#I hope to ask him the next time he streams possibly

[youredyingthatsallthereis]

"bug? you still there?"

roach jolted awake, nodding before he remembered ghost couldn't see him. "mhm," he hummed, hoping the affirmative was loud enough that ghost would hear.

"thought i lost ya there for a second," ghost teased. "gettin' sleepy on me again?"

just a little, but im fine, roach typed into their chat.

"hm," ghost mused into his mic. roach blinked and refocused on the stream; ghost was playing stardew valley for him again. they were quiet for a moment as ghost made quick work of harvesting some rice and jogging over to the barn his livestock were in. "if you're tired i can just cut it here, its not a big deal."

no no no, its fine! roach typed quickly. i like listening to you talk.

it was far from the first time he'd said it, but every time he said it now it felt...heavier, somehow. like there was more...something in it.

it had been a few months of this; they took turns streaming games for each other as a way to chat and hang out and over the course of their time doing it roach had found himself feeling more and more...something for ghost. he'd never had such a strong feeling about anyone before, nothing even close; he'd never felt so happy and calm and content to just listen to someone before.

ghosts accent was unique to his american ears, something he wasnt used to but that he enjoyed enormously. something lilting and calm and just distinctly ghost that made him smile every time the call connected and ghost said "hey bug." the gentle inflection, the sweet nickname, all of it just very...as much as roach felt flutters in his stomach admitting it (even in his own mind), it was just theirs.

presently ghost chuckled at the freely given compliment. "i love that you like to listen to me."

they always did it like this; a voice call for roach to listen to ghost when he streamed, and a video stream with chat when roach played survival horror for ghost. roach relied on sign and expressions/body language to convey his moods/reactions, and while ghost was still trying to pick up on some of the ASL roach frequently used (like 'why' and 'do not want') he hoped that ghost appreciated being able to see him.

ghost had told him early on that video calls made him feel a little awkward and that's why he just preferred voice, and even though he couldn't talk back roach was happy to do it this way. their way. more than anything he wanted ghost to feel comfortable and was ever grateful that he got to listen to him at all.

he smiled and cuddled his blåhaj closer, propping himself up against the wall behind his bed to try and stay awake. something about listening to ghost narrate what he was doing while he walked around his farm or the caves or even just stood and fished, wanting to get every single type of fish possible, made him feel so content and calm and frankly, safe. he felt embarrassed to even have the thought, but sometimes when he closed his eyes while ghost was talking he wondered if that was what it would feel like to have ghost really sitting next to him, talking to him close while he played maybe on a switch or on his laptop. he wondered if ghost would want them to sit close enough to be touching softly, maybe their legs pressed up against each otherwhile roach sleepily enjoyed his narrations.

"do you think i should bother with more chickens? or maybe more ducks? i like having the extra mayo for sale," ghost was musing out loud.

"hmmm," roach hummed thoughtfully. i'd go for a few more ducks as long as the hay to feed them isnt too expensive, he typed into their chat. they're cute and i love how you named them all after sanrio characters. you could call the next one tuxedo sam.

"true, kuromi the void duck was the last one i got, and that was a while ago," ghost considered. "and that big blue penguin is damn cute."

roach smiled. he loved ghost's fixation on sanrio characters, finding it as endearing as he was realizing he found just about everything else about ghost.

"are you sure you're not too tired?" ghost asked one more time. "its almost the end of the in game day and my save isn't going anywhere."

roach bit his lip. one more day? he asked. then i should probably go to sleep; its almost 1am here.

ghost chuckled over the call. "alright," he agreed. "one more day."

[kittyboones]

I swear Zach Tinker mentioned he'd show up in 9-1-1 or something, but I didn't see him at all, and I even checked out the latest episode of Lone Star, but he didn't set his latest stream so it could be rewatched from what I know, so I can't even check if it was actually 9-1-1 he said or not😔

[osaemu]

GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ THE CUTEST COUPLE ON THE INTERNET! ❜❜

.ೃ࿐ streamer!au: what happens when you flirt with one of his many rivals?

contents: fem!reader. playful jealousy, it's nothin' serious. toji flirts with you <3 chat continues to make fun of satoru + fortnite slander. pretty short but uh... anyways.

author's note: live laugh love streamer!gojo

"c'mon, satoru," suguru drawls, smiling at your boyfriend through the screen. "how'd you get eliminated so fast? you must've set a world record," he teases, poking fun at the way satoru completely bombed the last round.

you snicker from your spot on satoru's bed, and he turns and sticks his tongue out at you. satoru had convinced you to come over just a couple minutes ago, and any hope you had of doing your homework in peace flew out the window the moment he went live. 

"shut up," satoru huffs, turning back to his monitor and scrunching up his nose at suguru. the two are close enough for them to banter and insult each other without any fear of resentment. suguru laughs in response, velvety voice resulting in a burst of heart emojis from the comments.

"well, i gotta go," suguru sighs, leaning back in his dark, plush chair. he smiles and waves with a reminder of when his next stream will be before signing off. 

satoru spins around in his chair a couple times and scrunches up his face at the screen. "why are you guys still here?" he asks, ruffling his hair and raising an eyebrow. "y'wanna see my girlfriend again or something?"

the chat explodes with a flurry of yes's, so satoru swivels his chair around and looks straight at you. he looks at you expectantly, opening his arms and beckoning you. "c'mere, sweetheart," he says, voice singsongy and light.

"you're so annoying," you mumble, rolling over and hopping off his bed.

"and i'm all yours," satoru replies immediately, shooting you a cheeky smile. 

whenever you call him annoying or stupid or a clueless idiot, satoru responds the same way every time. and both of you know that you certainly can't do much better than your sweetheart of a boyfriend, even if he is the brattiest boy you know.

you run your fingers through your hair and walk over to him, resting your chin on his shoulder and waving at his camera. "hey guys," you say with a smile. satoru turns to his head to kiss your cheek affectionately, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you closer.

as you lean into satoru's embrace, you scan the comments. most of them are either hi's and hello's, but a select few make you laugh.

yuuji-itadori: they make me feel so single :( 

inumaki: brb im about to violently throw up

toji-fushiguro: she can do so much better tbh

satoru scoffs at the last two comments, jutting his chin out and glaring at the screen. "why are you two still here?" he huffs, pointing at the camera and narrowing his eyes. the hand on your waist tightens as satoru pulls you into his lap. "inumaki, don't you have a fortnite round to lose? and you, toji, i'm this close to blocking you from my streams!" he grumbles. 

the chat explodes with various expressions of laughter, and you can't help but giggle at the responses satoru's jibes get.

inumaki: kys

inumaki: whats wrong with playing fortnite??? most fire game ever fym

toji-fushiguro: im not here for u loser

satoru mimicks inumaki with a high-pitched voice and goes on a minute-long tangent of why fortnite is the one of the shittiest games ever, and eventually inuaki chooses to retreat with a last snarky comment before he disappears. then, your riled-up boyfriend turns on toji.

"if you're not here for me, who could you possibly be here for?" satoru snorts, resting his chin on the top of your head. his hands intertwine as he wraps his arms around you snugly, securing you on his lap.

the next message from toji catches you and satoru off-guard, but your reactions are entirely different. you laugh and smile bashfully, while satoru nearly knocks you off of him when he yells "what?!"

toji-fushiguro: i'm here for your pretty gf duh

before satoru can fire a thousand insults toji's way, you reach up and clasp your hand over his mouth. your boyfriend's eyes widen in the reflection of his monitor, and you have to suppress the urge to ruffle his hair and kiss him stupid. sure, you'll probably make out with him after the stream, but you think that it'd be even more fun to mess with him first.

"aw, you think i'm pretty?" you ask playfully, directing your words at toji. "i've seen you around," you muse, twirling a strand of hair around your finger with the hand not covering satoru's mouth. you smile coyly at the screen before continuing, "you're not so bad yourself, honestly."

satoru whines incredulously against your hand, and you can't suppress the laugh that slips past your lips. he bounces his foot on the floor impatiently, and eventually he reaches around you and quickly presses a couple buttons to end the stream. "baby, i love you but sometimes you drive me crazy," he grumbles, hoisting you over his shoulder as he stands up. 

"let me go!"

"okay!" he replies, dropping you on his bed with a cheeky smile. satoru's eyes narrow as he watches you scramble to sit up, and you puff up your cheeks indignantly. satoru plops down next to you and pulls you into his chest, face barely an inch away from yours.

"what was that?!" satoru whines, glaring at you sullenly. he tugs at the bottom of your shirt and juts out his bottom lip in an exaggerated pout.  

"satoru, are you jealous?" you snicker, leaning in and kissing his nose. he scrunches his face up and frowns, but the corners of his mouth seem to tilt upwards. satoru pulls you into a kiss and holds you there for a second, smiling against your lips. 

"no," satoru huffs, rolling his eyes. "i'm hotter than him, and i'm not a total asshole." he wraps his arms around your waist and nudges your cheek with his nose, clear blue eyes focused on your lips. 

"true," you agree, wrapping your arms around his neck and melting into his embrace. satoru really is the best boyfriend you could ask for—everything about the two of you just works.

satoru pinches you gently and kisses your nose. "say that you love me."

you smile and close your eyes, suddenly more relaxed than you've been in the last couple days. "of course i love you, dummy."

"love you more, cheate— ow, i'm kidding, i'm kidding!"

[alvojake]

Scream For Me | Y.JW

「paring」 : ghostface!bf!jungwon x fem!reader 「word count」 : 4.4k

「synopsis」 : word of a masked serial killer spreads like wildfire in your small town, but it never fully sets in until you come face-to-face with the very killer who just so happens to be your sweet boyfriend and he has an ulterior motive.

「genre」 : pure smut with some plot, horror/thriller, angst, serial killer au

「warning」 : jungwon is a killer, blood, dom!jungwon x sub!reader, knife play, cursing, fingering, petnames (baby, princess, my love, slut), won is MEAN, messy, oral (f. receiving), jungwon is kinda manipulative in the beginning, degradation, dacryphilia, choking, minor hair pulling, making out, unprotected sex (don't be silly, wrap your willy), thigh riding, teasing, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, begging, marking, breeding kink, creampie, passing out, slight manhandling, I feel like I def missed a few things, pls lmk!

「note」 : so I kinda went a little crazy with this one... this has been a serious brainrot so I hope you enjoy it! also, it's only been lightly edited!

The room suddenly felt ten times colder than it did just moments before, your heart was racing and you could hear it through your ears. Your phone was tightly clutched in your hand as your eyes scanned all of the windows in your house, his words still ringing in your head.

“It’s such a shame, a pretty thing like you left your doors unlocked…”

Word of a serial killer in your small town had gotten to you, but you never really thought much of it because, of course, you were always with your boyfriend. However, the one night that he had family matters to attend to was the very night this killer decided to make his move.

Tears had already pooled in your eyes, terror filling your veins. The person had used a voice changer so it wasn’t like you could try to figure out who it was by their voice. You stood in your kitchen racking your brain for possibilities on who this masked killer could be, all while your front door creaked open quietly.

The sound of your floorboards creaking caught your attention, head turned in the direction of the noise. Without a second thought, you started slowly walking down the hall. It was almost like the fear had made you lose all your common sense, doing things you swore you’d never do while watching horror movies. 

“Hello?” Your meek voice called out, bouncing off of the empty halls, gaining no response besides a small echo of your own voice. 

A scream tore through your throat as a vase next to you fell and shattered, glass fragments scattering all around your bare feet. Looking down with wide, teary eyes, you try to tiptoe around the broken shards without cutting yourself. 

‘What did I do to deserve this…?’

The tears finally spilled from your eyes as you made it to the end of the hall, seeing your front door wide open. This was actually going to be the end, wasn’t it? You’d never get to finish school like you planned, you’d never get to hang out with your friends anymore, see your parents at dinner, or volunteer at the animal shelter with Jungwon. Jungwon. Oh, how you wish you could talk to your sweet boyfriend one last time, tell him that everything would be okay and that you love him.

You were torn from your thoughts as a loud crash was heard from upstairs causing you to nearly jump out of your skin. Cries fell from your lips as you looked between the open door and the stairs, debating on whether you should just run for it.

‘Why the fuck am I even asking that?’ 

You turn, making your way to the front door, however, before you could step through the threshold you heard a voice.

“Y/n? Baby?” 

Your heart dropped at the sound of your boyfriend's voice, why is he here? Turning away from the door, hands trembling as you reached for the railing of the stairs. “Won?” Your voice cracked as you tried peeking up the stairs, but saw nothing.

“Baby, help me please.” He sounded like he was on the verge of tears and it broke you, tears streaming down your face, sobs falling from your lips. 

Whether it was the fear or the need to save your boyfriend you turn and go back down the hallway, stepping over the glass once more. As if luck wasn’t on your side at all, you ended up stepping on a stray piece of glass causing a sharp pain to shoot up your leg. A loud cry left your lips as you leaned against a wall, the phone falling from your hand.

Tears continued to stream down your flushed face as you grabbed your foot to look at the damage done. Biting your lip you grab the shard before pulling it from your foot, a trail of crimson blood following after it.

Another crash from upstairs reminded you of the situation once more and you scrambled to the kitchen, straight to the knife stand. Grabbing one of the bigger knives, your hands trembling as you made your way back to the stairs, walking through the living room so as to not step on any more glass. 

You call out for your boyfriend once more as you take the steps slowly, leaving a trail of red behind you. However, you were met with silence.

Terror struck you as you got to the top of the step, there were boot prints on the ground that you hadn’t noticed before, leading straight to your bedroom. Holding the knife defensively in front of you, hands trembling, you move to the ajar door, pushing it open.

Your eyes went wide as the door swung open, there was your boyfriend, on his knees in the middle of your room.

“Jungwon!” You quickly made your way towards him, throwing all caution to the wind to make sure he was okay. The knife fell from your hands as you dropped to your knees in front of him, the sound of soft cries falling from his lips. “Hold on, I'll get you out of here.” Panic and worry surge through you, going to untie his hands from behind him, only to realize. He wasn’t tied up.

“Oh y/n, y/n, y/n.” The cries turned into laughter as he lifted his head meeting your eyes. Jungwon watched in amusement as the worry on your face morphed into terror. You try to reach for the knife that you discarded, but you aren’t quick enough. Jungwon snatched the object off of the ground, “Ahahah now my love, don’t act too rash now.” he chuckled as he towered over your trembling form.

The sight of the tears falling from your beautiful doe eyes as you looked up at him caused his cock to twitch behind his pants. 

Your eyes trailed from his blood-speckled face down the length of his body before falling on the mask in his left hand. The same Ghostface mask that the police have reported the killer to always be wearing. Looking back up you met Jungwon’s eyes as realization set in. The man before you, your boyfriend, the same man who would never hurt a bug, was a cold-blooded killer.

Jungwon smirked as he crouched down in front of you, moonlight gleaming off of the knife in his hand. You watched him in fear, fear of what he was going to do with you. Was he going to kill you? Or was all of this some sick joke his friend put him up to, but with the curfew in town set you knew that'd be hard to pull off.

“Why are you so surprised, my love? I thought you were smarter than this.” His voice was cold, nothing like the warm and sweet one you were used to. Then his words registered in your brain, what did he mean? Taking in your confused expression he brought his hand with the mask, taping a gloved finger to his temple, “Use that pretty head of yours.”

As you thought more and more about how the killings always lined up when he wasn’t with you, the more you started to realize that it had been right under your nose. 

Jungwon watched with a sadistic smile as he noticed your shaking die down, as well as your breathing evened out. Even in this insane situation, your body was subconsciously relaxing in his presence. 

“It was really you?” Your voice shook as you looked back up at him, tears silently flowing down your face.

Jungwon just hummed with a nod, “Yep.” he popped the ‘p’ as he brought the knife closer to his face, inspecting it. “It’s therapeutic honestly, you should try it sometime, I know how stressed you get.”

You swallowed thickly as you watched the light bounce off of the sharp metal, your fear was slowly melting away. Noticing your lingering gaze, Jungwon pointed the knife towards you, the sharp point barely a centimeter away from your nose. Your breath hitched, eyes wide as you looked from the weapon to your boyfriend's dark eyes.

“Don’t be getting any funny ideas now, princess.” His tone is dark, making your stomach flip. 

“I wasn’t…” Letting out a shaky breath you reach forward cautiously still believing that he would never hurt you, grabbing his wrist and pulling the object away from your face. “I wasn’t going to, Won, I swear.”

He chuckled darkly before dropping his mask to encase your throat in his palm, squeezing hard enough to limit your oxygen. Pushing your body down roughly until your back was flat on the cold ground, his body caging yours underneath him. He traced the knife down the side of your face, a crazed look in his eyes causing a whimper to leave your lips, rubbing your thighs together.

Your head started to spin as so many emotions started to spiral, but fear and lust were the ones to overthrow the others. Why was this turning you on? You were supposed to be fighting to get his hand off your throat, but you only hoped he’d squeeze more. The knife that was so close to cutting your skin only excited you more. Then his face, god his face covered in blood was a sight you didn’t know you needed.

Noticing how you started to squirm underneath him, Jungwon smirked, squeezing your throat more. A broken moan tore through your lips as your eyes screwed shut, heat pooling in your lower gut.

“Are you enjoying this?” He leaned closer to your face, warm breath brushing across your lips. Your eyes fluttered open to show him the need and lust that swirled in them causing him to smile, his teeth peeking out from between his lips. “Such a dirty slut,”

He pulled away slightly to trailed the blade over your collarbone, before moving to hook the knife under your shirt. You whined as the sounds of your top ripping filled the room.

“And you’re not wearing a bra, such a naughty girl.” He teased as he placed the blade back on your bare skin, tracing the tip down the valley of your breast leaving goosebumps in its wake. A shaky sigh fell from your lips as you looked at your boyfriend, whose gaze was already on you, studying your reactions.

When he brought the blade to the sensitive skin of your nipple, you cried out, head falling back. Jungwon could feel himself growing even harder in his jeans, never knowing his sweet little girlfriend would enjoy something so dirty. Then he got ideas of how he could torture you until you were begging for his cock.

A broken ‘please’ fell from your lips causing Jungwon to look at you with a sadistic smirk, dragging the blade away from your boob, and down your stomach. When he got closer to your core, your hips bucked causing the knife to puncture your skin. Your head fell back with a moan at the sudden pain, it ignited a new kind of flame in your gut.

“Fuck.” Jungwon cursed as he watched in amazement at how your body was reacting. He pulled the blade away from your skin resulting in a whine from you. Blood trickled from the small cut flowing down your side before meeting the band of your sleep shorts, dying the fabric red.

He chuckled as he watched you squirm under his hold, your hands trying to reach him. Letting go of your throat you let out a gasp before he grabbed the back of your head, his lips smashing into yours. A small yelp of surprise fell from your lips before melting into his lips, matching his pace, fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt.

His free hand trailed down your sensitive skin making you moan into his mouth, his fingers tracing circles on the inside of your thigh as he got closer to your core. Your hips buck into his hand desperate for his touch.

"Hmm, you're not very patient, are you?" Jungwon whispered against your lips before biting your bottom lip, nearly drawing blood. You whimpered at the pain before he pulled your lip into his mouth, sucking harshly making your head spin.

His fingers slipped past the waistband of your bottom, smearing blood on your abdomen in the process. Your jaw fell slack, a moan falling from your parted lips as his finger brushed against your slit.

“Such a dirty, dirty girl, I’ve barely done anything and you’re already so wet.” He berated you, watching you whine, tears pooling in your eyes because your body felt so hot and he wasn’t doing anything to help, just watching with that same smirk on his lips.

“Please, Jungwon, please please.” You sounded like a broken record begging for him to do something.

However, he pulled his hand from your pussy and moved away from your body altogether. You moved yourself to sit up, watching him with wide eyes as he walked towards your bed, pulling the gloves off of his hands. He sat on the edge of the bed before looking over at you with a raised eyebrow.

“Well? Get over here.” His voice was rough, with a hint of annoyance as he watched you continue to sit on the ground. Seeing anger flash across his face made your stomach turn causing you to scramble to your feet. 

Jungwon watched as you meekly walked towards him, your boobs bouncing slightly with each step you took. When you stood before him, he looked up at you taking in the sight of you looking right at the bulge in his jeans shamelessly.

“If you wanna cum so badly…” His voice broke your trance making you meet his eyes as he grabbed your hips, pulling you into his lap. You whined as you felt his bulge press right against your clothed core. “Then ride my thigh.”

“But-” “It’s my thigh or nothing, princess. I’m not lifting a finger to help you get off.” He cut you off, getting ready to push you off of him, but you grabbed his shoulders telling him to wait.

Your face flushed in embarrassment, he’s never asked for anything like this any other time you’ve had sex. He was always sweet and making sure you were taken care of, but seeing this new side of him was a sort of whiplash.

As you moved to straddle his thigh, he removed his hands from your hips using them to support himself as he leaned back. Watching as you started rocking back and forth on his thigh, hands fisting his shirt trying to ground yourself. Sigh-like moans leave your lips as you spread your legs further trying to gain more friction.

Jungwon watched in amusement as your body shuddered in pleasure, trying to keep yourself balanced. However, the closer you got to your climax the more rushed your movements became and the volume of your moans increased.

“Wonnie please…” You whined as you slumped forward, legs growing numb due to the overwhelming pleasure. Jungwon knew you were close because of the way your jaw fell slack and your knuckles turned white due to gripping his shirt so tight.

“Oh come on baby, you’re not tired already, are you?” He mocked you as you continued to whine out, rocking your hips furiously. Wanting to prove him wrong you sat up a little bit more, your head falling back. 

Your high was so dangerously close that you could taste it, “W-Won!”

“Go on, cum on my thigh like the desperate slut you are.” His words had you tipping over the edge, your body shaking as you rode out your orgasm. Jungwon sat up taking your hips in his hands once more, pulling them further down on his thigh, a loud moan leaving your lips. He continued to rock you against him, forcing your body into overstimulation.

“W-Won- fuck, ‘s too much.” You whimper, head falling into the crook of his neck, hand on his bicep.

“But you were so desperate to cum baby, I’m just helping you.” He chuckled as he felt your body shudder, face still buried in his neck. Leaning forward a bit he pressed a kiss to your shoulder making your body tingle. 

You could feel another high creeping up on you, “Won… I’m close.” Another, softer moan left your lips as you kissed his neck. He flexed his thigh underneath you causing your body to tremble as another orgasm washed over you, groaning against his neck.

Jungwon didn’t give you a second to rest, picking you up and laying you on the bed. Not even a second later his lips were on your neck sucking harshly leaving bright red marks in his wake. A loud moan broke through your lips as he bit down on your collarbone, hand flying to his head. 

He left a trail of his marks down your chest before taking one of your nipples into his mouth, your back arching pushing further into his mouth. Your fingers tugged his hair against his nape causing him to groan against your skin, hands on your hips pulling your body flush against his.

“You taste so sweet, baby.” He raised his head, his eyes holding an animalistic gleam, “but I bet your pussy tastes sweeter.” Your head falls back as he cups your core, pressing against your clothed core. With a devilish smirk, he lets his lips trail down your tummy, licking your wound and letting the crimson liquid coat his tongue. 

Looking down you felt like you wanted to combust at the sight of him tracing his tongue along the trail of dried blood. When he got to the hem of your shorts he pulled away, meeting your eyes as he tugged them down your legs. Watching the way you held your breath, eyes following his hands until the cloth was completely off of your body. 

Throwing them to the side, Jungwon turned back to you taking in the sight of your body, completely bare before him. Grabbing your ankle he brought it to his shoulder pressing a kiss on your calf watching as you squirmed under him, your lip between your teeth keeping from letting any sounds slip.

“Why are you so quiet now baby?” He asked as he trailed to your inner thigh listening to your breath hitch. Getting closer to your core, he blew on it watching the way your hole clenched around nothing. Chuckling darkly he laid your leg over her shoulder before licking a long stripe up your slit collecting your juices and cum on his tongue, humming at the taste. Your hands go to tangle in his hair, but he stops you. “Ah, hands behind your back.”

“But-” “Now, or I’ll tie you to the headboard and you won’t get to touch me at all.” He threatened and you whined but followed his instructions nonetheless. Arching your back enough to place your arms underneath before laying back down, trapping them.

Satisfied with your actions he goes back down on you, harshly sucking on your clit, eliciting a loud cry from your lips. He hummed against you, finally getting you to release your sounds again. He continued to devour your pussy like a starved man, broken moans and cries fell from your parted lips, hips bucking against his face.

His hand that was holding your hip moved to press down on your stomach, keeping you in place. Your eyes rolled back as you felt his tongue against your gummy walls, his nose pressing against your clit deliciously. 

“You taste heavenly my love,” He groaned against you, making your head spin, a cry of his name leaving your lips, fingers digging into the sheets under you. When he pressed two fingers into you so easily you felt like you could cum then and there. 

His pace was relentless as he pumped his fingers into you while switching between soft and hard sucks on your clit. The sensation was driving you insane and you felt like you could scream. 

You didn’t even give him a warning when you came as his fingers brushed over your sweet spot. Your vision turned white as you screamed his name, everything becoming extremely overwhelming, but he didn’t let up on his pace, dragging your orgasm out as long as he possibly could. You tried to get away from him as you felt another orgasm creeping up quickly, but his grip was too strong.

“Scream for me again princess, let the neighbors know who’s making you feel so good.” He smirked as he looked at you, his lower face glistening in your juices. His fingers continued to abuse your sweet spot until your whole body shook.

“OH MY GOD!” You cried out as your fourth orgasm of the night hit you like a tidal wave. Jungwon watched smugly as you rode out your high on his fingers before pulling them from your needy hole.

You whined softly at the sudden empty feeling and he laid your trembling leg down on the bed before leaning over you, pressing his lips against yours. You moaned at the taste of yourself on his tongue, he pulled your arms out from underneath you.

He grabbed your hand before leading it down his torso before groaning as your fingertips brushed against his clothes cock.

“You feel that baby?” He hissed through his teeth as you pressed your palm against him, “It’s all because of you and you’re gonna help me right?” He asked as he nipped at your jaw earning a whine from you, “gonna let me fuck this slutty pussy right?” You moaned as he moved your hand to your own sopping cunt. 

“P-Please.” You begged looking at him, eyes pleading with him.

“Please what princess?” He brought your hand to his mouth, licking your juices off of your own fingers, “you want my cock?” You nodded, biting your lip, eyes never leaving his. He grabbed your other wrist before pinning your hands next to your head, rolling his hips against yours, a moan tore through your lips. His lips ghosted over yours, “I wanna hear you say it.” 

His eyes bore into yours, your bottom lip quivering. With another roll of his hip, your brain turned into mush. Your hands balled into fists, eyes screwing shut, “fuck, Wonnie please, I want your cock in me so bad, fuck me please, Wonnie, please.” You rambled on as Jungwon watched you lose yourself smugly. He doesn’t know why he didn’t try this earlier, this was the hottest he’s ever seen you and it made him ten times harder. 

Releasing his hold on you he moved back to pull his shirt over his head leaving you to ogle at his bare torso. Reaching out you let your finger brush against his skin before he gave you a look making you retract your hand worried he’d deny you of his cock for longer.

Undoing his belt and unzipping his pants he pulled them down along with his underwear letting his dick spring free. Your mouth watered at the sight of it, yearning for it even more. Noticing your gaze Jungwon smirked, moving closer to you and grabbing your thighs pulling you closer to the edge of the bed.

“I haven’t even put it in yet and you already look like you’re about to cum.” He teased as he slapped the tip of his cock against your clit making you whine and squirm. A smug smirk tugged on his as he lined his tip up with your entrance watching your eyes roll.

“Fuck.”  You cursed as he pushed in before stilling and grabbing your hips to keep you from moving them, a whine leaving your lips.

Without any warning, he thrusted into you stealthing his length in you in one go causing you to quite literally scream his name, nails digging into the sheets. He smiled sadistically as he leaned down next to your ear, pushing deeper into you.

“You just love getting fucked by a serial killer don’t you y/n?” He nipped at your ear, “I bet you’d love it even more if I wore the mask huh?” Your brain was foggy, not able to voice a single thing, but your body did the talking for you. Jungwon groaned as he felt you tighten around him, squeezing his dick like you never wanted him to leave. “You’re such a dirty slut.” He berated you with a smile before he pulled his hip back until only his tip was left in you.

He thrusted his hips back into you, a moan leaving your lips as your eyes rolled back. He kept the brutal pace, his hand that was on your hip traveled up to your neck, squeezing and making you squeak. Tears fell from your eyes, drool spilling from the corner of your lips as you babbled nonsense. 

Jungwon could feel himself grow even harder at the sight of your fucked out state, taking in your teary eyes that would look at him before rolling back when he hit a particular spot in your cunt.

“God, you feel so good, princess.” He groaned as you squeezed around him, he had been hard for so long that he knew he wasn’t going to last long, not if your pussy kept squeezing him like this. “Fuck I’m not gonna last, I need you to cum for me, baby.” He breathed out as he grabbed your leg, throwing it over his shoulder. The new angle had you seeing stars, your vision quite literally going dark, a pitiful squeak falling from your swollen lips. “I’m gonna stuff you full of my cum and you’re gonna take every last drop like the good little slut you are.”

His words were your tipping point, your orgasm hitting you like a ton of bricks. Your mouth fell open in a silent moan and Jungwon groaned loudly as you squeezed him so hard, pushing him over as well.

His cum painted your walls white as he continued to fuck it into you and you were milking him for all he was worth as your walls continued to pulse around him. He felt your body go limp against his making him look up at your face seeing that you had passed out.

“Aww, how cute…” He cooed as he continued to roll his hips into yours until he went completely soft inside you. “Don’t worry I’ll take care of you.”

@alvojake | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work

𝖉𝖎��𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.

[bunnys-kisses]

love is a kick to the stomach

max verstappen - sequel to: lust is a loaded hand gun

tags: smut/fluff, pregnancy & kids, falling in love, dad!max, body worship, tenderness, plot, cowgirl position

a/n: this was made possible by the support of over a dozen people asking for a sequel! i hope you enjoy it <3

"are you sure you're going to be fine on your own?" your former teammate charles asked as he helped you pack the last of your suitcases. your apartment in monaco was bare, and for good reason, you were going home.

you replied with a shrug, "i'll be fine. i mean if i could sustain a driving career for as long as i did. i can handle raising a baby." you rubbed your lower back a little bit.

charles said,"i guess so, you know, monaco isn't a terrible place to raise a child." he gestured to himself with raised eyebrows.

"as much as i'd love to." you said, "i think people will start to raise eyebrows when they see max's look-alike running around. plus, i guess it's a way to get away from it. something simpler for my kid."

you hadn't spoken to the father of your son, max didn't know you were pregnant. and it was the best for everyone if he never knew that you had a child with him.

you remember the first time you held nicolas in your arms, it took you close to ten hours for you to deliver him. you had to say, the aches and pains of racing were nothing compared to the rising anxiety and pain of delivering a child. didn't help he was stubborn like this father. you tried not to think about max too much during the moments of lessened pain. part of you wanted him there, while you were determined to raise your child alone. the moments of weakness you felt during delivery made you want to hastily unblock max's number and call him before the next contractions came.

"okay, okay. just you and me, baby, just you and me." you told yourself as you laid in the hospital bed with your belly swollen from the months of carrying your son. you hissed through your teeth as another contraction hit.

in the end, you had nicolas. or nico as you called him. tired, over-heated as you pushed out your baby. the nurse told you it was a boy. wrapped in a blanket as he was placed on your chest. you could only describe it as maternal warmth as you cried. this was your baby. your little nico. "congratulations." the nurse told you as you held onto him gently. when you gave birth to your son, max was in monaco streaming with the rest of the redline team. fully unaware that you just had his child.

you lived a quiet life after that, but sometimes you could still feel the rumble of the track in your soul. it pulled you in, there was no reason for it to come back. there was no way you could, nico needed his mother and you made the choice to start a family of your own.

"nico!" you giggled towards your toddler, nico was now close to three years old! you picked him up from his spot at the coffee table, surrounded by papers and markers. you gave him a kiss on the cheek and said, "remember uncle charlie?" you swayed a little with the child in your arms.

the little boy nodded, "uh-huh." charles sent you and nico christmas presents every year. he even visited once or twice during summer break and spent a week with the two of you, he loved the time away from the hustle and bustle of racing. nico knew uncle charlie mostly because of leo, you had to teach him how to be gentle with the dog.

"well, he is inviting us somewhere. we're going to see him race, just like what mama used to do." it was the pre-season testing, it would be nice to see everyone. see how things changed in the three years since you left, "i know you've been asking about the cars." you smiled at the little boy.

nico really was the son of two racers, even now he was colouring pages of cars and he learned some of his colours from the cars in your neighbourhood. his expression light up, "the cars?"

you chuckled and said, "yes! we'll see the cars go really fast." it felt somewhat silly to say that raising a child felt more fulfilling than any of the titles you won.

it was almost more challenging with more rewards. driving was intense and lit an inferno in your stomach. but, you were constantly swarmed by the media with people yelling in your ear at all times. you were both hated and loved by the press, the organization and the fans. and while parenthood was harder in a lot of ways, it was nice. it was quieter. you saw friends, you found interest in painting, you read all the books you bought on your travels as a racer. the best part about having a kid was having a travel buddy. you weren't your stats or your trophies, you were just you.

but driving was a drug, and you also wanted to see the cars go very fast. so within a couple of weeks you were on the track for the pre-season.

"and that nico, is a racing car." you pointed towards the red ferrari car. a similar one to the one you drove. and you watched your young son light up the way you did all those years prior.

-

you knew you were going to see max. it was stupid to think that you could not see him. he had won the previous year's wdc, he was everywhere. so while you spoke to lewis and charles, you caught sight of him. and he caught sight of the toddler in your arms.

charles looked over to where your gaze was and said, "oh shit." then tried to shift over to sort of usher you and nico away from the gaze of max. but you reached out and touched your former teammates shoulder.

"it's fine..." you assured him. the past year, as it felt like nico was growing so much everyday. the feelings about max had resurfaced. while you believed that you and your network of friends and family could raise nico just fine. max didn't know that nico existed. a night of passion was just that in max's mind.

you shifted your toddler in your arms and looked over to max. you smiled and gave him a small wave. and you could see the expression cross max's face.

nico let go of the front of your shirt and made child's grabby-hands towards the man. and max took a bold step forward, and then another, and then another before he was crowded in your space. an expression across his face as he looked down at you and nico.

"hey." you said.

"hi." he replied. he raised his hand for a moment, but stopped himself. he swallowed and asked, "who is this?"

you looked down at the boy who was holding onto your shirt once more. you smiled at max, "nicolas. but everyone calls him nico. he's my son."

our son.

max swallowed and looked at the boy. he patted him on the top of the head and smiled, "well, hello nico. your mama was an amazing driver." he looked at you once more before you were pulled away by charles to see the rest of the ferrari team. max watched you walk away, just as he did all those years prior.

-

"can i watch nico?" charles asked while

"i can watch him just fine. i've been doing it for three years." you chuckled as you grabbed a chip from the bag and ate it.

charles crossed his arms and looked at you, "when was the last time you had a break? plus me and alexandra are thinking about, maybe, having a child once my career winds down." he smiled a little, "want to make sure that i can handle a three year old."

you looked to your son on the carpeted floor playing with the duplo blocks that you had brought with you. you then looked to charles and asked, "so you're probably assuming that if you can handle the son of me and him, you can handle your own child?"

charles nodded, "the child of ferrari's princess and mad max. must be a handful." he laughed a little.

"he's not the son of satan, charles." you playfully shoved your former teammate. and he shrugged. you were thankful in a way that you didn't go with charles' plan for him to father your child. you felt like that would've been more complicated than what you had now, since you liked charles' current partner.

"take the night off or at least a few hours. go do something for yourself." charles gave you a sympathetic glance. and you had no choice to concede.

he was right, since nico's birth you had no time for yourself unless he was asleep. but usually you fell asleep too. in the end you dressed nicely, in a pencil skirt and a white blouse. you had your purse on hand and told charles to text you if there were any issues. and you made nico promise you to be good. you kissed the boy's cheek before you headed out.

you ended up at a bar. it wasn't busy and you blended in with the other patrons. the press didn't bother you too much, you had been out of the spotlight for long that it was mostly making the public aware that you still existed and now you had a kid.

"well, well, well." a man's voice caught your attention. you looked up from your phone to see max by your table, "has ferrari's princess finally come back to her castle."

you swallowed, "hi, max."

"where's the little one?"

"with charles tonight."

max nodded, "i was going to make a joke about him being the father... but i know that's not true." he sat down across from you at the table. he rested his forearms on the table, his watch shined in the low light of the bar, "what happened?"

"nothing happened. i just retired."

"with my son... a son i knew nothing about." his voice was low, "why didn't you tell me? do you think so low of me i wouldn't have tried to help? you ran off back home and blocked me..." there was a look in his eyes.

"i didn't want to burden the world champion." you lied as you took a sip of your stiff drink. you felt tension in your shoulders as you took a sip. your heart rattled in your chest, "i didn't expect you to do anything. i didn't need you to."

max reached across the small table and took a hold of your wrist to bring your closer. then he locked his fingers with yours. he said, "maybe i wanted to... did you never think i wanted to be a father?"

you swallowed, "no." you assumed he didn't. not after everything, you heard enough of his father's berating in your karting career. the angry dutch words followed by insults in english so everyone knew what was being said. and that apprently only scratched the surface of what had been done to him. you thought max was a good fit because he would be so disinterested in being a parent. but as he looked at you, hand in yours. you realized you made a grave error. you said, "being a parent isn't easy."

max chuckled, "i know. i'm not stupid. i thought about that night we shared, it comes back to me. i've never wanted someone the way i wanted you. and to know you carried my child, it only pulls me in more."

you took another sip of your drink with your free hand and said, "and what are you going to do about it, verstappen?" you may be a mother now, but you were ferrari's princess, the temptress on wheels. you'd still go toe-to-toe with any man.

max simply smiled.

-

you ended up in max's hotel room. his hands on you like they were all those years ago. he touched you the way a lover would as the two of you passionately made out. you moaned against his lips and you held onto his strong shoulders.

"i thought about you every day of your retirement. i wanted to know what happened. i thought you were sick." he kissed along your neck, his hands at your waist.

"i mean, i did have quite the stomach bug. took ten hours to get him out." you moaned a little bit as his lips grazed over your pulse point. you could feel a surge of pleasure through you. you had been with anyone intimately since max. you didn't have time for dates let alone hook-ups.

"i should've been there. i would've been there in a heartbeat. you, me, nico... a family." he said as he looked to you once more and you toyed with the material of his shirt, "i always had a fondness for you. you let nothing stop you."

you smiled, "i always thought you wanted a model... not a driver."

he pressed his chest against yours and looked into your eyes, "maybe in another time. i wish i could've seen you pregnant." he swallowed as his hands touched your breasts.

you chuckled lowly, "someone wanted a milf?"

he shook his head as he pressed his forehead to yours, "no, no. i wanted to see your body change from what we made. the child we made together."

"but racing..."

he groaned, "fuck it. choose between another trophy taking up space in my apartment... or a home with you and nico. such a hard choice, don't you think?" he chuckled as he held you so close to him. he groped your breasts, "a man who finds more fulfillment in pieces of plastic and metal than having a home to go to is a stupid man."

you chuckled, "i guess i didn't want to be your wag either."

he shook his head, "i don't think you can be a wag if you played the sport. if you are worried about there being expectations placed on you, then don't worry. if you can't drive, then i'll drive twice as hard for us. any ten second gap i have will be twenty seconds, because i know you only expect the best."

you felt warmth in your cheeks. and eventually he led you to the bedroom. you ended up on the bed with max undoing your button up. you giggled, "ah, does someone like mothers?"

he groaned with his nose against your heated skin, "only when they had my kid... nico looked exactly like me." he said as he got the button up off your shoulder.

you moaned, but then yelped as he pushed you back onto the bed. you looked up at him, "i'm on birth control." you licked your lips as you got out of your bra and max took off his t-shirt, "fuck, now i remember why i wanted to have a baby with you."

he put his hands on his hips and smiled. tiny waist, broad shoulders. a certain strength to him, but he didn't look like a dehydrated mess. he was strong in a way that excited you, but you also knew that he loved a good meal. long before he gorged himself on your cunt, he happily ate the meals you cooked. you remember he even said, "you'd make a great wife." which honestly sowed the seed that led to nico.

the night of passion that led to the making of your son. you could feel max's eyes wander across your body and he licked his lips. he said, "you look good. bit more curves than when we last were like this."

"yeah, i had an eight pound baby." you chuckled as you got the rest of your clothes off. max's hungry gaze lingered, "i got a few more curves that a track as carry him for nine months, you know he was three days overdue."

"stubborn." max laughed as he unzipped his jeans, "just like his mama."

you narrowed your eyes, "no, just like his old man." and max was all over you. the kissed became hungry and needy. neither of you had been intimate with another person since the night you made nico. three years ago. you were busy with a baby while max couldn't get you out of his head. he tried to find another woman, he tried to be close to someone. but you always pulled in the back of his mind.

both of you were into the hotel room and max kissed at your breasts. your breasts were roughly average size before you got pregnant. the training and weight guidelines for racing prevented you from having a big chest. but you went up at least a cup and a half during your pregnancy. and max loved kissing the heated skin.

"fuck." you gasped. both naked on the bed, moved against one another. it was like being in a familiar place. you knew max's body just as you did all those years ago. you kissed him and ended up straddled max's waist.

he was up against the pillows and your knees on either side of him. your hands roamed his chest and he shuddered. he looked up at you with those blue eyes, "please, fuck. please, give me a chance. give me a chance to be there for you and nico.."

you swallowed, you never expected that from max. a man on the top like that wouldn't easily quiver at the aspect of being a father. but max wanted it. he wanted the family. he wanted a home. you sighed to yourself, you guessed an apartment full of trophies wasn't enough.

you put a hand on his chest before you sank on his cock, "max. if nico decided not to peruse racing.... would you still love him?" that was a conversation you had to have with yourself. you loved racing, that was your passion for years. but you promised yourself to never be the parent that you saw early in your career. twisting their children to make them conform to the parent's standards. to force them into racing.

he said, those blue eyes gazed up at you, "if nico wanted to race. i'm behind him a hundred percent. if it doesn't, nothing changes... he is still my son. i'm behind him through everything."

you leaned down to kiss max on the lips, "fuck, max." you sank down onto his cock and continued to kiss him. you splayed your hands across his broad chest and continued to move against him.

"shit." he shuddered. he felt a certain euphoria that left him needy for more. never had he had soemthing like this. not since the last time he had you. it was a amazing. to have you so close once more. he wrapped his strong arms around you and moved against you. the kisses shared between you two were hot and heavy, it left him feeling tense in a good way. to have you on top of him, close to him was a feeling he wished he could never forget.

even after three years you still occupied his mind in ways that left him shuddering against you. after three years, after all this time, he still wanted to map your body with his tongue. even the changes post-pregnancy. he held onto you and kissed at your heated skin. he wished he was there, seeing the progress of you carrying nico. to be a father. he moved against you, he held you. he loved you, but he had been holding onto that love for some time. unable to properly display it, and to find out you had a child with him only fueled the passion for you. the two of you moved against one another, you both felt the intense pleasure from the heated movements against one another.

this was how you should've been a long time ago. if max had known you wanted a baby, he would've happily had one with you. but he should've been there for every moment of it. even if you couldn't race because of the pregnancy, max would kiss every winning trophy in your honor, he'd race for both of you. and then come to the paddock with you and nico, a family of three. a family he always wanted.

he wanted to kiss you in front of the cameras. even if you were retired, he wanted to make you feel that every winning was for both of you. he kissed at you heated skin and you moaned, he felt the warmth of love in his gut. you two should've been married by now, a house somewhere quiet. it didn't even have to be in monaco. max would happily pack up his racing sim gear and his cats, and move to anywhere you desired. he hoped that you two could be a family.

to come home after a triple header and see you and nico. the boy looked so much like him. those round cheeks, those wide eyes. the excitement on the track and his need to be close to his mother (you). it screamed a young max, but max wanted to be a better father. he wanted to be present, he wanted to be there for his son.

he groaned, "please, please. let me into your little family." he kissed as your larger breasts and moved against you. the pleasure was deep inside of him. to have you once more felt like a dream.

you held onto his short hair for a moment, you groaned a little bit as you felt the immense heat between you two. you leaned down and kissed him on the head with such tenderness. this wasn't the kind of sex you had all that time ago, this was something more softer. more gentle. less like a means to an end, and more like you two were becoming familiar with each other's bodies again.

"you look perfect," he said lowly, "i'm surprised you hadn't picked uo a husband after all the time." he held on a little tighter and worked your body against him. the pleasure shot through the both of you which only spurred you on the move faster.

your bucked your hips against his, you felt the inferno in your belly as you held his face and kissed him once more. if he wanted to be in nico's life then you'd allow it. you'd let max be involved, be the father he wanted to be. you thought his trophies were more important, but seeing him, his eagerness to be in nico's life made you realize that he wanted a family, a home. you kissed him once more as the two of you thrusted against one another.

you knew racing would always pull you back in eventually. it had that effect on people. it was infectious, even tucked away in your domestic life. you still sat on the couch with your rambunctious toddler and watched the races at odd hours.

"why do you want a life with me and nico, you could have any-"

"i don't want to hear it. nico deserves a father and you deserve a loving partner... hell, maybe even a husband." he said with total conviction as he moved against you. the pleasure felt like it was going to boil over soon.

you moved against him, eagerness in your movements. you couldn't think of anymore things to prevent max from being part of your family. your movements staggered and you felt the pleasure bloom into something more. you hissed, "fuck," while you moved against him. you felt the inferno in your soul, the need for him in ways you didn't need any other man.

this was the father of your son, and you carried feelings for him just as you carried nico. the combination of you two, the affection you had for one another in a brief moment. it was something you wanted to expand on. you wanted to love max verstappen.

you held onto the father of your child. you came around his cock and arched your back. you felt the fury of lust through your body as you moved against him. you laid a heavy kiss on his lips as your pussy clenched around his cock, "fuck." you said, words muffled by the kiss. max wrapped his strong arms around you and moved against you further. you felt his cock nudge against some of your softest areas and it made you toes curl through climax.

he groaned into the kiss and continued to move against you. a few more heavy strokes and he finished inside of you. he practically melted against you and you smiled against his lips with affection. his brain felt swamped with emotion as he said, "i love you."

and without thinking you replied, "i love you too, max." then kissed him once more with total affection for one another.

max swallowed as he held you as you slowed your pace to a stop. he craned his neck to press his cheek against your soft stomach, "don't leave again... please."

"max." you panted and combed your fingers through his hair. he held onto you tighter as if you were going to slip away.

he said, in a tone you never thought you could hear from a world champion, "don't.. don't leave." this was supposed to be simple. max was a means to a child, but he wanted to be in nico's life. he wanted to be a father.

you wrapped your arms around him and held him close to your abdomen. you exhaled deeply and said, "i don't want to pressure you into being a father... if you're going to be in his life, you're going all in. he needs stability."

max lifted his head to look at you. those blue eyes dazzled in the low light of his hotel room. he held onto you a little tighter, not enough to bruise however. he said, "i'm all in. you, me, and nico." like a promise.

maybe it was the post-orgasm hormones or maybe because you became a tad more in touch with your emotions after having a child. but when max said that, you cried.

-

"go nico! go, go!!!" you shouted as your nine year old sailed past the finish line in first place and you broke into a grin. your husband wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close into a kiss. you laughed into the kiss and said to your husband, "oh man. ow, ow. okay, okay!" you looked down at your swollen middle, "someone isn't happy about the excitement."

"sorry there, little one." max's hand rubbed your swollen middle. his wedding band gleamed in the afternoon light. you were welcoming a son in four months and could already feel the commotion of racing.

you smiled at max for a moment before your son got out of the cart and you were moving as fast as you could to greet him. with his helmet off, you cupped your son's chubby cheeks. he was looking more like max every day, but smashed records the way you did.

you were soon a family of four. you didn't live in your home country and max had moved away from monaco when you got married. max was a good father, as he picked up nico with ease.

"you did amazing, nico. good job!" he beamed at the little boy and the boy beamed back at him. you knew that people shouldn't have children to heal a part of themselves. you learned that when you were pregnant the first time. but when max gave praise to your son, he was giving the young boy the support he never got. that if nico was going to eventually end up in formula one, it wasn't going to be the way that max was brought up.

he'd do it right.

stern when he needed to be. you'd both push nico to be the best, but also give him the love a wide-eyed, chubby cheeked boy needed. and as you leaned down as best as you could to kiss your son on the cheek. you felt like a family. it felt like home.

you were confident that you could've raised both nico and your future son by yourself. but it was an adventure you'd rather share with max. <3

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

beautiful mess | f. odair

masterlist

summary: finnick knows exactly how to comfort you in a moment of insecurity.

pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader

warnings: established relationship, menstruation, fluff, boyfriend!finnick being a cutie patootie, angst, mild hurt/comfort, insecurity, a little overdramatic but it’s cute idc

notes: about to get my period so this is kind of self-indulgent lmao. the number of times I rewrote this is insane. i hope i didn’t disappoint <3

“You know, I think I could pull off one of those long wizard beards,” Finnick said, admiring himself in the bathroom mirror as he shaved down the slight stubble on his jaw. “Those ones that go down to your chest? I could decorate it with little seashells and twine. It’d look hot, don’t you think?”

His playful words didn’t register in your mind.

Frustrated tears threatened to spill as the hairbrush in your hand tugged harshly at the roots of your hair. Nausea was bubbling in your stomach as you stared at your reflection, feeling as though not a single human being in history had ever looked as ugly as you did right now.

“Sweetheart?”

Here you were standing next to a Greek god, meanwhile, your skin was all hot and blotchy, your hair was a tangled mess, and your stomach was aching something awful. Christ, you hated being on your period.

A hard lump was lodged in your throat; you tried to swallow it, but there was no use. Warm tears had already begun to stream down your cheeks. Unable to bear the sight of yourself any longer, you turned away from the mirror. As you reached for the bathroom door handle, a sharp unexpected cramp pierced at your insides, causing your legs to buckle and collapse to the cold tiled floor.

That was the last straw. You just couldn’t hold it in anymore. A disharmony of cries burst from your lips, reverberating around the small room as your shuddering body folded over itself. Curse the Fates for having you been born a girl.

Finnick, now switched to panic mode, quickly dropped to his knees before you, eyes wide and alert.

“Hey, hey!” he said soothingly as his hand moved to rub your back in support, though he wasn’t even sure what he was supporting.

A thousand-and-one distressing thoughts flew through his mind. Had someone died? Were you injured? Were you dying? Obviously, these ideas were a little irrational considering you were just standing next to him a second ago. But seeing the love of his life in pain and not knowing why made him fear the absolute worst.

“Baby, what happened? What’s wrong?”

All you could do was sob in response. You felt pathetic. Stupid, ugly, and pathetic. “How can you—” Another sob left your lips— “stand to look at me?!”

You could feel his hand stop moving which, illogically, made you even more upset.

“What?” he asked quietly. “What do you mean ‘stand to look at you’? Please, sweetheart. Talk to me.”

Finally, you forced yourself to sit up, revealing the tears that streaked your distraught expression. Finnick’s brows scrunched together, almost like he was in pain watching you in such a state of disarray. He tried to think of anything he might’ve done to make you feel this way because, of course, the first thing Finnick Odair would do was blame himself. But nothing came to mind.

Your heavy heart sank—he looked so worried. A part of your brain knew you were overreacting. Justa little bit. It made you feel even more terrible, knowing he was panicked simply because you didn’t like how you looked. Nevertheless….

“I look so ugly!” you cried. “My hair is all knotted, my face is all red and gross, my stomach is cramping, and—and… I’m just a mess!” You buried your face in your hands. “Why are you even with me?”

Shock was an understatement compared to what Finnick felt when those words left your mouth. Never in a million years would he believe someone like you—someone who looked like you—could ever possibly be insecure about their appearance, and now, of all times.

He gently reached out and removed the hands that shielded your face. You attempted to turn away to conceal yourself in shame, in fear that if he got too close, he would discover your flaws and see you the way you saw yourself. But he caught your chin with a single finger and compelled you to meet his gaze.

Yes, your skin was a little red and your eyes were a little bloodshot, but that didn’t mean you looked ugly. In fact, your rosy cheeks glowed with such radiance that the teardrops falling from your crystalline eyes looked like shimmering diamonds. Your lips, which were slightly quivering, were reddened and plump—an alluring contrast to the hue of your skin.

Not that he would say it given the insensitivity and selfishness of admitting such a thought, but he believed you cried quite beautifully.

“Because I don’t think you’re a mess,” Finnick said softly, ironically tucking multiple disordered strands of hair behind your ear. “You’re human, and you don’t need to look or feel perfect all the time. That’s why you’ve got me—I’ll always think the most of you. And when you’re feeling this way, I’ll always remind you so too.”

You tried to allow his compassionate words to seep into your brain, tried to turn his beliefs into your own. However, the storm of emotions inside your mind was refusing to dissipate. The insecurities just wouldn’t subside and Finnick could see it in your glossy eyes.

“Listen to me,” he said, his thumb brushing away a tear that fell across your skin. “Waking up and seeing your gorgeous face next to mine? That’s what gives me the strength to get up every morning. Those imperfections you’re so adamant about? They only make me love you so much more.

I love every part of you. Every so-called flaw, every tangled strand of hair on that pretty little head of yours.” He grinned as he consolingly ran his fingers through your hair which, in his opinion, was perfectly soft and smooth. “You’re my girl and nothing will ever make me want it any other way.”

Hearing his declaration had your heart aching in your chest. Your hand curled around his arm, needing some physical anchor to the reassuring words he spoke. There was nothing but sincerity in his voice, a sure-fire sign that he was telling the truth.

You realised you never had to worry about Finnick finding you unattractive. Though you were a little worried he was partially blind which, unfortunately, represented your own seemingly unshakeable insecurities.

“I wish I could see myself the way you do,” you whispered, voice hoarse from crying.

“I know,” he sighed. “I know, but just give it time. One day you’ll look back and wonder what the hell you were thinking. I mean, you? Ugly? Sweetheart, we might need to get you some glasses.”

You sniffled, lips stretching into a wobbly smile. “You’re an idiot.”

He lifted your hands to his lips, kissing your knuckles. “Only for you,” he quipped in response, wearing a light-hearted smirk on his lips. “Come here.”

He opened his arms, beckoning you to seek solace in his embrace. You scooted closer, sinking into his broad chest as his arms enveloped you. Your legs were folded awkwardly beneath your body and Finnick’s back ached from the lack of support behind him, but neither of you seemed to mind.

What is love without a little suffering?

His hand stroked the length of your hair, curling random strands between his fingers in admiration. Your fingertips danced across his tanned skin, amorously tracing the words ‘I love you’ over and over. You weren’t sure if he even noticed; it didn’t really matter. The sentiment remained true.

You listened to his heart beating centimetres from your ear. Thump. Thump. Thump. And you were grateful it beat for you. You were so, so grateful for Finnick. For his strong arms that soothed you in their embrace. For his lips that released a swarm of butterflies in your stomach with just a quirk of their corners. For his voice that could lift you from the deepest, darkest pit at any given moment.

So, when you whispered, “Thank you,” it was much more than a show of appreciation for his words of reassurance. It was gratitude for his existence. His entire being. For his love which echoed your own.

“Always,” he whispered in return.

Time began to pass but you remained in the same position—holding each other closely, dearly. And then as more minutes passed, rationality began to set in. You were thinking about apologising for your dramatics, but Finnick had other ideas.

“Wait, did you say your stomach’s cramping?” he asked suddenly. You simply nodded. “Are you on your period?”

Your head turned to bury your face against his chest in embarrassment. “Yes,” your voice muffled into his shirt.

Finnick grinned to himself. He didn’t want to play the stereotype card but knowing that detail helped him understand your actions a little better now.

“Well,” he began, gently coaxing you away from his chest so he could look into your eyes. “How about you come sit with me in the kitchen, hm?” He caressed the line of your cheekbone as he spoke. “I’ll cook you some pancakes and then we can both melt into the couch all day. Does that sound good?”

You pretended to think about it for a moment, the hint of a smile tugging at your lips. “Chocolate chip pancakes?”

He made some noise between a chuckle and a scoff. “Of course. Anything else would be a culinary tragedy.”

“Oh, Finnick Odair,” you proclaimed theatrically, winding your arms around his neck as you pulled yourself further against him. “How I love you so.”

In response, his face lit up with a stupidly lovesick grin. This man will be the absolute death of me, you silently swore. You couldn’t help but lean in and press a soft endearing kiss to each dimple that hollowed his cheeks; doing so only made his smile stretch impossibly wider.

The touch of his deft fingertips settled on the sides of your cheeks, holding your face in his hands like it was his most prized possession—technically, you were. His smile never disappeared as he leaned forward, kissing you with such ardent affection that you were afraid your heart might give out from the consuming potency of his adoration.

It tasted like salt, your tears having now dried on your lips. More importantly, it tasted like love. Warm, sweet, syrupy love.

You pulled away, murmuring against his lips, “You would look hot with a wizard beard, by the way."

He chuckled lightly, sustaining the five-second break before returning to your lips to whisper the words, “I knew it.”

[maxlarens]

hi lilli! i love your fics sm, so could i possibly request oscar + brushing a strand of hair away with maybe best friend reader? tysm queen 🙏

joyce!! thank you!!! sorry it took me more than a month to do this. i sat down today to write ANOTHER george drabble and then decided no. i have to write something for oscar. it has been far too long and i miss him and he deserves it. i did this with roommate!reader which i think fits the same vibe!?

“Hey. How you feeling?”, Oscar asks, his head sticking in through the gap in your doorway, hair lit like a halo.

You groan, turning over in bed so you’re not facing the hallway light streaming into the room. You wrangle a hand out from under your sheets, gesture for him to come inside and then shove your face back into the sweaty pillow.

“Close the door,” you add.

Oscar laughs quietly, “Bad. I take it.”

You make a mocking noise, then pat the empty side of the bed for him to sit on. Hopeful that he'll take you up on your offer, despite your apparent contagion.

“Terrible.”

You feel the bed dip as he shuffles to sit next to you. His knees pressing gently into your back from where he's sitting cross-legged. He makes a halfway sympathetic noise, then you feel his hand on your shoulder. He pats you awkwardly, in that way he is wont to do— you can't tell if he thinks you're going to give him this cold you've got, or if he's just being weird about touching you again.

Which is funny, considering.

Considering the lines you've been crossing recently.

Kissing him on the cheek when he leaves or arrives home, cuddling on the couch all the time, standing hip-to-hip in the kitchen while making dinner. Sleeping in each other's beds. But not last night, not with this flu you've got. Part of you had wanted him here, but you'd still refused when he offered.

You'd hate to get him sick with his race coming up. Or, more likely, you hate to keep living in this delusion that you know isn't real.

Yet, here he is. Checking on you first thing in the morning, crawling into your bed like it's normal. Like he belongs there.

"Poor thing," he says absently, running his fingers down your arm.

You turn to face him, body aching and your head pounding a rhythm into your skull. He looks down at you, lips pursed in a tight frown, hair a mess, t-shirt askew like he'd not even adjusted it before checking in on you. Newsflash: He hadn't.

You feel dizzy, from being ill, from his proximity. You're not sure.

He reaches forward, bringing the blankets up under your chin, then in a rare moment of hesitation he reaches to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. It vaguely damp there, a little cold, but your skin burns where he'd brushed the shell of your ear.

"Need anything?", he asks, blinking, face as unreadable as ever.

You shake your head, but think: just you.

just a short one for all the sick girlies out there!

[stevie-petey]

oh, you didn't know?

“I was told there’d be cookies.” Dustin interrupted, flashing Steve another smug grin that made the teen want to shove him into a snowbank.  “Yeah, for her.” Steve pointed at you. “Not for you.”

Summary: steve is pathetically in love with you and for some reason the universe hates him and continues to pray on his downfall. typical.

Rating: general, some swearing

Warnings: swearing, fem!reader, use of y/n

Words: 1.6k

Before you swing in: happy valentines day my loves <333 youre all my valentines, i didnt make the rules. anyways, pls enjoy this cute cheesy fic. dont ask how i thought of this: i simply do not know. however, its pathetic!loverboy!steve and i think we ALL deserve that today smh.

-

Steve has never had the best timing. 

When he first manned up to ask you out, it had coincidentally been the same day your childhood dog died. 

There he had been, flowers in hand and a proud smile on his face when he knocked on your front door, completely taken aback when you answered with tears streaming down your face. 

Immediately, Steve’s smile had dropped and he quickly pulled you close to inspect for any injuries or pain. “Y/N? What happened, is everything okay?”

“My dog died.” You wailed, even more tears spilling over. 

“Oh my god–”

“He… He didn’t suffer. He was old and–” You had sniffed, looking so small and frail in your heartbreak, before spotting the flowers in Steve’s hand. You gasped. “H–How did you know?”

Steve had been confused for a moment, but when he followed your gaze to the flowers that were originally meant to be “please be my girlfriend” flowers, his heart dropped. 

Well fuck. 

“Yes…” He cleared his throat. “I, uh. Had a hunch?”

You threw your arms around Steve, the flowers then crushed between you two, but he hadn't paid any attention to them as he wrapped his arms tightly around you. After a few seconds, you placed your lips by his ear and whispered, “You’re the sweetest.”

The sincerity in your voice had made Steve want to vomit. 

He hadn’t had a hunch that your childhood dog would die that day, but what else was he supposed to say? Hey, sorry your dog died, do you want to kiss now? Absolutely not. 

Steve is many things, and oftentimes he is an idiot, but he isn’t that much of an idiot.

So, instead of asking you to be his girlfriend, Steve had instead spent the next three hours at your house as he consoled you and watched your favorite movie to cheer you up. While it hadn’t been his ideal outcome, Steve had still been happy to simply spend time with you. Besides, you had needed him at that moment, so of course Steve was right there by your side. 

Life moved on, a few weeks passed, and eventually Steve decided to try again. 

You had no more animals to possibly lose, Christmas was approaching, and Steve was determined that this time he’d be able to ask you out. 

After buying you some chocolate and planning a fort building night on Christmas Eve, Steve had been sure that the night would go perfectly. There was a beautiful rose pendant bracelet sitting atop of his dresser in his room, wrapped and ready for you to open. 

Steve’s plan was foolproof. 

Build a fort, watch a cheesy Christmas movie, bake some cookies and drink hot chocolate, and then boom: Steve would ask you to be his girlfriend. 

However, Steve really should’ve known better. 

His parents had left that day and he had spent the entire time cleaning the house and preparing all the snacks before your arrival. At six on the dot, his doorbell rang and Steve eagerly ran over to answer the door. 

There, standing on his front doorstep, had been you with a smug looking Dustin Henderson.

“What’s the kid doing here?” Steve had asked, all his hope now coming crashing down upon him. 

You winced. “I know we made plans, I’m so sorry, but his mom asked me to babysit him and she offered me the rest of the money I need for your Christmas gift and–”

“I was told there’d be cookies.” Dustin interrupted, flashing Steve another smug grin that made the teen want to shove him into a snowbank. 

“Yeah, for her.” Steve pointed at you. “Not for you.”

“Stevie, I promise I’ll make it up to you later.” You groaned at him, and Steve knew you hated disappointing him. “Can we please just come inside? It’s cold and I was really excited for the fort.”

There are many times when Steve wonders just how he manages to get himself into obscure situations. That night, when he had Dustin Henderson wedged between you and him underneath a super romantic and cute fort that he had spent hours building, had been one of those times where Steve questioned his entire life. 

At that point, Steve was starting to wonder if he’d ever manage to ask you out in the first place. 

A few more weeks passed after that and you were still his best friend and nothing had changed between you two, but now Steve found himself constantly biting his tongue around you. He was so fucking in love with you, he had been for years, but after two failed attempts of confessing his feelings: it was becoming impossible to hold them in. 

Then, late January, your birthday came along. 

This time, Steve was sure that he had it all figured out.

You had wanted to grab some dinner at the local diner you loved, and Steve thought that a small, toned down proposal to date would be perfect. He’d give you your birthday gift (a matching set of earrings for the rose bracelet you now wore every day), he’d order you the strawberry shortcake you adored, and when you weren’t looking, Steve would ask the waitress to write “happy birthday, my love” on the cake. 

Steve was a goddamn romantic genius, honestly. 

Except that isn’t what happened. 

What actually ended up happening was the waitress somehow hearing “my love” as “Milo” and Steve had wanted to bash his fucking skull in. 

“Who’s ‘Milo’?” You had asked once the cake came out, confusion evident on your face. 

Steve, now used to nothing ever working out in his favor, had simply sighed and said, “Who knows, man. Just eat your cake.”

You had giggled, and the sound was enough to cheer Steve up a bit. Sure, it was looking more and more like the world didn’t want you with him, but at least he got to hear your laugh and admire the way your eyes shined whenever you looked at him. 

Now, a few weeks later, it’s Valentine’s Day and Steve is terrified that he will somehow set your house on fire with his horrible luck. 

He has spent the last two months trying to ask you out. Now, on the day of love itself, Steve is almost too terrified to even approach you. At the rate he’s going, if he tries to ask you out again, he’ll end up telling you he hates you or something. 

He’s miserable. 

Which is how he finds himself once again outside your door, except there’s no flowers in his hands, and he knocks. 

You guys haven’t made any plans tonight, but it’s Valentine’s Day and Steve is so in love with you that it hurts. 

The second his knuckles leave the door, you swing the door wide open and jump into his arms. “Stevie!”

Surprised by such an affectionate reaction, Steve almost falls into the bushes in front of your house. “Woah, hey!”

He steadies the two of you and you simply squeeze him tighter and giggle. You’re in an exceptionally good mood, almost too good of a mood, and Steve’s hands are sweating. He hadn’t exactly come here with a game plan in mind. 

“Happy to see me, I take it?” He mumbles into your ear. 

“Duh,” you press a kiss to his cheek. “It’s Valentine’s Day, why wouldn’t I be excited to see my boyfriend?”

This time, Steve actually does fall into the bush behind him. 

“Oh my god,” you run over and quickly try to help the boy up, but Steve is staring up at the night sky, overcome with pure shock and fear. “Stevie? Steve!”

Steve lays there, motionless as you continue to tug at his jacket. “How long have I been your boyfriend, Y/N?”

At his question, you stop tugging and look at him, confused. “I don’t know, honestly. How long has it been since the fourth of July?”

“The fourth?” Steve sputters. “Y/N, it’s Valentine’s Day and I’m just now finding out you’re my girlfriend?”

“Oh, you didn’t know?”

“No!” Steve finally scrambles out of the bushes and grabs your face with his hands. He feels insane, his hands are shaking a bit as he holds onto you. “When did this happen?”

You scrunch your eyebrows together. “On the fourth. We saw the fireworks, cuddled on the picnic blanket you stole from your mom, you grabbed my hand, and then told me you never wanted this to end. I just… I assumed you meant our relationship?”

Steve blinks. “You… You are the love of my life, Y/N L/N.”

“Well, I’d hope so–” Suddenly Steve’s lips are against yours and he’s kissing you with everything he has within him. All those months of pining after you, all the times he’s failed in asking you to be his, and this entire time you had somehow been his all along. 

God, he is so stupidly in love with you. 

He nips at your bottom lip and you make a sound that’s so soft and sweet in the back of your throat that has Steve’s head spinning. He nips again, revels in the breathy sigh you release against his lips, and Steve’s hand tugs harshly against your waist. 

The kiss is perfect and everything he’s ever dreamed of. 

Then, a thought occurs to Steve. 

“Wait a minute,” he breaks the kiss and your love drunk expression almost makes him groan. He tells himself to focus, even though it’s incredibly difficult to do so. “If we’ve been supposedly dating since July, didn’t you wonder why I hadn’t kissed you yet?”

“Oh, I just thought you were shy.” You shrug, as if it’s no big deal. Then, with a teasing smile, you add, “And I guess I love you too.”

Steve decides, then and there, that you will be the death of him.

And he couldn’t be any happier as he pulls you in again for another bruising kiss. 

Afterall, Steve has about seven months to make up for lost time. 

-

⌑ writing masterlist

[pickingupmymercedes]

It was bound to come out - Lewis Hamilton NSFW

Part 2. - A Wolff Cage

request: "Can we get Toto finding out that his daughter is dating Lewis, but in the worst way possible? Maybe he catches them together in a compromising position yk. I love your smuts, so I'll leave it to you" - Anon

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Wolff!reader

warnings: unprotected sexual activities.

Wrap it before you tap it guys

wordcount: +2K

a/n: My mind ran with this one and everything you asked is there, but with a twist. Hope you enjoy it and sorry for taking a bit ❤️

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

EXPLICIT CONTENT UNDER, -18 DO NOT INTERACT

______________________________________________________________

Y/n groaned loudly as the sunlight streamed through a sliver of the blinds, her head pounding and her stomach turning from the aftermath of the night before.

She reached for her phone, squinting at the bright screen in the somewhat dark room.

Her eyes widened in horror as she saw the barrage of missed calls and messages. Her father, had called multiple times, along with Susie and her own mother.

A sinking feeling settled in her stomach as she tried to piece together what could’ve cause all that.

Lewis stirred next to her, yawning and stretching his arms. "Morning, beautiful" he murmured, pulling her closer. Y/n barely registered his warmth, her mind racing as the fog of the night began to clear.

And then it hit her—a wave of cold, hard realization.

She had gone into a fit of bravery. An urge to stop hiding from the world. To shout at all the corners of the world, like a schoolgirl, that she was in love with the one and only Lewis Hamilton. And that he loved her back.

Her eyes darted back to her phone, the messages from her dad glaring at her like an impending doom.

"Oh my god," she muttered, sitting up abruptly. "Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!" Lewis blinked, now fully awake, and sat up beside her.

"What's going on?" he asked, his voice still groggy with sleep.

"I've just outed us in the worst possible way!" Y/n exclaimed, her voice a mix of panic and disbelief. She ran a hand through her hair, her eyes wide with horror. "I accidentally sent the video to my dad! My dad, Lewis! Toto freaking Wolff!"

Lewis stared at her for a moment, processing her words. Then, a slow grin spread across his face, followed by a chuckle. "You're joking, right?"

"I'm not joking!" she shot back, her voice climbing a few octaves. "Do I look like I'm joking? This is not a joke! My father has seen a video of us... the one video that couldn’t leave my phone!"

Lewis leaned back against the headboard, an amused glint in his eyes. "Well, at least now he knows" he said, shrugging with amusement dancing in his features.

Y/n stared at him, incredulous. "That's your takeaway from this? Lewis, this is a disaster! Why did I do that? And now my dad seen that... and Susie... and my mom!"

Lewis wrapped an arm around her, pulling her into his side. "Hey, it's going to be okay" he said, trying to soothe her. "It's not the end of the world."

"Not the end of the world?" Y/n echoed, looking up at him with wide eyes. "Lewis, we just went public in the most embarrassing way possible! My dad is going to kill me. No, worse, he's going to kill you!"

Lewis chuckled again, clearly more amused by the situation than she was. "Love, it’s done now. Please breath." he said confidently. "Besides, I think I can handle Toto and from what I know, so can you."

Y/n buried her face in her hands, groaning. "This is so bad. So, so bad."

Lewis gently pulled her hands away, lifting her chin so she looked at him. "Y/n, it's going to be okay," he repeated, his voice soft. "We'll figure this out. And honestly, it was bound to come out eventually. Just, maybe not like this," he admitted with a chuckle, "but still."

Y/n sighed, leaning her head against his shoulder. "I can't believe this is happening," she muttered.

Lewis kissed the top of her head, rubbing soothing circles on her back. "It'll be fine," he assured her. "We'll talk to them, explain everything. And who knows, maybe they'll be happy for us."

Y/n gave him a skeptical look. "Yeah, happy that their daughter and one of the most high-profile drivers in F1 decided to announce their relationship via accidental sex video"

Lewis grinned. "Trendsetters," he joked. "They can’t complain we’re not being transparent"

Y/n couldn't help but laugh, despite the situation. "You're a menace" she said, shaking her head and unlocking her phone, finally opening the first few messages, one from Susie catching her eye.

"As much as I’m shocked, I hope those ‘I love you’ were for real. Lewis is always welcomed with us. We’ll deal with your father, don’t worry."

A small, involuntary giggle escaped her lips. In the midst of the chaos at least someone had a sense of humor.

It was raw. As raw as a homemade sex video usually is.

None of their faces was truly visible. But his tattoos, the known birth mark on her back and their voices could be distinguished by anyone.

It started with Y/n adjusting the camera to the side of the scene, Lewis asking her if she was going to make him wait much longer as one of his hands pumped his already rock-hard dick.

He was spread out on a leather coach, wearing only a simple white t-shirt, while Y/n had a black thong and her breasts out for him to catch as she giggled her way back to his lap.

The video focusing as she climbed on him, her back to the camera. Laughs and some talk could be heard coming from them.

One of his hands held her by her waist, bringing her close to him as she leaned down to kiss him, his other hand cupped at her breast. Their moans as they kissed crystal clear in the video.

Then she breaks the kiss, adjusts her legs on top of his as he places her thong to one side of her ass, she reaches for his dick and aligns it to her core. Lewis asks “You good?” and she nods to him.

She drags his length onto her folds a few times and then sinks down, his hand on her waist grasping at her skin, her breathing visibly getting heavier and their moans filling the air.

As Y/n settles down onto Lewis the camera captures the way her back arches, the subtle movements of her muscles under her skin, and the way his hands explore her body with a familiarity that speaks of how intimate their relationship was.

Lewis lets out a low groan, his head tipping back against the couch, some of his loose braids now visible. Y/n starts to move, her hips rocking in a slow, teasing rhythm.

Lewis's hands travel from her waist to her hips, setting a steady pace and guiding her, and she leans forward, her breasts pressing against his chest.

Their breaths are heavy as their movements increase speed.

The sound of skin against skin mixes with their gasps and whispers, turning the video into an erotic symphony.

Lewis murmurs something unintelligible, probably a praise as his voice is husky with desire. Y/n responds with a breathy laugh, her fingers tangling in his scalp as she pulls him into another heated kiss.

As the camera continues to record, Y/n's movements become more urgent, her moans rising in pitch. Lewis's grip on her hips tightens, his own movements becoming more forceful, meeting her thrust for thrust.

Lewis whispers her name and praises time and time again. "Look at you," he groaned at some point, his hands gripping her harder, guiding her movements. "Taking me so well."

Y/n pulls back slightly. She cups his face with one hand, brushing her thumb over his lips before leaning down to kiss him again, softer this time, more tender.

The video captures the moment Lewis’s breath hitch in his throat, Y/n laughs as she adjusts her posture, she scoops his face in her hands and sits on his lap. His dick still fully inside her “I’m nowhere close, Sir.”   

Y/n's playful taunt lingered in the air, challenging Lewis with a swing of her hips. He responds with a low chuckle, the sound resonant, vibrating through the video. The camera captured his hands as they slide from her waist to her hips, holding her steady.

"Oh, is that so?" he murmurs, his voice a rich amusement.

He takes a deep breath, his chest rising and falling as he controls his breathing. His lips find the curve of her neck, planting slow, deliberate kisses that make Y/n shiver.

The camera picks up on the subtle shifts in their bodies, showing the intimate dance between them. His hands trace the contours of her body, from the curve of her waist to the swell of her breasts, as he slows the pace, savoring every touch.

With a controlled grace, Lewis lifts Y/n off his lap. He stands, holding her effortlessly, her legs wrapped around his waist, her back arched as she clings to him. He lowers her onto the couch, the leather cool against her skin.

The camera captures the moment she lands, her head just out of frame, leaving only the sight of her body from the shoulders down and him hovering over her.

Lewis kneels in front of her, spreading her legs apart with deliberate care, positioning one leg to the side and the other wide open. The camera zooms in, focusing on her fully exposed core, her arousal glistening in the soft light.

"Look at you," he murmurs, his voice husky with lust. "So ready for me." His hand glides up her inner thigh, caressing the sensitive skin, his fingers barely grazing her flesh. He teases her clit with the tip of his cock, eliciting a shiver from Y/n.

"Is this what you wanted, love?" he asks, his voice low with seduction. "To be laid out and taken like this? For me to make you beg?" His words are accompanied by the slow, teasing movements of his hips, the head of his cock barely brushing against her entrance.

Y/n's breathing grows ragged, her body arching towards him, desperate for more. "Yeah" she breathes, her voice a soft plea. "Please... I need you."

"You’re so beautiful when you're needy," he whispers, his voice a dark, intimate confession. He watches her, his fingers now tracing circles on her swollen bud. Her moans become louder, her hands gripping the couch cushions as she writhes beneath him.

Lewis leans in, his breath hot against her ear. "I'm going to make you feel so good," he murmurs, his voice a promise. "Every inch of me, love. You're going to remember this."

As her moans continued, Lewis waits for the perfect moment. Her head tilts back, exposing the delicate line of her throat.

In one swift, powerful motion, he thrusts into her, burying himself to the hilt. Y/n gasps hard, her body jerking in response, her back arching off the couch. The camera captures the force of the movement, the way her body reacted and then how she melted around him, her hands flying to clutch at his arms.

"That's it" Lewis growls, his voice rough with desire. "Show me how much you want this." He leans back, his hands gripping her hips as he sets a relentless rhythm.

His thrusts are slow, but deep and powerful, each one punctuated by a low grunt of pleasure from him.

Y/n's moans mix with his, the sound a symphony of pleasure and surrender. She wraps her legs around his waist, her heels digging into his lower back as she meets his thrusts. "Gosh" she gasps, her voice breathless. "Don't stop... please, don't stop."

Lewis leans down, his lips brushing against her ear. "I'm not stopping," he murmurs, his voice a dark promise. "Not until I've made you come, love. Not until I've felt you shatter around me."

He shifts his angle slightly, hitting a spot that makes Y/n cry out, her nails digging into his shoulders. Her body responds instinctively, her hips bucking against him, seeking more.

Lewis's hands slide up her body, one hand cupping her breast, the other tangling in her hair as he pulls her into a heated kiss.

Their kisses are messy, desperate. Y/n pulls back, her head falling back on the couch, her mouth open in a silent cry. "I’m gonna ... I'm so close," she whimpers, her body trembling.

Lewis growls, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he feels her tightening around him. "Come for me" he demands, his voice a harsh whisper. "I want to feel you, Y/n. Let go for me."

With a final thrust, Y/n's body goes rigid, her body trembling around Lewis. She cried out, her nails raking down his back, her breathing shaken. Lewis follows less than a minute later, Y/n still out of breath as his own orgasm tore through him as he buried himself deep inside her.

Lewis collapsed onto her, his head resting on her chest, his hands still gripping her hips. Y/n wrapping her arms around him, holding him close.

The camera records their quiet afterglow, the only sounds their slowing breaths and the occasional soft murmur. Lewis's hands continued to caress her, soothing and loving.

Lewis lifts his head, looking down at her with a soft smile. "You're incredible" he murmurs, his voice tender. "I love you."

Y/n smiles back, her eyes shining with emotion. "I love you" she whispers, her fingers brushing against his cheek. "Always."

Before the video cuts off to an end, it’s clear when his seed sneaks its way out of her as he lifts her body up a bit so he lies on the coach and brings her back to his chest, his lips coming to rest on top of her head.

______________________________________________________________

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[authorhjk1]

Dea Romana

(Minatozaki Sana X Male Reader)

(Author's note:

Hi everyone! Thank you for patiently waiting for me! I'm done with writing my exams now, so I will be able to write more again until Juli. Since I like history a lot, the beginning got a bit longer than originally planned, but I hope you will be able to enjoy it nonetheless. I tried to make everything as historically accurate as possible, but please don't expect everything to be true.

Stay healthy! I will do my best to upload the next piece as soon as possible!)

Every muscle feels like it's burning. Your legs and arms feel heavy. Your feet barely lift off the uneven ground with every step you take.

Dried blood stains your face. Your armour doesn't look much better. The shield you are holding, has a big dent in it. The javelin in your right hand feels like it's made out of steel. The chainmail on your chest weighs heavier than usual.

"Marius!"

Your second in command shouts at you from the back.

"The women need a break!"

You sigh in annoyance. It's bad enough that you almost got your whole century killed. Now you have to delay your reunion with the rest of the legion because of those Gaul captives.

"We will take a short break."

You announce to your eighty legionaries and the twenty rebels you captured.

Spotting a small stream near by, you walk closer, while most of the soldiers sit on the ground, some are standing guard.

Taking off your helmet, you start to wash your face. The dried blood sticks to your skin. After some effort, you are just a little bit cleaner.

Another sigh leaves your lips as you kneel in place. In front of the small stream, your century in the back, looking into the deep forest.

You have lived a hard life. You were not born a Roman. Not born a free man. But you took your life into your own hands, instead of hoping for the mercy of the gods. Because gods don't have mercy. Only you can change your own destiny.

"Let's keep marching. We are almost there."

You go back to the front of the century, your men following your orders. Most of the Gaul rebels you captured are women and children. Their husbands and fathers killed by your swords and javelins.

Orders are orders. To kill or to be killed. These are the only two principles you live by. At least most of the time.

"Have you heard yet?"

Quintus asks from behind you, catching your attention. You silently wave for him to walk next to you. It's not necessarily the gossip you're interested in, but you did learn that it's important to know what is going on inside your century and the legion itself.

"Aelius fucked up some of his soldiers."

You raise your eyebrow while you keep walking. Nothing new there. Aelius is a spoiled son of a whore. He only became centurion in the tenth, because of his family's status. And he is usually unnecessarily brutal with his century.

"Reason?"

"They ate some of the extra rations we all got a week ago. Aelius said that they are meant for centurions only. Not for legionaries."

You have to stop yourself from spitting onto the muddy path you are walking on.

Aelius paints the perfect picture of the Roman nobility. Rich assholes. Nothing more. Nothing less.

"Did he kill someone again?"

Quintus shakes his head.

"But I heard that the premus pilus had a talk with him."

You let out a dry chuckle.

"All the centurions of the first cohort are the same. Do you really think he got in trouble?"

"No. But I thought you would be interested. It's not like you have very good connections with-"

"Shut it, fool."

It's not really a secret in the tenth legion that you and Aelius are bitter rivals. The two of you are the completely opposite of one another. A rich brat, who is the centurion of the third century in the first cohort. And you. The former slave, who climbed the ranks to be the centurion of the first century in the second cohort.

There aren't many ranks that separate the two of you. But making the jump into the first cohort as a former slave is nearly impossible.

Your century walks in almost complete silence for the next couple of hours. Despite being one of the most feared soldiers in the legion, you can't help but be cautious. In case there are more rebels lurking in the shadows of the large trees.

"Marius!"

The scout you send out to check the path ahead is jogging in your direction.

"We take another short break."

A light murmur of gratitude echoes through the ranks.

You wait for the young man, barely older than a boy, to reach the spot where you are standing.

"Someone seems to be traveling towards the camp. Our paths are going to cross, once we reach the small clearing ahead."

"Do you know who it is?"

"It looked like a person from the nobility. There was a carriage. And a couple of men with spears. Probably guards."

"We can't be too cautious. Titus!"

You shout for your second in command to walk to the front.

"Take your contubernia and make fast pace. I want to make sure that everything is going according to regulations."

"Yes, Marius."

The rest of the century starts marching at normal pace again, while the eight men rush ahead. The scout leading them towards the small crossroads.

"You know what's going on?"

You shake your head at Quintus' question.

"Might be a politician from Rome. Or a nobleman's wife."

"You know that that's against the law."

Of course everyone knows. It's illegal for a legionary to be married. And yet, some centurions always think that they are above the rest of the legion, when it comes to this kind of rules.

"What is the meaning of this?!"

An angry shout echoes around the forest, just as you and your men reach the small clearing.

The scout was right. A carriage, pulled by two grays, accompanied by a handful of men, armed with spears, and some servants.

An older woman is standing in front of the carriage's door, screaming at the poor Titus. Glancing over his shoulder, your optio rolls his eyes.

"Woman. Don't scream at a Roman legionary."

You make your presence known as you keep walking towards the middle of the clearing.

The servant, probably around forty to fifty years of age, looks at you with anger in her eyes.

"Do you even know, whom you are holding up?!"

"No."

You state bluntly, finally standing in front of her. Behind you, you can hear your men take their positions. Not to threaten the travelers, but to guard the area.

"Well, she is one of the most prestigious women in all of Rome."

"And what is a woman like her doing so far away from the city?"

"Visiting her husband."

You click your tongue. As far as you know, none of the centurions in the first cohort have wives. Which means, she must be the woman of a centurion, who ranks lower than you.

A smirk, which you can't suppress, plays around your lips. How are you able to enjoy a higher position than a noble in this republic?

You walk off without another word, leaving Titus in charge. There is no need to bother with this stuff. Some of the Gaul rebels fell a little behind earlier. You have to check on them. In case they are sick or badly injured.

"Her name?"

You hear Titus ask, before the woman let's out an exaggerated gasp.

"Sana Lucii."

You groan in annoyance. By Jupiter. Is this really his wife? Lucius Aelius? Just when you thought, you couldn't hate that man even more.

You despise men, who don't follow the law and rules of the republic and the legion. Of course, sometimes you can define them a little different for your own gains, but this is just breaking them.

Trying to stay calm, your fingers tap the pommel of your gladius. You don't hear a response from Titus. He must know which Lucius the old woman ment.

"Marius?"

He finally makes you turn around.

You walk back up towards the carriage, just as the door opens.

"By Bellona! What is taking so long!"

You have to say, you are amused by the woman's expression. You didn't expect her to call out for the goddess of war.

"Just doing our duty, lady."

Titus answers politely, although you know how hard it is for him to not lash out. He hates Aelius just as much as the next soldier. Especially, since he is your optio.

You are stunned, once the woman actually shows herself. Her beautiful face is slightly twisted with annoyance. Although, you would be sure that she could look like Venus herself, when she smiles.

She is wearing a turquoise stola, which also covers her brown hair. The thin material enables you to have a look at her white tunic underneath. Her skin looks flawless and pure. A golden necklace adorns her neck and collarbone. It's probably worth more than a whole year of your salary.

An image of a goddess.

"I hope we can speed up this process. I'm supposed to be by my husband's side."

Lucky bastard.

"Please. Speak respectfully with my legionaries."

Her gaze meets yours. You can feel your heart skipping a beat. Not one woman has looked as pretty as she does. Not one.

"Who are you to lecture me on speaking?"

"Salve."

Your fist meats the blood stained chainmail on your chest.

Maybe, if you behave respectfully, so does she. The army is for her protection after all.

"My name is Marius. And-"

"What's your first name, centurion?"

A cute smile suddenly plays around her lips. Maybe this will get her out of here faster.

"Gaius."

"I see, Gaius. I'm sure you have more important things to do than stop me from traveling further? My husband must be waiting for me."

If she didn't know better, Sana could swear that she caught a glint of hate in your eyes.

"This is protocol. We have to check on everyone, who approaches the camp."

"I'm a noble woman. Can't you make an exception for me?'

You don't fall for her sweet smile. You are on duty. Not even Venus herself could distract you. Well, maybe a little bit.

"Your choice. Here, or at the gate in front of even more legionaries. Like everyone else."

That last part makes her glare at you. You won this round.

Not waiting for a response, you gesture for your men to search the woman's belongings. Your Imperial legate has more than enough enemies in Rome to be cautious of. And you don't want him to end up dead inside his own camp. Even if she is allegedly Aelius' wife.

Quintus nods in your direction after going through her belongings, signaling that everything is alright.

"We will accompany you on your way to the camp. We are on our way back, anyway."

You turn around without looking at Sana again. A signal for your men to get into formation.

It feels like she stares at your back for a second longer, before you hear the door close behind you. You don't like the Roman nobility. At all. There is only one man you are willing to follow.

After two more hours of marching, your century and the noblewoman's entourage finally reach the camp's gate.

"The village, where the senior officers are staying, is right behind the camp. You can't miss it."

The older woman, who screamed at Titus earlier, still looks at you as if she is holding a grudge.

"I hope you enjoy your stay in these wonderful lands, lady."

You raise your voice a little, making sure that Sana can hear you. It drips with sarcasm and you can hear Quintus chuckle behind you.

"Vale."

With a dismissive wave of your hand, you walk past the old servant. Her shock at your rudeness visible on her face.

Already making your way past the guards, you can't hear Sana's scoff.

Who are you to talk to her like that? If she is gonna tell her husband about this, you are going to be in trouble for sure.

Sana will never be able to get used to this. She was able to decide that, immediately after she stepped out of her carriage. It took her only a couple of steps to enter the small house her husband is living in right now. But that was enough for her already.

Nothing here looks like Rome. Even the legionaries look out of place. And their shouts and the sounds of shields and stuff isn't what she hears when she is home. Sana is already missing the comfortable house with the atrium. She likes to bathe in the sun throughout the day, while sipping on a really good wine.

"You're late."

Lucius doesn't even look up from his small table as he hears his wife coming in.

"That's how you great me after a year?"

"You know how I value punctuality."

"Out of my hands. Some centurion insisted on searching my luggage. He was really rude."

Now Lucius is looking at her. Sana knows that he can't stand someone disrespecting him. And when she gets disrespected, it goes deeper. He is affected as well.

"Who?"

She can see his eyes becoming a little darker. He bites his lip, maybe trying to prevent himself from shouting.

"His name is Garius Marius. I think?"

"That son of a whore. How does a slave dare to stop you?"

Now, Sana feels shame run down her spine. If she knew that he was born a slave, she would've hit him for talking to her like that. No matter his rank, he is and will always be beneath her. Once a slave, always a slave.

"I swear to Jupiter. One day in battle, I will..."

Lucius takes a deep breath, before focusing back on his wife.

"We are eating dinner with the Imperial legate, the leader of these legions tomorrow, and the senior generals. I expect you to impress them."

"I'd be happy to, love."

Sana almost spits out that last word, but Lucius doesn't seem to notice. He sits back down, opening an envelope. She can see how his eyebrows are still furrowed. He won't let this incident pass without consequences.

Sana eventually leaves the house to explore the small town and it's market. Despite being married to Lucius, she can't stay around him for too long. She is only his wife, because of his money and connections. As soon as she can find someone better...

Sana feels a little dizzy as she steps out of the big house. Lucius told her to be on her best behavior. But that idiot was behaving the worst throughout the dinner.

She hated how calm and reserved the other centurion was, the man who stopped her. He was the lowest ranking soldier and yet, everyone listened to his advice and thoughts about future and past battles. And how is he on a first name basis with the imperial legate? And why is Lucius too incapable to enjoy the same treatment? How can he do worse than a slave?

Sana holds onto the wall, standing right next to the entrance. Suddenly, two men walk out the door. They don't see her because it's dark. She tries to find out who they are. The first one is a little taller, while the second has broader shoulders and looks more muscular.

"We can't do this forever, Gaius. We need a plan to wipe him out. I expect you to help me with that."

"Of course, Gaius."

Sana almost groans in annoyance. Of course it's that Gaius Marius. And the other one is the Imperial legate. Gaius Julius Caesar.

"Rome is an empire. We will defeat Vercingetorix sooner rather than later. His supporters will crumble soon."

"You did a good job today, centurion. You've proven once again, why you rightfully carry the name I gave you. Gaius Marius Antonius."

Sana assumes they are talking about some barbarian leader. But Caesar gave him that cognomen? She can't help but wonder what he must've done to be called "priceless".

"You know the political situation in Rome. The more time I waste conquering Gaul, the more powerful my enemies become."

"I swear to Mars. I will cut down anyone who tries to oppose you, Gaius."

She sees Caesar put a hand on the centurion's shoulder.

"It's only a matter of time, until you will be one of the Tribuni angusticlavii, leading the tenth legion into battle. And I will make sure, you will eventually become a rich senator."

Sana has heard enough. It's so disgusting to her. A slave becoming a senator. She is working so hard to become the most powerful woman in Rome. And with that in the whole empire. How can that lowlife become something better than she herself? Sana either needs to push Lucius further up the ranks, or she needs to find someone, who can match Marius' new found status.

Sana groans in relief, when she can finally leave the small village. It's not like someone forbid her to leave, but there just wasn't something to do in and outside the village. What was she gonna do in a forest? A very dangerous one at that?

But now, she heard of a big market place around two hours away. Sana is still looking to buy some oils and pottery. She could do that in Rome of course, but she is hoping to find them cheaper in their land of origin.

Looking out of her carriage, Sana leaves behind the village and the big camp right next to it. The constant noise made her head spin. Not that Rome isn't loud, but this is something else.

After about an hour, Sana hears a troop of men marching in front of her. She became familiar with that sound after a few days. She doesn't look outside, despite being curious. Why would a century be here? The battles would take place in the opposite direction. Right?

Sana hears how the carriage passes the back of the century. The heavy steps of the legionaries kick up some dust. Her old servant looks outside, curious herself.

"It's him again."

The older woman grimaces, before letting the curtain drop back into place.

"Who?"

"The man who stopped us a couple of days ago."

Sana's attention is now on the men outside. She remembers the conversation you had with Caesar.

"Really?"

She pretends to be cold, not wanting to get caught. After having seen you around a couple of times, the young noble woman is unsure on how to feel about you.

Yes, you are a former slave. A peasant. But you are also a great centurion. A trusted man to Julius Caesar.

Despite being not the highest ranking officer, Sana did notice how the other men look at you. She catches an occasional whisper of your brave actions in battle. She sees the men greet you with almost too much respect. Even the other centurions seem to want to be on your good side.

Maybe that's what Sana has to do too. In order to further climb up the ladder. It is risky. And it's still a long time in the future. But if Caesar can really make his ambitions reality, you will be one of the first people who benefit from it. And if Sana plays her cards well, she can benefit too.

For a moment, she wonders what a man like you would need. Something she could have to bargain with. Money? You probably earn quite a lot already. Especially compared to your earlier environment. Land? You will get that too, if you stay long enough in the army. A wife? You are a soldier. You are not allowed to be married.

As Sana is still pondering on what to do to convince you to help her gain more power, she gets closer towards the front of the century.

And it's not like she doesn't have influence. She could maybe even get you a promotion into the first cohort. Of course without her husband finding out.

Sana draws back the curtain a little with only one finger. Just a few meters ahead, she can see you walking.

Your helmet is decorated by a big crest of red horse hair. The back of the helmet and the rest of your armor shimmer in the light of the sun. She remembers your first encounter. Your armor was full with blood, indicating that you were more than able to fight a battle.

You turn around as you hear horses behind you. It wouldn't have been a surprise. One of the auxilia officers could be taking his men out to train.

Surprised at the sight of the carriage, you catch a glimpse of the passenger. Her eyes meet yours, a big golden ring decorates the finger that holds back the curtain. You could swear you see a small hint of a smile play around her lips.

"Salve."

You great her by hitting your armored chest with your fist. Not because you like her, but out of politeness.

"Salve, centurion."

Her passive aggressive mentioning of your rank indicates that she is still not over that incident a couple of days ago.

"Are you visiting the market?"

"I am. I suppose you are not here to buy pottery?"

A mocking smile replaces the earlier one.

"It may sound unbelievable, but I'm not."

A cute chuckle escapes her mouth.

"Well, I hope you enjoy this beautiful day."

Is she still mocking you, because you are on duty? You are not sure, but you can see her lazily wave goodbye as the carriage drives past you.

"Don't get too close to her. She is only gonna be trouble."

You look at Quintus.

"I'm merely being polite. I don't need trouble with angry nobles. At least not now."

"By Jupiter. One might think you've become a responsible, grown man now."

"Fuck off."

You raise your hand, but Quintus ducks away, avoiding a potential slap.

Only listening with one ear to the conversation next to you, you scan the market for the young noble woman. Despite her attitude and the fact that she is married, you can't help but glance at her occasionally. Plus, the market isn't as safe as it might seem. Cunning merchants, thiefs and rebels might roam the place, ready to strike at any moment. And being a beautiful Roman woman makes her one of the most desirable targets right now.

"Listen, Roman! I barely sell anything! How do you expect me to pay your unreasonable taxes?!"

"Shut it."

You turn back to the stall holder. Titus' and his conversation got heated.

"We are not hear to argue. We are here to collect taxes."

The man grits his teeth.

"I'm telling you! I don't have anything to give away!"

The other people around you look at the scene, before walking past. Only you and a couple of legionaries are here. The rest of your century is patrolling another village nearby and the rest of the market, making sure you are not getting ambushed.

"Don't scream at me, old man. Pay up."

"I don't have a fucking coin!"

You know he is lying. You saw someone buy his fabric from a far as you entered the marketplace. And, judging by the money bag he held earlier, it wasn't cheap at all.

"We can do this the easy way, or the heard way."

You take a step forward, towering above him.

"But the hard way won't end well for you."

"I already told you, I-"

You let your head fall back in annoyance. Collecting taxes is a necessity. Not something to be proud of. It's not as honorable as fighting in battle.

"Do you really want to go this far?"

You look down at him again, your hand now resting on the pommel of your gladius.

He caught the movement of your hand, worry creeping onto his features.

"What is it gonna be? Your life? Or coin?"

The old man is not stupid. And a couple of moments later, you walk away from his stall. The tinkle behind you indicates, that Titus is adding the silver denarii into the bag with the rest of the already collected money.

"Are you trying to rob me, old man? You are a con artist!"

Women screaming at a merchant are as common as clouds under the sky, so you don't pay much attention to it as you hear someone scream.

"How can you demand so much for this lousy work?"

You keep walking, although you kinda feel, like you heard this voice before. It sounds oddly familiar.

"By Bellona! I'm going to have you beaten for your rudeness!"

And there it is. With an annoyed groan, you immediately recognize, who is disturbing the rather peaceful market.

If she was a common local woman, you would've kept walking. The Galli could solve their own disputes.

But Sana is, as unfortunate as it is, not a local. She is a Roman woman. A member of the elite even.

You take a deep breath, before walking towards her screams. You can already guess whom she is screaming at.

"Keep going."

You tell Titus over your shoulder, as you approach her from behind. Her servant must have stayed with the carriage, because Sana is standing in front of the stall of the potter all alone.

Before the young woman can scream another word, you grab her arm.

"What-"

You spin her around and walk away, pulling her with you.

"What do you think you are doing?!"

"Silence."

You didn't say it in a loud voice, but your tone makes her go silent.

After a couple of meters, you stop, turning around to look at her.

"You're welcome."

"Excuse you?"

Her hands now rest on her hips. You can't help but catch how slender her waist seems to be.

"I just saved you from embarrassing yourself even further. You owe me."

You turn away, ready to reunite with Titus and your men.

"What the-"

It's now Sana's turn to grab your arm, stopping you from leaving.

"I don't owe you shit."

"Really?"

You turn to look at her again.

"Your temper is as bad as your observation skills. Minerva would strike you down for your utter incompetence."

You said the words, before you thought about them. You are aggravated. Because of the merchant earlier, because of her causing a scene, because of Lucius (as always) and because of her being his wife. Alright, maybe that last one was a little jealousy.

"How dare you? You are some rude-"

You stop her from saying another word by grabbing her shoulders and spinning her around.

"Look. Look and tell me what you see."

"What are you talking about?"

You see her frowning. An act that makes her beautiful face a little less flawless.

"Tell me what's going on."

You realize you are using the same tone as with the men during training. Harsh, straight forward, a little condescending. But not rude. Just factual.

"The merchant is still selling his stupidly expensive pottery."

You don't answer, waiting for more.

Sana, visibly annoyed, struggles against your grip for a moment, before giving in. You are a seasoned legionnaire. There is no way she is gonna get out of your hold on her.

"There are a couple of women and men who browse his items."

"Keep going."

"Someone is buying a bowl and an amphora."

"What is the woman on the right doing?"

"She is paying for her stuff. What-"

"Can you see how much she is paying?"

"Way too much for a stupid-"

"Do you see any of the locals complaining?"

Sana hesitantly shakes her head.

"Do you know the reason?"

"Because they are stupid. In Rome it's cheap-"

"We aren't in Rome, woman. This is Gaul."

You stand behind her, both of you silent for a couple of moments. You give her time to think about the possible reason. Although she is probably just complaining about you to the gods in silence.

"They all pay the price he demands, because he and his work are respected here."

"But they look-"

"Yeah. Some of his pieces aren't pretty."

You admit that.

"But he is an old man. His hands aren't as good as they used to be. He is obviously regarded with a decent amount of respect."

You gesture for Sana to look around the market.

"Most of the people here bargain over every single item. Food, cloth, tools and even pottery."

You turn her back towards the old man's stall.

"But not there. They respect him too much to try to get a better price. His work might not be the very best anymore, but his skill is known by everyone here."

Sana groans in annoyance and anger as she sees you coming out of the biggest tent of the camp. A week has gone by, since you treated her like a child at the market. Her blood still boils, whenever she sees you from a far.

She decided against telling her husband, not wanting to cause unnecessary friction. And if you have the favor of Caesar, it might be a bad idea to egg on her husband.

And Sana is still debating on your ability to help her seize more power. She is ready to do anything to get to the top. Even if it means working together with someone as low born as you.

Sana stops in her tracks as she sees her husband walk towards you.

"Aelius."

You don't greet him like any other lower ranking centurion would. The young woman can feel the tension between the two men, despite standing barely in earshot.

"Marius."

His face shows a disapproving twitch.

"It seems like we are catching up to Vercingetorix. I hope you don't make any mistakes in battle. I would hate to lose a lower ranking officer."

You click your tongue, taking a step forward.

With the two of you standing right in front of each other, Sana realizes that you are bigger than her husband. Not just in statue, but also in the way you carry yourself. With slightly less arrogance and more discipline.

"Don't worry about me, Aelius. As you know, I always make sure my men are taken care off."

Sana feels a shiver run down her spine. She heard more than enough stories about the battles of the tenth legion since she joined her husband. The amount of times that you were mentioned in one of them was noticeably high.

The young woman heard of a battle two summers ago. You weren't a centurion at the time. Merely a soldier of the second cohort. But in battle, your centurion chose to let his men die, while he stayed behind, watching his century getting slaughtered. After half of the eighty men were dead, you walked straight towards the cowardly centurion. A nobleman, which the storyteller didn't fail to mention with a hint of disgust. Your gladius seperated his head from his shoulders in one swift motion and you took command of the second century until the end of the battle. Caesar honored your bravery and agreed with your actions. Instead of getting executed, you got promoted.

"Are you implying I'm not leading my men well?"

Sana hears you chuckle.

"News travel fast among the younger men, Aelius."

"Maybe you should discipline your soldiers like I do. Your century is a disgrace to the tenth legion."

"Nugas garris. You are pathetic."

You walk off, leaving him behind.

Sana almost expects her husband to draw his gladius. How can you call him a disgrace? And idiot? He is higher ranking than you and he is a member of the elite.

But Aelius just watches you leave, before entering the tent you just came out of.

That short interaction reminds Sana of the power you actually hold. You might not be the highest officer, but almost the whole legion treats you as such. If it wasn't for your low birth, you might have been able to be the centurion of the first century of the first cohort.

Sana's decision is slowly forming in her mind. A plan to gain more power than she has right now. Siding with you might be risky. But the rewards could be great.

Sana glances at you from across the room as you stare at Caesar, who is currently talking. She is still not quite sure what she can offer you to make you join her side. But when the leader of the legion mentions the nobility in his speech, she sees your expression change for just a second. It is obvious that you hate all the wealthy and arrogant men and women. Maybe Sana can offer you something to get back at them. Or at least get back at Aelius.

"And that's why the tenth legion outshines any other. Your bravery and honor are praised throughout the whole empire. Rome is grateful for what you have done. And the gods smile down at the men, who give their lifes to the republic."

Caesar ends his speech. And with that, the long meal is finally over. It is night time already. Only the moon and the stars still shine.

You walk out of the large tent, ready to sleep. It has been a long day and there is no doubt that you will be fighting soon. Caesar's promise to promote you to such a high position still rings in your ears. You can't believe you've come this far.

"Gaius."

Her sweet voice makes you stop in front of your tent. She doesn't sound as angry as she usually does.

"Yes?"

You turn around, standing face to face with Sana.

"I'm here to ask you for something."

You look at her, waiting for an explanation.

"I heard that you are the bravest and most powerful man in this legion. At least unofficially."

You raise an eyebrow.

"Where is all of this honey suddenly coming from?"

Sana gives you a melodic chuckle. Only now do you realize how close she is standing. Her oils make you breath in the flowery air that surrounds her.

"I want to strike a deal with you."

"What would you want from such a low ranking officer like me?"

Your sarcasm makes it hard for Sana to not lash out. Just because she needs you, doesn't mean that she likes you.

"As far as I've heard, you won't be a low ranking officer for long."

"Is that so?"

You cross your arms in front of your chest.

"Well, it's actually quite simple. You have something I want. And I have something you want."

"I highly doubt that."

You watch Sana turn her head left and right, making sure that no one is around.

"There is a always something a man wants from a woman."

You are surprised at what she is suggesting.

"Judging by the look on your face, I can comfortably say that I'm right."

You shake your head, which seems harder than usual.

"Have you never thought about having your way with me? A noble woman?"

She takes another step closer. Now, Sana's sandals are touching yours.

"A married one at that? I bet you would love to destroy my husband. This could be your first step to success."

You narrow your eyes, still unsure of what to do. You've never been in this kind of situation. Is she making fun of you? Did Aelius put her up to this, setting a trap for you? Or is she genuine?

"What would you get in return?"

"Your power. Your influence. I can't live, knowing that another person might have more power than I do. I need to be at the top of the republic."

"And you think, I can get you there?"

Sana nods.

"With my support? Definitely."

She looks at you, waiting for a response.

You are still torn. She has a nice body, yes. But you're not fond of her attitude. She is a noble woman. And she is married. Getting caught would have serious consequences. For the both of you.

But the chance to use her? A noble woman? Fucking her, while her husband is only sleeping a couple of tents away? More than just tempting.

You look around the camp yourself. No one in sight.

"Get in."

A victorious smile forms on her lips. As she walks past you, she lets her finger glide over your armoured chest.

You follow her immediately after.

"Now that we have come to an agreement, I-"

You push Sana forward, bending her over the wooden table.

"What-"

You don't give her time to speak. If you're going to do this, you're going to do this quickly.

Hiking up her red stola, you reach underneath her tunic. The smoothness of her legs makes you hard as you reach between them.

"It seems like you are enjoying this more than I expected."

Your fingers graze her lower lips. She is not just a little wet.

"Hey, I didn't give you permission to-"

You shut Sana up by covering her mouth with your other hand.

"I don't need you permission. I'm going to ruin you anyway."

Her gasp is muffled by your hand as you push your first finger inside.

You haven't slept with a lot of women, the army being mainly responsible for that. Nonetheless, you do know how to pleasure a woman.

Sana's moan escapes between your fingers as your digits slide along her wet walls. Her pussy is already gripping them tightly.

If it weren't for your hand, her head would've sunk onto the table already. But you are holding her in place, which ultimately makes her arch her back.

She tries to say something, but your grip on her mouth makes it impossible for her to speak properly.

You are surprised at how wet Sana is.

"Was your desire for power just an excuse? Do you just want me to fuck you?"

She tries to shake her head. You don't let her.

"Do you get off, knowing that a lower born man is fucking you?"

Sana is unable to respond, when you let go off her face. Her whole upper body is now lying on top of the table. You drop your belt and hike her clothes up a little further.

"Don't get confused. I still don't like you."

Sana's growl doesn't sound very convincing with your fingers inside of her.

"Might be true. But you aren't married to Aelius because of his personality anyways."

Pulling your fingers out of her core makes Sana moan loudly. She blushes in shame. Doubt starting to rise inside of her. Is she really only doing this to team up with you?

"You only seem to care for power."

"So? Only a coward wouldn't want power."

You shut her up by letting your tip graze against her lips. Sana hisses through her teeth, unwilling to moan again.

"I'm just curious about how far you would be willing to go. How dedicated you are to this cause."

"Don't worry. I'm ready to do anything."

"Anything?"

You raise an eyebrow, which Sana can't see.

"Anything."

"That's reassuring."

Your nonchalant tone makes Sana shiver.

Finally, you push inside of her.

"Fuck, woman."

You can't help but marvel at how tight she actually is.

"Fuck me already."

It's a mixture of plea and demand.

With one hand you grab her hair, pushing her cheek against the wooden surface. Your other hand holds her waist.

Another moan escapes Sana's lips as you thrust forward. Before she can react, you pull back and push inside of her again.

After just a couple of seconds, you start to fuck her hard. The table rocks back and forth with every thrust. Her moans escape her lips, whenever you bottom out inside of her.

"Harder!"

Sana holds onto the edge of the table, her knuckles slowly starting to turn white.

Because you keep pushing her upwards with your thrusts, the young woman's feet eventually dangle in the air.

You are now able to fuck her even deeper. Her moans become louder when she feels your cock invading her pussy even further.

At this point, Sana is merely a hole for you to fuck. She doesn't move. Only your thrusts rock her body back and forth. The thin material of her clothes makes Sana's nipples rub against the wooden surface. They've become hard due to her arousal and are now adding to the pleasure she is already feeling.

"So good!"

She moans yet again. You suddenly realize, that this isn't really a save place to be this loud.

"Shut up."

You growl into her ear, trying to quiet her.

But Sana can't help it. She has already lost control over her body. Your cock is parting her walls again and again, making her clench around it tightly.

She is even unable to produce a disappointed whine, when you stop fucking her. You leaver her snug pussy, before getting her off your table.

Turning her around, you push Sana against the wooden post, which is holding up the roof of your tent. Reaching for your belt, you hold her arms up, before tying them together.

Sana is now unable to leave. You pick up her light frame, making her impale herself on your cock.

"By Bellona! Fuck!"

"I told you to stay quiet."

Your faces are barely an inch apart.

Because you push her body against the post, you are able to lift her up with only your left hand. Your right one moves upwards to wrap its fingers around her throat.

"One more word..."

You let the threat of unknown punishment linger in the air for a moment.

But you can't hold yourself back for long. Sana's pussy drips her juices onto your cock, coaxing you into resuming your pounding.

A whimper escapes her mouth, when you start to fuck her again. You can tell she is at least trying to stay quiet this time. While you make her bounce on your cock, you thrust upwards. It makes her eyes roll back, whenever she feels your cock pushing against her guts.

"Venus!"

A louder sigh escapes her mouth yet again. You close your fingers around her throat a little further.

"Behave."

The conflict in Sana's eyes amuses you.

She should be the one in charge. She is the noble one of the two of you after all. But here she is, bound to your post, your hand around her throat as you fuck her as hard as you can.

Sana tries to fight the belt, wanting to tell you that you have to choke her harder. She can't keep quiet when you fuck her like this.

Another moan escapes her lips and you tighten your grip yet again.

"I warned you."

You hiss into her face.

Sana's wide eyes look beautiful. The way she stares at you, begging you to fuck her harder, while she tries her best not to make any noise.

But she fails miserably. A loud sigh echoes through the tent.

Without a word, you reach upwards. The sound of metal on metal cuts through the night as you pull your pugio out of its sheath. You let Sana get a good look at it. Then, you slowly part her lips with its blade.

"If you don't want to hurt your pretty face..."

You don't continue your sentence once more. But Sana is well aware of the risks.

With your dagger in her mouth, Sana has to pull back her lips, while simultaneously biting onto the blade, to make sure it doesn't fall or hurt her.

You see her closing her eyes as you keep fucking her. She is now really quiet, focused on keeping your pugio in place.

"Finally. Your voice so annoying."

Sana blushes in shame, able to see your honesty in your eyes.

"At least you have a nice body. I could fuck you every day."

The young woman almost lets out another moan. She really has to hold herself back. This was the first time someone reduced her to nothing but a wet hole to fuck. She didn't expect it to feel this good.

You suddenly hear footsteps outside. You stop moving, almost making Sana whine in disappointment, but then she hears it too. The two of you hold your breath. Neither of you wanting to get caught.

As the footsteps disappear into the night, you resume your fucking.

You make Sana bounce up and down on your cock. She glides along its full length. Whenever you impale her on it, Sana's eyes shoot wide open. She would scream if it wasn't for the dagger between her teeth.

"I'm gonna cum."

You hiss into her face, unable to hold back longer. Her tight pussy has been working on draining your cock this whole time. It feels perfect, almost too good to pull out. But cuming inside is obviously not an option.

You put Sana back onto her own two feet, taking the knife out of her mouth. Undoing your belt, you free her arms. Sana drops to her knees, opening her mouth. You catch a couple drops of blood on the corners of her mouth, before she wraps her lips around your cock.

Your pugio falls out of your hand and you take a fistful of her beautiful hair. Her eyes look up at you, telling you to finish inside her mouth. Her tongue glides over every inch of your cock it can find, while her lips are tightly sealed around it.

"Sana."

You manage to groan her name, before you unload inside her mouth. You feel dizzy, having to close your eyes for a moment.

When you open them again, you see Sana gulping down your cum.

"How often do we need to do this, so that we have a deal?"

"I think you know the answer."

It's so dark that Sana's face is barely lit by the torch outside. You could swear a small smile plays around her lips though.

[nmyphomania]

╰┈➤ ❝ [Kinktober Day 3: Breeding]❞

Summary: Some advisors piss Zuko off about a baby, and he decides you’re the only one who can fix this situation.

Warning(s): F! Reader, breeding, mating press, messy kissing, rough sex, snowballing, mouth-spitting, minor dirty talk, dub-con if you read in between the lines, creampie, multiple orgasms

WC: 1.6k

•𑁍•

You never really understood how you and Zuko could possibly go from one situation, to an entirely different one in seemingly mere minutes. More appropriately, an hour or two ago. His advisors were talking to him about how they oh so needed an heir to the throne to be conceived at once. How they preferred a boy to become the next to hold the title of the Fire lord, another preferred that he should be taught extensive firebending training to become as powerful as Zuko was by sixteen. Zuko came back to his quarters pissed as ever just listening to the advisors, he couldn’t believe half of the shit that ran loosely from their ignorant mouths.

The more thoughts of the meeting streamed through his head, the harder he plowed his hips down into you. Thinking about the situation never made his temper falter from any less upset he was in those moments, the bed underneath began to thump against the solid walls unforgivingly. Zuko’s hands went to grip at your fleshy hips, hammering himself forcibly into your salivating folds that could only go basically numb from his assaults. She submitted to his every will during his bout of anger, wails somewhat muffled out due to the thickness of the duvets on the bed, eyes going straight to the back of her head each time Zuko would slam dead on her g spot.

“You want a fucking heir, I’ll give you one, maybe even fucking three.” He spat, more to himself than out loud. You, however, heard this and wholly melted into the mattress with a significantly louder sob than the rest. The man above you lifted his leg up to stamp flatly in the mattress to support his impossibly deeper movements, they sped up smoothly with all his preceding thrusts, greatly affecting the ability to intake a proper lung-full of air. It's like he was a different person when he was upset, there was no negotiation on power play, no playfulness, nothing. He just raw-dogged your insides into a thick pulp with your fucking third orgasm of the night.

His hips spanked fat red marks into the underside of your ass, the rough contact didn’t even hurt anymore. The pain had grown so great that now every time he slapped painfully on your skin, the harsh sting was reduced to a dull, numbed out soreness. From your fingers flying all the way down to your toes felt like pins and needles prickling the surface of your naked body, even your throat started to burn from all the screaming your vocals could barely even support. He finally groaned longingly once your walls came in on his dick, spewing out another trail of juices from the couple’s connection. A strong hand gripped until fingernail marks dug into your flesh, aiding him to propel you back onto his length to intensify his hips’ jolts forward.

A burning sensation now stinging at his pelvis from the reckless use of his toned hips along with his propped up leg, the ecstatic crescendo of his orgasm peaking just behind a couple more thrusts. Drilling the head of his cock so deep he was sure he made it to her heated womb desperately asking for his cum to breed her to the brim and beyond. To plant whatever he could produce from his depths in the midst of her beaten up insides. Heaving his angry arousal along the embrace of her gummy walls around him.

“‘m gonna, do it in you. I hope that’s alright..” He muttered out almost apprehensively. You choked out whatever intelligible words you could form, “Y-yes…Zuko.”

Zuko abruptly flipped you around to stay put on your back, legs being pushed back until her knees hit the mattress beside her head. Standing slightly above her, he moved closer to re enter inside of her in such a crude position on the surface of the bed. From over her own body, he planted deeply inside of her messy pussy, roughly molding out his dick inside of her pitiful sex like some hungry animal. Tears accumulated at the corners of your eyes from the physically demanding position you were now forced into, your legs felt like they could give out from being pushed beyond their flexibility limits. All liquids being forced out of you splashing on his face, creating a wet sheen over his body.

Long, drawn out keens from the both if you sounded into the atmosphere of the room from your mutual stomach-caving finish. Zuko fucked his orgasm inside of her even further, plunging whatever wasn’t already balls deep inside of her. It's like his cock touched the very part of her soul that made something snap in her mind, continuing his jarring pushes downward. So deep, so big, so amazing, you could virtually feel the thickness of the base of his dick in your throat, never letting up fucking you as passionately as he did.

“Give me another I know you can do it f’me love.”

Everything went impractically faster leaving you a filthy mess, you couldn’t even think straight without thinking about how his dick is currently beating down your guts at the moment. Drool seeped steadily from the corner of your mouth, eyes twitching from the immense amount of pressure and jerks from the overwhelming senses of their sex. You could barely wrap your arms around him as he had you mostly pinned down in this foreign position, so deciding it was best to just lay there and take it like some desperate bitch. Sputters, some bubbles and your eyes glued to the back of your head, your mouth left gaping as he leaned over to kiss you gently on your exposed neck.

“Good angi, give it to me Zuko!”

The breathed-out comment sent something rushing through his veins, he couldn’t decipher it but god, the way she looked him into his eyes taunting; hell even daring him to get her all sorts of knocked up. As knocked up as he could even get her, filling her up until her stomach bulged even more prominently. He grew dizzy, legs failing to keep him up through the process of gaining one more blissful finish, his voice nothing more than hoarse whispers of sighs, pants, all telltale signs of him getting so much closer.

Zuko strokes decelerated gently, allowing him to continue to delve inside her deep, relaxing his body so that he can place a firm hand to wrap itself on the base of her neck.

“Open.” She listened wordlessly, he conjured up a petty strand of saliva to spit into the warmth of her open mouth. Letting her lap at his dribble by sticking her tongue out wide, and flicking at anything that came from him. This urged you two into a languid kiss, breathing frantically against each other’s mouths whilst Zuko resumed his previous pace from before. Their lips would meet every now and then, but not for long. You sucked in his bottom lip, licking up into the unexplored space of his mouth. He took the chance to wrap his lips around your tongue, bobbing his head unhurriedly, almost methodically.

As the night dragged on, the both of you were nearly drunk off each other’s lips, hands, skin even. Another couple of orgasms came out of the time and effort both of you put into loving on each other all of his cum only reserved for going inside of you, now working on the final one of the night, the two of you were pressed on the wall rutting into each other like some hormonal teenagers. She threw her head back on the wall with a thud, swallowing thickly, a slightly painful climax ripping through her sobbing pussy. Zuko pulled out of you entirely once he finally came, making you drop on your knees to catch his cum in your mouth. His whole figure tenses and jerks erratically in the heat of the climax, clouding his mind and any thoughts that seemed to run rampant. He huffed, bringing his hand up to bite down on a fist while he blew his literal bodily capacity inside your tight mouth.

As you took all of the stripes of white flinging all over in both your mouth and throat, his abs convulsed and rolled under his pale skin. You watch as he furrowed his eyebrows, dropping his fist out from between his teeth in awe at how hard he came.

“Don’t swallow, c’mere”

Going to pull yourself up with the use of the nearby nightstand, he brought both of his hands to snake around your neck before pulling you into a deep kiss. He swirled around his own essence with his curious tongue, wiping away the stray trail falling from the side of your mouth. It was thick, sloppy, and almost sweet tasting; and the two of them shared how ever much could be evenly distributed between each other.

His right hand went to trace around your figure that outlined your body he knew all too well, traveling across the stuffed swell of your stomach. Maybe, and hopefully so, that a few healthy babies could be conceived from your bred and worked out body. Some of it dripped along the plushness of your thigh, running out from between your naked folds from the overfill he bestowed on her from the events of that evening. Just beautiful, he never said this aloud but he thought it, sliding his hand down even further to fully palm possessively at your throbbing heat he could most definitely lose his mind over.

•𑁍•

Tags:

[hiraethwrote]

AS I LIVE AND BREATHE

pairing : tobio kageyama x f!reader summary : he thought time had extinguished any silly little feelings he'd had for you. that was way back in high school anyways. why would they linger when he didn't have you around to remind him? cw : just pure fluff, very self indulgent, kinda boring but idc, heavy pining, timeskip, set in 2016, flashbacks, reader is a uni dropout (lowkey me venting about dropping out lol), mild cursing, no use of y/n word count : 3.5k

He couldn’t help how his looks always used to linger — a generous gesture he had only spared you.

It wasn’t news to Tobio that he was notorious for being unapproachable. He had a permanent frown stamped on his forehead that always gave the impression that he was in no mood to interact with anyone. And if someone had been possessed with the spirit of engaging in small talk, he would keep his answers short and to the point. If the topic didn’t interest him, he saw no reason why he would waste his energy on it.

Eventually people just stopped trying, leaving him to live in his exclusive bubble where volleyball was the only thing that mattered — and that was enough for him.

However, you decided to go against the stream, ignoring the pinched eyebrows and standoffish demeanour.

It wasn’t anything big, but you just spared him something as simple as a smile. If he accidentally locked eyes with you across the classroom, or you passed each other in the halls, your lips would curl into the kindest smile before going on with your day.

At first he had thought you must have mistaken him for someone else, because why would you smile at him? You never really talked to each other, falling into the roles of simply being classmates.

But the tiny smiles continued, clearly meant for him. And what was probably just a meaningless act of kindness to you, had heat creep up his neck and colour his cheeks in dusty pink. Eventually he developed the tiniest hallway crush, eyes shyly seeking you out as he impatiently waited for you to catch him.

That’s where his courage stopped however. He knew he would never be brave enough to ever initiate a conversation, based on the few times words were exchanged between you and his mouth would completely dry out. You could come over to ask the most casual question of “do you have a pen I could borrow?”, and when he muttered a shy no, you simply went on to ask the next person, thinking nothing more of it.

Tobio would churn over the interaction for hours, hindsight supplying him with all the possible answers he could have given you.

Three years of a childish crush eventually came to an end when graduation rolled around. When separated, your smiles simply ceased to exist in his life and it was like a fog had lifted. He left Karasuno, and the crush evaporated into nothingness and he grew out of the childish infatuation.

That’s what he thought at least.

Right now, that very smile that had his heart race was staring back at him, identical to how he remembered it — turns out his infatuation had nothing to do with age, and everything to do with you.

Your deadpanned expression twisted into one of pleasant surprise when you spotted him. “Kageyama Tobio, as I live and breathe!”

Maybe he had always had a tiny glimmer of hope he would eventually run into you again — that being said, he was not prepared for that time to be now. Last he heard, you were basking in the glorious university life in Tokyo, attending some prestigious education he could only imagine getting into. You weren’t supposed to stand behind the counter of the quaint convenience store, much like you had done when you were sixteen.

What was even more unexpected was how you knew his name. Your interactions throughout your acquaintance had been so few and far between, he had just assumed you knew him as ‘that volleyball guy’ — but hearing his name spoken in the tune of your voice, travelling in cheerful waves, had his heart beat a little faster.

Despite his frozen stature, he let his eyes take in the scenery of you sat behind the counter. Your shoulders were close under your ears, the corporate fleece doing little to shield out the gushing cold air that occupied the store.

As unflattering as the white light above might have been, it did little to diminish your appearance which was prettier than he recalled — you looked very much like yourself, just slightly different. Every feature had turned more defined, the childlike curves slowly fading with time.

“There’s a face I didn’t think I’d see any time soon.”

Swallowing his nerves, praying his flushed cheeks wasn’t beyond obvious, he placed his items on the surface in front of you.

“Could say the same.” He wished he was brave enough to look at your face, wanting to take in all the subtle changes to your appearance. But he didn’t dare let his eyes rest on you for more than a few moments at a time, redirecting his attention to the rather interesting products he was purchasing, impatiently waiting for his heart to settle so he could act like a normal human being.

“Thought you were busy being a big shot volleyball player,” you teased, the obnoxious beeping of you scanning his items ringing in his ears. “What are you doing back home?”

He cleared his throat, hoping it would bring back some steadiness to it. “Just visiting,” nodding carefully as the words tumbled awkwardly out of him.

As he paid for his items, he tried to let his innocent urges control him and tilt his head to look at you — he had to greet the embarrassed redness to his cheeks like an old friend when he saw you already had your eyes focused on him.

“Are you in town for long?” You asked as you handed him the bagged groceries, your fingers brushing against his in a featherlight touch. It was so modest, he wasn’t even sure you felt it — he most certainly did.

“Just a few days.”

“That’s nice. A break from your hectic schedule.”

“I’ll still practice.”

Your smile widened as you pulled your sleeves over your hands, folding your arms and leaning forward on the counter. “Yeah, guess I kinda knew that.”

He felt so stupid, ogling you with big eyes as he racked his brain for all that he knew of small talk, and yet he blanked completely.

“Guess the life of a pro athlete never stops,” you said as you checked your wristwatch, probably waiting for the time to strike eleven so you could close up.

“No, not really.”

He sensed an awkward silence sneak in on the conversation, and he so desperately did not want it to end. And he spotted the slightest betrayal in your expression when your smile wavered for a split second — and he was convinced it was because you thought he was being weird.

With this opportunity served on a silver platter, he wanted to prove he wasn’t as socially inapt as he came across to be.

“You’re in Tokyo now, right?”

“Well, yes, technically,” you chuckled, undisclosed information hiding in your answer. It was uncontrollable how he quirked an eyebrow in confusion, though he quickly smoothened it in hopes he didn’t come across as rude. “Guess I’m home visiting as well. For a while.”

“And do you like it? Tokyo?”

“It’s definitely more my pace.”

That confirmed his suspicions, possessing a lively personality that seemed too big for this small town. He had always found you to have a soothing type of vibrancy that filled every room you walked into.

And your energy was infectious. He was still anxious beyond belief, but somewhere inside him he could sense that your presence had a calming effect on him. It possessed him with a flash of courage when he said “it’s nice seeing you again.”

You blinked at him, lips parted in surprise at his unexpected line, and for a moment he was sure he had messed up. He clenched his fists, waiting for you to laugh at him or tell him off.

He didn’t expect your smile to return, reigniting the butterflies once again. “Yeah,” you spoke softly, “yeah, you too.” The smile remained and the cute crinkles by your eyes deepened.

The conversation was once more drifting towards a close, and this time Tobio didn’t think he had it in him to resurrect it. He took a deep breath and presented you with a tight lipped smile, mumbling a quiet “see ya,” before turning on his heel and heading for the door.

He only had time to place his palm against the cool glass before you called his name. “Hey, Kageyama,” capturing his attention, eyebrows narrowed as he waited for your next words. “I close up in like ten minutes. Wanna walk me home?”

What? Had he heard you right?

You sunk your teeth cutely into your bottom lip, a tiny bit amused by how visibly his mind was racing to comprehend your request. “I would love to catch up more.”

His shoulders raised, as if this wasn’t the most stressful interaction he could ever remember being in, “sure.”

You gave him a look, one he couldn’t quite deduce the meaning of, while there was a sprinkle of mischief in your pursed smirk.

He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jacket so his nerves wouldn’t spill out in anxious fidgeting, while you started all your closing routines.

As subtly as he managed, he kept his attention on you, standing behind the register, counting the change as you quietly hummed along to the melody coming from the cheap radio behind you. Consuming his mind was the thought that you seems to fit perfectly into the impression he had created of you back in school — kind, generally keeping a smile on your face, really just trying to enjoy the day that was today.

Your head tilted down to check your wristwatch again as you let out a deep exhale, ridding yourself of the strain caused from the closing shift before you disappeared down one of the isles.

Shifting his weight from one foot to another, he was still trying to mentally prepare himself for the walk home — he was probably never again going to get the chance to prove to you that he wasn’t as socially constipated and egocentric like everyone thought he was.

The lights shut off, and you emerged again, having changed out of the uniform and into a black hoodie. “Finally,” your head fell back playfully in light exasperation, hands rummaging through your bag before you pulled out your keys, “staying open until eleven on a Saturday should be considered a crime. There’s not a soul present the last hour.”

Tobio walked out the door first, and without even thinking about it, he simply held the door open for you. He had just acted on pure instinct, and didn’t reflect on it until you flashed him another one of your charming grins. As you mumbled quiet gratitudes, he spun his head away and retracted further into the neck of his jacket — if you were to look directly at him, you would definitely be able to see the generous flush spreading across his face.

“So, Kageyama Tobio,” you said nonchalantly, spinning the keys around your finger before tossing them in your bag again, “the olympics. Quite the achievement.”

“Thank you.”

You chuckled as you startled to fiddle with the packaging of a protein bar. “Never took you to be so humble,” you teased.

Turning to look at you again, he let his eyes be led by the protein bar heading for your mouth, before landing on your lips — your plump, glossy lips that looked so extremely soft. It wasn’t until you’d finished chewing and started talking again he was able to catch himself staring and avert his gaze back to the path ahead.

“I mean, from what I’ve seen of you on the court, it’s not the first word I would use to describe you.”

“You’ve seen me play?”

A deeper laugh escaped you, one that reactively caused a smile to grow on his face — he quickly wiped it away, too scared to lean into the feeling. “Of course I have. Several. Always having us at the edge of our seats. But you-“ you cut yourself off, pointing the bar in your hand at him.

Did you even have a clue what you were doing to him? His breath hitching in his throat, tense shoulders stiffening his arms when you so abruptly stepped ahead to walk backwards while always able to look at him.

“You, mister, got pride filling your every fibre when playing.”

Eyes widened at your compliment — because that’s what it was, a compliment. Not a comment with rude undertones, not a snarky statement to piss him off, but genuine admiration for his craft.

“You think so?”

“No, I know so. It’s quite obvious when looking at you.”

“Been looking at me quite a lot, have you?”

“As a matter of fact, I have.”

This time he surrendered to the urge to flash you a smile. It was a reserved one, however, barely able to spot how the corner of his lips tilted upwards — cute.

“Guess it’s not too long until you head for Rio, right?” You asked as you took another bite.

“In a couple of months,” he retracted his hands from his pockets to clutch around the strap of his bag. “Kind of a wonder they let me visit home.”

“Yeah, would think they’d have you locked up in the gym until you leave,” and you chucked again, a sound he quickly realised he really liked to hear.

He cleared his throat, slowly stepping into a more confident role. “When are you heading back to Tokyo?”

Your steps came to a halt, and he couldn’t help but notice how nice you looked under the warm light from the street lamps, he nearly missed the uncertainty that traveled across your face.

Eventually it seemed you reached a conclusion, opening your mouth. “I don’t know, to be honest. Soon hopefully.”

“Studies going well?”

“No,” you hesitated, forcing a laugh. “In fact, they’re not going at all.” You could tell by the look on his face he was confused. “I dropped out.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

You didn’t know why it had so easily slipped past your tongue. Usually you had a hard time admitting it out loud, feeling the weighing sensation of disappointment from everyone you told.

However, there was something about Tobio that had you fall into a sense of comfort you couldn’t quite explain. Maybe it was the fact that he was someone who wasn’t a complete stranger to your life, yet unfamiliar enough that he felt unrelated to everything going on.

“Do you regret it?”

It wasn’t the question you expected. People usually wanted to know why — why would you do that, and what were you to do now? Would you manage to find a job no when you had strayed from your original plan?

You let the question linger in the air for a moment before you answered, “no. I don’t.”

His chest raised as he took a deep breath, a welcoming and warm smile greeting you, one that was wider than the one he flashed you earlier. “Good.”

It was one word — just one word, yet it was loaded with a sense of understanding you had barely received when sharing your life changing news. It had you purse your lips to contain the overwhelming smile that was about to overtake your entire face.

The eye contact was intense, heart pounding a little harder by how surprisingly comfortable it felt, filling you with giddiness you hadn’t experienced in a while.

“You know,” you cleared your throat as you turned your back to him and started walking again. “I knew there was a reason I liked you.” It only took him a few seconds to catch up and walk along side you again. “You’re quite the character, Kageyama.”

He scoffed, pretending like what you said didn’t make his heart flutter. “Care to elaborate?”

“I don’t know, I always just assumed you would be like how you are when you play,” you sighed. “You’re so sure of yourself when you’re tossing. Very serene, if you will. Unless you were yelling at that little guy. Damn, what was his name? The ginger?”

Amusement twisted his expression. Not only because you knew Hinata as ‘the ginger’, but also because you had known his name, but not remembered his old teammate’s name despite him being considerably more outgoing than himself — Tobio was almost certain you’d had more conversations with Hinata than you had ever had with him.

“You talking about Hinata?”

“Yes! Him!” Excitement spilling out in your gestures. “Besides the point. My friend had a crush on one of your teammates, so she sometimes dragged me along to spy on your practices.”

He was slowly growing tired of how you had the blush lurking under his skin almost permanently, when he once again felt it approaching as he waited for the rest of your story. For the short time you had been walking, he had managed to find a somewhat steady presence, but the little confidence he grasped onto was hanging on by a thin thread. Whatever you were to say next threatened to sever it.

“There was a handful of times I witnessed you scream at the poor guy,” you laughed, nudging an elbow to his side.

Maybe he could latch onto the pleasant vibrations of your laugh to maintain his peace, trying not to let the memories of his outbursts crush him.

“It was a refreshing sight.”

Come on, Kageyama, give into the banter.

“Has anyone ever told you that you come with quite loaded statements?” He hoped he managed to smear his voice with sarcasm in order to hide the insecurity that tainted his words.

“Sorry,” trailing off with a soothing giggle. “Bad habit — what I mean is, it expanded the impression I had of you. You were always so quiet, minding your own business, much like you are now. When you’re playing, however, you’re emotional, if that makes sense?” You said with an awkward chuckle.

Was he dreaming? Was his ears playing a trick on him? Had you really been doing such an analysis of his character, enough to form an opinion that went beyond the impression he gave to most people?

He turned to look at you, locking eyes with you immediately — there was something so tender in your expression, gaze seemingly holding a deeper message he was eager, desperate, to unveil. But he struggled, too wrapped up in how your vibrant grin had transformed into a shy tilt. He couldn’t quite describe it, but it felt more genuine somehow — emotional, maybe, as you’d put it.

“Anyways,” breaking the eye contact, feeling an unfamiliar burning sensation tingle up your neck. You weren’t used to being flustered like this. “Yelling at Hinata, proved you’re more of a hothead than you let on,” trying to fall back to a casual tension, ignoring how the recent eye contact with his captivating blue eyes had stirred up the tiniest whirlwind inside you.

“Never thought you were so observant,” he quipped, and much like you, he tried to smother the boyish excitement you had caused.

“What? D’you go around thinking I was too daft or something?” There was a very evident joking manner to your tone, but didn’t seem like he picked up on it.

“What? No! That’s not-“

“I’m just playing with you, Kageyama,” you laughed, true melody to his ears.

“I just meant… of me.” He kept his eyes locked ahead, knowing his face was about to completely succumb to the blush that was so easily brought to the surface around you.

“Yeah, well,” he heard your deep sigh, “I don’t know. You stuck out to me, despite you trying your very best not to.”

All his experiences regarding you from his school days suddenly intensified — everything was put in a new light with this revolutionary information. No wonder he had found himself falling for you when there was an unspoken connection he wasn’t even aware of.

“This is me!” Your tone changed immediately, the sentimental energy evaporating into nothing but a memory. “Thanks for walking me home.”

He was fortunate enough to receive another of your characteristic smiles, those would probably always have an hypnotising effect on him, as you backed up towards the entryway of your house.

“My pleasure,” he said, trying his best to mirror the earnestness of your affection.

You had pulled out your keys again, “and I’ll make sure to tune in when you’re in Rio. Even if I have to get up in the middle of the night.”

“Maybe you’ll see some of that emotion you were talking about.”

“Oh, I’m betting on it,” you opened the door. “Good night, Kageyama.”

“You know,” he was quick to interject before you had the opportunity to disappear through the door. He swallowed his fear, “you can call me Tobio.”

A smile. “Good night. Tobio.” You held his gaze a second, and you were out of his sight.

tags : @hiraethwa

an : okay i am not so happy with it... the words were working against me on this one. might be bc i'm not familier with writing for hq yet but eventually. i have more hope in my next hq fic. it is also v boring, but it's more of a venting fic for how i feel about dropping out (it comes in waves yk)

©hiraethwrote 2024 . all rights reserved. reposting, translating and otherwise plagarisim is prohibited

[seungkw1]

since your asks are open, makeout sesh with wonwoo/woozi? and some touches here and there if you could. amazing works btw!!

morning coffee — ljh

♡ pairing: lee jihoon x afab!reader ♡ theme: boyfriend!woozi, suggestive, fluff ♡ wc: 0.8k ♡ warnings: a lil over-the-clothes titty grabbing action but that’s it ♡ a/n: thank u sm anon for my first request hehe, hope this is what you were looking for!

your alarm goes off at 8:00am.

you yawn as you hit snooze, immediately plopping back into the pillows and rolling over. your boyfriend is long gone for work at this point - the coolness of the vacant sheets greets your warm body, feeling refreshing, but making you a bit sad that jihoon isn’t there to be your little spoon.

after a few rounds of snoozes you drag yourself out of bed and into the shower - your limbs on autopilot while your brain is still half-asleep. the warm water is invigorating, and by the time you finish washing up you are wide awake. you hop out and dry off quickly - donning only a tank top and a pair of underwear before bopping on over to the kitchen to get started on some coffee. you go to put grounds into the machine when you pause - the filter is already occupied, a full, fresh pot of coffee sitting there waiting for you.

weird… jihoon doesn’t drink coffee, so why is- 

“that outfit looks good on you.”

you nearly jump out of your skin at the sudden voice. you whip your head around to see jihoon, reclining on the couch, a playful grin on his face.

“jesus you scared me!” you say, hand clutching your chest as you try and calm down your heart rate. “what are you doing here??”

“i don’t work today, remember? i mentioned it last night.”

oh yeah.

“well now i remember,” you reply as you reach for a mug, helping yourself to the hot beverage. “did you make this for me?” 

“just for you, babe.”

the corners of your lips perk up involuntarily. no matter how long you’ve been together, jihoon never fails to find little ways to make you smile every day.

you sip your drink - nice and strong, just the way you like it.

jihoon gazes at you lovingly. “come here, i wanna kiss you.”

you oblige, quickly taking a seat next to him. you set your drink on the coffee table before wrapping your arms around his shoulders, giving him a soft kiss on the lips. you let out a yelp as he suddenly lays down, pulling you over on top of him. your body rests comfortably against his as he draws you in as close as possible - you giggle as he gives you a rapid stream of smooches, his nose squishing into yours. jihoon rubs your back softly as he locks lips with you, his hands running up and down your body slowly. you kiss him back, pressing your mouth into his as you brush your fingers through his hair - he lets out a soft sigh at the sensation.

slowly he slides his hand down to your chest, taking your breast and playing with it - giving it light squeezes and brushing his thumb against your nipple, the feeling sensitive even through your shirt. you slip your hand underneath his t-shirt, caressing his stomach, brushing your palm lightly against his warm skin. jihoon is relentless, his mouth pressing against yours, his tongue tracing around the inside of your mouth, your teeth softly pulling at his tongue as you begin to suck on it. you feel his rapid heartbeat, pounding synchronously with yours. 

you don’t know how long you lay there, bodies intertwined, making out - but you don’t care. time is irrelevant, whatever you were going to do today can wait. 

fervent kisses slow, turning gentle. you plant one more kiss on his lips, lifting your head up to look your boyfriend in the eyes. he looks at you fondly, full of adoration. you feel your already-warm face turn even more flush as you beam back at him.

jihoon stretches his arms out. “so, what did- SHIT” his hand bumps your coffee cup, almost knocking it over. some now-room-temperature coffee sloshes out onto the table, but he grabs the mug before it fully takes a tumble.

“nice catch,” you say with a grin.

“sorry,” he replies, his cheeks turning pink. 

you sit up, about to go grab a towel, but jihoon jumps up before you can, taking the mug with him. he returns from the kitchen with paper towels in one hand and your mug in the other, the coffee now steaming.

“i reheated it for you,” he says as he hands you the cup. you take a sip as he cleans up the spill, the hot beverage gracing your taste buds.

jihoon finishes cleaning and rejoins you on the couch. 

“so what do you have going on today babe?” 

“nothing,” you reply.

he grins back at you before grabbing you and pulling you on top of him once more. you laugh as he starts kissing your cheek again.

“good.”

[a-reader-and-a-writer]

Sweeter Than Revenge Part 6

Fandom: Twisters, Tyler Owens, f!reader, Scott's Sister!reader Summary: Today is the day! You are riding with Tyler and Boone directly into a tornado. Get ready for an experience you'll never forget. Word Count: 3303 TW: Flirting, Kissing, Developing Feelings, Storm Danger, Scott Sucks, Language Notes: A massive thank you to @blue-aconite and @green-socks for reading this over for me and for all the constant support! And to @mayhem24-7forever for always answering my late-night panicked messages

Divider created by me (please ask/credit before using)

Series Masterlist

After breakfast, you helped Dexter and Lily clean up and prepare to leave for the first chase of the day. You gathered up the trash bags, jogged the short distance to the dumpsters, and tossed them in. When you turned around, you jumped as you found Tyler standing in front of you.

Clutching your chest, you swore, “Damn it! Why does everyone have to keep popping up and scaring me!”

He grinned, swaggering forward as he said, “I saw that little show you put on with Boone. It seems like you might not be over that revengeful streak of yours after all.” He stopped a few feet from you.

You lifted one shoulder as you tilted your head down so you could look up at him from under your lashes. “What can I say, some habits are hard to break.” Stepping closer until your chest almost grazed his, you lifted your head and stared unwaveringly into his eyes. “And sometimes people need to be reminded they aren’t the only ones who can tease or play games. Or that maybe they aren’t as smooth as they think they are and others can see through their bullshit deflections.”

Tilting his head, almost in a sign of deference, he murmured, “Good to know. Maybe you should take your own advice.” 

He leaned his head closer to yours…then pivoted and walked back towards his truck, once again leaving you flustered and your cheeks burning. As you silently cursed him, he yelled over his shoulder, “Oh, you might wanna have a talk with Boone about that little act before he shows up at your room with flowers and a box of chocolates.” 

You rolled your eyes and trudged after him.

It turned out, Tyler may not have been exaggerating. When you made it back to the camper van, Boone was there waiting for you, asking if you needed any help or if he could carry something for you or if you wanted something to drink or—

You couldn’t see Tyler, but you swore you heard him snickering somewhere nearby. 

As politely as possible, you explained to Boone that while you appreciated his offers, you were fine and that you hoped he didn’t get the wrong impression from your hug earlier. Boone’s face flushed as he stammered out a few “‘course not”s and “we’re cool”s before excusing himself and slinking away. You felt really bad at essentially using him, especially after he had been nothing but kind to you. Once again, you kicked yourself for allowing the old you to come to the surface and not having the self-control to stop playing games. 

Luckily, everything seemed to be forgotten by the time you joined Tyler and Boone at the red pickup a few minutes later. Boone was back to his usual excitable self as he prepared his camera and showed you how everything worked. Between his handheld with the live stream and the several other cameras mounted in the truck capturing video to be edited later, it was actually more complex than you had imagined. It seemed as if you really had underestimated Boone, and that made you feel even worse for involving him in your scheme earlier.

Then suddenly, it was time to roll out. You had been so focused on your behavior that morning that you hadn’t thought about what was about to happen next. As the last of the bags were stowed away in one of the vans and Dexter did one last run down of the current weather patterns, a knot began to form in the pit of your stomach. Telling yourself you would be driving into the middle of a tornado today had been one thing. Now facing the very real fact it was about to happen, you wondered if you should have skipped breakfast. 

On trembling legs, you walked over to Tyler’s truck and reached to open the back door. But just as your fingers closed around the handle, an arm draped itself across your shoulders. “Nuh uh, sweetheart. You’ve got shotgun.” 

You turned to face Tyler, the knot that had been forming in your stomach tightening. “But I thought Boone—”

“Boone can get plenty of footage from the back. But this being your first time wrangling a storm, we want to make sure you have a front-row seat to the action.” Tyler opened the passenger door for you. When you hesitated, he raised an eyebrow. “Unless you’re having second thoughts about riding with us? There’s always room for you in one of the other vans.”

Swallowing hard, you said, “No. I-I can do this.” 

You started to climb in, but Tyler grabbed your arm. Positioning himself so no one else could see you between his body and his truck, he softly murmured, “Listen, it’s okay if you don’t want to. You don’t have to do this to try and prove something to anyone, even to yourself. Just coming with us after the storm like you did yesterday already puts you on the list of the bravest people I’ve ever met. And no one—not me, not your brother—no one can ever take that away from you. But—” he leaned over so the brim of his hat brushed against the top of your head and his thumb caressed your arm “—if you do want to go, I promise I won’t let anything happen to you. It’s your choice.”

The sincerity in his tone left no doubt that he meant what he said. If you decided to ride with Lily or Dani and Dexter instead, there would be no judgment. Tyler wouldn’t look down on you or think less of you for it, and that was all you needed to make up your mind.

Shooting him a grateful smile, you said, “Thanks, but I really do want to do this. And I always feel safe with you, Tyler, so I know this time won’t be any different.”

He grinned. “Alright then. Let’s go wrangle us a tornado.” 

He squeezed your arm one last time before helping you climb into the truck. Then he shut your door and hurried over to the driver’s side. Boone hopped in the back seat with an excited whoop just as Tyler’s door slammed shut.

You quickly buckled your seatbelt—trying to not think about the thick harness you hadn’t noticed the last time you rode up here—and settled back into your seat. But you froze as you looked out the windshield and saw Javi and Scott standing the Storm PAR vehicles still parked next to the main office. They were both staring right at you: Javi’s expression somewhat concerned yet accepting while Scott’s was nothing but pure apathy. 

You wondered if Javi told Scott the two of you had talked last night, though you hoped he kept it to himself. Not for your sake (you doubted it would have changed Scott’s opinion of you) but you didn’t want Javi to put himself into an uncomfortable position playing mediator for his business partner and said business partner’s sister. 

Tyler noticed who you were staring at and asked, “We good to go?”

You sighed. “Let’s do this.”

He nodded and started the engine. Easing the truck forward slowly, he rolled down his window and when he pulled alongside the group from Storm PAR, Tyler shouted, “Hey, Scotty! Make sure you watch the stream today so you don’t miss out on your sister’s first time driving headfirst into a tornado!”

You maintained eye contact with Scott, waiting for him to demand you get out of the truck or refuse to let you do something this dangerous. But instead, he just scoffed as he folded his arms across his chest. “Yeah, I’ll believe it when I see it. She was scared of thunder until she was a teenager. Trust me, she’ll be begging you to turn the truck around before you get a hundred feet from a storm.”

Lowering your eyes, you sunk further into your seat. Not only had he shaken the little confidence Tyler had helped build up in you, but Scott had just revealed something utterly embarrassing to your new friends. It was true that you had cowered under your covers or hidden from all windows in the middle of bad thunderstorms well into your teenage years, but you had gotten past it. However, you didn’t want the people who faced some of nature’s most dangerous weather on a daily basis to know that!

For a long moment, Tyler just stared at your brother. Then, shaking his head, he asked, “What is wrong with you?” before pulling out onto the road. 

Once the motel had disappeared in the rearview mirror, Tyler reached over and rested his hand on your knee. “Hey, don’t listen to him, okay? He’s just trying to get under your skin. You got this.”

You nodded and tried to smile at him, but you could tell it didn’t look as confident as you hoped. 

From behind you, Boone let out a low whistle. “That dude’s really your brother?” You nodded. “Dang, no wonder you decided to hang out with us instead. He sucks.”

The unexpectedness of that assessment caused a burst of laughter to escape your lips. Tyler glanced over, grinning and squeezing your knee. Your smile widened, feeling less forced and more genuine. Looking at the other storm chaser in the visor mirror, you chuckled. “Yeah, Boone. He really does suck.”

Tyler had mentioned he was looking for a smaller EF1 or EF2 for your first time out. However, the storm the Wranglers ame across looked much bigger than that. It was at least twice as wide as the tornado you saw yesterday, yet Tyler and Boone didn’t seem the least bit concerned. If anything, they seemed more excited than you had ever seen them before.

As the sky grew darker and the truck began to sway slightly in the increasing winds, you dug your fingers into the interior of the truck so tightly that your knuckles cracked. Scott was right. You weren’t brave enough for this. What the hell were you thinking wanting to go on a chase? It wasn’t a game. Thousands of people were injured or killed in tornados every year and now you were going to just drive up next to one? Possibly even into one? This was insane!

Seemingly sensing your mounting fear, Boone leaned forward, his head poking between you and Tyler, as he looked at his friend. “You sure she’s ready for this, T? I mean, no offense, but this one might be a little much for someone who's never done this before.”

But Tyler just grinned. “Nah, she’ll be fine. Won’t you, sweetheart?”

You nodded, your eyes wide in terror as you stared at the approaching storm. “Y-yeah. I’ll be fine.” 

Your voice betrayed the anxiety that was flooding every cell of your body, but Tyler reached over and took your hand, prying it carefully off the center console and giving it a tight squeeze. The small gesture instantly caused the panic rising within you to mellow slightly. The idea of what you were about to do still terrified you, but knowing Tyler was behind the wheel made it somewhat bearable. 

He nodded to the harness hanging limply on the sides of the seat. “We won’t need those for a bit, but you might feel a little more comfortable if you strap in now. You know, just in case.”

Immediately, you slipped your hand from his and began fumbling with the harness. It seemed pretty straightforward but seeing how your hands were shaking, it’s more difficult than you initially thought. Without taking his eyes off the road, Tyler reached over and straightened the strap that was twisted across your chest. Then he helped you click it into place before taking your hand once more. However, this time, he raised it to his lips and placed a soft kiss on the back. It was more demure than the kiss he had placed there last night, but it still sent the same thrill through you all the way down to your toes. You quickly glanced in the visor mirror, but luckily it seemed Boone was too preoccupied with getting his camera set up to see what had just occurred. 

Tyler continued holding your hand until rain began pelting the windshield, the storm now looming so large in front of the truck that it seemed to block out everything else. You heard Boone starting his video introduction in the backseat but you didn’t register anything he said as you sat frozen in your seat staring at the approaching storm. It wasn’t until Boone nudged your shoulder rather forcefully that you realized he had been speaking to you. 

Shaking your head, you asked, “What?”

Boone chuckled nervously, glancing from the camera to you. “I said introduce yourself to the chat.”

“Oh, sorry.” You quickly said your name then continued to stare into the lens like a deer caught in the headlights as Boone left it focused on you, unsure of what else he wanted.

Luckily, Tyler came to your rescue. Grabbing Boone’s hand and swinging the camera to focus on him, he said, “Y’all probably remember me mentioning our newest Wrangler in yesterday’s stream. Well, she handled that storm like the pro she is so we thought we’d give her a shot at the main attraction today. Ain’t that right, sweetheart?” 

Tyler winked at you before turning the lens back in your direction. You smiled and nodded. “Yep! We’re gonna…wrangle us a tornado!”

It felt a bit stilted, but the pride and warmth radiating from Tyler as he looked at you made you feel like you had just given an Oscar Award-winning performance. You bit your lip and looked away as you felt the heat rushing to your cheeks. But then you remember what Tyler had said about you hiding your face when someone compliments you so you turn back and look him dead in the eye. The warm look on his face only intensified before he turned his attention back to the road ahead.

A few minutes later as he pulled the truck into the path of the storm, Tyler slowed to a stop. He flipped a few switches on the center console and pressed the red button on top of the joystick positioned there. You heard a whirring sound and the truck seemed to sink into the ground slightly. Tyler must have deployed the augers to lock the truck in place. Dani mentioned yesterday that they had never failed since they were installed and you prayed today wasn’t the day that changed.

But as the edge of the storm grew closer and closer, you felt a fresh wave of terror grip you. Placing both of your feet on your seat, you wrapped your arms around your knees, curling into yourself as much as the safety harness would allow. You focused all of your energy on your breathing, trying your hardest not to start hyperventilating. But as the tornado finally hit the front of the truck, you let out a small squeal and buried your head in your knees.

However…nothing happened. The truck didn’t flip wildly out of control. The windows didn’t shatter into a million pieces. The augers didn’t give out. 

Slowly, you raised your head. The entire truck shook and vibrated around you, the sensation sending tremors throughout your body. Outside, random bits of debris struck the truck but nothing seemed to be able to break through its upgraded structure. As the initial wall of wind passed by the truck and you found yourself deeper into the storm, you actually found yourself relaxing slightly, unfurling yourself where you had tucked into a tight ball. If something bad was going to happen, it would have been when the tornado first hit the truck. Right?

Tyler leaned over until his lips brushed the curve of your ear and he whispered. “Look up.”

You could just make out the words over the howl of the storm but you did what he said. Tilting forward, trembling as your face neared the windshield, you squinted up into the wind. For a moment, all you saw was dirt and debris swirling around. But then you noticed a smaller, tighter vortex dancing through the center almost as if there was a tornado within the tornado. And as you followed this swirl up, you gasped as you caught just a glimpse of the sky peaking through the opening of the funnel. It was one of the brightest blues you had ever seen and it was utterly magical. 

You looked over at Tyler. His face was beaming as he watched you and, in that moment, he was even more breathtaking than the storm. Time seemed to stop and nothing else existed besides the two of you. Not the storm, not Boone, not the camera, nothing.

Your eyes met…then so did your lips. You weren't even really sure who initiated it and you didn’t care. His lips molded against yours perfectly, his tongue dancing across the entrance of your mouth as he tested his boundaries. But when you parted your lips further, he slipped inside as he wrapped his hand around the back of your neck and drew you closer. He tasted like coffee with just the hint of peppermint. And as his stubble scraped across your skin, you hummed at the shiver it sent racing down your spine. 

The kiss was everything you had been imagining and so much more. 

Needing more, you tried crawling across the center console to straddle his lap but something hugging you tightly across your chest stopped you. It was only then that you remembered the harness holding you into your seat. Your fingers scrambled against the buckle, finally unhooking it—

“And they say there ain’t no love in Oklahoma! Well, if that ain’t love, I don’t know what is!”

You and Tyler both jumped apart, startled by Boone’s joyful exclamation from the backseat. Horrified, you realized he had just filmed your kiss and broadcasted it live on the Wranglers’ YouTube channel. You buried your face in your hands, only peeking through the smallest crack to see Tyler’s reaction. 

He ran his fingers through his hair, brushing the fallen strands off his face as he muttered, “Boone–”

But his fellow storm chaser paid him no mind. “You saw it here first! The tornado wrangler himself has been wrangled by a new beau.”

“Boone.”

“And if any of you out there has ever wondered if two people could kiss in the middle of a tornado, I guess we have our answer!”

“Boone!” Tyler shot you an exasperated look and you lowered your hands, chuckling softly at the silliness of the whole situation. It was only then that you also noticed the storm had passed and everything outside the truck was now calm. Too bad the same couldn’t be said for inside the truck.

Tyler reached into the backseat and wrestled the camera out of Boone’s hands. Then, he took a breath and aimed the camera at himself as he plastered on a smile. “Well, I guess that’s it for today, folks. Things took a bit of an unexpected turn but in the middle of a storm, you never know what might happen! Thanks for watching and as always, if you feel it—” he leaned across the center console until his face was next to yours in the shot “—chase it.” And he pressed his lips against yours once again.

You could feel Tyler grinning against your mouth as you returned his kiss. Without pulling away, you reached out and covered the lens of the camera with your hand. The world had seen enough of you and Tyler for one day. However, if you had your way, the two of you were just getting started. 

Part 7 coming 9/23!

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[buckets-and-trees]

Warm Shadows - The Working of Your Hands [4/4*]

Collection: Warm Shadows Chapter Title: The Working of Your Hands Characters/Pairings: Alpha!Bucky x f!Omega!Reader, Alpha!Steve x f!Omega!Reader. Bucky x Reader x Steve Word Count: 15.5k

Summary: With your original Alpha returned to you and your new alpha waiting in the wings, uncertainty can finally be dealt with and whatever the uncharted future will be, at least you can figure out what it will be. Big questions loom, possibilities must be considered, and the chasm of what the three of you have been through must be confronted.

Content Warnings: dark themes and experiences discussed, a/b/o dynamics, angst; explicit smut: oral (m and f receiving), vaginal intercourse, double penetration, unprotected sex

Additional Notes: I've been working on this chapter for a very long time. I finally got some renewed inspiration for it recently, and I originally had hoped to finish it for @biteofcherry's birthday because she's one of the biggest supporters for this story, but it wasn't quite ready for you then darling, so... slightly belated birthday. BUT ALSO! It did so much better than I dreamed it would in my 2200 Followers Celebration poll, actually coming in the top four, so I really kicked things into gear, and thought it would be a fitting gift for ALL OF YOU now that I actually hit 2300 this week!

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

The sun is deliciously warm on your face as you shift and begin to wake up. Your body feels sated and content and initially that doesn’t seem strange, except your heart backtracks when you reach for Bucky only to find empty space on the bed next to you.

Another dream. Again.

Except there’s music playing softly from the little device in your hand – the one Bucky had shared with you!

Your face splits into a massive grin.

What’s more, you can feel the tie to your alpha again. The afternoon floods back into your mind, and you press your fingers over the bonding mark on your neck, warmth radiating through your chest. As you sit up and look around, through the bond you can tell that although he’s not there in the little cottage, he is close by.

So is your other alpha – you can feel him, too.

But that feeling is also different.

The bond between you and this version of Steve had crashed into your being as a hard and rough force. It had remained a hard presence - like a wall - while he kept you with him at the first Hydra facility, but lost the roughness by degrees over those initial weeks. When he worked you through your heat, broke and admitted some of what happened to turn him to the dark Captain Hydra, and orchestrated the escape for the two of you from the second facility, the bond had changed again. The wall morphed to more of what you could only describe as a firm hand against your chest, still holding you at bay, but more of a tangible connection.

And now something has altered it again. It's a hand against your chest, but not pushing up against you.

You know the only feasible reason Bucky would have left you had to have been to confront Steve, and the shift must be due to whatever has happened or words exchanged between them.

You slide of the bed and reach for your scattered clothes to get dressed. Your fingers tremble slightly as you pull them on, the fabric soft against your skin. You focus your senses, attuned to every whisper of movement outside. The wooden floorboards creak softly beneath your bare feet as you pad towards the window, drawing back the thin curtain to peer outside. The late afternoon light streaming through a partly cloudy sky bathes the surrounding forest in a golden glow. A gentle breeze carries the scent of pine and earth and wildflowers, mingling with something distinctly... alpha.

You catch a glimpse of movement between the trees. A flash of metal - Bucky's arm? - glints in the sunlight before disappearing again. Your heart races, the bond thrumming with proximity and anticipation. You press your hand against the cool glass, straining to see more.

Then, like a mirage solidifying, you spot them clearly. Bucky and Steve stand in a small clearing just beyond the treeline, their postures tense but not combative. Even from this distance, you can see the set of Bucky's jaw, the way Steve's hands clench and unclench at his sides. They're talking, but their voices are too low and their distance too far for you to make out any of their conversation.

You watch intently as the two alphas interact with each other. Your mind races with questions. What are they saying? How much more does Bucky know about what happened now? How will this change things between all of you?

Their body language speaks volumes - Bucky's shoulders are squared, his stance protective, while Steve's posture is more open, but far more alert and searching. You can feel the push and pull of their emotions through the bonds, a swirling mix of anger, guilt, confusion, and... hope?

Suddenly, Bucky takes a step forward, his hand outstretched. Steve tenses for a moment, then slowly, cautiously, reaches out to clasp Bucky’s forearm. The gesture is familiar, reminiscent of their old camaraderie, and it makes your heart clench.

As if sensing your gaze, Steve's head snaps up, his gaze locking onto the window where you stand. Even from this distance, you can feel the intensity of his stare. Your breath catches in your throat as a jolt of electricity seems to pulse through your bond. Bucky immediately follows Steve's line of sight, his eyes finding you as well. The intensity of their combined focus makes you shiver. Bucky's expression softens. Steve's face is a mask of conflicting and guarded emotions - regret, longing, and a flicker of the man you once knew.

You find yourself unable to look away, caught in the magnetic pull of their gazes. The air feels charged with potential energy, heavy with unspoken words and simmering emotions, like the calm before a storm breaks. Your fingers press against the glass, leaving faint smudges as you unconsciously lean closer.

Bucky gives a slight nod, his eyes never leaving yours. It's an unspoken invitation, a reassurance. You swallow hard, your heart pounding as you step back from the window. Your bare feet carry you swiftly to the door, hesitating only for a moment before you turn the handle.

The cool air hits your skin as you step outside, goosebumps rising along your arms. The grass is soft beneath your feet as you make your way towards them, each step feeling both too fast and agonizingly slow. The bonds within you hum with anticipation, drawing you forward like invisible threads.

As you near, you can sense there is a tentative, almost cautious, tension in the clearing surrounding the two alphas. Bucky's stance is protective, but not aggressive. He reaches out as you approach, his hand warm and steady as it finds yours.

"Omega," Bucky murmurs, his voice rough with emotion.

You naturally step close to him, drawing comfort from his solid presence, but your eyes go to Steve.

The other alpha remains still, looking continually between you and Bucky, his gaze intense but wary. The air between you all feels charged, crackling with tangled emotions and uncertainty.

Bucky squeezes your hand, and his thumb begins to trace soothing circles over the back of it. "We've been talking. Trying to figure some things out."

Steve takes a hesitant step forward, his eyes never leaving yours. "I..." Steve starts, his voice hoarse. He clears his throat and tries again. "I know I can never fully make up for what I've done. To either of you." His gaze flicks between you and Bucky. "But I want you to know that I'm trying to break free. To be myself again."

You feel a tremor run through you, a mix of fear and hope and something you can't quite name. The bond between you and Steve pulses, no longer unyielding, but rather something more malleable, raw and aching.

“I believe you, Steve,” your voice is soft when start speaking, but as you say each word, it grows stronger. “But I also know it. I’ve seen the glimmers of the alpha we knew before all this bleed through.”

You visibly see Steve’s chest swell a little.

Bucky's arm slides around your waist, grounding you. "Steve and I have spent a long time talking. We've agreed that we need to take this slow," he explains. "For all our sakes. But we also can't ignore what's happened. The bonds..."

"It won't be easy," you say, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions inside you. "There's a lot to work through. A lot of hurt."

Steve nods, his eyes filled with a mix of hope and regret. "I know. And I'm prepared to do whatever it takes. For as long as it takes."

You feel a slight vibration run through Bucky, and you squeeze his hand reassuringly. This is difficult for him too, you know. The alphas' friendship has been tested in ways neither could have ever imagined.

"We take it day by day," you say simply. “Even without the dark pieces, something like this is,” you pause, searching for the right word, “unprecedented logistically. There are no records I’ve been able to find of two alphas claiming the same omega.”

“How did you…?” Steve furrows his brow.

You smirk. “When you left your secondary tablet in our quarters, I figured out the password. I knew I couldn’t access any of the external network, make contact with anyone, or conduct any searches that would seem out of the ordinary, but it was safe to scour the internal database. I couldn’t tell you where we were specifically, but it was evident we were at a priority one research and experimentation facility. Their library was flush with theories and documented studies and countless records in regards to alpha, beta, and omega dynamics, mutualism, and biological networks.”

Bucky’s chest rumbled. “Clever girl.”

You couldn’t help but preen a little. “Thank you, Alpha.”

Steve shifted slightly. Together now, there were new dynamics to feel and figure out. Experiencing and exploring it all would be a constant evolution and experiment for the foreseeable future, uncomfortable as it would likely be more often than not.

But there was also a flicker of admiration that crossed Steve’s face. "That's... impressive. And resourceful."

You shrug, trying to downplay the praise even as warmth blooms in your chest. "It was necessary. I needed to understand what was happening to me. To us."

"And what did you find?" Steve asks, his curiosity piqued.

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. "Not much, to be honest. There were a few theoretical papers, some speculation based on rare cases of polyamorous relationships involving alphas and omegas, some based on relationships that involved betas, but nothing concrete. Nothing like our situation. No omegas documented with bonding marks from more than one alpha."

Bucky's arm tightens around you protectively. "We're in uncharted territory here."

You nod, leaning into his touch. "Exactly. Which is why we need to be careful. Patient." Your eyes meet Steve's, holding his gaze steadily. "We need to relearn each other. All of us."

Steve nods. The air between the three of you feels thick with potential, with possibility and uncertainty in equal measure. You can feel the bonds humming, adjusting, seeking equilibrium.

Bucky is the first to break the silence. "We'll figure it out," he says firmly, his voice leaving no room for doubt.

"Maybe," you start hesitantly, "we could start with something simple. Neutral ground."

Bucky tilts his head, curious. "What did you have in mind?”

You shrug. “Can’t get more basic than the three of us going back into that house and cooking and sharing a meal together.”

The suggestion hangs in the air for a moment, its simplicity almost startling in contrast to the complexity of your situation. Then, slowly, Steve nods.

"I'd like that," he says softly, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips.

Bucky's arm loosens slightly around your waist, his posture relaxing a fraction. "Sounds good to me. Though I hope you both remember I'm mostly still a disaster in the kitchen."

You can't help but chuckle, the sound breaking some of the tension. "At least some things never change. Steve, you still remember how to make that pasta dish? The one with the garlic and olive oil?"

Steve's eyes flare with recognition, a piece of the old Steve muscling through. "Aglio e olio? Yeah, I think I can manage that."

As you turn towards the house, Bucky's hand still in yours, you feel Steve fall into step beside you. The proximity makes your spine tingle, your body hyper-aware of both alphas. The bonds pulse gently, adjusting to this new dynamic.

Inside the small kitchen, you all move cautiously at first, cognizant every second of each other's presence. The space feels too small and too large all at once. You begin gathering ingredients, your movements deliberate as you try to establish a sense of normalcy.

"I'll start on the pasta," Steve offers, his voice low. He moves to the stove, careful not to brush against either you or Bucky as he passes.

Bucky nods, then turns to you. "What can I do? Without burning the place down, preferably."

You can't help but smile at that. "How about you set the table? Plates are in the cabinet over there."

As you all settle into your tasks, a fragile rhythm begins to establish itself. The kitchen fills with the sounds of cooking - water boiling, garlic sizzling, plates clinking. It's pure domesticity, and for a moment, you can almost pretend that everything is normal.

But then Steve reaches past you for the olive oil, and you feel the heat of his body, smell his alpha scent. Your breath catches, and you freeze. Bucky tenses immediately, his eyes darting between you and Steve.

The moment stretches, taut as a bowstring. Steve's hand hovers in the air, caught between reaching for the oil and pulling back. His eyes meet yours, a storm of emotions swirling in their depths. You can feel the pulse of the bond between you, raw and uncertain. He worked you through one of your heats, and that experience was unforgettable and crucial to evolving your dynamic. You slept in the same bed for weeks and weeks now - a platonic but intimate negotiation of proximity each night, trusting in each other to some degree, but the bottom line is that the vast majority of the time has been spent with guards up between you until now. This is new and even though you're optimistic, your veins are laced with uncertainty.

Bucky takes a half-step closer, gauging the dynamics of the situation.

You don’t move, but it also means you don’t shrink or flinch. The tension in the room is palpable, but you're determined not to let it derail this tentative journey.

Steve takes the bottle with a nod, his movements careful and deliberate as he returns to the stove. Bucky remains close, his eyes never leaving you as he resumes setting the table.

As the meal comes together, the tension begins to fade again, replaced by a cautious camaraderie from things you all shared in what seems like a lifetime ago.

You find yourself falling into old patterns, teasing Bucky about his lack of culinary skills and offering suggestions to Steve as he stirs the pasta.

But reality reasserts itself in small ways - the way Steve's hand shakes slightly as he plates the food, the protective stance Bucky takes as he moves around the kitchen, the way your own breath catches when both alphas are near.

As you all sit down to eat, the atmosphere relaxes just a fraction again. You take a bite of the pasta, closing your eyes briefly at the familiar taste.

"It's perfect, Steve," you say softly, offering a small smile. "Just like I remember."

Steve's eyes light up for a moment. "I'm glad I could still make it right."

It’s going to be like this, undulating momentum and regression, but even the surety of that seems to settle your mind in its own way.

The alphas tuck in to their plates as well, and then snippets of conversation begin to flow.

"Remember that time in London when we tried to cook for Peggy?" Bucky says, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Steve chuckles softly, twirling a bite of pasta onto his fork. "How could I forget? Nearly burned down the entire safe house. Neither of us knew how to cook back then."

You feel a smile tugging at your lips, even as a twinge of sadness hits you at the mention of Peggy. "I heard about that. Didn't you two end up ordering fish and chips instead?"

"And swore Peggy to secrecy," Steve adds, a ghost of his old grin appearing.

The easy back-and-forth continues as the alphas plate up more pasta and you reach for more bread.

As you all come to the end of your plates of food, the anecdotes ebb away and a more serious tone settles in.

"We’re going to need ground rules," you say, and they both nod. "But I say we start with this. We cook together, we eat together, we talk while we eat.”

“A good start,” Bucky says at the same time Steve murmurs, “Agreed.”

A small warmth travels through your chest, a modicum of surety.

Steve pushes his plate out of the way and leans forward on the table, his voice low as he speaks. "What else did you find in your research?"

You take a deep breath, organizing your thoughts. "Not much concrete, honestly. There were theories, speculation, but nothing definitive. The closest I could find were some old legends, stories of powerful alphas sharing an omega in times of great need or crisis."

Steve nods slowly, his brow furrowed in thought. "Makes sense. It's not exactly a common occurrence."

Despite all the uncertainty and complications, you can't shake something in your omega instincts that has you just believing that you can count on these two alphas by your side. Back in Brooklyn, the old Steve was the person you had grown to trust and rely on most outside of Bucky, and whoever this version of Steve is evolving into, it’s clear he is resolute in his investment in this future. It wasn’t something that had emerged out of nowhere today. You could look back and trace the threads of it coming together for a long time now.

It’s Bucky who cuts through the silence again. “I have something to share,” he says slowly, but there’s no hint of hesitancy in his words.

You and Steve turn your full attention to him.

“Well, go on, Buck,” the other alpha urges, his tone somewhere between curious, cautious, and suspicious.

Bucky takes a deep breath, his metal fingers tapping a soft rhythm on the table. "Over the last year, before all of this happened, I was already doing some research of my own.”

You lean forward, intrigued. "What kind of research?"

"Pack formations," Bucky says, his voice low and steady. "And how they could theoretically work in our modern world."

Your eyes widen, and you lean forward, intrigued. Steve's brow furrows, but he remains silent, waiting for Bucky to continue.

"It started as curiosity," Bucky explains, his voice low and thoughtful. "I'd been reading about wolf packs, about how they function in the wild. And it got me thinking about our own dynamics as alphas and omegas. How we might be able to form something similar, something more... expansive than traditional pairings."

Bucky pauses, his eyes becoming more intense as he recalls his research. "It started with some old texts I found in Wakanda last year. Stories of warrior tribes, of alphas who shared leadership and omegas who bound packs together. At first, I thought it was just folklore, but the more I dug, the more I found."

You feel a warmth spreading through your chest as Bucky speaks.

"They were rare and hard to find, but I found some fascinating anthropological studies on tribal societies in other parts of the world where multiple alphas and omegas lived together as well. They shared responsibilities, shared child-rearing duties. It was all about balance and mutual support."

The idea is both thrilling and terrifying, but somehow, it feels right, and your mind is already racing with the implications and possibilities.

He pauses, taking a sip of water before continuing. "I reached out to some contacts - anthropologists, historians, even.”

“Why,” Steve suddenly breaks into the flow of what Bucky was saying, “were you looking into pack formations? What possible motivation did you have before… before that night?”

Bucky's eyes lock onto Steve's. The corner of his mouth quirks up in a half-smile, and he shakes his head slightly.

"Really, Steve?" Bucky's voice is gentle, but there's a hint of reproach in his tone. "After all we've been through, you have to ask that?"

Steve's brow furrows, flickers of doubt and confusion crossing his face. Bucky sighs, leaning back in his chair. The wooden legs scrape softly against the floor as he shifts, the sound punctuating the moment.

"You and I," Bucky continues, his voice low and intense, "we've been part of each other's lives since we were kids in Brooklyn. We've shared everything - scraped knees and stolen apples, first crushes and last dances."

His eyes flick to you briefly before returning to Steve. "And then there was the war, and everything that came after. The ice, the fall, decades apart. But even then, even when I didn't know my own name, some part of me knew you. We've always been connected, Steve. Always."

As Bucky speaks, the air in the room seems to thicken with memories. You can almost see them - two young boys laughing in the streets of Brooklyn, two soldiers standing side by side in the midst of the Great War and later the Infinity War.

Steve swallows, and his gaze is locked on Bucky.

“End of the line,” Bucky reminds him. You’ve heard them say that to each other before.

Steve's expression softens as the weight of Bucky's words sinks in. "Buck..." he starts, his voice rough with emotion.

You watch the interplay between them, feeling the bonds pulse with a complex mix of emotions.

Bucky leans forward, his gaze intense. “When everything with the Infinity War was over, when we were both finally free - you from exile and me from the conditioning - and we got to go home to Brooklyn, it did feel like going home, but it was also different. We’d both changed, grown. And then came our omega.” His eyes meet yours, warm and full of love. “Suddenly, it wasn’t just the two of us. It was three, and everything finally felt right for me.”

You feel your breath catch in your throat, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. Bucky reaches out, taking your hand in his. You can’t look away from Bucky in this moment, but you do feel Steve’s eyes on you now, too.

“That’s why I started researching pack dynamics,” Bucky continues. His eyes go back to Steve, his thumb tracing circles on the back of your hand. “I could feel it building, this connection between the three of us. It was more than just friendship, more than just a singular alpha and omega bond. It was… family. Pack.

You feel a warmth spread through your chest at Bucky's words, at the acknowledgment of the bond that had been growing between all of you even before everything changed.

Steve's breath catches audibly. "Buck, I… I didn't know. I never thought…"

Bucky reaches out, his hand resting on Steve's forearm. "I know. And I should have said something sooner. To both of you. But I wanted to understand it better first, to see what the possibilities could be. If we hadn’t ended up like we are now, I felt that you would always fiercely protect us, like I would either of you, and if you’d ever bonded with another omega, it seemed natural that I would have felt about them the way you felt about…”

Bucky falters slightly, unable to finish. He squeezes your hand, and you grip it tightly right back.

You know there will be moments like this where the wound is torn open again, but if the three of you are diligent in working to heal, one day it may only be a scar.

A heavy silence falls over the three of you, the weight of the situation settling on your shoulders. The bonds between you all pulse with a mix of uncertainty and determination.

“So,” you prompt, “I already have two bonds, two alphas, but how would a pack potentially work?”

Bucky takes a deep breath, his eyes flickering between you and Steve. "The most fascinating part of my research was about the bonding of alphas within a pack," he begins, his voice taking on a tone of eagerness. "It's not like the bond between an alpha and an omega. It's deeper, more primal."

He leans forward, an awe glinting in his eyes. "In the ancient texts I found, there were descriptions of a ritual. A blood bond between alphas."

You look at Steve, and your heart leaps because this moment feels like before, when Bucky would launch into an explanation of something he was passionate about, and you and Steve would go on that journey with him because Bucky was fiercely intelligent, and his enthusiasm when he got like this was irresistible. It’s the briefest of exchanges, but it’s like a suture in your heart.

"A blood bond?" Steve asks, prompting Bucky to continue.

Bucky nods, his metal arm gleaming in the soft light of the kitchen. "The alphas would come together under a full moon, usually in a sacred place - a grove, a mountaintop, somewhere with power. They'd bring their pack, their omegas, as witnesses."

As Bucky speaks, you can almost see it - moonlight filtering through ancient trees, the air thick with anticipation and the scent of alpha pheromones.

As he speaks, you can almost see it - the moonlight filtering through the leaves of ancient trees, casting dappled shadows on a forest floor. The scent of earth and night-blooming flowers and alpha pheromones heavy in the air.

"They'd stand in a circle, usually in a place of power - a clearing in an ancient forest, or atop a windswept hill. Each alpha would make a small cut on their palm with a ceremonial blade."

Bucky's voice drops lower, almost hypnotic as he continues, "Each alpha would make a small cut on their palm, then then they would stand in a circle and join hands, mixing their blood. As they did, they'd recite an oath - swearing to protect and provide for the pack, to lead with wisdom and strength, to share in both the triumphs and burdens."

You feel a shiver run down your spine. Steve leans forward, riveted as he listens.

"The texts described it as transformative. They say that as the oath was spoken there under the light of the full moon, a bond would form between the alphas. Not like an alpha-omega bond, but something different. Complementary. It was said to enhance their ability to protect the pack. Some accounts even mentioned shared thoughts or feelings or drawing on each other’s strength in moments of great need.”

"And the omegas?" you breathe, your voice barely above a whisper.

Bucky's eyes meet yours, warm and full of promise. "The omegas were crucial. They were the heart of the pack, the ones who bound it all together. Their presence during the ritual was said to amplify the bond, to make it stronger."

Steve clears his throat, his voice rough with emotion when he speaks. "And you think this could work?”

Bucky's eyes meet Steve's, a fierce determination in their depths. "I think it's worth trying," he says softly. "We're already bonded through our past, and now through our omega. This could complete the circle, so to speak."

Your mind racing with possibilities. The bonds within you pulse with anticipation and a hint of nervousness.

"When?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Bucky glances out the window, his expression thoughtful. "The next full moon is in about two weeks. That would give us time to prepare, to adjust to this new dynamic."

Steve nods slowly, his gaze moving between you and Bucky. “You want this, Buck. I want this. But do you want this, Omega?” he asks, shifting his whole body to focus on you.

Your heart beats loudly in your chest, your eyes searching his blues, his searching yours just as diligently.

“I gave you no choice in changing your reality as an omega before, I will never do that again,” he says so fiercely it feels more like a solemn vow.

The blood running through your veins heats up, surging through you with a new fire. You don’t speak. You don’t have the words to convey everything running through your heart, your mind, your soul.

You push your chair back from the table and stand, eyes still fixed on Steve, your movements deliberate as you approach him. The air between you crackles with tension and possibility. Bucky watches intently, his body coiled with anticipation.

You stand before Steve, your heart pounding in your chest. His eyes never leave yours as you reach out, cupping his face gently in your hands. You can feel the slight tremor that runs through him at your touch.

"Alpha," you say, the word heavy with meaning.

"Omega," he breathes, his voice thick with emotion.

You lean in, pressing your forehead against his. Steve's breath quickens, his hands coming up to rest lightly on your waist. The bond between you pulses, warm and alive.

Bucky stands, moving to join you. His presence at your back is solid, comforting. You feel his hand on your hip, anchoring you.

You slide your right hand from his cheek slowly down the column of Steve’s throat until your fingers rest over the juncture of his neck and shoulder. You rub gently over his mating gland, and it evokes a rumble from his chest.

“We've been through so much, all of us,” finally finding words that feel true to this moment. “And despite everything, we're still here. Still together. I think this is how it was always meant to be."

Your fingers trace the contours of Steve's neck, feeling the steady thrum of his pulse beneath your touch. Steve's eyes, deep pools of blue, search yours intently, the ever-growing storm of emotions swirling within them - hope, fear, longing, and something deeper, primal.

You can feel the bond between you and Bucky pulsing with encouragement and love, supporting you in this moment.

Time seems to slow as you lean in closer to Steve, your breath mingling with his. You nose down his neck, and he groans when you scent him. The smell of him is a mix of leather, pine, and something uniquely alpha – and all of it familiar. It fills your senses, making your head spin. Your omega instincts finally surge forward, finally feeling the safety you needed, recognizing your alpha, yearning to complete the bond that has been forming between you.

Steve's hands tighten on your waist, his fingers pressing into your skin through the thin fabric of your shirt. You can feel the slight tremor in his touch, a mix of trepidation and longing.

You can see the pulse beneath his skin, feel the heat radiating from the spot. You lock eyes with Steve again, asking the silent question. The moment stretches, taut as a bowstring.

Steve tilts his head to the side, offering his neck to you.

Your heart races at the gesture of trust and submission, more surety that he’s relinquishing the dark part that had taken over him. You brush your lips against his skin, feeling the rapid pulse beneath. Steve's breath hitches, and his hands tighten on your waist. Your tongue darts out, and you taste the salt of his skin.

"Omega," Steve implores. His scent intensifies, filling the air with pheromones that make your head spin.

Finally, your teeth sink into his flesh, claiming him. The taste of his blood floods your mouth, rich and coppery. Steve’s connection to you - that wall which had been only slowly thawing - suddenly melts away as you bonding yourself to him opens your soul to him. When he’d taken you by force, it had been a physical bond that you couldn’t deny. But an Omega claiming an Alpha in return? It wasn’t unheard of, but it was a ritual that signified a mutual decision of acknowledging only the deepest, purest connections, true partnership between Alpha and Omega.

A deep, guttural groan escapes his throat, reverberating through your body. As you release your bite, you lick the wound gently, soothing it. Steve wraps an arm around you, pulling you flush against his body, and you settle yourself into his lap.

Bucky's hands squeeze your hips, continuing to ground you as you're swept up in the intensity of the moment, but there’s also something primal you sense in the pressure now. You can feel his approval through your existing bond, supporting you as you form this new connection with Steve, but there’s another element there, too. It feels like hunger.

Steve's eyes meet yours, dark with desire. His other hand cups your cheek, thumb brushing over your lower lip. The air between you is electric, charged with anticipation. Slowly, he leans in, his lips meeting yours in a tender kiss. It's soft at first, almost hesitant, but quickly deepens as you respond eagerly.

Your fingers thread through his hair, pulling him closer as the kiss intensifies. His tongue traces the seam of your lips, seeking entry, and you grant it willingly. The taste of him is intoxicating, familiar yet new all at once. A soft moan escapes you as his hands roam your body, igniting sparks wherever they touch. You can feel the evidence of his arousal pressing at your core, your clothing separating your sex from his. The kiss deepens, becoming more passionate as you both give in to the intensity of the moment.

Suddenly, you feel Bucky's presence behind you more acutely. His chest presses against your back, his breath hot on your neck. "Omega," he growls, his voice low and husky with desire.

You break the kiss with Steve, turning your head to look at Bucky over your shoulder. His eyes are dark with lust, his pupils blown wide. Without hesitation, you reach for him, pulling him into a fierce kiss. Steve's hands continue to roam your body as you kiss Bucky, creating a sensory overload that has you moaning into Bucky's mouth.

“Let’s take her to bed, Buck,” Steve’s words are less of a suggestion and more of a command.

You break the intense kiss with Bucky, turning to face Steve. His eyes are filled with a primal hunger, his alpha instincts taking over. Without a word, he stands up from the chair, pulling you up with him.

Bucky falls into step with the other alpha, and they’re across the small cottage with you next to the bed in seconds.

Steve’s hands, Bucky’s hands, your hands - all three sets work to tug and strip of shirts and pants and undergarments - frenzied yet efficient, until you’re all three naked. Their touch is electrifying and immediately roaming your bare skin, igniting sparks wherever they go. The air is filled with heavy breathing and low growls as they begin to worship every inch of your body.

Steve picks you up effortlessly and lays you down on the bed before climbing on top of you. His mouth seeks out one of your breasts while his hand fondles the other one.

Bucky kneels beside the bed and takes one of your legs in his hand. He trails kisses up from your ankle all the way up to your thigh before finally reaching his destination - your core.

His tongue flicks out teasingly at first before delving deeper into your folds. You gasp at the sensation, arching into his mouth. The combination of their touches has you already on edge, but it's not long before Bucky's expert tongue brings you over that edge.

You cry out, one hand fisting the sheets and the other tangling in Steve’s hair as you come undone.

As you come down from your first orgasm, both alphas shift their positions. Steve moves up to capture your lips in a searing kiss, while Bucky replaces him at your breasts, lavishing them with attention.

Your body hums with pleasure, every nerve ending alive and tingling. You can feel the heat of their arousal pressing against you, their hard cocks at either hip, their scents mingling in the air - a heady, almost overwhelming combination.

"Alpha," you moan, not sure which one you're addressing, or if you mean both. Your hands roam over their muscled bodies, tracing scars and planes of hard muscle.

Steve breaks the kiss, his eyes dark with desire. "Tell us what you want, omega," he growls, his voice low and commanding.

You whimper, overwhelmed by sensation and need. "I want... I want both of you," you manage to gasp.

“You have us, ‘mega,” Bucky assures you, murmuring the promise against your skin with the kisses and licks to your breasts, his vibranium hand squeezing the soft flesh of your inner thigh.

Steve shifts his position, moving between your legs. His eyes lock with yours, seeking permission. You nod, breath catching in anticipation. He enters you slowly, letting you adjust to his size. The stretch is exquisite, filling you completely. A low moan escapes your lips as he begins to move, setting a steady rhythm.

As Steve continues his slow, deep thrusts, Bucky moves up the bed, positioning himself near your head. His cock stands proud, hard and glistening with precum. You lick your lips in anticipation, your eyes meeting his with a look of hunger.

Bucky's metal hand cups the back of your head, cool against your heated skin, guiding you gently towards his length. You part your lips, taking him into your mouth with a moan of pleasure. The taste of him explodes on your tongue - salty, musky, and uniquely him.

You swirl your tongue around the head of his cock before taking him deeper, hollowing your cheeks as you suck.

Bucky's metal hand applies gentle pressure on the back of your head, not pushing, but guiding. As you relax your throat to take him deeper as he nudges more and more insistently, he places his flesh hand over your neck, feeling himself fill you with his length.

"Fuck, Omega," he growls, his voice rough with pleasure. "Your mouth feels too good."

You moan around him, the vibrations making him shudder. Neither of your alpha super soldiers are in any kind of hurry. Their actions are deliberate, but it’s clear the only thing they both want in this moment is to be inside of you.

Your body is alive with sensation, caught between the two alphas as they pleasure you. Steve's thrusts grow more intense, his hips snapping against yours with increased fervor. Fervor but not speed, and each thrust pushes you further onto Bucky's cock, creating a rhythm that has you moaning around him.

Steve's hands grip your hips tightly, sure to leave bruises, as he drives into you, and you want it.

"So tight, Omega," he groans against your sternum, his voice strained with pleasure. "You feel so good around me."

Bucky's metal hand threads through your hair, guiding your movements as you take him deeper into your throat. His flesh hand remains on your neck, feeling the bulge of his cock as it slides in and out. The dual sensations of being filled at both ends has you trembling with pleasure.

"That's it," Bucky encourages, his voice husky. "Take us, sweetheart.”

The praise sends a shiver down your spine, your inner omega preening at the approval of your alphas.

Both of them.

Yours.

The thought makes you whimper.

"Ready for my cum, Omega?" Bucky pants, his voice strained with pleasure.

You feel the first pulses as he throbs in your mouth, and you moan, blinking up at him, eyes watering but encouraging him to spill inside you.

"Fuck, you're perfect," he swears, and then his hips stutter and he groans as he begins to spill his release down your throat.

Your omega purrs in contentment as you swallow some of his seed, relishing in the taste of him. But before he finishes, Bucky pulls out of your mouth and pushes at Steve's shoulders to move quickly.

Steve understands immediately and pushes up with one hand, his other still gripping your hip. Then Bucky is fisting his cock, shooting the rest of his spend over your breasts, your chest heaving as your lungs greedily gulp in oxygen.

Bucky leans over you, his metal hand cupping your face as he kisses you deeply. You open your mouth to him eagerly, tongues tangling. His other hand moves to your breasts to rub the sticky mess of his cum over your tender flesh. He moans in what you can feel through the bond is satisfaction at the taste of himself on your lips and the primal marking of your chest. You indulge in the kiss you’re in desperate need for air, and push gently against him. He presses a kiss to your cheek, then pulls away and kneels above you to watch.

"You look so good taking his cock," Bucky remarks as Steve continues to thrust into you with precision.

Your pussy clenches at his words, and Steve groans in response.

“You should let her ride you, Steve,” Bucky continues. “She’s a glorious sight like that.”

Your heart stutters, and you look up at Bucky, only somewhat incredulously. And that satisfied curve of his lips, so familiar, makes your stomach rush with butterflies, and you chirp for him.

“Oh, that’s a sweet sound,” Steve exclaims in a rush, and before you can think another thought, another chirp bubbles up out of your chest, and you’re tumbling as in one fluid motion Steve flips your positions so he’s on his back and you’re above him, still impaled on his cock.

You suck in a breath at the feel of the new position. It causes his cock to hit new angles inside you. Your hands brace against his chest as you adjust, feeling the solid muscle beneath your palms. Steve's hands grip your hips, guiding you as you start to move.

Bucky is already languidly fisting his cock as he watches you, half-hard again, your ever-insatiable alpha with next to no refractory period due to the serum that enhanced his body in every way.

And now you have two of them.

You begin to roll your hips, finding a rhythm that has you both moaning. The new position allows you to control the depth and speed, and you revel in the power it gives you. Steve's eyes are dark with lust as he watches you move above him, his gaze roaming over your body.

Bucky moves behind you, his hands sliding up your back. You feel his lips on your shoulder, then your neck, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin. He presses his chest against your back as his hands come up to cup your breasts. He kneads the soft flesh, rolling your nipples between his fingers. The dual stimulation has you moaning, your movements becoming more urgent.

You lean back against Bucky's chest, your head falling onto his shoulder as you continue to ride Steve. The new angle allows Steve to thrust up into you deeper, hitting that spot inside you that makes you forget anything else on the face of the earth, and still it seems he’s in no rush to get to his release.

Bucky turns your head, demanding your lips for more kisses again, and you mold your lips to his. He strokes your tongue with his tongue, mimicking the way he had had his mouth on your other lips earlier. He’s always eager to kiss you until you can’t breathe, driving you to that light-headed pleasure once more.

You’re panting, your entire body trembling with need as Bucky breaks off the kiss and presses a hand to the small of your back, urging you forward. You know what he wants, and you readily comply, lowering yourself down onto Steve’s chest.

Bucky moves behind you, his hands spreading the round cheeks of your ass to expose your tightest hole. He presses the head of his cock against the puckered ring of muscle, eliciting a gasp from you as he starts to slowly push inside. He’s taken you like this before, but never with another cock in your cunt at the same time. You feel stretched in the most delicious, almost impossible ways. Bucky slowly fills you up, his cock sliding deeper and deeper into you until he is buried to the hilt. He stays still for a moment, allowing you to adjust to his size before starting to move.

He sets a slow pace at first, sliding in and out of you with long strokes that have you moaning between them. You can feel every inch of him rubbing against sensitive nerve endings inside you, driving your arousal higher and higher.

Steve had stilled his movements, in awe and happy to pause in order to watch with increasing lust and need in his eyes. Once he sees Bucky has settled into a rhythm, Steve adjusts to work in tandem with him, thrusting up into you again.

You can feel every inch of them inside you. Bucky picks up speed, but Steve maintains his earlier slow pace. Wanting him to let go, you set your mouth to the fresh bonding mark you gave him and suck insistently. He growls, and you get exactly what you want, as his hips snap faster and harder, both men pounding into you with a rhythm that has become almost primal.

"Alpha... alph-ah!" You cry out their names incoherently as the orgasm hits with full force. Your release crashes over you like a wave, making your body tremble with its intensity. But before it can fully ebb away, Bucky's hand slips between your bodies and finds your clit, rubbing it in tight circles that send another wave of pleasure through you. Your vision goes white as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you, your back arching as your muscles simultaneously strain and revel in the ecstasy.

Steve follows soon after, giving one final thrust before he's filling you with his hot release. Bucky is right behind him, and fills you with another load.

As you catch your breath, Steve pulls out of you and lays back on the bed, spent. Bucky, still inside you, leans down to kiss your neck as he slowly pulls out as well. You shift so you’re only draped over half of Steve, pressed into his side, one leg bent up over his hip, and Bucky presses up behind you. You feel them drip out of you between your thighs, the mess trickling over Steve’s thigh and down onto the sheets, but no one seems to mind or care.

After a few minutes of basking in the afterglow, Steve sits up and looks between the two of you. “We should get cleaned up.”

You nod in agreement and Bucky chuckles before getting up as well. The three of you head to the bathroom together, sharing kisses and some heated touches as you clean each other off under the warm spray of a quick shower.

The alphas change the sheets while you towel your hair dry and brush your teeth.

You collapse onto the fresh linens, feeling utterly spent but deeply satisfied. Your body hums with residual pleasure as you settle into the middle of the bed. Both men come to join you on either side of the mattress, but before Steve can, you turn to him and put your arm out over the spot he is about to occupy.

“Wait!”

Steve tilts his head, a small frown taking over his face.

“Will you open the window?”

He arches an eyebrow.

“Please?” you give him the softest, most pleading eyes that you can.

He shakes his head, but then smiles and strides away to go open the front window, moving quickly to satisfy your request. Your chest warms, and you realize it’s not Steve’s willingness to do something you ask - he’s been a much more dutiful companion since you two escaped from Hydra - but it’s because it’s the first time you have seen him genuinely smile since all of you were back home in Brooklyn.

What’s more, as Steve returns to the bed and slides in next to you, your mind considers that this is the first night you will have shared the bed with Steve. You had slept on the same mattress for weeks - at first with you refusing to even get under the covers - but even last night, it was still a functional practice. Tonight, you want to feel his presence close by, the intimate sharing of a space while you’re both vulnerable in sleep, and you want it with him as much as you want it from Bucky.

Today transformed everything, and for the first time in months, you feel unquestionably safe.

You curl into his side, resting your head on his chest, and Bucky presses up against your back. His metal arm drapes over your waist, cool against your bare skin. He presses a kiss to your shoulder, and Steve trails his fingers back and forth in soothing patterns over your arm. The bonds between you and your alphas pulse with contentment.

You lie there in comfortable silence for a while, basking in the afterglow and the warmth of your alphas. Moonlight filters through the gauzy curtains, casting ethereal shadows that dance and sway with each gentle breeze. The antique clock on the dresser ticks steadily, marking the late hour.

The cool night air drifts in through the open window, carrying with it the scent of pine, earth, and wildflowers, and being held so warmly between your two alphas, you nearly drop off to sleep, when they start talking.

It’s Steve who speaks first, his voice tinged with a hint of uncertainty. "Do you really think this pack bond will work?"

You feel Bucky shift behind you, propping himself up on one elbow to look at Steve over your shoulder. "I do," he says firmly. "We've always been stronger together, Steve. This just makes it official."

You trace lazy patterns on Steve's chest as you consider their words.

"He's right," you murmur, your voice soft but sure. "We've always been meant for this, I think. Even before... everything." You pause, gathering your thoughts. "Back in Brooklyn, it always felt like we were more together. Something bigger than just friendship or traditional bonds."

Steve's hand finds yours on his chest, intertwining your fingers. "I felt it that, too," he admits quietly.

“Family,” you hum.

“A pack.”

"In the morning, we should start planning for the ritual," Bucky murmurs, his voice a low rumble against your back.

You nod sleepily, your eyes already heavy. "Mmm, good idea," you mumble.

Steve's chest rises and falls with a deep breath. "We'll need to find the right location," he says thoughtfully. "Somewhere with meaning for all of us."

Bucky hums in agreement. "And we'll need to gather the necessary items. The ceremonial blade, for one."

You're drifting off, lulled by their voices and the warmth of their bodies, but you manage to add, "Don't forget the full moon. Two weeks..."

Your words trail off as sleep claims you, nestled safely between your alphas. The last thing you're aware of is Steve pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead and Bucky explaining some of the beliefs about the energy of a full moon and the significance of this coming full moon in particular.

Exhausted but also content for the first time in months, you sleep all the way through the night.

The sun is just beginning to peek over the horizon when you stir, consciousness slowly returning. You're enveloped in warmth, cocooned between two solid bodies. For a moment, you keep your eyes closed, savoring the peaceful feeling.

Bucky's metal arm is still draped over your waist, his chest pressed against your back. You can feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing, indicating he's still asleep. On your other side, Steve's hand rests on your hip, his body curled protectively around you. Their scents mingle in the air around you, a comforting cocoon of alpha pheromones that makes your omega purr with contentment.

You blink your eyes open, adjusting to the soft morning light filtering through the curtains. The room is bathed in a golden glow, giving everything an almost dreamlike quality. For a brief moment, you wonder if this is all a dream - if you'll wake up back in a cold Hydra facility.

But then Steve shifts beside you, his hand tightening on your hip. His blue eyes flutter open, immediately finding yours. A soft smile curves his lips as he takes you in.

"Good morning, Omega," he murmurs, his voice rough with sleep.

The sound sends a shiver down your spine. You return his smile, feeling a warmth bloom in your chest. "Good morning, Alpha.

As you and Steve exchange soft morning greetings, a gentle "meow" breaks the quiet. Your eyes widen in delight, and Steve's head turns towards the sound. There, at the foot of the bed on Steve's side, a graceful white cat has just leapt up and landed with the lightest of touches. Her fur is pristine, almost glowing in the golden morning light filtering through the curtains.

The cat's sapphire blue eyes blink slowly at you both, her tail swishing gently behind her.

“Hi, sweet girl,” you coo at the feline who has been coming around the cottage more and more often the past few days. You stretch your arm out and beckon her to come closer, meowing at her.

She stretches languidly, arching her back and extending her paws, before padding softly up the bed. Her movements are deliberate and elegant, each step barely making an impression on the blankets.

The cat pauses near Steve's hip, tilting its head as if assessing the situation. Its whiskers twitch slightly, picking up the subtle changes in the air currents caused by your breathing. Then, with a soft chirp, she steps up onto Steve’s hip, and then she settles in the small space between you and Steve. You brgin to lavish her with head scratches and soft pets. Her purrs vibrate against your chest. Steve watches with a mix of amusement and wonder, his hand coming up to gently stroke her silky fur.

"I didn't know we were expecting a visitor," he murmurs, his voice still husky from sleep.

You smile, continuing to scratch behind the cat's ears. "She's been coming around more often lately. You’re usually up and out for a run when she drops in for her morning visit. I think she likes us."

The cat's purrs intensify as she receives attention from both of you. Her sapphire eyes close in contentment, her paws kneading gently against the blankets.

Behind you, Bucky stirs, his arm tightening around your waist as he nuzzles into your neck. "Mmm, too early for talking," he mumbles sleepily.

You chuckle softly at Bucky's sleepy grumbling. "We have a visitor, Buck," you say, your voice warm with amusement.

Bucky grunts and props himself up on one elbow, peering over your shoulder. His eyes widen slightly as he takes in the sight of the white cat nestled between you and Steve.

"Well, hello there," he says, his voice still rough with sleep. The cat opens one eye to regard him before closing it again, clearly unimpressed by the interruption to her petting session.

Bucky reaches over you to gently scratch under the cat's chin. She leans into his touch, ready to indulge more attention, her purrs intensifying. "Friendly little thing, aren't you?" he murmurs.

Steve laughs softly. "This,” he explains to Bucky, “is why our omega wanted a window left open overnight. Had to make sure our familiar intruder could come in. I think she's made herself quite at home.”

You nod, continuing to stroke the cat's soft fur. "She has. I've been thinking we should keep her.”

The cat stretches lazily, rolling onto her back to expose her fluffy white belly. Her paws knead the air as she basks in the attention from all three of you.

"Keep her?" Bucky asks, his voice soft.

You nod, a hopeful smile on your face. "If you both agree, of course. She seems to have chosen us already."

Steve's hand stills on the cat's fur as he considers. His eyes meet yours, then Bucky's, before returning to the contented feline between you. "It would be nice to have a pet," he muses. "Something normal, after everything."

Bucky hums in agreement. "Plus, cats are good for stress relief. And lord knows we could all use some of that."

The cat chooses that moment to roll back over and stretch, her paws reaching out to knead gently against the duvet. Her sapphire eyes blink slowly at Steve, as if sealing her approval of this arrangement.

Steve chuckles, running his hand along her sleek back. "I think that settles it. She's stays with us."

You beam, your heart swelling with happiness. "She needs a name," you say, scratching behind her ears.

Bucky props himself up on his elbow, his metal arm still draped over your waist. "How about Alpine?" he suggests.

The name feels right, and you nod. "Alpine. I love it."

Alpine purrs contentedly, seeming to approve of her new name. She stretches again, her white fur gleaming in the morning light, before curling up in a tight ball between you and Steve.

"I think she's made herself right at home," Steve says with a soft chuckle, his hand gently stroking Alpine's back.

You smile, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at the domestic scene. It's such a stark contrast to where you were just weeks ago - trapped in a Hydra facility, uncertain of your future. Now, here you are, nestled between your two alphas, with a cat curled up beside you. It feels like a dream.

The room falls into a comfortable silence, broken only by Alpine's soft purrs and the gentle rustling of leaves outside the open window. The morning light grows stronger, casting a warm glow across the bed.

Bucky nuzzles into your neck, his stubble tickling your skin. "Breakfast?" he murmurs, his voice still husky with sleep.

“I thought I might go for a run first,” Steve says.

“You should,” you respond.

“I know we said meals together, but–”

You smile softly at Steve. "We'll wait for you to get back," you reassure him. "It's going to be important for all of us to have routines."

Steve's eyes soften with gratitude. He leans over, careful not to disturb Alpine, and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. "I won’t be long," he murmurs against your skin.

With careful movements, Steve extricates himself from the bed. Alpine mewls in protest at the disturbance but quickly settles back down, curling into the warm spot Steve left behind.

You curl back into Bucky's warmth. His metal arm tightens around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. You can feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat against your back.

"How are you feeling?" Bucky murmurs into your hair, his voice low and intimate.

You take a moment to consider Bucky's question, assessing your body and emotions. "I feel... good," you say softly, a hint of surprise in your voice. "For the first time in weeks, I feel safe. Whole again."

Bucky hums in approval, his metal fingers tracing lazy patterns on your hip. "I'm so glad, sweetheart."

You turn in his arms and snuggle closer to him, burying your face in the crook of his neck and inhaling his comforting scent. Alpine stretches and repositions herself against your back, her purrs a soothing vibration against your skin.

“I haven’t forgotten everything that has happened,” you explain, “but I don’t want to hold onto all of that forever. I think we have solid ground between all three of us to move forward.”

Bucky squeezes you tightly. “I think so, too.”

You pull your head back so you can see his face, your eyes searching his. "What about you, Buck? How are you feeling about all of this?"

His blue eyes are soft as they meet yours. "Honestly? I feel like a person again. I shut everything off until I finally saw your face yesterday."

You reach up to cup his cheek, your thumb brushing over his stubble. “We both needed each other.”

“Are you upset I didn’t say anything about the pack to you before?”

You only pause for a moment, looking for the right words. “No, before the incident, you were still researching. Yesterday, I think you wanted to assess the situation with Steve before you put it out there for either of us to consider.”

He smiles. “Always my smart omega.”

You chirp, and he kisses you.

The movement shifts Alpine again, but this, apparently, is the last she’s willing to suffer a disturbance, and she saunters away and hops up into a nearby windowsill where she settles into a loaf so she can soak up all the direct morning sunlight uninterrupted.

“I know I’m only going on gut instinct with Steve, but with my eyes wide open, I don’t feel like I’m wrong.”

You trace your fingers over his forehead, soothing his furrowed brow. “I think you can trust your gut. There’s something I didn’t tell you yesterday when it was still just us.”

“Oh?”

“I think I was waiting to see how you two would handle each other. But I found something…”

You slip out of his arms and roll out of the sheets. When your feet his the floor, you duck down next to the bed, lift the mattress slightly, and reach between the mattress and the boxspring, sliding your hand in until your fingers find and latch onto what you’re looking for. You stand back up and show Bucky.

“Why was there a pillowcase wedged under the mattress?” he asks.

You toss it to him, and he catches it easily. “Smell it.”

He cautiously takes a whiff, and then his head snaps back to you. “This is-”

“Yep.”

He takes a longer inhale of the soft fabric.

“It’s your pillowcase, Buck. He was regularly going on missions while we were at the first Hydra facility - not significantly long ones, usually only a day, once there was a two-day absence, but he was gone when you broke into the facility and they evacuated me away. He knew my heat was coming up. He went to our home in Brooklyn, and he brought something back that smelled like you, something small and innocuous that he could hide both from me and from Hydra. I didn’t realize it was there at first. Everything happened so quickly and I was in a pre-heat mess, then in heat. But once we were here and settled, I realized that as impossible as it should have been, there was a trace of your scent here. I found it while he was on one of his morning runs. He went to considerable trouble to go and bring me something that smelled like you.”

Bucky's eyes widen as he processes what you're telling him. He brings the pillowcase to his nose again, inhaling deeply. His scent mingles with the faint traces of yours and Steve's, creating a complex blend that speaks of home and pack.

"He did that. For you." Bucky's voice is soft, tinged with a mix of wonder and something like resolve.

You nod, settling back onto the bed beside him. "I think a part of him was fighting against the conditioning even then. He knew how much I needed you, how much having your scent nearby would comfort me. He was an alpha taking care of his omega."

Bucky is quiet for a moment, his fingers tracing the edges of the pillowcase. When he speaks again, his voice is thick with emotion. "That's our Steve. The one we knew before all this. He's still in there."

You crawl back up on the bed and lean against his chest, his arm coming around to hold you close. The weight of his metal arm is comforting, grounding. You both sit in contemplative silence for a few moments, the only sound in the room Alpine's soft purrs from her sunny perch.

"I refused to acknowledge it at first," you say softly. "But as the weeks wore on, there were little chips in the armor - his and mine - and I could see the small shifts. The Steve we knew is still there. He's fighting his way back to us."

Bucky presses a kiss to the top of your head. "And we'll be here to help him every step of the way."

You nod, feeling a renewed sense of hope blooming in your chest. The morning light continues to strengthen, filling the room with a warm glow. You can hear birds chirping outside, the world coming alive with the new day. It feels like a metaphor for your own situation - emerging from a long, dark night into the promise of sunlight and warmth again.

You and Bucky remain cuddled together in comfortable silence for a while, lost in your own thoughts. The morning light grows stronger, casting long shadows across the room. Alpine stretches lazily in her sunny spot on the windowsill, her white fur appears almost ethereal as she basks in the warmth.

The scent of dew-kissed grass and blooming flowers drifts in through the open window, carried on a gentle breeze that rustles the curtains. You can hear the distant calls of birds greeting the day, their songs a melodic backdrop to the peaceful morning.

As you lie there, your mind wanders to Steve, out on his morning run. You picture him jogging along the winding forest paths and country roads, his powerful strides eating up the miles. He’s been gone for almost an hour, and you know he should be returning soon based on the previous days as you’ve been in this cottage together.

“I think I want to go meet Steve on his way back and go for a walk with him. Do you mind?”

Bucky presses a kiss to your cheek. "Of course not, sweetheart. Go ahead. I'll start on breakfast for when you two get back. Nothing complicated," he says with a wink.

You smile gratefully, giving him a quick peck on the lips before sliding out of bed. As you dress in comfortable clothes suitable for a morning walk, you can hear Bucky moving around behind you, the soft rustling of sheets as he gets up.

As you're lacing up your shoes, Alpine hops down from her perch and winds herself around your ankles, meowing softly.

"Sorry, sweet girl," you coo, reaching down to scratch behind her ears. "You stay here with Bucky. I'll be back soon."

You give Bucky one last smile before heading out the door. The morning air is crisp and invigorating as you step outside, filled with the scents of pine, the aspen trees, and wildflowers that you have grown fond of here over the last week. Dew clings to the grass, sparkling in the early sunlight. You take a deep breath, filling your lungs with the fresh, clean scent, and step off the porch.

The forest around you is alive with the sounds of birds and small animals going about their morning routines. Sunlight filters through the canopy of leaves overhead, dappling the path before you with patches of golden light.

As you walk, you let your mind wander, reflecting on the events of the past few weeks. So much has changed in such a short time - and even more in the last twenty-four hours. You've gone from being a captive, wounded and betrayed, uncertain of your future, to being here in this peaceful place with both of your alphas. The thought brings a warmth to your chest.

You've been walking for about ten minutes when you catch Steve's scent on the breeze. Your heart quickens a little in anticipation. A moment later, you hear the steady rhythm of his footfalls approaching. As he rounds a bend in the path, his eyes lock onto yours and a slightly hesitant smile spreads across his face.

"Good morning," he says as he slows to a stop in front of you. He's slightly out of breath, a light sheen of sweat glistening on his skin. "This is a welcome surprise."

“I wanted to talk, just us.”

Steve's smile softens, a mix of gratitude and nervousness flickering across his features. "Of course," he says, gesturing to the path ahead. "Shall we?"

You nod, falling into step beside him as you continue down the winding forest trail. For a few moments, you walk in companionable silence, the only sounds the crunch of gravel beneath your feet and the melodic chirping of birds overhead.

"How was your run?" you ask, breaking the quiet.

"Good," Steve replies. "Helps clear my head." He pauses, then adds softly, "Gives me time to think about... everything."

You nod, understanding. "There's a lot to process."

Steve hums in agreement. "I keep expecting to wake up and find this has all been a dream. Or a nightmare, and that I'm back... there." His voice trails off. “Or that I’m back in Brooklyn and none of this had happened. But it has.”

Steve's fingers tentatively reach out to intertwine with yours, his grip firm but gentle. "I know I have a lot to make up for," he says softly, his eyes fixed on the path ahead. "I hurt you both so much."

"Steve," you say, tugging on his hand to make him stop and look at you.

He meets your gaze, his blue eyes filled with a mix of emotions - guilt, hope, and something deeper that makes your heart skip a beat.

"We've all been through hell," you continue. "What happened wasn't your fault. You were being controlled, manipulated. Yes we were hurt, even devastated. But the fact that you fought against it, that you're fighting your way back to us? That’s all I care about now, and I know Bucky feels the same.”

His blue eyes search yours, vulnerability clear in his gaze. "How can you forgive me so easily?"

"Because I know you, Steve Rogers.” Your bring your free hand up to cup his cheek. “I know your heart.”

Steve leans into your touch, his eyes closing briefly as he savors the contact. When he opens them again, they're shining with unshed tears.

"I don't deserve you," he whispers. "Either of you."

You shake your head. "That's not for you to decide. We choose you, Steve. We want you."

He takes a shaky breath, his hand coming up to cover yours on his cheek. "I want to be worthy of that choice."

"You already are," you assure him. "But I know it'll take time for you to believe that."

Steve nods, a look of determination settling over his features. "I'll spend every day trying to make it up to you both. To be the alpha you deserve."

"Just be you, Steve,” you whisper. You lean in and press a soft kiss to his cheek.

“I feel like the weight of all this will never truly go away,” he confesses.

“The work of healing is hard, but you won’t do it alone.”

He groans your name, and you can feel the guilt masking as irritation.

“And I think we should get help,” you press. “And I think we should go back to Wakanda to get it.”

Steve turns away and starts pacing. You watch him for a moment, his agitation clear in the tense set of his shoulders. You know this suggestion isn't easy for him to hear, but you also know it's necessary.

"Alpha," you say gently, stepping into his path to halt his pacing. "Look at me, please."

It’s not like an alpha command, but you know the unique power an omega can invoke for an alpha to listen to their request.

"Wakanda?" Steve asks, his voice tinged with surprise and a hint of wariness. He stops pacing and turns back to face you. The turmoil in his eyes is evident. "Why Wakanda specifically?"

You take a deep breath, choosing your words carefully. "They have the most advanced technology and medical expertise in the world. If anyone can help us navigate the aftermath of what Hydra did, it's them. Plus," you add softly, "they've helped Bucky before. They understand the complexities of deprogramming and healing from that kind of trauma."

Steve's brow furrows as he considers your words. You can see the conflict playing out across his face - the desire to heal warring with his ingrained instinct to protect and isolate.

"I understand why you're suggesting this," Steve says slowly, his eyes meeting yours. "But I'm not sure I'm ready to face… everyone. To be around other people."

You step closer to him, placing a gentle hand on his arm. "We wouldn't have to see anyone we don't want to. Wakanda is a big place, and I'm sure T'Challa would respect our privacy. We could stay somewhere secluded, just the three of us, and only interact with the medical staff when necessary."

Steve's shoulders relax slightly at your words, but you can still see the tension in his jaw. "What about Bucky? Have you discussed this with him?"

You shake your head. "Not yet. I wanted to talk to you first. But I think he’ll agree it's a good idea. He knows better than anyone how helpful Wakanda can be for recovery."

Steve takes a deep breath and nods, processing for another moment.

"You're right," he says finally, his voice soft but resolute. "We can't – I can't do this alone. And Wakanda does have resources we couldn't find anywhere else."

You reach out and take his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "And a deep kinship you and Bucky established. That matters."

He nods, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "It does," he agrees, squeezing your hand in return.

"There's something else I wanted to talk to you about," you say, your voice soft but steady.

Steve's brow furrows slightly, a mix of curiosity and concern crossing his features. "What is it?" he asks gently.

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself. "I found the pillowcase," you say softly, watching his face carefully for his reaction.

Steve's eyes widen in recognition, a faint blush creeping up his neck. "Oh," he breathes, his gaze dropping to the ground. "I wasn't sure if you'd noticed."

You step closer to him, your hand coming up to rest on his chest. "Why did you do it, Steve?"

He's quiet for a moment, his eyes fixed on a point in the distance. When he speaks, his voice is barely above a whisper. "Because even when I couldn't remember who I was, who you were to me... I knew I had to take care of my omega, and I knew you needed him."

“That, the clothes, the books, forcing me to accept my heat naturally so I didn’t experience a dry heat, mounting our risky but well-calculated escape… I think it speaks to more than being my alpha. You did them because you’re still you. I think it’s time for you to start believing that, too.”

His hand comes up to cover yours on his chest, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. "I want to believe that," he says softly. "But sometimes it feels like I'm still fighting against the programming, like I could slip back at any moment."

You shake your head, your free hand coming up to cup his cheek. "You won't," you say with conviction. "You're stronger than that, Steve. And we won’t let you get lost. I think it’s another thing becoming a pack will help."

Steve leans into your touch, his eyes closing briefly as he savors the contact. When he opens them again, there's a new resolve in his gaze.

"You're right," Steve says, his voice growing stronger. "We're stronger together. And if becoming a pack will help us all heal and move forward, then that's what we need to do."

You smile up at him, feeling a warmth bloom in your chest at his words. "I'm glad you feel that way. I think it's the right step for all of us."

He nods, pulling you into a tight embrace. You melt into his arms, breathing in his comforting scent. For a moment, you just stand there, holding each other in the quiet of the forest.

You tilt your head back to look up at Steve, taking in the strong line of his jaw, the curve of his lips, the intensity in his blue eyes. The sunlight catches in his hair, turning it to spun gold. Your heart quickens as his gaze drops to your lips, his pupils dilating slightly.

Before he claimed you as Captain Hydra, the Steve before - the Steve you knew in Brooklyn - had grown to be one of your closest friends. Next to Bucky, he was the person you trusted the most. There had been such a safety with him. There had never been a romantic twist or temptation, just a steadfast bond that formed.

But now, now that he's not the terrifying alpha who forcefully bonded you, but now that he's becoming Steve again and is your alpha? Your heart is starting to beat for him now, too.

Time seems to slow as Steve leans in, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. His touch is gentle, reverent, as if he's afraid you might disappear if he holds you too tightly. You can feel the warmth of his breath on your skin, and his thumb gently traces the line of your cheekbone. The tenderness in his touch sends a shiver down your spine.

Your eyes flutter closed as Steve's lips meet yours in a soft, hesitant kiss. It's gentle at first, almost chaste, but as you respond, melting into him, the kiss deepens. Steve's arm wraps around your waist, pulling you flush against him as his tongue traces the seam of your lips, seeking entry.

You part your lips with a soft sigh, your hands coming up to tangle in his hair. The kiss grows more passionate, a slow burn igniting between you. Steve's scent envelops you, a heady mixture of pine, clean sweat, and something uniquely him that makes your omega purr with contentment.

When you finally break apart, you're both breathing heavily. Steve rests his forehead against yours, his eyes still closed as he savors the moment.

This feels like your first true kiss - the one that will matter for your future.

"We should head back," he says. "Bucky's probably wondering where we are."

You nod, taking his hand as you start walking back towards the cottage.

When the cottage comes into view, you see Bucky sitting on the porch steps, his metal arm glinting in the sunlight, and Alpine curled up next to him. He looks up as you approach, a mixture of relief and curiosity crossing his features.

"There you are," he says, standing up as you draw near. "I was starting to worry."

Steve gives him a reassuring smile. "Sorry, Buck. We’re good."

Bucky's eyes flick between you and Steve, taking in your joined hands and the lingering flush on your cheeks. A knowing smile tugs at the corner of Bucky's mouth. "I can see that," he says, his voice warm with affection. "Everything okay?"

You nod, squeezing Steve's hand. "Yes. Actually, we have something we'd like to discuss with you."

Bucky's eyebrows raise slightly, but he nods, gesturing towards the door. "Let's head inside then. We can talk over breakfast."

The three of you make your way into the cozy cottage. Alpine trails along as well. You note how quickly she has gravitated to Bucky, and you can’t help but grin. Breakfast is simple, but the three of you move together in the kitchen to quickly pull things together, then bring it all to the table and set in.

"So," Bucky says, his steel-blue eyes moving between you and Steve. "What do you want to discuss?"

You set down your piece of toast and swallow. “Wakanda.”

Bucky's eyes widen slightly, his fork pausing halfway to his mouth. "Wakanda?" he repeats, his voice a mix of surprise and curiosity.

Steve nods, and you reach out to place a reassuring hand on Bucky's arm. "We’ve just been talking about it, Buck. We think it might be good for us to go there for a while."

Bucky sets his fork down, his brow furrowing as he processes this information. "For treatment?" he asks softly, his eyes meeting Steve's.

You lean forward, your voice gentle but firm. "For all of us, Bucky. We all need time to heal, to adjust. And Wakanda has resources we can't find anywhere else."

Bucky's gaze shifts to you, his expression softening. "You're right about that," he admits. "The time I spent there, well, even in just two weeks there it helped more than the time I spent trying to fix things on my own the two years before that.”

Bucky is quiet for a moment, his eyes distant as he processes this information. You can almost see the gears turning in his head, weighing the pros and cons.

"It's a good idea," he says finally, his voice soft but certain. "Wakanda would also be an appropriate place to perform the pack rites and rituals. And..." he pauses, a small smile tugging at his lips, "I miss Shuri's jokes about my arm."

You and Steve both laugh. Steve was going to be your tougher sell, but you’re still relieved Bucky is sold on the plan. Having a plan is reassuring, and there are many more plans you all need to discuss this morning.

“Wakanda is perfect, actually. I’ll reach out to Shuri and see if they could even send one of the Dora Milaje to come escort you there and keep you safe until Steve and I follow and join you.”

“What?” you asked, not anticipating this suggestion at all.

Bucky looks at Steve. “We have loose ends to clip.”

Steve nods.

"Absolutely not!" you protest, your voice rising. "We're not splitting up. We just found each other again."

Steve reaches out, placing a calming hand on your arm. "It's just for a short time," he says softly. "We need to make sure there's no trail leading back to you, to us. Bucky and I can handle it quickly and efficiently."

You shake your head, feeling a knot of anxiety forming in your stomach. "No. We're stronger together. Isn't that what we all agreed on?"

Bucky leans forward, his eyes meeting yours. "Omega, we're trying to protect you. To protect our future together. If there's even a chance someone could track us down..."

You feel a chill run down your spine at the edge in Bucky's voice. You know exactly who he's talking about - the people responsible for what happened to Steve.

"I understand why you want to do this," you say, looking between them. "But I can't just sit safely in Wakanda while you two put yourselves in danger. We face it together."

Steve's jaw tightens. "No, Omega. Not this time. There’s no question about this - it's too dangerous."

You feel a surge of frustration and hurt at his words. "I'm not some useless and fragile thing that needs to be protected, Steve."

Bucky reaches out, taking your hand in his. "Omega, you’re one of the strongest people I’ve ever known. This isn't about you being fragile. This is about Hydra, and we need to know you're safe while we take care of them."

You pull your hand away, standing up abruptly. "And what if something happens to you? What if you don't come back? I can't lose you again. Either of you."

Steve stands as well, moving around the table to pull you into his arms. You resist at first, but eventually melt into his embrace. "We will come back," he murmurs into your hair. "I promise you. We've been through too much to lose each other now."

You cling to him, breathing in his scent, trying to calm your racing heart. "I hate this," you whisper. "I hate feeling helpless."

Bucky comes up behind you, sandwiching you between him and Steve. His metal arm wraps around your waist, cool against your skin. "You're not helpless," he says softly. "You're our anchor. Our reason for coming back."

You turn your head to look at him, seeing the determination in his steel-blue eyes. "Promise me," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "Promise me you'll both come back."

Bucky's eyes soften as he meets your gaze. "We promise," he says, his voice low and fervent. "We'll always come back to you."

Steve nods, his arms tightening around you. "Always," he echoes, his breath warm against your ear.

You feel a shiver run through you at their words, at the intensity in their eyes. The air around you seems to thicken, charged with an electric tension that makes your skin tingle.

Bucky leans in, his lips brushing against your neck. "Let us show you," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that sends heat pooling in your belly. "Let us prove our promise."

Steve's hand comes up to cup your cheek, turning your face towards him. His blue eyes are dark with desire as he captures your lips in a searing kiss. You melt into him, your heart yearning for this, even though you know they can’t guarantee their promises, only their intentions.

You need this.

The air grows thick with the scent of arousal as Steve's lips find your other side, trailing soft kisses along your jaw.

"Yes," you breathe, tilting your head to give them better access. "Show me."

In a fluid motion, Steve lifts you into his arms, carrying you towards the bedroom. Bucky follows close behind, his eyes dark with desire. As Steve gently lays you on the bed, Bucky's hands are already working at the buttons of your shirt.

"We've got you, Omega," Steve murmurs, his fingers tracing the curve of your cheek. "We'll always come back to you."

Bucky's metal hand slides under your shirt, cool against your heated skin. "You're ours," he growls softly, nipping at the sensitive skin of your neck. "And we're yours. Always."

Your breath catches as their hands and mouths explore your body, peeling away layers of clothing. Steve's lips trail down your collarbone while Bucky's metal fingers dance along your inner thigh, sending shivers of pleasure through you.

"Please," you gasp, arching into their touch. "I need you both."

Steve pulls back, his eyes dark with desire as he meets your gaze. "We're here, Omega. We've got you."

Bucky's hand slides up to cup your face, turning you towards him for a deep, passionate kiss. You moan into his mouth as Steve's fingers find your most sensitive spots, teasing and stroking with expert precision.

Your body arches as waves of pleasure wash over you, Steve and Bucky's touches setting every nerve ending alight. Their scents mingle in the air - pine and metal, sweat and arousal - surrounding you in a cocoon of desire and comfort.

Bucky breaks the kiss, trailing his lips down your neck as Steve moves lower, his mouth replacing his fingers. You cry out at the sensation, one hand tangling in Steve's hair while the other grips Bucky's metal arm.

"That's it, sweetheart," Bucky murmurs against your skin. "Let us take care of you."

Steve hums in agreement, the vibration sending shockwaves through your body. Your hips buck involuntarily, seeking more contact.

Bucky's flesh hand finds your breast, kneading gently as his thumb brushes over your nipple. Steve tenderly kisses and licks your cunt, while Bucky’s mouth latches onto your other breast. Then, Bucky moves down the bed and spreads your legs wider to make room for both of your alpha super soldiers. He begins kissing up your inner thigh, and then they take turns giving you pleasure in your most intimate area, worshipping your sex until you’re dripping, writhing, and begging for more.

Steve moves to the head of the bed, his eyes dark with desire as he watches you. With gentle hands, Bucky flips you over, guiding you onto your hands and knees. You shiver in anticipation as you feel Bucky's strong hands grip your hips, positioning you. The cool air of the room kisses your heated skin, making you shiver with anticipation.

Bucky's metal hand trails down your spine, leaving goosebumps in its wake. "You're so beautiful like this," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. Steve cups your face tenderly, his thumb tracing your bottom lip.

You gasp as Bucky slowly enters you from behind, stretching and filling you deliciously. Steve's hand tangles in your hair, gently guiding your mouth to his hardened length. You eagerly take him in, moaning around him as Bucky begins to move.

The room fills with the sounds of pleasure - skin against skin, breathless moans and whispered endearments. Bucky's thrusts are deep and measured, each one sending sparks of pleasure through your body. Steve's fingers massage your scalp as you work him with your mouth, your tongue swirling around his tip.

"That's it, sweetheart," Bucky growls, his grip on your hips tightening. "You feel so good."

Steve's breath hitches as you take him deeper. "Perfect," he murmurs, his voice strained with pleasure. "So perfect for us."

"Are you ready for us, Omega?" Steve asks, his voice thick with need.

You nod eagerly, your body thrumming with desire. "Please," you breathe, looking up at Steve through your lashes. He dips down to take your lips in a brief, possessive kiss.

Your body trembles with anticipation as Steve pulls away from your mouth, his hand guiding you back into position. You moan around him, loving the feeling of being filled by both of your alpha super soldiers.

Bucky's thrusts become more urgent, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he picks up the pace. "You feel so good," he growls.

Steve's fingers dig into your hair as he begins to move faster in your mouth. You eagerly take him in, wanting to please both of them. The intensity of having them both inside you is almost overwhelming, but it's a the kind of overload that you need right now.

As they move together in tandem, you feel yourself reaching the edge. Then you're lost in a haze of pleasure with your release. All you can think about is how they fill you physically, and how they consume every inch of your soul now as well.

Bucky's thrusts become more erratic as he buries himself deep inside you one final time before finding his release. His grunts and groans mix with Steve's moans as he comes undone in your mouth.

Feeling the vibrations from their orgasms only heightens your own pleasure. Your walls clench around Bucky as waves of ecstasy pulse through your body.

The three of you collapse onto the bed in a tangle of limbs and racing hearts. Breathing heavily, Bucky pulls out and collapses next to you while Steve rests against the headboard.

You lay there for several moments, catching your breath and basking in the afterglow. Steve's hand gently strokes your hair while Bucky's metal arm drapes protectively across your waist. The room is quiet except for your collective breathing gradually slowing to a normal pace.

"I still don't like the idea of being separated," you murmur, breaking the silence.

Steve sighs softly, his fingers still carding through your hair. "We know, sweetheart.”

Bucky presses a gentle kiss to your shoulder. "It won't be for long. Just enough time for us to tie up loose ends and make sure no one can track us."

"I understand," you say softly, "but I still wish there was another way."

Steve leans down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. "We'll be as quick as we can," he promises. "And we'll stay in regular contact."

Bucky nods in agreement. "You know we won't take any unnecessary risks. The goal is to get back to you as soon as possible."

You sigh, snuggling closer to both of them. "I know. I trust you both. It's just... after everything we've been through, the thought of being apart again is terrifying."

"We feel the same," Steve murmurs, his arm tightening around you. "But this is to protect our future. To make sure we can live without always looking over our shoulders."

Bucky's metal fingers trace soothing patterns on your skin. "You’re strong, Omega, this will be nothing compared to,” Bucky pauses, and you feel both alphas tense.

“Compared to what I put you through,” Steve finishes.

You turn to face Steve, cupping his cheek gently. "That wasn't you," you say firmly.

Steve's eyes are still haunted as he meets your gaze. "But I still did those things. I still hurt you."

Bucky reaches over, placing a hand on Steve's shoulder. "We've both done things we regret under Hydra's control. But we're free now."

You nod, pressing a soft kiss to Steve's lips. "And we're moving forward. Together."

Steve pulls you closer, burying his face in your hair. You can feel the tension slowly leaving his body as he breathes in your scent.

"We can't change the past, but we can shape the future," Bucky reminds him.

"You're right," Steve murmurs after a moment.

“I know, punk. You’re the one who told me that over and over and over. I’ll remind you as many times as you need, because that’s what you did for me.”

"Thank you," Steve says softly, his voice thick with emotion. "Both of you. I don't know what I'd do without you."

You snuggle closer to Steve, feeling Bucky press against your back. The warmth of their bodies and the mingling of your scents creates a cocoon of comfort and safety.

"You'll never have to find out," you murmur, pressing a kiss to Steve's chest.

Bucky hums in agreement, his metal arm draping over both you and Steve. "Till the end of the line, remember?"

"How could I forget?" Steve chuckles softly, the sound rumbling in his chest. “Omega,” his voice turns serious again, “you woke me up from the nightmare, helped me shed the specter of Captain Hydra; and yesterday you anchored me back to my true self again, Buck.”

Your heart both aches and soars, and you have to kiss him. When you break off, Bucky reaches for Steve’s head, and then he presses their foreheads together over your shoulder. It’s an intimate moment between all of you that you don't want to break, and so you don’t and neither do they.

You lie there in silence for a while, basking in the afterglow and the closeness of your alphas. Despite the lingering anxiety about the upcoming separation, you feel safe now. You feel loved now. You never want to leave this now.

“I’ll go,” you finally whisper. “But can it be tomorrow? For one more day, please let it be like this, here, just us.”

Steve and Bucky exchange a glance over your head, a silent conversation passing between them in an instant. After a moment, they both nod.

"Of course, Omega," he says softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "We can have one more day here, just us."

Bucky's arm tightens around you, pulling you closer. "We'll make the most of it," he murmurs, his breath warm against your neck.

You feel a wave of relief wash over you. One more day of peace, of being together, before facing the challenges ahead. You snuggle deeper into their embrace, savoring the warmth and comfort of their bodies.

"Thank you," you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. Bucky buries his face in the crook of your neck, Steve’s hand moves from your hip up your side, and you get lost in them again.

go to the double epilogue: THE DAWN HAS COME

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

Ah! I'm just! Final chapter finally getting to share it with you all! It's been such a long journey! Thank you for those who have been waiting patiently. I hope you're feeling all the things!

[azen13]

CW: Yandere Themes, Power Imbalance, Mind Control

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Yandere!Zhongli, despite his nature as the Archon of Geo, isn't as restrictive as one might think at first. Quite the opposite, actually. He'll say it himself, as he forces you to stay still in his strong arms, trapped inside his Adeptal Domain. He wishes he could give you more privileges, but he simply can't trust you.

Of course, you press him about this, you say he can trust you. With no other option but to fight for any scraps of freedom you can get, you're willing to grovel on your knees for anything, as much as you hate yourself for doing so.

At the sight of your desperation, Zhongli has to mask the way the corners of his lips twitch up, eyes predatory, draconic instinct seeping through a human facade. With the flick of a hand, a thick roll of paper pops into existence in front of your head. The very end of it unfurls, revealing what looks like a place where a signature is written.

For a contract.

Sign it, Zhongli says, and he will grant you multiple privileges listed in the contract: he'll allow you to leave his Adeptal Domain when possible, write to your family and friends, leave you alone for a set time if you so desire, and more listed in the contract.

Your hand itches for the crystalline, amber pen floating next to the contract, beckoning you to write your name, but you control the urge. You've already been played for a fool by a foe you once called a friend, and you won't fall for his foul ploys any longer.

So, you pull the contract to unfurl it. The paper flows like water, gushing across the floor like a wild stream down the bed to the floor, across the bedroom, through the door, into the kitchen, continuing on, and on, and on. It seems like days go by until finally, the contract is fully unscrolled.

Zhongli is less than pleased at your wariness, a disappointed sigh echoing through the still room. He had hoped you would be less uncooperative, but he will allow you a day to read the contents of the contract. After all, time is of the utmost importance, even for the immortal.

You glare at the god, but know that you cannot allow anger to cloud your mind. With only a day to read such a dense document, there's no time to spare.

When you look down to start reading the contract itself, though, your eyes widen in confusion.

The words on the paper are almost kaleidoscopic, warping and twisting and forming new phrases every second. One moment, you think you can read "the"; the next, those same letters have become "remain". Looking back up, Zhongli has a pitying smile on his face. "Dearest treasure, do you see now that this game is a fruitless endeavor?" He asks, a hand reaching to brush against your jaw, sliding tenderly across your skin. "I would not lie to you about these things. I have never lied to you," he says.

For a moment, you almost mistake his tone as kind, like you almost mistook everything about Zhongli—a polite, cultured gentleman who turned out to be a possessive, obsessed dragon—until you realize how patronizing his words are. You want to curse him to the Abyss and back, but hold back your hatred. "I'd prefer to read the contract." You look back down, and begin attempting to decipher the undulating paragraphs.

Hours pass by, and you've made no progress. Through it all, Zhongli has stayed by your side, whispering cloying words in an attempt at disarming your defenses. You've managed to stay strong in the face of his unending patience though.

But while you're smart, Zhongli is a god, with thousands of years of knowledge ingrained in his mind. And he knows eventually, one argument will break you down. So, he keeps trying.

"Time is running out, my sweet. But before this offer disappears, I will give you one last chance to sign," he says. "Besides, even if I am being dishonest about the contents of the contract, can things really get worse than this? At least by signing the contract, there's a chance your circumstances may improve."

His logic is sound, drowning out the dissonant thoughts scrambling your mind. You hate the idea of agreeing with Zhongli, but at this point, it's hard to see a reason not to sign it.

With trembling fingers, you pick up the pen. It's slightly warm in your hand, the way a rock in the afternoon sun would be. Smiling like he knew this would happen all along, Zhongli makes a motion with one hand, causing the contract to begin rolling up. After waiting several moments, all that's left unrolled is the space where you will sign your name.

The pen slashes against the paper, marring it with an ink-black scar that reads your name.

Then you feel it. The lightness in your chest, as though you're untethered to the world around you. Thoughts in your mind begin to pop like soap bubbles, fear dissipating into pure nothingness. You can hardly hear your spouse chuckling over the absolute blankness blanketing your mind.

Yes, Zhongli would allow you many more freedoms now. After all, you had sold your mind, body, and soul to him. Escape was impossible. You were clay in his hands, and he would mold you into a perfect, obedient lover.