise an eyebrow, trying to keep your cool even though you can feel the heat rising in your face.

"Oh, so you were a nice boy when someone was watching but a bad boy behind closed doors?"

Bucky grins at your reaction.

"That's exactly what I'm saying. I was a good boy in public and a very bad boy in private."

He smirks and lets his eyes wander up and down your body, obviously enjoying how flustered he's making you.

You can feel your heart pounding in your chest as you try to keep up the banter.

"And what kind of bad things did you like to do behind closed doors, Sarge?"

Bucky leans in even closer, his voice lowered to a near-whisper as he murmurs in your ear.

"Let's just say it involves a lot less talking and a lot more…"

He suddenly pulls back, leaving you hanging for a moment before finishing the sentence.

"Dancing. We'd do a lot of dancing. What did you think I was going to say?"

You roll your eyes again, trying not to show just how much he's getting to you.

"Oh, I'm sure you were a real Fred Astaire in your heyday."

"I was pretty good," Bucky says, smiling smugly. "And I can still cut a pretty mean rug, if I do say so myself."

He stands up from the stool and straightens his jacket, offering you his hand. "Feel like a demonstration? I have an old record player back at my place."

You hesitate, considering. On the one hand, you were having a good time here in the relative safety of the bar. On the other hand… spending more time alone with Bucky, potentially within touching distance of his bed…

You take a deep breath and reach out, grabbing his hand. "Okay, but you better be able to back up your big talk, soldier."

Bucky grins, obviously pleased that he's talked you into this. He pulls you to your feet with his Vibranium arm as he stands up, his chest suddenly pressed against yours.

"I'll do my best, doll," he says, his voice a low murmur. "But I always deliver."

You can feel your heart racing as he pulls you close, his muscular chest pressed against yours. You can feel the heat radiating off his body, his muscles coiled under his jacket, just waiting to spring into action.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. "So, are we heading back to your place to do some dancing, or what?"

Bucky grins, clearly enjoying the effect he's having on you. "Dancing, yes. There might be some other things involved too."

He keeps hold of your hand as he guides you out of the bar and into the cool night air. The walk to his apartment is only a few blocks, but it feels like an eternity as the tension between you continues to build.

Finally, you reach his apartment building. Bucky leads you up the stairs to the third floor, unlocking the door and flipping on a light switch.

His apartment is small, but tidy. There's an old record player in the corner, and Bucky heads straight for it. He rifles through his collection of records before pulling one out and carefully placing it on the player.

"You recognize this song?" he asks as he starts the record spinning.

You nod as you recognize the opening bars of the song. It's a slow, sultry jazz number, the kind that's perfect for dancing.

Bucky holds out his regular hand for you, gesturing for you to join him in the small living room. "C'mere."

You take his hand and let him pull you into the middle of the room, then he smoothly pulls you into his arms, your body pressed against his. You can feel the hard muscle of his chest against your cheek as he starts to sway to the music, guiding you in a slow circle across the wooden floor.

Bucky's arms are strong and sure as he leads you around the room. You can feel the steady rhythm of his heart against your cheek, and the warmth of his breath as he speaks quietly in your ear.

"See? Nice, polite boy in public, and not too bad today."

He spins you out in a quick twirl, then pulls you back in tightly, your bodies now pressed even closer together.

You try to say something witty in response, but all that comes out is a small gasp as he pulls you back in. You can feel the heat of his body against yours, the firm muscles of his arms as he holds you close.

"So," you say, trying to keep your voice steady. "Is this what you did with all the girls back in the forties? Slow dancing?"

"I did a little bit more than dance," he replies, his voice a low murmur in your ear. "But yes, I did a lot of dancing."

He spins you out again, then pulls you back in with a twirl, his arms wrapping tighter around your waist. He's pressed flush against you, his hips pressed against your hips, his thighs pressed against your thighs.

You can feel your face growing warmer as you dance. Bucky's body is like a furnace pressed tightly against yours, the feel of him nearly overwhelming. You can feel the taut muscles of his arms and chest through his shirt, the heat of his breath against your skin as he murmurs in your ear.

"You know," he says, his voice low and raspy. "I wasn't joking about it getting a lot less polite in private."

"Oh really?" you reply, trying to sound casual, but your voice betrays you with a small hitch in your breath at the end.

"Mm-hm," Bucky says, his lips brushing the soft skin of your ear. "I was a real bad boy behind closed doors. In fact, some of the things I did were downright sinful…"

The low rumble of his voice combined with the warmth of his body is almost too much for you to handle. You can feel yourself starting to lose control, your body responding to his on its own.

"Oh yeah?" you say, your voice breathless. "What kind of… sinful things?"

"Oh, you know… touching… caressing…" Bucky murmurs, his lips brushing against the side of your neck, his hand tracing a lazy path down your back. "Kissing… biting…"

You let out a shuddering gasp as he kisses your neck, his lips trailing down the sensitive skin to your collarbone. The feel of his mouth on your skin is like fire, and you can feel your body responding hungrily to his touch.

"B-Bucky," you whisper, trying to gather your thoughts. "We… we shouldn't…"

"Why not?" Bucky says, his voice low and sultry in your ear. "Aren't you enjoying your date, doll?"

He starts to kiss his way back up your neck, his hand now resting at the small of your back, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your skin.

"You're a grown woman," he continues, his voice still low and intimate. "You're allowed to enjoy yourself."

Your body betrays you, leaning into his touch as he kisses your neck and shoulders. His words are making it harder and harder to resist him.

"We… we just met," you protest weakly, but you can feel yourself starting to give in.

Bucky chuckles, his breath hot against your skin. "That's never stopped me before."

You take a shaky breath as his lips brush against your ear again, his voice dropping even lower, almost a growl. "I always get what I want, doll. And right now, I want you."

His hand slides down to the curve of your hip, pulling you closer. You can feel the hard planes of his body pressed against yours, and your resistance is rapidly weakening.

Bucky starts kissing his way down your neck, his hot breath fanning across your skin as his lips travel lower and lower. You can feel yourself losing control, your eyes closing as your head tilts back, your body practically melting into his.

"B-Bucky," you whisper, your voice sounding weak. "We… we shouldn't…"

He chuckles, his voice low and intimate in your ear, his body pressed up against yours. "Oh, but I think we should."

[winchesterszvonecek]

could i please request ‘sex in a pool/hot tub’ for rafael barba

fem!reader :)

Hot Tub - [ Rafael Barba ] 18+

Prompt: Sex in a pool/hot tub

Word Count: 2678

Warnings: female!reader, smut - [vaginal fingering, semi-public masturbation]

A/N: this is my first oneshot in a while so yk, be nice :) also it’s my first one for rafael too, both in general and with smut so yeah… i wasn’t even going to post it but i figured why not? it might not be that bad so maybe yall can still enjoy it

Masterlist | Rafael Masterlist

After a long day spent on the icy slopes of Switzerland’s most famous ski resort, you were in desperate need of relaxation. 

It wasn’t easy at times, keeping up with Rafael. Of chasing his constant need for adrenaline and following through on the utter thrill of hitting the ramps, landing with perfect grace in the thick snow each and every time. To be honest, it was rather frightening. You’d never skied before in your life and the entire time you were too afraid to hit any jumps that were higher than a foot or too. Most of the time you just sat there, making small snowmen in the snow as you waited for time to tick by.

Rafael didn’t mind though. He knew the only reason you’d come here was because of him, so he was more than happy to let you stay in your safety zone whilst he got the chance to show off around you — something you’d rolled your eyes at in the beginning but by the second or third day, had secretly grown to love. And he knew it. It’s why he kept going the rest of the day, gliding and zipping through the air like a damn expert and finding amusement in the way you’d dramatically roll your eyes each time he did. 

To tell the truth, you didn’t like skiing one bit. It was scary, and dangerous, and you, for some reason, kept imagining that the Abominable snowman from that one Scooby-Doo movie was going to rise from the ground and kidnap you. It made you shiver just thinking about it. About some giant snowman's hands picking you up and carrying you away. 

Terrifying, honestly. 

But really, the only true reason you kept shivering was merely because it was freezing. It was so utterly cold as the snow fell around you that your nose was always red, you couldn’t even feel your ears and most importantly your skin kept stinging even beneath your snowsuit. It was uncomfortable, to say the least, and all you ever wanted, from the moment you woke up, was for the day to be over so that you could finally get back to the cosiness of your cabin and slip into the blazing heat of the hot tub. 

It may have been outside as well, and it may have been rather chilly as you ran to it but once you slid into the bubbles, it was like ascending into heaven. Or hell, given that it was warm, but whatever. It was simply perfect, and even more so when Rafael’s arms wrapped tightly around you, allowing the two of you to do nothing but bask in the comforting heat of the bubbles as you relished in each and every touch he would grace you with. 

Only tonight, as you sunk happily into the cosy warmth of the water and felt the first sharp shiver of the goosebumps that riddled every inch of your skin at the sudden change in temperature, you got an idea. A far, far better idea of how to warm yourself up — Of how best to warm yourself up, and without the sole use of the jacuzzi’s bubbles… as by the time you’re done, they’re gonna be the very last thing present on your mind. 

“Mi cariño, what are you doing all the way over there?” Rafael asked, tilting his head curiously as he watched you settle yourself opposite him, which was unlike any other night before when you had practically placed yourself on his lap and sucked all the heat from beneath his skin.

“There’s better jets on this side,” You said plainly, biting down on your bottom lip as you spread your legs as wide as you could. 

He couldn’t see you clearly though, it was too dark. The bulb on the porch didn’t provide much actual, usable light but the two of you never really cared. You were always close enough for him to see, yet tonight he simply couldn’t see anything but the partially darkened shape of your figure sitting there quietly. He couldn’t see the small quirks of your mouth at the forceful brush of the jet against your sweet spot, the one that made you bite down hard on your lip in order to keep quiet. He couldn’t see the scheming glint that got lost in the lust that swallowed your eyes as you watched him, that one, small ray of light cascading over his face perfectly and allowing you to see the utter confusion that riddled his eyes.  

He hadn’t figured it out yet, that much you were certain of. He didn’t know what your agenda was. What you were planning. It was all completely unknown to him, and quite frankly it was completely unexpected too, given your job. You were a sex crimes detective. You were well aware of the consequences of public masturbation and public sex, and never once would Rafael have ever thought you would risk your career to simply try it. But if you were being honest, that innocence he thought you had… That shyness you gave off mixed with your secret rush for knowing what it would feel like to tick public sex off your bucket list only made you that much more hot under your metaphorical collar and you couldn’t stop yourself from expressing it.

You spread your legs further, allowing the brute force of the jet to hit so right… So toe curlingly perfect against your sensitive clit that you threw out your arms to grip behind you, splashing water over the edge of the hot tub as you leaned your head back, letting the sweetest, most breathy, most arousal inducing moan pass over your lips. 

Rafael was by your side in an instant, the water shifting so furiously around you that your body jerked back against the hard surface of the tub as settled himself down next to you. His eyes were wide from shock. From lust. From pure and utter deviance as he knew all too well what you were doing. He’d heard stories of women using water jets to get themselves off but he never so much as expected to hear you talk about doing it let alone actually see you. And in a public space such as this. 

“You’re taking a big risk, mi amor,” Rafael whispered, leaning in to brush his lips lightly over your neck as he delved his hand down into the water, running two fingers painfully slowly over the thin cover of your bikini and stopping the jet from reaching you. “Exposing yourself out here like this?” He shook his head and tutted. 

“It’ll be worth it,” You whispered, pushing his hand aside as you knew it would rile him up real good to see you get off on something other than his cock, his fingers or his mouth. And you were right, his eyes darkened the second you rocked your hips over the jet and as each sweet sounding whimper left your lips, his right eye would twitch in frustration. “Because God does this feel so, so good for me.” 

As the pleasure driven words left your lips and only added to Rafael’s ever growing desire for you, you reached behind your neck and undid your bikini top, allowing it to fall gracefully forwards and expose the soft mounds of your breasts. Rafael’s eyes fell to them instantly like a heat seeking missile, his pupils blown wide with hunger and his need for dominance as he watched you trail your fingertips slowly up the valley of them. 

You knew he always loved your breasts. Caressing them. Kissing them. Having them roll over his chest with every thrust of his cock inside you, anything he could do to simply feel them, he would, and you could tell by the way he clenched his teeth that it was driving him mad to see you be the one to touch them. To see you kneading them. To see you pinching and rolling those hardened buds between your fingers as you began to pant softly from the pure heat bubbling down around your pussy had him all but drooling with rage. 

“You better stop that,” He demanded, his tone ripped right out of the courtroom as though you were a simple perp he was trying to break. You did nothing but grin mischievously at him, a soft, throaty whimper leaving your parted lips that had him thrust one hand down through the surface of the water and go straight to his hardening cock, rubbing it through the thin lining of his shorts and thinking of all the things he could do to you tonight. “Mi amor… I’m warning you.” 

“You want me to stop?” You teased, mimicking his motions and happily going to touch yourself as even though the jet felt incredible, it wasn’t anywhere near what you needed tonight. You kept eye contact as you slid beneath your bottoms, the sloshing of the water slowly picking up around you as you drew faster and faster circles on your clit, making your own eyelids flutter in a way that drove Rafael crazy. “You're… Fuck… You’re gonna have to make me.” 

Lifting off his seat with such force that it sent a wave of water spilling over the edge of the hot tub, Rafael grabbed your body and lifted you effortlessly off your own, a rather surprised squeal leaving your lips at the sudden rush of anticipation that flew through your veins. He spun you around, falling back onto the very jet that you’d just been pleasuring yourself on as you straddled his strong thighs, his mouth already working its way along the length of your neck, leaving hot, fiery kisses the whole way down as he headed for the delicious sight of your inviting breasts. 

As his lips trailed down between the valley he shifted right, his tongue instantly swirling hot around your nipple as he got to work unravelling you. You gripped the back of his hair immediately, holding him closer to your chest as you tightened your legs around him, rolling your hips over his rock hard erection in a way that had him moan against your breast and take your nipple firmly between his teeth. 

The sound that left your lips as he tugged at it was indescribable, and he couldn’t take it anymore. He pulled back, taking your lips in his as the desperate urge to feel every single part of you he could at once washed over him. You hummed softly into his mouth as he began to gently caress your waist, grazing his soft palms so slowly across every inch of your skin before dipping his fingertips deep into the flesh of your hips as he tugged you forward, one hand slipping down as you moved and quickly making its way beneath your bikini. He spread you open in an instant, your soft gasps escaping into his mouth as he ghosted his fingertips across the throbbing bud of your clit, feeling as you ground down against him for some much needed stimulation.  

It was only then, when you whimpered out of dire need to have him inside you, did he plung himself right up and into you, his two thick fingers sliding so easily and so swiftly into your soaking pussy that you had to draw back. A long babble of swear words left your lips the second you did and he lingered inside you, his thumb teasing your aching clit before he curled his fingers ever so slightly and slowly began to pump them into you. 

Even submerged in the water he could feel how wet you were. The slight thickness to your arousal as it coated his fingers and spilled out over his knuckles each time he thrust hard into you was unmissable and every drop of it that landed on him made him twitch beneath his shorts. God, he simply couldn’t wait to feel it around his cock and so he picked up the pace, your breathy pants like music to his ears as he pressed his thumb even hard atop your clit, moving in such slow, teasing circles compared to his thrusts that he could already feel you clenching tightly around him. 

“Fuck… You’re even better than the jets,” You whimpered subconsciously, the mere sound of you alone, mixed with how truly senseless he was fucking you, making Rafael shudder fiercely as he leaned in to kiss you, wanting to taste the rest of the moans he was about to pull from you. Your hands slid up the length of his arms, clinging to his shoulders for much needed support as you moved your hips along with him, feeling as that pressure deep inside you quickly began to build at the new sensation of the ride.

“You think you can take a third, mijo?” Rafael whispered against your lips, yet he didn’t even wait for your desperation fuelled head nod before he slipped it snugly into you, having you cry out in sheer pleasure at the sudden way you stretched wider around him. 

You dropped your head forwards, pressing your face into the crook of his neck as he quickened his pace. You’d truly never felt anything like this before in your life, the way his fingers slid so quickly and so easily into you was sending you to further reaches that you’d ever felt before, and you knew it wouldn’t be long until toppled over.

And you were right, as after one last thrust of his fingers that he paired expertly with a perfectly pressured rub of your clit, he sent you hurtling over the edge into a pure and utter mind boggling pit of pleasure. 

Your hips stilled as you practically burst on top of him, your deep, breathy moans unfortunately muffled against the crook of his neck as he carried you through it, causing him to tilt it slightly in order to hear you. And once he did, his own eyes rolled back into his head as he continued to circle your throbbing clit, prolonging your orgasm as much as humanly possible so as to squeeze every ounce of pleasure out of you as he could.

As you slowly began to come down, your chest heaving rapidly against his own, Rafael finally stopped, having brought you to the very brink of overstimulation with only one perfect orgasm. He pulled his fingers from inside you, giving your clit one last gentle rub before his hand left the water, where unfortunately for him you already were washed off by the time he could get his fingers to his mouth. 

“Are you warm enough yet, mijo?” Rafael asked, a slight smirk tugging on his lips as he watched you lift your head like it weighed a ton, which to you, it might as well have as your whole body felt twice as heavy as normal with the weight of pleasure that had just come crashing down atop you.

That didn’t mean you weren’t willing to play along with his cruel game, though, and so you smiled, leaning forward to press a sloppy, lopsided kiss to his lips before directing them towards his ear. 

“I’m freezing,” You whispered, feeling the way his hips jerked beneath you at the mere notion that he hadn’t warmed you up enough. You pulled back a touch, just to see every twitch of his lips as he slowly began to press his fingers, almost possessively, into your thighs again. “I think you might need to try again to help warm me up.” 

“Well in that case,” Rafael replied, a soft groan leaving his lips when you ground down against him. “I think we better take this inside. Because mijo, the things I’m about to do to you…” He sucked in a breath, drawing his tongue up the length of your neck and towards your ear in a way that had you quivering already. “There’s no doubt in my mind that they’ll land us both on the registry… for the very rest of our days.”

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📖 "Medically Necessitated" Ch 10

Rated: Explicit Pairing: Bucky x Steve Tags: a/b/o, age gap, past rape, rape recovery, trauma recovery, pregnancy, medical trauma, hurt/comfort, mentions of CSA, religious fundamentalism, first time, gender dysphoria, male omegas having all the bits (peen & vagine) Summary: After a medical emergency brings him into the ER, Bucky escapes the religious cult he's been raised in. It's up to Steve, nurse practitioner and omega sex & repro specialist, to see him through a medically supervised heat.

Wait! I haven't read an earlier chapter! Story masterlist

10. Bea

Bucky and Steve negotiate what kind of relationship they're going to have.

Over the course of the following week, Bucky makes good use of the purchases from Twig ‘n’ Tuft. He arranges his new things in an obviously good mood, humming happily as he works. A few things get set aside for later use in the closet, but most of his efforts go towards Steve’s bed, changing out the sheets (they’re silkier now) and blankets (puffier), fluffing the pillows (there are a lot more now), and arranging everything just how he likes.

He’s nesting.

Steve stands in the doorway and watches for a bit, heart bursting with emotions that he knows are directly related to the bond. No way could he feel this utterly content and pleased just from watching a simple act of nesting, otherwise. His omega is feeling safe and comfortable in his home. Steve is providing for him and taking care of him, and it’s making Bucky happy. That’s all Steve wants.

“Need any help?” he asks, not surprised when Bucky says no. Omegas like to nest on their own. Steve is sure he’d mess up whatever Bucky’s nonsensical system is and wind up getting his head bitten off. “Okay then,” he says. “I’m gonna get ready for bed, so …” He grabs some pajamas from the dresser and heads in the direction of the bathroom, intending to brush his teeth and change. “You’re sure you want me in here?” he double checks. “I’m more than happy to take the couch again.”

Bucky rolls his eyes at him. “No Steve. That was pathetic. Six-foot man on a five-foot couch. Stop asking or you’re gonna give me a complex. I want you in here with me.”

Steve smiles gently. “Okay, Buck. Okay.” He goes into the bathroom and shuts the door behind himself. When he comes back out and climbs into the now-nested bed, he has a moment of indecision, unsure how close he should be, if Bucky wants his space, or if maybe Steve should try to touch—

Bucky scoots back to spoon directly against him, his back to Steve’s chest and a large pillow hugged in front of himself. “Mmm.”

Cautiously, Steve lets his arm drape over Bucky’s waist. “This okay?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Bucky sighs. He wiggles in place a little, settling. “Steve?”

“Mm?”

“... Thanks.” Bucky’s hand finds Steve’s where it rests just over his waist and gives a small squeeze. “For helping me. For everything. I’m glad I’m here with you.”

Steve’s heart melts into something useless and gooey, and he lets go of whatever awkwardness he’d still been holding onto. He pulls Bucky more securely against him and nuzzles into the back of his hair. “You’re welcome, Honey. I want you here. It’s gonna be okay.”

Bucky hums and cuddles further back against him. Later, once he’s dozed off, he purrs.

The next morning, Steve is still half-asleep when he’s suffused by the scent of happy, pregnant omega. He hums, vaguely aware that he’s surrounded by soft, good things. With his eyes still closed, he pulls the softness closer, smiling and nosing into that inherently pleasant scent. He feels so good, turned on and warm and safe. Mate, he thinks dreamily, rolling his hips once, and then again because it feels so pleasurable. Soft and good omega, mmm …

“Steve?” Bucky’s sleep-slurred voice. “Mm, whuddryadoin’?”

Steve wakes and his eyes fly open. He freezes in place, mortified as he realizes that he’s been rubbing his morning erection against Bucky’s boxer-clad ass for God only knows how long. “Oh, shit.” He hears Bucky’s low chuckle, but is still horrified at himself. “Sorry!” he hurries, removing his hands. “Sorry, sorry.”

He’s pulling away, but Bucky turns over in the bed and follows after him. He looks barely awake himself, his hair a mess and his eyes opened to puffy slits. He burrows in against Steve’s chest, rubbing his face on his tee shirt. “S’okay,” he mumbles. “You smell good.” He’s silent after that, and a minute later, his quiet snoring lets Steve know that he’s fallen back to sleep.

Steve untenses and allows himself to hold Bucky again—at first hesitantly, and then with more confidence. He lets his head fall back onto the pillow, his nose near Bucky’s hair. He closes his eyes and falls asleep.

The next time he wakes, it’s to Bucky kissing him on the mouth. Steve inhales and pulls back. “Buck, what’re you doing?”

Bucky blinks. “Kissing you.”

Well yeah, Steve wants to say. He feels bad for his lack of reaction when he sees Bucky’s expression begin to shutter.

“Am I not allowed to?” he asks. “Do you … do you not want that with me?”

Steve exhales. “No, Buck. It’s not that. I just don’t want you to feel like—”

“Like I have to,” Bucky says. “I know.” He moves closer, until their chests are touching. “I know you don’t want me to feel forced or … or coerced or whatever. But I don’t.” Carefully, watching Steve’s reactions, he leans in to kiss him again. When their lips meet, Steve’s stomach flutters with nerves. Bucky kisses him gently, and it’s so sweet and tender that it almost aches. Steve forces himself not to wrap his arms around Bucky’s waist again, not to press his leg in between Bucky’s legs and turn into him, push him down into the sheets like he wants to.

But he does kiss back.

They talk about it over breakfast. Steve is in the kitchen making eggs and sausage, and Bucky’s curled up in a corner of the couch with one of his nesting blankets. The tv is set to low volume on a local morning news program. Bucky’s the one who initiates the conversation.

“So, I’m your registered omega now.”

Steve tenses where he’s standing by the stove. “Oh. Yeah. Um …sorry.”

Bucky makes a face. “I’m the one who signed off on it. Why should you be sorry?”

“I dunno,” Steve mumbles. He looks down and focuses on shuffling the sausages around with the spatula he’s holding. Really, there’s a whole lot he’s sorry about. Bucky was a trauma survivor in need of help, and in very short order he’s been impregnated, bonded, and legally bound to an alpha he barely knows. Steve doesn’t know how to explain to Bucky what an injustice that is. “This all just happened so fast,” he says. “I don’t want you to feel like you don’t have choices.”

The tv clicks off, and the next thing Steve knows, Bucky is standing on the other side of the kitchen island, giving him a stern look. “Steve, stop.”

“Stop?” He glances down at the sausages. Stop…cooking?

“Stop feeling guilty about this," Bucky says, crossing his arms and leveling Steve with a look. “It makes me sad and I don’t like it.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” He nods. “Look, I’ve been given choices out the wazoo, lately. Everybody back at the hospital made it perfectly clear to me that I didn’t have to go with you. But that’s what I wanted. I like you and I trust you, and you’re the father of my baby.”

Steve’s heart stutters in his chest at hearing it said aloud like that. Holy shit, he really is going to be a father, isn’t he? Holy shit, how the hell is he going to do that? He clears his throat and opens his mouth to say something, but Bucky says,

“And we’re bonded, aren’t we?”

“Yeah.” Steve remembers the eggs and hurries to give them a swirl in their pan. “Ah, yeah. We are.”

Bucky nods decisively. “So, I want to be in a relationship with you. A real one, including sex.”

Steve stops, spatula held midair in surprise. “You … what?”

“You, me, living here,” Bucky gestures around the apartment. “I know you’re not going to make me be physical with you, but I want to be.”

Steve’s heart is beating fast inside his chest now. He licks his lips. “Buck, you … you’re a minor. You're eighteen.” That seems like the most obvious problem to him, but Bucky just rolls his eyes.

“Almost nineteen. My birthday’s soon.”

Steve doesn’t know how to break it to him that this doesn’t exactly erase the massive age difference between them. “I’m thirty-one, Honey.” He struggles for what to say next, and of course Bucky mistakes his awkwardness for rejection.

He visibly draws back into himself. “If you don’t like me like that,” he hedges, “or if you aren’t really attracted to me, I wish you’d just say so. I can handle it, but I just need to know what we—”

“No, no. I do. I like you, Buck.” Steve hurriedly covers the pans with their respective lids and flicks both burners off, stepping around the island to pull Bucky into his arms. “And you’re beautiful, Honey. You’ve got to know that.” He hugs him, and Bucky all but melts against him, resting his cheek on Steve’s shoulder. The closeness instantly feels right. Steve can feel the omega relaxing at his words, his scent lightening back to something pleasant. He sighs. All his overthinking things has just left Bucky feeling unwanted, and that couldn’t be further from the truth. “I guess you can tell that I have some hang-ups,” he mutters.

Bucky scoffs. “Yeah. You worry too much.”

Yeah, he does. But Steve shrugs. He can’t help the second guessing and caution that comes so naturally to him at this point. He’s been trained ad-nauseam to be a victim’s advocate, to never take advantage. “I just want to make you happy,” he admits, giving Bucky a gentle squeeze. “I guess I need to start trusting you to be able to tell me how to do that.”

Bucky hums happily. “Yeah. Good.” He pulls back just enough to meet Steve’s eyes, and he smiles. Then, pointedly, he leans in and kisses him. It’s only a brief kiss, more a brush of lips than anything else, but it makes Steve’s skin tingle with pleasure. Bucky pulls back check, “So now I can kiss you any time I want, right?”

Steve forces a smile. “Yeah Buck. You can kiss me.”

Bucky kisses him once more, then lets him go. “And do other stuff,” he says happily, just as Steve is reaching up to grab plates out of the cabinet.

He freezes. “Oh. Um ...”

“Oh come on, Steve. You’ve fucked me six ways to Sunday already!”

Steve busts out in a surprised laugh, but he can feel his face heating at the intense visual memory that hits him: Bucky, in the heat suite, naked and moaning and coming undone. Steve shakes his head and grabs the spatula back up. “Jesus Buck. Come on over here and get your food.”

Bucky obeys with a smirk, and they heap their plates high with scrambled eggs and sausage links and sit at opposite ends of the couch. Their feet tangle in the middle as they eat. Bucky chews thoughtfully for a while and then says, out of the blue and with determination, “I should learn to cook.”

Steve grimaces down at his plate. “That bad, huh?”

“What? Oh, no!” Bucky laughs and eats more sausage. “No, this is great. I was just thinking how I could make you breakfast. Pancakes and stuff. Omelets. I mean, since you probably don’t have time to do it yourself when you have to get to work in the mornings. Right?"

Steve blinks, taken aback. “Wow that’s … that’s really sweet, Buck.” Bucky smiles and looks back down at his plate, and Steve says, “I still have the next few days off from work. We could try to get your school situation figured out, if you want?”

Bucky looks wary of this idea. “I dunno, Steve. I was always homeschooled. I don't …” He shifts uncomfortably. “I don’t know if I’m very smart.”

Steve tuts in disapproval. “Of course you’re smart. Just because you might not know certain facts doesn’t make you unintelligent. Remember what I told you?”

“Yeah I know. Bees pollinate flowers,” Bucky mumbles, his discomfort obvious. He’s still embarrassed about his past.

"Hey," Steve offers gently. He nudges Bucky’s socked foot with his own. “That’s what we’re gonna do. We’ll spend the last few days of my leave figuring out a schedule for you, okay? I’ll help you.” The past few days have gone quickly, eaten up by tv marathons, snuggle sessions, and walks around the neighborhood to familiarize Bucky with the immediate area where Steve lives. “We can map out where your sister’s new place is, where you’re going to go for therapy. I’ll even investigate how you might go about taking the GED, if you want. They have study materials. Shouldn’t be hard to figure out.” He keeps nudging Bucky’s foot with his until he gets a little smile from the kid. “You’ll get a transit pass for the train and the bus. You can be totally independent, scoot all over the city if you want.”

Bucky hums and tucks back into his food, but Steve can tell that he’s pleased by the prospect.

Steve still has the next few days off from work, the tail-end of what is officially titled as his “Registered New Mate Leave.”

Steve is forced to explain to—an understandably confused—Bucky, that even though “mates” really is just a social construct and not a true physical thing, the government in New York still uses the term in some of its policies and legislation. “I know it’s contradictory,” he apologizes, when Bucky first perks up at hearing him say the words ‘mate leave’. “It’s stupid, I know. But the important thing is that I have time off where I can help you get settled, yeah?”

Bucky agrees with a tiny nod (and later, a quietly-murmured: “It’s not stupid. I don’t mind being your mate,” which makes Steve fluster but which Bucky also says quietly enough and standing far away enough that Steve can pretend he didn’t hear him say it).

He buys Bucky a transit card and helps him learn how to use the app for the city bus system and the train on his phone, then they decide to take a practice trip together, riding the orange and then the purple line out to the address in Queens where Rebecca's new apartment complex is.

Steve sits next to Bucky on the train and watches as he spends the ride downloading various apps for things like GrubHub and Candy Crush onto his phone. It’s a little hard for Steve to remember that Bucky grew up in a restrictive and backwards cult, when he’s sitting there witnessing the kid take to the modern world like a fish takes to water.

Rebecca’s apartment is all the way out in Flushing. Steve makes a reference to The Nanny, which Bucky of course doesn’t get, because he didn’t grow up watching 90’s cable TV. So Steve promises to add it to their already massive streaming watchlist.

Rebecca has them stay for lunch, and Steve feels kind of bad when they leave her in her lonely apartment with stark walls and hardly any furniture or possessions. She’s still adjusting to the outside world, the same as Bucky is, and Steve is once again very, very glad that he’s been able to bring Bucky straight into a lived-in home with lots of warm things and Steve himself to help. He’d hate to think of Bucky struggling all on his own.

“We should have her over for dinner sometime,” he offers, when he and Bucky are back in Brooklyn and walking towards the OmCare social services building where Bucky’s scheduled for his afternoon intake and assessment. “Your sister, that is.”

“Ooh, yeah. We could do that?” Bucky looks hopeful. “I could make something.”

“Sure, why not?” They walk inside the building and Steve accompanies Bucky up to the check-in desk. He gives him a little side hug, which Bucky turns into a full-on hug, and then leans up and kisses him. It’s just a quick peck, but it makes Steve flush halfway down his neck.

Bucky smiles when he notices and holds Steve’s hand while they wait in line behind one other person. “You’re nice,” he mumbles.

“It’s your apartment, too. You’re allowed to have guests and go in and out and cook whenever you want. And I’m glad you’ve got your sister, and that she’s got you.” Steve squeezes his hand. “You’ve both overcome something huge. It’s not easy. I’m proud of you.”

Bucky beams and looks like he’ll say something else, but before he can, the receptionist calls him forward and he signs himself in. They take their seats in the waiting room, and before long Bucky is called back by a kind looking beta counselor, who introduces herself as Beatrice—"just Bea is fine"—Collins, and informs Steve that if he plans to stick around for the entire appointment, he’s got quite the wait ahead of him. Steve says he doesn’t mind. His phone has a full charge.

When Bucky comes out of the appointment—three hours later —Steve’s butt is numb from the waiting room chairs, and Bucky’s holding a folder stuffed full of papers. Steve can immediately tell that he’s in a very good mood. He looks ten times brighter than when he'd gone in. “How’d it go?” Steve asks.

“Great!"

"Yeah?"

"Uh huh. My counselor's nice.” Bucky recounts all of the different assessments that Bea had him complete during their session together. “I think she was expecting me to be super screwed up or something,” he jokes. “I don’t know what the heck the hospital told her.”

That you’re a gang rape trauma victim with culture shock and gender dysphoria, Steve thinks, but doesn’t say. He’s been relieved and surprised so far, at how well Bucky’s taken to accepting himself and his body, this bond and the news of an unplanned pregnancy. Steve doesn’t know how that’ll change as the pregnancy progresses, but he’s hopeful that him being there and being accepting of Bucky can help make a positive difference. “Did you get a schedule for therapy?” he asks, when they’re on the bus ride home.

“Mondays and Wednesdays at four,” Bucky says. “There’s a queer youth group that meets after. Bea said she thinks I’ll like it. I told her I’d give it a try.”

Steve blinks in surprise. “Oh. Okay. So ... do you feel like you’re, um, queer?”

Bucky smirks and shakes his head. “No. But I dunno, I might make friends there.”

“Oh yeah. Right, of course.”

His hand migrates to his stomach and he looks down at it. “I still feel really weird about it all. Being pregnant.”

Steve’s heart sinks and he fights not to let it show on his face. “Do you feel like you’re changing your mind? About keeping it?”

Bucky shakes his head but he won’t meet Steve’s eyes. “No, it’s not that. I don’t mean the baby. It’s more about how I’m, like …” He chews his lip as he thinks about it. “How I'm being like this so openly.”

“‘Like this’?”

He nods. “I know people can smell it. And eventually I’ll get big and people’ll see.”

“Yeah.” Steve’s hand creeps over the seat between them, cautious. He personally can’t wait to see Bucky get bigger, but of course he’d never say that. “Is ... that a bad thing?” he asks cautiously.

“No. Not bad. It just makes it so obvious about how I’m, um, you know.” Bucky hesitates for so long that Steve half expects him to throw out an obscene word. “How I'm … omega." He plucks at the front of his sweater, which they bought in the men’s omega clothing section at Target just the other day.

It isn’t much different in style from a typical men’s A/B sweater. Perhaps a bit tighter in the fit—slightly different seams, a more graceful neckline that’s indicative of the gender it’s meant for. Steve thinks it looks good on him, but now he starts to get self conscious and wonders if Bucky truly liked any of the clothes they bought for him the other day. Steve had tried to make it clear that Bucky could pick out anything he wanted. He doesn’t think he’d been the one to steer them in the direction of the men’s O department, rather than men's A/B, but he’ll be damned if he can convince himself of it now.

He opens his mouth to ask, but Bucky’s already speaking, “It wasn’t like that back home. Guys like me were … Well, people knew, of course, but we didn’t talk about it. You hid it, you didn’t go around openly acting all—” he cuts himself off and shakes his head. “Anyways, it’s just weird to be out in public, knowing everybody can tell. Seeing people act like it’s normal.”

Steve frowns and takes his hand. “It is normal, Buck.”

“I know. I know that. It’s just gonna take some getting used to." Bucky twists his lips and grumbles, "Bea says I’ve got ‘dysphoria’.”

“You do,” Steve says solemnly, thinking about how the kid had refused to even consider the men’s O style underwear at Target. They’d purchased a pack of A/B style briefs instead, which Steve had been happy to do for him. “It’s gonna take time,” he agrees kindly. “And that’s okay. It'll get easier, you'll become more comfortable about a lot of stuff. And for the things that don't feel right, well you know you can express your gender any way you want, right? You don't have to force yourself into some box. Not anymore." He gives Bucky's hand a comforting squeeze. "I think the queer group’s a great idea, Buck. You should go.”

Bucky’s scent gradually lightens, and he leans in against Steve’s side, allowing him to wrap an arm around his shoulders and hold him close for the remainder of the bus ride home.

“—and said she thinks I’ll do just fine on the GED,” Bucky tells Steve brightly the next night, when they’re fixing their dinners. “I can study for it online, and take it any time I want. She had this whole indicator test that said my scores were pretty good. Better than what she’s seen from uneducated people in the past.”

“You not uneducated, Buck,” Steve chides. “You were homeschooled.”

“Better than nothing,” Bucky mutters, but says nothing else, and they leave it at that.

They compromise and make little side salads to eat with the frozen dinners that Bucky picked out (the kid has atrocious taste in foods, and Steve has already purchased and paid for overnight shipping on the best prenatal vitamins that money can buy). They settle in to watch a few more episodes of The Nanny, which Bucky has decided that he loves. After that, he picks out a movie to watch, and they sit snuggled on the couch together, some of the new nesting blankets tucked around both of their shoulders.

It becomes apparent that Bucky has taken their previous discussion about physicality to heart. He’s very bold with how close he wants to be with Steve, sitting right up against him as soon as the movie starts and leaning more and more of his weight on him as time goes on. He purrs happily when Steve finally wraps an arm around his shoulders, gives him an affectionate tug against his body, and holds him close. They spend the rest of the movie that way.

By the time the credits roll, Bucky’s hand has been steadily creeping higher up Steve’s thigh for the better part of twenty minutes. They’ve snuggled the entire movie, but Bucky started touching with intent somewhere around the three-quarter mark, and Steve’s done nothing to stop him. He grunts softly when Bucky finally reaches the top of his thigh, and again when he boldly moves his hand and cups the front of his jeans. Steve’s been perked up for a while, and it feels good to finally be touched. “Buck,” he says softly.

Bucky turns into him, putting their faces close together. “Kiss me?” he murmurs, those two quiet words making his lips move in the barest, most enticing way. They look so soft.

Steve’s belly flutters with nerves in a way that it hasn’t done in a long time. Bucky’s so young and sweet, so innocent, and that really gets to Steve more than he wants to admit. He’s never had a virginity kink, but knowing that he’s the only one who’s ever made love to Bucky’s body, the only one who’s ever laid him down in soft spaces and shown him pleasure, God, it makes Steve weak to think about.

It makes him want so much, makes him want to show Bucky every single way there is in the world to feel good. Steve just wants to keep him and teach him and make him happy. And to feel all of that for someone he’s barely known is … It’s a lot. Steve knows they’re bonded, and that he should allow himself a little leeway, allow himself to indulge. Especially since Bucky’s all but in his lap now, having made his wishes crystal clear, lips hovering scant centimeters away from Steve’s own.

Steve closes the distance, pressing their mouths together in a gentle kiss. Bucky is soft, just as devastatingly sweet and soft as he looks, and Steve feels his blood run hotter at the sheer lust that courses through him. Fuck, he thinks despairingly. How is he ever going to control himself with this boy?

Bucky makes a tiny noise of pleasure as soon as they’re kissing, a sound that goes straight to Steve’s cock. He’s so eager, pressing closer, his hand between Steve’s legs molding to the shape of his erection and rubbing. Steve grunts and kisses him harder, and Bucky looses the sweetest little whimper. He abandons all pretense of restraint, turning fully into Steve, climbing into his lap and straddling him. His hands come up to cradle Steve’s face as they make out.

Steve groans at the first, hot swipe of Bucky’s tongue. He opens up to it and follows, his hands curling in hard at Bucky’s waist as they get more and more heated, more urgent. Bucky’s hips start grinding down in tight little circles, and when they break away from the kiss momentarily, Steve's slightly out of breath. “Buck,” he pants, and Bucky nods shakily in response.

“Yeah. Oh God, Steve. You feel so … I just wanna … nngh.”

Jesus, Steve thinks. It doesn’t even take a complete sentence from the boy to make heat pulse harder through his veins. He knows that part of it’s from the bond. Logically, he knows. He can feel Bucky’s arousal like an echo of his own, amplifying everything. His cock is throbbing against the seam of his jeans. Bucky’s been rocking needily against it as they kiss, and Steve can smell the omega’s arousal now, honey-sweet and tempting underneath the layers of his clothes. He’s getting wet.

It calls out to Steve’s instincts, makes him want to grab Bucky and tackle him to the floor, make him feel so good that he cries and comes apart for him within minutes. It’s not like it would be hard to do. Steve knows how an omega's body works, knows that he could have Bucky creaming on his fingers before the movie’s end credits are finished rolling. But he forces himself to hold back, because that’s not what he wants, not really. Not for Bucky’s first time in their home. Their home. Christ.

“Sweetheart,” he gasps, when Bucky switches to sucking on his neck and rubbing forwards instead of down, his clothed little cock grinding against Steve’s abs, giving off these needy little whines as he moves. Fuck, it’s sexy. And he’s got his mouth right over Steve’s glands, bringing blood to the surface of skin that’s still tender and sensitive from the recent bondmark. It’s healed by now, but the skin is still pink and thin, delicate from injury. It wouldn’t take much to get it to break all over again, and Steve feels saliva pool in his mouth as he imagines that the same must be true of Bucky’s mark. He grits his teeth and digs his fingers in hard at Bucky’s waist, trying to control himself. “Oh, Honey … okay wait. Wait wait wait.” He pulls back, panting, and after a moment Bucky does, too. His eyes open and flick over Steve’s face. He’s got such fantastic eyes. Irises that flare into a stormy cobalt, and then gray; his pupils blown huge with desire. Steve is fucking helpless under those eyes.

“Alpha,” Bucky breathes, saying it like it might as well be Steve’s name. “Can we? Please? I want it, I do. Please Steve, please take me back to our room.”

It’s such pretty begging. Steve’s hit hard in that instant by how utterly beautiful Bucky is. His dark lashes and plush lips, the wanting pinch between his brows, and the sweet, aroused, pregnant smell of him. Steve wonders how he ever thought he was going to be able to remain respectable, here. “Yeah?” he asks, pushing his hands under Bucky’s sweater to feel his skin. He digs his fingers into the soft give of his waist and feels him shudder. “You sure?”

Bucky grabs his face to kiss him forcefully, his hips jolting down again as he does. “Yes!” he laughs, kissing Steve hard, shoving his tongue inside his mouth with almost no skill. “Fuck, Steve. Come on. Pleease. You’re my Alpha, aren’t you?” He’s only asking lightheartedly, but Steve’s balls still clench and throb as if he’s been issued a challenge, and his growl still intensifies to something rich and possessive, rolling deep in his chest. Bucky makes a delighted sound at hearing it, and his scent spikes. He clings to Steve and tucks his face in his neck, humping him harder and moaning, “C’mon Alpha. Take me back there and hold me down. Make it feel better. Aren’t I your omega? Don’t you want to breed me up in our nest?”

“Fuck,” Steve says tightly. This kid’s too clever. He figures things out. “Bucky,” he growls.

“Yeah." Bucky drags his teeth over Steve’s bondmark and sucks, hard, on the glands. He releases with a 'pop' and a harshly whispered, “So make me feel good like you’re supposed to,” against the shell of Steve’s ear. And Steve breaks. He shoves up to standing with Bucky hoisted in his arms. The coffee table scrapes loudly across the floor when his shins hit it. Bucky squeaks at the sudden movement and grabs onto him, laughing delightedly. "Steve!"

Steve carries him back to the bedroom. He dumps him on the bed and Bucky scoots back and starts yanking off his clothes with haste. Steve stays standing and undresses, growling at him. “You’re a manipulative little shit, you know that?”

Bucky laughs. “If it gets me what I want," he preens, voice muffled by his tee shirt and sweater twisted halfway over his face.

Steve is naked first, and he helps Bucky by pulling off the briefs that he's trying to kick off his foot, tossing them away with a grin as he crawls over him on the bed. “And what is that, huh?” he asks, settling in the cradle of his hips, pleased when Bucky's legs part instinctively to make a place for him. Finally, their bodies finally pressed fully together, nothing between them anymore. It feels right. Bucky’s eyes are bright and joyful, his cheeks beautifully flushed as Steve settles on his forearms above him. Bucky whines and draws his knees up, humping against Steve's stomach, smearing his slick there. Steve traces the edge of one dark brow with his thumb. “Pretty boy. What do you want so bad, hm?”

“Thought that’d be obvious by now,” Bucky jokes, though some of the bravado has leached from his voice, replaced by a breathiness that betrays his nerves.

Steve glances down between them and sees Bucky’s cocklet, half hard and fattened up against his belly. And lower down, all that slick. It’s mind-bendingly hot, and Steve shoves a hand down between them, smearing through the mess and getting it all over his fingers. “So wet, Sweetheart,” he praises.

Bucky chokes out the prettiest little noise when Steve's fingers graze his soaked lips, and then wrap around his cocklet and start giving it light, coaxing strokes. “S-shit,” he whimpers, shoving up against Steve’s hand. “Ohn, sh-shit, Steve …”

“Mmhm.” Steve kisses him as he strokes, stopping frequently to pull back and watch the pleasure play out over his face. Bucky's little cock is almost fully hard in his hand. Steve looks down between their bodies to watch as he thumbs over the head again and again. He takes gentle hold of his foreskin and uses it to jerk him off right at the tip. The sight of it is enough to make him want to pop a knot. And lower down? Jesus wept, it’s pretty. Bucky’s slick is everywhere and his cunt is pink and swollen, the lips puffy and darkened from arousal. Jesus fucking Christ. Steve's overcome with the need to seal his mouth right over it.

He gets back on his knees, intending to do just that, pulling Bucky where he wants him in the sheets. He pushes Bucky’s knees apart and looks his fill. Bucky starts to whine and squirm at the close attention, but Steve hushes him and plays with his cock some more to distract him. “Shh, Honey. You’re so pretty down here.” He’s staring, can’t help but stare at the gorgeous spread of Bucky’s sex. He trails his fingers over it in the barest ghost of a touch, near reverent in how he plays with this delicate part of him. “Oh, Sweetheart. Look at you, so perfect.”

Bucky’s scent gets even more aroused, but with a growing hint of embarrassment to it that Steve doesn’t like. His nose wrinkles as he scents a twinge of humiliation, and realizes how bothered Bucky is. This isn’t going to be like at the hospital. Bucky no longer has the mental fog or the fevered drive of his heat to guide him through any of this.

Steve looks up and tries to convey what he feels for Bucky through his expression, through the bond that they share. He reaches out and cups his cheek. “What are you thinking, Sweet boy?” he asks sadly, knowingly. Because he can already see it: the self-deprecating thoughts that Bucky's having about his body, about what he’s been told all his life is wrong with it. Steve makes a miserable noise of contention, and Bucky’s lips quiver and his eyes slip closed. He’s shaking his head just the barest bit. Steve whines sadly. “Honey,”

“Nothing,” Bucky whispers, squirming unhappily and pressing his cheek into Steve’s palm. His sad little smile is heart wrenching. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

For the first time, Steve wishes that he’d gone in to speak privately with Bucky’s OmCare counselor the other day, so that he could’ve asked questions. Steve’s never been with someone with issues like Bucky has, at least not any longer than a few hectic days spent fucking in a heat suite. His job involves acute care, the during. He’s never been there to deal with the after. Bucky’s so beautiful laid out before him now, but Steve is keenly aware of how fragile he is, too. He doesn’t want to mess this up.

Slowly, he moves his hand from Bucky’s face and fits it around the front of his throat instead. He presses up and in under his jaw, and watches as Bucky’s eyes shoot open again. Steve levels him with a tender look. “Buck,” he tells him gently. “I want to lay down on my stomach, here.” He nods at the bed. “Right here, between your pretty legs.” Bucky swallows thickly beneath his palm, a hurt little pinch forming between his brows. One of his hands has come up to grip onto Steve’s wrist at his throat, but he isn’t pushing him away, and Steve keeps his hand there. “I think you’re so beautiful, Sweetheart. And I want to show you. I want to make you feel good.” Carefully, he leans down over him, so close that their lips brush together. But he keeps his eyes open, and so does Bucky, and he doesn’t kiss him. He stays like that, sharing breath with him and looking right into his eyes as he holds his neck with gentle dominance. … And with his other hand, he reaches down between his legs.

Bucky’s breath catches and trips at the first touch of Steve’s fingers, his face slipping between desire and shame and a whole host of other, vulnerable emotions. “S-steve,” he breathes.

“Mmhm.” He lets the pads of his fingers stroke softly along the lips of Bucky’s cunt, again and again, up and down, just barely touching. He’s soaked. “I want you to tell me,” Steve murmurs, and then he finally does kiss him—just once, just a tiny peck on the lips. Bucky tries to kiss back, but he denies him, maintaining that scant distance between their faces and waiting until Bucky opens his eyes again. Steve smiles. “Tell me, Bucky. Tell me to put my face down between your legs. Tell me to kiss you, to lick you.”

The whine Bucky makes is as bothered as the blush that stains his cheeks. He writhes underneath Steve, and Steve tightens his hand on his neck. He fits his thumb over his bonding glands and presses firmly. “I love every part of your body Buck, and I want you to see that. I want you to see what I see.” He gives him another kiss, and this time speaks directly against Bucky’s mouth. “Now give me permission to eat you out.”

“Fuck,” Bucky whimpers, but the shame in his scent has already peaked and is dissipating. It’s still there, but Steve can feel through the bond how his words have helped. Bucky squirms under him, a new gush of slick pooling around Steve’s fingers right after. “... E-eat me out, Steve.”

“Good boy. Oh, Bucky, Sweetheart,”

“Please … your mouth, your … please.”

Steve growls, more than satisfied. He mashes his mouth down hard on Bucky’s, kissing him fiercely to let him know he’s been so, so good for him. Then he shoves himself down the bed, dragging his cock against the sheets as he goes to get some relief. Bucky’s legs spread apart and Steve coaxes him with gentle murmurs to rest them over his shoulders. “There you go. Just like that, Beautiful.” He kisses the back of one calf as it moves and Bucky settles. He flicks his eyes up to Bucky, who’s staring down at him with parted lips and heavy-lidded eyes.

“Oh, Steve. Are you gonna?”

He moves instead of answering, shoulders pushing under Bucky’s thighs and arms wrapping around, tugging him closer. Bucky squeaks and Steve rumbles in satisfaction. “Goddamn,” he curses, rolling his hips down against the mattress some more. It’s barely a relief. “Baby,” he breathes, staring at Bucky’s pink folds, so wet and delicate, his little hole clenching on nothing. “Baby, you got no idea how good this pussy looks. Fuck.”

Bucky groans at the words, but he doesn’t get much chance to protest further because in the next second Steve is diving in. He seals his mouth over most of Bucky’s entire sex, just because he can, giving a big, indulgent suck and making absolutely filthy noises in the process. He laves the flat of his tongue, wide and firm and focused, up the pink cleft of his cunt, again and again, before setting in to a few moments of truly tongue fucking him—first with tiny little jabs that barely breach him and make him whine high and needy, then a series of longer, deeper pushes, going as far into Bucky’s body as he possibly can. Bucky downright wails after a moment of that, and Steve can hear the frustration in it, can hear how he wants more but doesn’t have the words to ask. That’s alright, though. Steve has given plenty of head in his life, and he knows what male omegas respond to best. He gets himself in gear and does what he knows will have Bucky coming in minutes.

“Jesus Chr-uh—” Bucky grunts, his hips shoving up hard against Steve’s face.

Steve hums around the cocklet in his mouth and tongues the underside, flicking over and over it like he would do to a woman’s clit. He’s got one hand holding Bucky’s hip down, and he uses the other to tease at the wet entrance of his slit, pressing with the tips of two fingers. It’s so tight that, for a long second, it doesn’t feel as if he’ll be able to get in. He hums his mouth on Buck’s cock and pushes harder … and slips in.

Bucky cries out sharply and both of his hands are suddenly in Steve’s hair, pulling him closer. His legs hook over his back, heels digging in. “Fuck, oh fuck, Steve yeah… yeahyeah … that … oh, ohplease, jus’likethat.”

Steve hums happily and curls his fingers, rubbing the right spots, letting his knuckles bump Bucky’s mound while he suckles with purpose at the head of his dick. He’s determined to get at least this first orgasm out of the way before he fucks him.

Bucky’s hands pull his head and his hips shove against Steve’s face as he arches and comes, the sweet, desperate sounds he makes as he reaches his climax music to Steve’s ears. His body contracts rhythmically as he releases, a hot gush of slick between his legs and Steve’s palm. Steve groans with his cocklet still held in his mouth. He pulls off, lifting his head to gaze up Bucky’s body but leaving his fingers buried inside his cunt. Bucky’s head is tossed back in the pillows, panting, his face lax from the trailing bliss of his orgasm.

Steve smiles and strokes his fingers inside a few more times, prolonging it for him as much as he can. When Bucky inhales hugely then sighs, his entire body going boneless, Steve pulls out. He dips down for one more, indulgent taste, then kisses his way back up Bucky’s stomach, up across his chest and neck. Bucky’s waiting for him with half-lidded eyes and a sated smile when he arrives to lie over top of him again. Steve hums, settling between his legs and kissing him lightly. He rocks his hips minutely, moving his cock through all that slick. “Feel good?” he asks, bending down to nose at his neck.

Bucky shivers in his arms and nods. “Mmm. Mmhm.”

Steve’s lips find Bucky’s bondmark and kiss it. “Good,” he murmurs. He flicks his tongue out against the delicate skin of the mark, imagining how good it would feel to bite him now, to sink his teeth in all over again, feel the skin break so tenderly and the blood welling out rich with pheromones, how much the sound of Bucky’s cries would turn him on. I want to claim you again, he thinks. I want you. His chest aches with how badly he wants to say those things, but he forces himself not to.

It’s not his place to scar Bucky up any worse than he already has, not when they aren’t mates. Bucky’s with him until the baby comes, maybe not long after. Steve has to let him have that choice, he can't be selfish and box him in, no matter how badly his instincts might make him want to. He rubs his lips over the bondmark instead, then just his nose, when the urge to bite won’t go away.

Beneath him, Bucky’s hips cant up further, receptive. His knees notch up higher about Steve’s waist. But after a moment of lazy writhing and making little seeking, wanting mewls, he freezes. “Oh. Um … Steve?”

“Mm?” Steve is rubbing his cock through the wet cleft of his sex, ready to be inside his omega, ready to feel that heaven again. He wedges a hand down to line himself up. “You ready, Honey?”

“Wait, no.” Steve pulls back, and Bucky winces in apology. “Ah, maybe I have to pee. Sorry.”

Steve laughs, relieved, and kisses him quickly. He rolls off of him and onto his back. “Don’t apologize. It happens.” He pats him on the hip affectionately and tells him to go. Bucky does, and Steve watches his naked backside as it disappears into the ensuite. He sighs heavily once he’s alone, scrubbing the heels of his hands over his eyes and resisting the urge to touch himself in Bucky’s absence. God, he’d really wanted to bite him again. That’s going to be a problem. He hears the toilet flush, then water running at the sink, then Bucky’s footsteps as he returns. Steve uncovers his face and smiles as Bucky climbs back on the bed. “Better?”

“Mmhm.”

Bucky's a typical omega, in that he responds very well to his orgasms. He’s loose and happy after his first, all the tension and insecurities from before gone for the moment. Steve knows his brain has just dumped a shit-ton of chemicals to tell him that he’s loved and safe and beautiful and cared for. He moves to pull him in close again, intending to get right back between his spread legs like he’d been before, but Bucky stops him with another hesitant,

“Wait.”

Steve pauses, and when Bucky pushes against his shoulder he takes the hint and returns to lying on his back, probably with a quizzical expression on his face. Bucky’s kneeling on the bedcovers beside him, looking shy but eager. Steve’s knot throbs at that look. “Buck?”

Bucky’s eyes rove over his body with interest plain on his face. At his sides, his hands make an aborted gesture towards Steve. “Um. I wanted to try …” He bites his lip, eyes trailing down to Steve’s erection where it lies wet and heavy against his belly, the shine of Bucky’s slick on it catching the room’s light. Bucky visibly trembles and reaches out with his hand again. This time, his fingers brush over the skin of Steve’s hip. He shifts in place on his knees. “Can I …”

“Yes,” Steve breathes, instantly harder just at the thought of Bucky touching him in that way—with his hands, his mouth, it doesn’t matter. Whatever it is that Bucky wants, Steve wants him to have it. The idea of his omega wanting him like this, wanting to explore his body, makes Steve hotter than anything he can imagine. “Anything you want,” he manages to croak out, forcing himself to remain still and let Bucky set the pace. “Go ahead.”

Bucky’s timid for another moment, leaning forward. His hands land lightly on Steve’s chest at first, then drag down, feeling his body. He takes a deep breath and seems to decide on something, his expression growing resolute. He straddles Steve’s thighs and leans forward to touch his chest again, taking more time to explore his pecs, ghost fingers over his nipples. It’s endearing how fascinated he still is. Steve supposes that they didn’t do much of this in the heat suite. Bucky had been too far into his cycle then, too needy and traumatized to even contemplate exploring Steve’s body when what he really needed was an alpha taking care of him. Now though, now he can explore. And the heat in his eyes as they rove Steve’s body shows that he very much wants to.

Steve swallows thickly and watches as his omega becomes familiar with him in this new way. His hands flow over Steve’s abs, fingertips tracing the lines of muscle, and then the hair that starts on his belly. He smooths his hands down over those flat planes, out to his hips, to the tops of his thighs and back up. But his eyes remain glued to Steve’s cock the entire time. It’s fully hard now, darkened in color from his arousal and the knot plumped at the base. Bucky’s eyes flick up once, just to check, and Steve gives him a shaky smile. “Go ahead, Sweetheart.”

Bucky touches his cock, wrapping his hand around the shaft like he’s afraid he’ll hurt Steve. “What should I do?” he whispers, fingers tightening the barest fraction and giving a cautious stroke. “I’ve never …”

Steve’s hips jerk up and he fights to keep himself still. “It’s okay,” he says. “You touch yourself, right? Just do that. It’s the same.”

Bucky’s eyes flick up, and Steve’s surprised to see humor there. Bucky twists his lips wryly. “It’s not the same,” he teases, looking back down pointedly at Steve’s humongous cock, and then his.

Steve chuckles. “Well, general idea.” He reaches down and puts his hand over Bucky’s hand where it’s holding his cock. Bucky inhales sharply and looks at him. Steve nods. “Anything you do is gonna feel so good for me, Buck,” he tells him honestly. “Go ahead. I just want to watch you have fun.” Bucky looks shocked at that for the barest of seconds, but then that look slips away, replaced by eagerness. He looks back down, licks his lips, and starts jerking Steve off in slow, exploring strokes. Steve groans and lets his head flop back into the pillow, closing his eyes after a moment. Bucky’s other hand appears at the top of his thigh. It slides inwards, squeezing the muscle, and Steve groans and spreads his legs a little for him, flexing his pelvis up. “Yeah,” he whispers. “Bucky.” Bucky’s touches grow bolder. He squeezes Steve’s cock harder and starts twisting his hand experimentally on the upstroke. His other hand migrates from Steve’s thigh to his balls, eliciting a grunt from Steve. “Oh,” he breathes, wanting Bucky to hear it in his voice, how good it is. “Honey, yeah. That’s just right.”

Bucky rolls his balls in his palm lightly, and when Steve tells him that he can tug on them a little, he obeys. “Touch my knot,” Steve whispers, when he can feel it swelling further. He moans unexpectedly loudly when Bucky’s hand closes around it though, and he’s opening his eyes and reaching down to grab Bucky’s wrists in alarm. “Nope, nope nope. No more of that,” he pants, wide-eyed.

Bucky laughs, looking proud. “Why not?”

Steve growls and tugs on Bucky's waist, making him fall down on top of him. “You know why not,” he rumbles, then kisses him firmly on the mouth.

It’s possessive, and Bucky moans into it, his hands curling over Steve’s shoulders and hips grinding down against his abs. They part from the kiss and Bucky sits up, his eyes sparkling. “I liked it though,” he says. He rocks down at a different angle, rubbing his cunt on Steve's belly and smearing his slick all over the place. He giggles when Steve groans and grabs his hips to stop him. “What if that’s what I wanted?” he asks. “What if I want to make you cum with my hands? Or my mouth?”

“Fuck.”

“I want to see it,” he says, eyes hot on Steve and his hips rocking lewdly against him. “One day. I wanna see it happen. In my hands. I want to hold it and see it get big.”

Steve really, really has to close his eyes for a second with that one. He bites the inside of his cheek hard enough to hurt. Because he simply cannot with Bucky and his virginal little attempts at dirty talk right now. “You better watch your mouth,” he warns, his voice sounding like he’s swallowed rocks. “Or you will see it.” Bucky’s grin is magnificent, but Steve raises an eyebrow and reminds him, “Alphas only cum once, Sweetheart. Up to you to decide where my knot is, when that happens.”

It’s adorable, how fast Bucky’s eyes widen at that, and then how he frowns and pouts about not getting to have his cake and eat it, too. Steve waits him out patiently, grateful to have a few seconds’ reprieve (and also fairly certain that he knows which way Bucky’s going to steer things).

“Fine,” Bucky eventually says, sighing dramatically as if he’s making the world’s most difficult choice. Steve grins and digs his fingers firmly into the fleshiness of his hips, preparing to flip them back over. But Bucky grunts in protest, and then he puts his hands on Steve's chest and shoves him back down to the bed with an adorable little omega growl. Steve feels his surge of confidence and playful dominance through the bond, and he grins up at him, understanding what he wants. “Yeah?”

Bucky pulls his bottom lip into his mouth and bites it, a little bit of self-consciousness slipping back in, even as he nods. “Uh huh. Can I?”

Steve groans. He sits up and yanks Bucky against him, one hand threaded into his hair just so he can kiss him, hard, one single time. He falls back down to the bed. “Of course you can,” he tells him, grabbing his hips again and kneading his fingers in. “Go on.”

His enthusiastic response seems to wipe away any remaining traces of Bucky’s doubt. The boy's scent is pure again, unpolluted by shame or uncertainty, and he licks his lips and focuses intently on kneeling up, reaching around behind himself for Steve’s cock, and lining it up with his entrance.

Steve helps him along, holding his dick steady at the base so that Bucky can focus on relaxing and taking him inside his body. “Hey,” he whispers, getting Bucky’s attention back on him. “Keep your eyes on me, okay?” Bucky flushes and exhales shakily at the command. He nods, eyes fixed on Steve’s face even as he lowers himself down and they touch. Steve’s cockhead presses, breaches Bucky’s body, and he sees Bucky’s lips part and his brow pinch.

"Oh."

“Just like that,” Steve soothes, petting his flank with one hand, guiding his hip down with the other. Bucky groans quietly as he sinks down and bottoms out, and Steve rewards him with a deep rumble of approval. “Thaat’s it, Honey. Oh, good boy.”

Bucky mewls and falls forward, bracing both hands on Steve’s chest. His eyes are clamped shut tightly and he starts moving, rocking forwards and back, hard and fast. But Steve only lets him have a moment of that frantic grinding before he’s shushing him and coaxing him to sit back, slow down, and open his eyes. “Yeah,” he says, stroking up to his waist and back down in praise. He tugs and pulls his hips, guiding him into the right motions. “Slow and easy. That’s right. Keep those pretty eyes open so Alpha can see, yeah?” Bucky nods, his pleasure-pained face and desperation for Steve's guidance just about the sweetest, most erotic thing Steve’s ever seen. He nods along encouragingly with Bucky. “Good boy. That's it. Look right at me while you make us feel so good.”

Bucky does, sitting back the way that Steve’s positioned him and learning to roll his hips in that slow, luxurious grind that feels absolutely exquisite. He’s able to keep at it that way for a long while, too, before his breathing eventually starts to pick up, getting heavier and faster, his face and chest gorgeously flushed. The wet sounds of all his slick are more intense, and Steve can tell from the scent of him, from the feeling of his cunt tightening and rippling around his dick, that he’s close to his second orgasm. Steve clenches his jaw and digs his heels into the sheets so he can fuck up against Bucky's grinding. He can feel his knot pulsing, about to swell. “Baby,” he grits out. “M’close.”

“Steve.”

“I’m gonna knot you,” he gasps. “Buck, oh, I’m gonna.”

It’s the first time he’s ever not asked it as a question, but he doesn’t have to worry about consent, because Bucky makes it immediately clear that Steve’s knot is exactly what he wants. “Fuck yeah,” he whines, face crumpling and both of his hands shooting forward to brace on Steve’s chest again. He grinds harder, faster, more desperately like he’d done in the beginning, and this time Steve lets him. He curses and wraps his arms around Bucky’s back when the boy collapses onto him. His knot pops, and Bucky wails and comes.

Steve shouts as he starts to come, too, his balls pulling up tight and his focus narrowing down to nothing but the point where their bodies are joined. God, it feels so good, so good, sofuckinggood. His hips rut mindlessly against their tie and he clutches onto Bucky, muffling his moans in the omega’s neck. He gasps and has to force his mouth away from Bucky’s bonding glands at the last second, when he realizes what he’s aiming for. He pants into the top of his shoulder instead as he comes. He loses track of space and time for that first, excruciating minute of his orgasm, and then flows back into himself for the heavenly three or four minutes of languorous pleasure that follow.

Meanwhile, Bucky pants and grinds himself out to at least one more climax, then collapses on Steve’s chest in sweaty exhaustion. "Oh. Oh, god."

Steve moans and wraps his arms fully around Bucky's waist, hugging their bodies tightly together while his balls keep emptying. "Hmmm," he sighs blissfully, eyes closed and nose buried in Bucky's hair. "'Mega."

Bucky whimpers a little and squirms on his knot, repeating his name in a tired, whispered slur, again and again, right against Steve’s left pec: “Steve, Ssteve … mmm, Ssteeve.”

Steve kisses the top of Bucky’s head and hums some more. He thinks he mumbles something in the general vicinity of, “Luv you,” before he drifts off to sleep, his cock still buried deep and his omega’s adoring, sated whispers still ringing in his ears.

Art: @hopelessartgeek

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[cryptidorchid]

I’ve seen a lot of people call out Scott’s lack of care for Jimmy’s life in Third Life. (Usually, this is part of their explanation for why they think flower husbands is toxic) And I think these points are interesting but kind of miss that the lack of care is reciprocated by Jimmy.

In Scott’s case, the moments I see pointed out the most are the two times Scott treated Jimmy dying like it was a spectator sport. Like when Jimmy got attacked by the enderman or Jimmy played the Tango’s lava minigame and Scott was like “I’m just here to see if Jimmy dies” and when he told Grian that “once our husbands die, we can be free.” 

I will play devil’s advocate for a moment here and say that in all of these moments, regardless of what Scott was saying about it, he took action to try to keep Jimmy alive. In the first two instances mentioned, he gave Jimmy advice to help him survive and in the last one with Grian, he suggested Jimmy should stay in the bunker so he could be safer. But I will admit that Scott acts very apathetic about Jimmy dying.

In Jimmy’s case, he’s less verbally apathetic but his actions seem strange for someone who should want Scott to stay alive. Like that time where Grian and Scar let their enderman free to attack Scott and Jimmy scolded Scott for killing the enderman because it upset Grian and Scar. And even when Scott was being attacked, Jimmy’s response was just yelling that he wasn’t the one who looked at the enderman and then watching as Scott gets attacked. And there was that time when they found the enchanting table outside of Renchanting and Jimmy (correctly) guessed that it might be a trap so he told Scott to mine it.  For the second one, Jimmy says it’s because he’s just died so he doesn’t want to die again which would be fair, except neither of them have any motivation to mine the enchanting table in the first place, so the reasonable response would be “it might be a trap so neither of us should mine it”

Which made it really weird when the Dogwarts confrontation happened and suddenly, they’re all protective over each other. Suddenly, they’re like “Jimmy, don’t go near the scary red name!” and “Scott, what if they sacrifice you on their altar?” 

What? Where did this come from? At least in Scott’s case, I can guess it was because Jimmy’s now a red name so if Jimmy dies, it’s permanent. I don’t know what was up with Jimmy in that moment.

And, as far as them continuing to be protective after that? On Scott’s end, he was pretty consistent and explicit about wanting to keep Jimmy safe after that (except for him being weirdly happy about the idea of being a widow, don’t know what was up with that). 

On Jimmy’s end, after this, as far as I can tell, he went back to using Scott’s green life as an excuse to ask Scott to take risks. He finds a cake unexpectedly in his house, thinks it might be a trap, and asks Scott to eat it and tell him if anything bad happens. When they're in a fight with Dogwarts, Jimmy tells Scott that he should "get in there" because he’s a green name. Honestly, I don’t think these are that bad because Jimmy was on red and Scott was on green, but it is a big difference from him burning the Dogwarts banner over just the possibility that they might try to kill Scott (and it implies that Jimmy sees Scott's life as disposable which while pragmatic, is not very kind). Anyway, my main point is that I can’t remember Jimmy ever really being worried about Scott’s life outside of the one moment with Dogwarts.

In conclusion, neither of them seemed to be super concerned about the other one dying (Scott said it. Jimmy acted like it) until Jimmy went to red. Which I think mostly had to do with the fact that they both knew the other had more lives to spare. They really lived their lives like “me and my husband who couldn't care less if I live or die.” My dysfunctional faves.

[mingot-studios]

Why do people think Nanami purposfully killed the kitten??

Like, did you see her reaction when it went over the waterfall?

That is NOT the reaction of someone who killed something on purpose.

She was very young in these scenes and clearly didn't grasp the gravity of what she was doing or what would happen after she did it until she saw the consequences too little too late!

SHe was an angry child who had not thought her plan through and clearly, she felt regret for what she did

She's crying and begging her brother to forgive her!

How does one come away from this episode and think she truly wanted to hurt that kitten?!

Noralities, I'm talking to you!

[bunnis-monsters]

NSFW

You met your incubus!husband late one night during a thunderstorm. Usually he wouldn't be out feeding in a time like this, but he was hungry... and once he caught a whiff of your scent, it was all over for him.

He entered through your window, ready to go into your dreams...

That's when he spotted you curled up on your bed, hands over your ears as you tried to stifle your terrified sobs.

His first reaction was... intrigue. Why was this human crying in the middle of the night? Why was she curled up with a stuffed animal, wasn't that a thing only children did when they were afraid?

The incubus felt something strange while observing your trembling form... but he pushed those feelings away. You were too panicked and scared to feed from, so he'd have to find a meal somewhere else...

But he paused when you looked up at him. Not because he was afraid he had been caught, no, he froze because of the look you gave him.

Your lip was trembling, hair messy and cheeks covered in tears. When you looked at him, he almost felt compelled to rush forward and pull you into his arms, to comfort you with soft kisses and gently rocking.

But why did he feel this way? Why was he beginning to walk towards your bed and reach out to place a hand on your hair to soothe your fear?

The way you instantly began to relax, leaning into his touch made him... feel something. Something other than lust.

"Thank you.."

His eyes lit up at the soft gratitude you showed him.

Had anyone ever thanked him before?

Before he could even think, his arms were wrapped around your body, pulling you in closer so he could shield you from the thunder and lightening. The loud sounds and bright flashes of light became blurry and muffled... and you finally found yourself able to sleep peacefully.

His visits became nightly after that. There was something about you that drew him in. He couldn't feed on anyone anymore, his heart wouldn't allow him.

You became friends quickly, though it was obvious to most that he was pining after you terribly. Every waking moment was spent thinking of you and the next night he'd be able to visit...

You noticed he was getting pale one late evening, his eyes a bit dull.

“Are you feeling okay, Lulu?”

His name was Lucian, something you learned after his second visit.

“Ahh… I’m alright. I just… haven’t fed in a while.”

Lucian settled down next to you, his tail gently caressing your thigh. It wasn’t on purpose, his tail was moving on its own due to how hungry he was. To anyone other demon it would be clear how much Lucian wanted to mate with you…

“Fed? You haven’t… um…”

Your cheeks felt warm against his shoulder. He sighed softly, nuzzling against your hair. No other person he had bedded with had a scent like yours. It was intoxicating…

“I haven’t had sex since we met.”

This made you feel kind of… flattered. The way he gently reached for your hand and held it, the soft smile he had when looking at you…

Oh.

“Is it… because of me?”

His cheeks flushed a light pink, and she looked away. “… perhaps.”

His tail swayed before beginning to move up the skirt of your nightgown. He immediately looked embarrassed, trying to pull it away.

“I’m sorry, it’s just… it moves on its own when I’m…”

You shook your head, opening your legs a little to give his tail access.

“Don’t be sorry. You’re hungry, aren’t you? Well…”

You smiled shyly, squeezing his hand back. “I… wouldn’t mind providing you with a meal.”

He was gentle, his tail slipping under your panty line to play with your clit as the two of you shared your first kiss.

Lucian tasted like strawberries and honey, you couldn’t get enough. When he reached a clawed hand to hold onto your soft cheek, you instantly leaned into his touch.

He had never kissed someone like this before. Usually they were quick, heated with tongue and gnashing teeth…

But you slowly licked his bottom lip, and he felt his cock twitch in his pants as he explored your mouth. It was so sensual and tender that he could almost cry.

‘I… think I love her…’

With that revelation, his slit pupils expanded and he pinned you down, his tail rubbing your own slick against your pretty hole before plunging in.

“L-Lucian!”

You whines out in a mix of pleasure and discomfort, getting used to the feeling of his tail fucking in and it of your as his lips moved to your neck. His tail pumped aphrodisiacs into your body, making your head get fuzzy and your pussy throb with need.

It wasn’t long before he couldn’t take it anymore. Your cum was intoxicating, he was starving!

Lucian sank his cock into your, watching as you writhed and bucked your hips, your pussy gushing and clenching around him.

The two of you were a heated mess of needy kisses and cum, both unable to pull away. He had already had his fill, but continued to fuck into your fat cunt, watching as his cum spurted out of you with each thrust.

By the end of the night the two of you were clinging to each other, exhausted but happy. He had never been so worn out in his life… or as satisfied. As Lucian gazed down at your sleepy face, he knew then that you would be his wife soon enough.

He kissed your head and fell asleep too, leaving his life of being an incubus that slept with whoever he could behind.

Lucian would be your devoted husband now, until you died, and even beyond that. A demon’s love could last lifetimes…

———————

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[starstruckmiraclekitty]

“I’ve never cum before.”

Your shy admission from earlier that day swirled about in Simon’s mind, and the more he thought about it the more he just couldn’t believe it was the truth.

So he made it his sole mission that night, to make the woman he’d had feelings for years for cum, just for him.

He wasted no time in taking you to his quarters, slowly and gently ridding you of your clothes. When he finally set eyes on your naked frame, he was truly convinced you’d ruined him for anyone else. He’d be yours until his dying breath.

He’d make you cum for him, if it was the last fucking thing he did on this earth.

You were a sweaty, writhing mess beneath him and Simon couldn’t get enough of it. The taste of you, your scent, the softness of your skin and the fucking way you sounded had Simon’s brain in a daze.

“Oh, oh my god.” You cried out, your fingers digging harshly into your lieutenants scalp. The pleasure he was giving you was unlike anything you’d ever experienced before. A burning heat began to fill your insides, as a tingling feeling spread across your abdomen.

You felt yourself clench at the sensation, your thighs tightening around Simon’s head causing him to moan against your soaked core. His eyes lifted to you as he licked a firm strip through your folds, groaning at the taste.

“Simon!” You cried out, your fingers tightening their hold on his hair. “Please, please!”

He gave a hearty chuckle in reply, his fingers and tongue increasing their pace as wet, lewd sounds from his mouth and your pussy filled the air. It was sinful just how fucking good at this he was.

Simon watched as your eyes rolled into the back of your head, your pretty lips parting as you let out a strangled cry of pleasure. The sight was euphoric, and had Simons cock aching.

He needed to be inside that pretty little pussy of yours, but he was a patient man. He wouldn’t give you his cock, not until he made you cum on his tongue first.

He pulled his face away for only a moment, throwing you a small smile as his fingers continued their assault on your core. “You gonna cum, pretty girl? I can feel you clench around my fingers, I know you’re close. Just let go, be a good girl and cum for me.”

You whimpered in reply, the tight feeling in your abdomen only growing at your lieutenants words. You’d never felt this before, never felt so weightless. You allowed yourself to focus on the sensations of Simon’s tongue, as it dragged through your soaked folds, and his fingers, pumping and curling against your walls. “I-I can’t.”

“You can, good girl. Just let go, I’ve got you.” Simon groaned into your heat, his hands squeezing reassuringly at your plush thighs. “Cum, now.”

It was as if an invisible cord snapped in your belly, as a feeling of complete and utter weightlessness filled your body, a pleasant buzz tingling inside your blood. It was unlike anything you’d ever felt. You let out a soft cry, your eyes rolling back into your head as you began to shake against your lieutenants grasp. “Oh, oh my god!”

“Fuck, that’s it. Such a good fucking girl for me.” Simon pulled away from you, his mouth glistening from your arousal. The sight had the pleasant burn in your belly increasing. He looked so fucking hot.

“Simon.” You breathed, struggling to regain your senses. He made his way to you, crawling so that he was now hovering over you, a smile dancing on his lips as he looked down at you.

“You okay, sweetheart?” Simon cooed, pressing a gentle kiss to your sweaty forehead. “You were so fuckin’ good for me.”

You gave a weak nod, not trusting yourself to speak in that moment. You let your eyes flutter open, and found Simon looking at you intently, his lips parted ever so slightly.

You let your eyes flicker down, and saw Simon stroking at his impossibly hard cock. The sight made your mouth water, and had that invisible coil forming in your belly once more.

“You think you’re up for cummin’ again, love?”