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trensu · 1 year ago

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Some more of stasis in darkness. you have no idea how many times i've written this scene. i discarded three or four different versions of it before i came up with this one. i feel like this version worked best for the characters. or at least i hope they feel in character.

It was the ninth night.

Steve took his usual spot before the shrine. He greeted his god as he had before but decided tonight was going to be a quiet night. He didn’t have much to say so he’d simply let his faith burn bright in his silent vigil.

Hours passed, and again the strange man didn’t show up as he had been the nights prior. This time, Steve didn’t bother putting it off. He decided to do a perimeter check. As he stood, however, a cacophony of squeaks and beating wings filled the air.

A massive colony of bats burst into the clearing. They moved shockingly fast as they neared Steve and the shrine. Steve ducked his head under his arms but let the bats come. He ignored the little Robin in his head yelling about rabies. He couldn’t risk hurting one of his god’s favored creatures.

There were so many of them, more than Steve had ever seen in his life. They flew round and round dropping altitude until they coalesced at the foot of the shrine. The din stopped as abruptly as it had started. When Steve could no longer hear a single squeak or feel wings zipping overhead, he lowered his arms. Cautiously, he lifted his head, eyes drawn immediately to the shrine to check for any damage.

Not a single bat remained. Instead, the strange man sat, cross legged, at the statue’s feet. He wore a dark cloak comprised of deep navies, bruising purples, and an inky black. Each color slowly, gracefully shifted and melted one into another, again and again before Steve’s eyes. Flecks of light littered it in familiar formations. The clasp that secured it around the man was a bright silvery white. It was shaped exactly the same as the waning moon above.

“Ta-da!” the man said, fluttering his hands in a showman’s gesture.

Steve took in the man's appearance. The ratty travel clothes, the cloak of constellations and its clasp…Steve leapt back in shock. Everything suddenly clicked into place very quickly to paint a very unflattering picture of himself. He whirled around. He couldn't face the shrine.

"Shit," Steve's voice was loud with a stunned sort of panic as he remembered the events of the past week. He paced anxiously. "Shit, shit. It was y–the whole time, you were–FUCK. How did I miss–and even if you weren't you, you were still a traveler in the night and I treated you like–I'm a fucking idiot. I'm the stupidest man alive, how–"

"Probably from getting dropped on the head so much, huh?" the man asked with that same annoyingly self-satisfied voice he'd been using every night. The annoying stranger with his annoying questions and his stupid smug tone.

Mindlessly, Steve turned on his heel to glare at the man. He jabbed an accusatory finger in his direction, frustration flaring.

"Oh, you can fuck right off, man," Steve replied reflexively. "I am having a crisis!"

A split second later, he felt his stomach drop to his feet. This wasn't just a stranger talking. He backpedaled hard.

"Oh, ohhhh no, I didn't mean that, Lord, I-I wasn't thinking."

The man exploded into raucous laughter. It shook his whole body until he doubled over from the strength of it. He continued to laugh when he toppled off the side of his perch and landed with a thunk on the ground. The man sat up, wheezing and wiping at his face, mirth clearly keeping him in a choke-hold.

"Oh, far be it for me to interrupt your crisis," the Lord of Night forced out amidst the laughter. He flapped a hand at him. "Please, continue."

The god attempted to regain composure but all that did was turn his full bellied guffaws into snorting giggles. Steve waited, his anxiety fading in the face of the god’s genuine good humor. It took another couple of minutes before the god calmed enough to pop back to his feet and climb back onto the plinth. The man made himself comfortable at the foot of his own statue as he had before.

"So how goes the crisis?" he asked mischievously.

"On hold," Steve said evenly, fighting back the start of a smile. The man said nothing but still radiated amusement. Steve crossed his arms over his chest. "Are you really the Lord of Night?"

"The one and only!"

“And you’ve been here the whole time?”

“Yep!”

“So why didn’t you say anything? I mean, I talked to you every night! I don’t get it.” Steve paused as a thought occurred to him. “Was this a test?”

“Uh…yes? Yes.”

Steve narrowed his eyes. The god shifted in his seated position. It reminded Steve of the time Dustin shattered a jar of his most expensive hair product and tried to hide it. Dustin had squirmed guiltily under Steve’s expectant gaze until he confessed to his dastardly crime. Apparently, the method worked on gods as well.

“Okay, it started more as an attempt to get you to leave me alone,” the Lord of Night admitted.

“Oh.” It came out blankly, which Steve was grateful for, because he felt like he’d been kicked in the chest by a mule. “You don’t want me.”

Steve wasn't sure why he was surprised. This was a classic Steve problem. He tamped down the old familiar sting of rejection. Steve knew going in that this had been a possibility. It was a god’s right to reject an offering.

“I never wanted any holy warriors,” the Lord of Night corrected. “Hence the attempt to make you leave.”

Steve supposed that lessened the blow a little. It was an impersonal rejection. That was better, right?

"If you didn't want me as your holy warrior you could've just said," Steve said ruefully.

“You seemed pretty determined to come back, though.”

“Only because I thought you’d want to, like, use me for something. If you’d asked me to, I would’ve stopped bothering you. I could’ve gotten someone else who could worship you better,” Steve said, trying to keep his voice light and unaffected.

"Yeah, I really don’t think you could have,” the Lord of Night said in a strained tone.

“No, I mean it,” Steve insisted. “I told you, Robin and Dustin wanted to come along. They would make sure you’re not alone again. You would like them. They pick up on stuff faster than me. They’d be good worshipers.”

“That’s not what I meant. Your worship was, uh, it was…no, nevermind, forget that. The thing is, the more you came back the more I…”

The Lord of Night trailed off. He tugged his dark starry cloak around him tighter. When he spoke again, he seemed to have switched tracks entirely.

"Look, I don't know exactly how the holy warrior thing works, but you guys do quests for your gods, right?"

"Well, yeah, that's the whole point. We're your boots on the ground. We do acts in your service to spread your faith. Like priests but less boring."

The god snorted which made Steve grin.

"Priests are so boring," the Lord of Night agreed.

Things went quiet again. The cloak of constellations made it hard to see his god, but Steve got the impression that the Lord of Night was fidgeting. Steve remembered the conversation from a few nights before, about nervousness and not knowing what to do. Steve fell back on his social graces, his good old Harrington charm, and carefully picked something that would encourage the god to speak.

"I can't believe I didn’t see it,” Steve said, with a self-deprecating shake of his head. “Like, I know I'm not the smartest guy around but I didn't think I was that slow."

"Don't worry about it,” the god replied instantly, breaking out of his internal reverie. “That's not on you. I didn't want you to notice, so you didn't."

"Oh."

"Yep. And, it's not like I have a face to remember, so, y'know. You're good."

"I guess that does make me feel bet–wait. What do you mean you don’t have a face?” Steve squinted at the Lord of Night.

“Well, I don’t know if you’ve heard, but I lost my name,” the Lord of Night said with a hint of irony. “No name, no face.”

“But I saw it,” Steve insisted.

“Did you?” the Lord of Night asked, amused. He slid off the plinth and walked up to Steve until he was only three feet away. The god lowered his hood without any flourish. “What do I look like?”

Steve squinted at him studiously. The god was pale as moonlight and had hair as dark as the night itself; as for the rest of him…it was the strangest thing. Steve knew there was a pair of eyes under a brow. There was a nose above a mouth. He knew the right features were in the right places. However, he couldn’t tell if the eyes were dark or pale. He couldn’t say whether the nose was large or small. The mouth could be thin or it could be full.

“I don’t know,” Steve relented. The Lord of Night nodded.

“Yeah, me neither.”

“Is…is that the quest? To find your name?” Steve asked, dread pooling in his belly. That quest would involve a lot of reading and…he didn’t even know. Language things? General research, for sure. None of which Steve was particularly good at.

“That’s a bit presumptuous of you,” the Lord of Night smirked. He didn't give Steve a chance to apologize. “But yeah, there’s something important that needs to be done. I’m not strong enough to do it myself and I’m running out of time to do it.”

“I can do it,” Steve responded. “I’ll do it for you, my Lord.”

“You don’t even know what the quest is,” the god said wistfully.

“But I know you wouldn’t ask me to do anything cruel or unfair.”

“You’re unbelievable,” the Lord of Night muttered under his breath. Steve didn’t think he was supposed to hear that so he kept quiet. In a louder voice, the god resumed. “Okay, are you sure you wanna do this? Be a holy warrior? Because you could be literally anything else. You told me you liked cooking during one of your prayer sessions. You could open up a restaurant! Restaurant owners don’t usually die in the line of duty or whatever.”

Steve resisted the urge to roll his eyes. This is what Steve trained for, what he was good at, and he wanted to put those skills to use.

“You said you needed help to do something important. I want to be the one that helps you. I want to be your warrior. I can do it, I know I can. I won’t let you down.” Steve bit his lip uncertainly as a thought struck him. "If you don't think I'm worthy–"

“It’s not about worthiness!" The god cut in. "Do you know what it would mean to be my holy warrior? The weight of the night sky, with all the stars and the moon, will be on your shoulders for as long as you walk the land. I don’t know much about holy warriors but I remember this: there’s no take-backs. You can’t just quit and go off to become something else later.”

“Yes, I know. We covered this in lectures at school. It wasn’t all swordplay," Steve said impatiently. "I did think about it once I finished training and I decided if I could find a god to pledge myself to, I didn't want to be anything else. Then I found you."

“...Okay. If you're sure, then okay,” the Lord of Night said decisively. “So what do I have to do? How do I make you mine?”

“Um, I think it’s different from god to god?” Steve stuttered, heart thumping at the god’s words. “But I guess we can do our own thing? I’m pretty sure it’s the intent that matters most.”

"I can work with that." The Lord of Night gestured downward. "Kneel, kneel. I have an idea of what to say.

"Should I close my eyes or something?" Steve asked once he’d gotten to his knees.

"Nah, this is good," Lord Night said.

The god squared his shoulders and straightened his spine. Then, something miraculous happened. The Lord of Night spoke his name aloud.

“Steve Harrington.”

It was the first time his god ever said his name; it was stunning in a way Steve couldn’t begin to comprehend. A bolt of lightning down his spine. A roaring forge in his chest. A whirlwind in his lungs. It felt like all of that simultaneously, yet nothing like that at all. How could pitiful human speech hope to encompass the intensity of a god’s undivided attention; his god’s specific acknowledgement of a primitive life such as his?

Tears sprang unbidden in Steve’s eyes. He became aware how lowly and frail his own body was, and how utterly insignificant his existence was in the vastness of the stars in the sky. He curled forward, hiding his face and making himself as small as he could. He could not bear his god seeing his mortal failings and imperfections. It would invite an exquisite, holy agony Steve surely wouldn’t survive.

“Oh,” the Lord of Night breathed. “I forgot how that could feel to a human. I’ll try not to do it again.”

“No,” the word tore out of Steve’s throat without any conscious thought. “No, please. Please, my Lord.”

Steve didn’t even know what he was begging for because the singular attention of a god was agony but the thought of his god leaving him filled him with terror. He shattered, left with no purchase save his god’s words. Then there were arms around him, pulling him close, and enveloping him in constellations. Steve’s vision blurred. Great, heaving sobs overcame him as though ripped from his very soul. The Lord of Night murmured comfortingly.

“Alright, there we go,” he said softly. “I’m here, Steve. I see you in the night, every night. The stars shine for you, Steve. The moon turns its face for you. I’m with you, Steve.”

The words crashed into him with the unrelenting force of ocean waves. They swept his footing from underneath him and sent him spinning endlessly, endlessly. They lifted him upwards and sent him plummeting down until he was deep below the surface where the currents finally slowed. Surrounded by eternally burning stars, he was left weightless and suspended in an unearthly calm. The words rang in his skull with the surety and strength only a celestial being could claim.

Somewhere between an eternity and no time at all, Steve came back to himself feeling overexerted, though he hadn’t moved from where he knelt. Steve’s heart and soul had been scraped out of his chest, put between a pestle and mortar before getting unceremoniously dumped back in his weak flesh, but in a weirdly good way. His sobs subsided. His breathing came in and out slowly.

Eventually the cloak of constellations released him as well. He blinked his eyes open gradually to see his god kneeling before him at arm's length, palms resting on Steve's shoulders. Steve felt a stab of shame at having brought his god down low to a mortal's level.

“Sorry. I’m sorry,” Steve croaked. “Do you still–? Can I still be–?”

“No, yeah,” the Lord of Night said straight away. “That was on me. Not your fault at all. I’m out of practice interacting with mortals."

The god’s words lost the gravitas from before in a way that would've been jarring if it weren't such a relief. He finally broke his hold on Steve. He got to his feet, somewhat gracelessly.

"Let’s try that again?” the Lord of Night asked.

Steve cleared his throat. He straightened up where he knelt and kept himself still. He nodded to show he was ready.

“Steve Harrington,” the god said. This time hearing his name on his god’s lips was exhilarating but at a level a human could bear. “Do you swear to spread my values in the minds and hearts of mortals, through action and word?”

“I swear.”

“Then will you, Steve Harrington, do me the honor of being my sword and shield? Will you carry my crest through all your agonies and all your joys?”

“Yes.”

For a breathless moment, their words hung in the air, resonating through the night with finality. The Lord of Night reached out and gently traced something on Steve's forehead. Steve assumed it was his god's sigil, though neither Robin or Dustin could find any images of it so he couldn't be sure. It felt like an incomplete circle with a squiggle running through it. The god stepped back to observe him when he was done.

The stillness that followed, ironically, rattled Steve’s bones with relief and joy that it was done. His god had accepted him. Then the Lord of Night shuffled his feet in an awkward, shy manner.

“Cool,” said the Lord of Night.

The heaviness and tension brought down by the gravity of their oath ruptured with that single world, and Steve could do nothing but dissolve in helpless, giddy giggles.

#trensu tells stories #stasis in darkness #stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #you know what #i'm actually pretty proud of how this scene worked out #there were parts of the other versions that i really really liked but they ultimately didn't fit the tone of the story #but i'm glad i ended up with this version #and that this scene is done #because the next scene is one i've been churning in my brain for ages but i couldn't start it without establishing how this one would go

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greeniegaes · 7 months ago

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Svsss Au! God Shen Jiu and Body Double Shen Yuan

Basically Shen Jiu is a very hard worker for CQS behind everyone’s eyes, he doesn’t care about recognition because he doesn’t want to be apart of a sect with a bad reputation and shit, but he does such a good job that he just… ascends to Heaven early. Some gods in heaven have been watching him for a long time and have been like “bruh he does so much stuff and they don’t even do anything for him??? He’s too good for them >:(“ and just make him join all of them in heaven

And Shen Jiu is like kinda fine with it he guesses. He doesn’t want to jsut leave the sect though, he still has his own responsibilities and stuff. So one of the other gods brings him a soul he found (Shen Yuan) and is like “we can make him a body like yours and he can be your mouthpiece at the sect and nobody will be none the wiser” and Shen Jiu agrees

So he makes Shen Yuan a (almost perfect replica) body and is like, here is my peak, take care of it, I’ll descend from heaven every once in awhile to check up on things.

And so he lives his days out as a god while Shen Yuan is a peak lord. SJ quickly realizes how much of a nerd this guy is, whenever he is by himself he’s gushing about weapons and monsters, a weird kid but whatever he gets the job done. What SJ is annoyed over me how nobody seems to realize he swapped himself out, people he’s known for years, once since childhood, don’t realize this person isn’t him.

And he’s a bit jealous. Of the person meant to be him.

The other gods realize this and are like “how about you and the CQS peak lords of old all descend so you can see them” (both because they feel bad and because SJ is scary when he is pissed off, guqin strings snapping is a terrifying sound) and he agrees, but still hasn’t told the sect about the fact he ascended and Shen Yuan.

So Shen Yuan hears about all the peak lords of old coming, is excited to meet SJ’s master, but once he gets to the grand hall he sees SJ there, all of the sect leaders happily around him. And he feels like he doesn’t belong suddenly. All those years he was here aren’t really his, they are supposed to be Shen Jiu’s, so SY goes back to the bamboo hut to just sit there by himself, waiting. because that’s what he should do now that SJ is back home.

SJ is talking to the other peak lords and is kinda just bored of it after awhile and is like “alright where is SQQ?” And everyone is like “you’re SQQ?” And he’s like “shitttttt I still haven’t told them” so he goes to his peak to find Shen Yuan only to find him in the bamboo house sobbing while holding a massive amount of his weapons.

“Shen Jiuuuuuu… I can’t hold them all :(“ SJ is confused, his face doesn’t look right crying like that and SY sounds pathetic “why do you need to hold your swords Shen Yuan” “aren’t you going to be a peak lord again? I need to continue my work elsewhere” SJ is just like huh- tf is wrong with this dude “you’re still peak lord, stop crying with my face it looks weird and let’s get going.” (Shen Yuan wasn’t even crying about leaving the peak, he was upset about leaving his research or weapons behind LMAO awful priorities)

So he gets both of them back to the sect hall and is like “see? This is the peak lord” and everyone is like “oh you are identical” and Shen Jiu is just exasperated with all of them and starts talking about details that nobody would notice in a million years for how the two of them were different.

Also doodles because I was talking to a friend about this lol

#shen qingqiu #shen yuan #svsss #svsss shen qingqiu #shen jiu #svsss au #text post #scum villian self saving system #scum villain #doodles #greeniegaes #body double au

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sinful-lanterns · 10 months ago

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Oh my, transfem Serpent!

Gods I want to choke on her cocks, having her hold my hair as she guides me up and down her shift before pulling me away to give the other the same treatment.

You know she would be so fuckin good with ropes too! Just hands tied in such intricate knots, unable to do much but just take everything she give me. Getting pulled and bent however she wants, helpless and all for her.

And then she would be just so good when she tops, just ugh she would be able to ruin me so easily! Like she could fill both holes so well, or since I'm also transfem, just being all full with both her cocks and being stretched so much and just shsuduehehev I'm losing my mind.

Hnnnnn getting stuffed full by Serpent 🤤

I don’t even headcanon her cocks to be that big tbh, but since she has two, it feels like absolute heaven when she thrusts into you and tries to make them fit… I imagine that poor Serpent is just too eager and excited to have someone cute to fit her cocks, that she mightttt go a bit too fast, which would lead to you crying out in overwhelming ecstasy from her thrusts…

P.S: I was very horny while writing this. Please excuse me…

nsfw under the cut (men and minors dni)

Imagine when springtime hits, Serpent gets extra aroused and antsy as springtime is usually the time where animals get ready to mate. She’d be holed up in her room all day, groaning and trying to satisfy her two cocks because although kind of a cool feature to have, two cocks means twice the amount of arousal that she will have to experience, and poor Serpent only has two hands that do a mediocre job of pleasuring her :(

She’d be so hot and burning up, wishing for this heat cycle to go away as all she needed was relief (and someone to satisfy her urge to breed), otherwise she’d be left having an uncomfortable few weeks by herself and nothing she can do will help it.

…Unless. Chief decides Serpent needs some checking up on, so she sends you (one of Serpent’s favorite people ever) to check on Serpent and see if she’s okay. When you reach her cell however, you are immediately pulled in and the hot air pretty much seals your fate as you can smell the arousal from Serpent penetrating the room.

She’s super cuddly with you. Groaning and whining before pushing you down on the bed to trap you there. She’s not doing anything yet, because even in that cloudy haze, she still wants your consent. But from the look in your eyes, she could tell you wanted to help her just as badly as she wanted you. And by the way you were eying her two excited erections, she could tell you were drooling quite a bit at the prospect of “helping her out” just a tiny bit…

Expect to be flipped over on your stomach so Serpent could get a good look at your ass and cunt. The snake woman would be practically salivating at the sight, as she strokes herself while watching you and lubes you up with that long tongue of hers. She can’t wait to make you feel so full, to stretch you beyond your limit as she rubs her two shafts in between your thighs to make you feel what you are about to experience.

Serpent isn’t cruel by any means, so she goes slow when she first pushes into you. She isn’t big, but because there are two of her size, it feels very unique to have her penetrating you twice all at the same time. It’s practically double the girth that your pussy and ass (or just pussy if Serpent is feeling bold) are experiencing, and the moment you let out a small moan, Serpent picks it up and begins to instinctively thrust.

Her body would just move on it’s own, keen on breeding the beautiful woman in front of her, and Serpent would practically be quivering at the thought. So much so that she’d latch onto you to keep you trapped underneath her body, despite being a rather petite woman…

Needless to say, you aren’t leaving her bed anytime soon. Or rather… “nest” as Serpent likes to call it, due to the fact she wants you to bear her offspring sooner or later… 💕

…sorry. I have a breeding kink.

#⛓️ mbcc lovepost #path to nowhere #serpent smut #ptn serpent smut #serpent x reader #ptn serpent x reader #ptn #ptn x reader #path to nowhere smut #ptn smut

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angelkissiies · 2 years ago

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hii can you do jock abby x cheerleader reader?

be aggressive

hockey player!abby anderson x cheerleader!reader

cw : modern!au, hockey!au, fluff, confrontation, abby stands up for the reader, cursing, college bitches being bitches.

“Fuck!” You huffed, attempting to find a parking space in the crowded rink parking lot. Game days definitely had begun to test your patience, today more so as you’d already been running late but now with how it was going- you’d be coming in seconds before call time, which gave you a heart attack to even think about.

By some grace of god (or whoever was listening at that point), you found a spot nestled between a black jeep you recognized as Abby’s and some Nissan that was missing a bumper. Trying to waste no time, you hustled out with your hefty bag thrown over your shoulder and skates dangling from your hand as you held them by the laces. The lot was mainly empty as you sprinted towards the entrance, dodging random gaggles of people who you assumed were waiting for the game to start, but were conveniently in the way.

You pushed through the main doors glancing around to find your team, before breaking through a group of away players that hoarded the doorway leading into the changing rooms (that weren’t even for them, you’d think they’d move considering the fact but no). “Sorry, excuse me.” You whispered harshly, giving them a half hearted dirty look as they barely moved to allow you through. It was so unnecessary, you almost let it get to you but for the sake of time you dropped it.

The scent of hairspray hit you first as you rushed into the cheerleaders quarters making you cough before throwing your bag down before making a b-line for the staging door. This led you down the hallway under the rink to the otherside, where your teammates were waiting patiently to begin. You turned the corner before running smack into someone else, their sheer presence sending you stumbling back a bit. Fucking hockey players and their massive bodies.

“Oh baby, shit, I’m sorry.” You heard your girlfriend curse, a tinge of a laugh in her voice as she reached out to you. Oh, it's your hockey player, nevermind. She was headed to the opposite side of the rink to sit with the other players, as the puck drop didn’t take place until the pregame festivities ended. If you weren’t so stressed, you’d probably have made a joke about breaking the ice but the time didn’t come.

You shook your head, focused on getting to your spot in time (and not pissing off your coach- again), brushing your hair down with your free hand to tame the strays that had ventured from their previous tight curls.. “I’m late, I'm so late, Abby.” You breathed, motioning towards the door that now seemed much farther away than you thought. “Do I look okay? I gotta go on.”

She nodded quickly, understanding in half a second as the first announcement rang out, muffled from where the two of you stood. She hooked a finger under your chin, pulling your face to look towards her instead of the rink before she gave you a smile. “You look perfect, now get out there.” She hummed, giving you a light shove towards the door, watching as you didn’t hesitate to take off down the remainder of the hall.

You practically ran to the door- skates clacking wildly as you barely made it before the second announcement came on the intercom. Its main purpose was to draw the ticket holders back into the building, signaling the entertainment was about to begin. You shoved your skates on, finishing tying them just as your coach called for the team to make their way to the door leading onto the ice. You released a breath you didn’t know you were holding as you followed behind your team, skates hitting the ice hard as you followed the outline of the routine you’d been practicing for the past couple weeks. Smile and skate, easy enough.

Abby had made her way back to the other players, taking a seat as she double checked the laces on her skates. A habit she’d picked up after breaking her ankle a couple seasons ago due to her lace coming loose. She heard the music begin and dragged her attention to the ice, waiting to see you- just like she did every game. She always loved seeing you skate, even just as background but today you were front so she didn’t have to worry about not getting a good view.

You came into view, your bejeweled uniform catching light from the overhead spotlights, shining gracefully as you did some precise turn that Abby couldn’t even name. She’d always be thankful for the convincing that had taken place to get you both here, as you almost passed up the idea of cheerleading due to annoying stereotypes from American football cheerleaders. She knew you didn’t see her in the haze of light, as the ice made it much too bright to see much outside of the rink, so she usually took the chance to brag to her teammates. Though, as she began to turn to a player she knew quite well, Nora, she caught the tail end of a conversation between two benched cheerleaders.

“She only got in because her girlfriend is on the team, they totally played favorites.” The one on the left hissed, rolling her eyes at the number you were doing. It was virtually flawless, leading Abby to lean into the conversation more.

The girl on the right laughed, yawning dramatically. “I think it’s kinda weird, Abby is definitely a good player but like why do they have to be gay? Gives us a bad rep.” She proclaimed, attempting to hush her voice down to a level nobody would hear.

Abby caught it though, letting out a chuckle of disbelief as she turned around on the bench to face the girls. It seemed like they didn’t realize who they were sitting in front of, or, they knew and just felt brave enough to keep talking shit. “Fucking excuse me?” She stated, tilting her head at the duo. Angry was an understatement, furious would be a better descriptor as she watched the girls freeze. They could talk shit about her, sure, but she drew the line when it came to you or better yet your relationship as queer women.

“I don’t know what you heard bu-,”

“Shut the fuck up,” Abby growled, cutting the girl off. “Keep my girlfriends name and our relationship out of your fucking mouth. I know for a fact you wouldn’t want this getting back to Coach Mckillen, right? Your little homophobic comments about a girl who’s ten times as talented out there than you are wouldn’t go over so smoothly, huh?”

Knowing fully she planned to report them to the coach, she raised an eyebrow at the duo, watching them scramble to attempt to apologize. Her heart hammered in her chest, never having dealt with such outspoken bigotry- especially from a team composed of mostly queer women. She didn’t let it show, only turning back to the ice, shaking off the stares she’d gathered from her tiny outburst.

“Damn, Anderson. That was rough.” Nora laughed, nudging the girl gently, having overheard the entire ordeal. “You’re a mean bitch.”

Abby bit back a smile at the comment, knowing it was 100% true. “Can’t have anyone out here bad mouthing my girl, that’s all.” She mumbled back, searching the skaters until her eyes landed on you again. From the distance she was at, she could see the healthy blush on your skin from the exhausting choreo she’d watched you practice solo multiple times in the past week, all accompanied by a blissful smile you reserved for crowd work only.

Nora shook her head, eyes glancing over to see the way Abby watched you as you finished up the last of your performance, turning to skate towards the door that led into the players seating. She had seen firsthand how much Abby cared for you, knowing the girl's plans for your birthday made the moment even more special, seeing as soon there would be a crystalline addition to your relationship. “God help any motherfuckers who try.” She chuckled, standing up to give the cheerleaders room to sit as the groups traded places on the ice.

You pulled the door open, allowing your mates to go in before entering yourself, coming up to Abby before even considering capping your skates. “Good luck, Abs.” You smiled, face glowing in a sheen of sweat and pure joy as you looked up at her. “You’re gonna do great.”

Abby smiled down at you, cupping your face in her gloved hands as she pressed a deep kiss to your lips, intentionally drawing it out to annoy the girls who now sat sulking on the second row of benches. Her lips tasted like cinnamon and honey, something you’d grown to love about the woman, her unusual taste in chapstick- and how you never knew what you’d get. “Thank you, pretty girl.” She hummed, pressing another short kiss to your lips before Nora practically dragged her out onto the ice- throwing her helmet to her blindly.

“Don’t forget!” You called after her, your stupid tradition drawing a smile onto her lips as you recited the beginning of an age old cheer usually reserved for football- but with the force your girl brought to the ice, it felt fitting “Be aggressive.”

Abby shook her head at you gingerly, mouthing it back before pushing her mouth guard into place and throwing her braid over her shoulder. A slight laugh bubbled in her chest as she got into position, awaiting the face-off.

B-E aggressive.

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luke-hughes43 · 2 months ago

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surprise | luke and stella

this takes place like barely 2 months into them dating. and is really cute bc they are both still in that awkward phase.

stella's pov

so for columbus day weekend, i'm heading to michigan for a tournament and a visit with the softball program too. i was hoping to get to see luke but the timing of my games, his games, and then going to ann arbor, it just isn't working out.

but that's ok. i'm coming out for thanksgiving to see him anyways.

mom is coming with me to michigan and ellen offered to pick us up. i take a quick nap on the plane because as soon as we land, we're heading to the field.

it is borderline too cold for softball so i have my under layers on. i'm playing centerfield and in the leadoff position. we have a double header tonight and then a double header tomorrow. so lots of softball. and then sunday will be play until you lose and then i have my michigan visit on monday.

i'm hoping to be able to surprise luke at his game tomorrow night but we'll see how i feel. anyways, the game starts and it's going good. i'm getting good hits and making the plays in the field.

i get up in the 5th inning and bunt to get on. then i get the steal sign and take off for second base. i slide into the base and my cleat gets caught in the base and my knee twists. i hold my knee while staying on the base and the umpire calls time.

i still haven't gotten up yet and so my coach comes running out, "what's wrong? are you ok?"

"i twisted my knee when my foot touched the base. i think i'm good, i just need a second." i say and get up to my knees. i finally stand and just walk around a little bit. i do a little jog and tell my coach, "i'm good coach. hurts but i'm good."

"are you sure? i can sub you out so that you're good for the next game." he double checks. I nod, "i'm good."

he nods and goes back to the dugout and i get set at the base. the game goes on and we win the first game 4-2. my knee hurts the rest of the first game and all of the second game but i power through.

in between games, i'm icing my knee and both bella and avery (my bestest friends in the whole world) come over to me. bella asks, "are you ok stella?"

i nod and say, "yea. just hurts a little bit but i'll be ok."

avery says, "ok." and they just sit with me while i ice my knee and we gossip about everything going on at school before we have to get ready for the second game.

the second game goes fine, we win 2-1 but my knee kills. as soon as i get back to the dugout i take my cleats off and put ice on my knee. we had the last game of the night so i don't rush to get out. i lay on the ground with my knee propped up on the bench and ice my knee.

after i don't even know how much time passes, my mom comes in to the dugout and says, "hey honey. how's the knee?"

"it hurts but i'll be fine." i say with my eyes closed.

"ok. do you need anything from me?" she asks. i shake my head and then she continues, "ok. well honey, please hurry up. you have someone who wants to see you. and i think coach is waiting for you."

i nod and finally get up. i'm confused as to who would be here to see me but she does have a point that coach probably wants to talk with the whole team there. i put my sneakers on and grab my bag to head over to the team huddle. as i leave the dugout, i hear what sounds like my boyfriend say, "hey there superstar."

i turn and make eye contact with luke. he's here. oh my fucking god he's here. oh my god. i run over and hug him. he holds me tightly and kisses my head. i say against his chest, "i've missed you."

"i've missed you too stella."

we both pull away form the hug just enough to kiss each other. i smile into the kiss and hold him tight to me, not wanting to let go. i hear my coach yell, "zegras, let's go! kiss your boyfriend on your own time!" the girls giggle and so do i. i peck his lips and he says, "go. i'll wait right here for you."

i nod and hobble over to the team. the girls are giggling and bella elbows me. i smile and nod and listen to coach debrief the game. to be honest, i'm not actually listening. the only thing on my mind is luke luke luke.

i zone back just in time to hear coach dismiss us. i go straight back over to luke and into his arms again. not only because i've missed him so much but it's also cold as fuck. while holding me, luke asks, "how's your knee baby?"

"i'm fine. it hurts a little bit but i'll be ok. nothing i can't handle." i say into his chest. after like a minute, he asks, "are the two girls who are looking here every 30 seconds bella and avery?"

"yea." i respond quietly. i turn and wave them over. i say to luke, "and now you're about to meet them. bella is a guard dog and avery is really shy."

he nods and they come over. i say to them, "bella and avery, this is luke my boyfriend. luke, this is bella and avery. my best friends."

avery says quietly, "it's nice to meet you." luke smiles at her and bella says, "nice to meet you luke."

"you guys too. stella talks a lot about you guys. really good things." he says with a smile. avery smiles but bella's face remains the same, she's not impressed. she's very protective of me. she says, "so how do you expect to make long distance work luke? i know it's hard and i'll be the one picking up the pieces if you break her heart."

"i don't plan on breaking her heart. i know it's hard but we text almost everyday, we call twice a week. and have some trips planned to see each other. i promise bella, i really like her and i really wanna make this work with her. whatever it takes."

"good. because i have a bat and i will fly to michigan to hit you with it if you break her heart." bella threatens. i giggle and luke nods, "understood. plus, her brother is best friends with mine. if i break her heart, trevor knows where i live and will kill me."

"fair enough. you're acceptable." bella says and winks at me. luke smiles and holds me tight. my mom walks over and says, "hey honey. i'm gonna meet up with ellen and catch up. you're welcome to come but i imagine that you wanna stay with luke. he's welcome to come to the hotel tonight but he can't stay over. i'll text you when i'm on my way back. do you guys need a ride?"

luke shakes his head, "no thanks mrs. zegras. i drove here so i can take her back, it's not a problem." she smiles and heads off. luke tights his arm that's around me and i say, "i think we should go soon because it's cold and my knee hurts."

luke smiles, "we will stel. bella, avery, it was great meeting you guys and i hope to get to see you guys again. i'm gonna get her back to the hotel to rest and i might see you tomorrow but i don't know yet."

they both nod and we walk off to luke's car. he opens the door and helps me in like a gentleman. he starts the car and hands me the aux cord. i start playing music and he makes the short drive to the hotel.

once we get there, we go up to the room and i all but collapse on my bed for the night. luke laughs, "comfy?"

"yes. but i need to shower and i want cuddles." i say into the pillow. he chuckles, "go shower. then we can cuddle and you can ice your knee."

i nod and take a quick shower. i quickly change and immediately get into bed with luke. he pulls me tight into him and i rest my head on his chest. i say in almost a whisper, "i wish we got to this more often."

"me too. i hate that our time is always so limited." he responds. he rubs my back softly and kisses my head. i wrap my arm around him and cuddle as close to him as i can. i say, "yea. but next year we'll be on the same campus and you'll be so much closer."

"i know. just have to get there." he says. i nod and we just lay together in the silence. i must've fallen asleep because i woke up the next morning to my alarm blaring and luke gone.

here's to another day of softball.

(thinking this deserves a part 2 no?)

#luke hughes #stella zegras #luke x stella

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munson-blurbs · 4 months ago

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@corrodedcoffinfest Day 13: Sex, Drugs, & Rock n Roll

Word Count: 677/Rating: M/Pairing: None/CW: drug use (marijuana), mentions of sex, moaning, general debauchery with the guys/Tags: Eddie Munson, Gareth, Grant, Jeff, Wayne Munson, competition

Divider credit to @silkholland

“Dude,” Gareth drawls, taking a long hit from the joint, “y’know what we should do?”

Grant laughs before his friend can even finish his sentence, plunging one hand into the bag of pretzels to his left.

Eddie plucks the joint from Gareth, earning a scowl from Jeff who was next up in the rotation. “What’s up?”

Gareth grins. “We should record a song—”

“Already did that,” Jeff cuts in.

“Shut the fuck up! Anyway,” Gareth takes an exaggerated breath, “we should, like, record a woman moaning and put it in the track. Like in Rocket Queen.”

Grant drops a pretzel. “You’re a fuckin�� genius!” He tries to clap Gareth on the back but misses, sending the two into a fit of giggles.

“Yeah, a genius.” Eddie rolls his eyes. “Except for the fact that we’re not exactly drowning in moaning women.” He stretches, exposing a sliver of torso. “In fact, I’m pretty sure you’re all still virgins. The handy that Jeff got behind the Hideout doesn’t count.”

Jeff elbows him, but Eddie’s too high to notice. “Maybe we don’t need women,” Jeff muses. “Ed, you still got that tape recorder?”

Eddie’s brows shoot up. “Yeah. Somewhere around here.” He digs around under his bed until he finds it, blowing off the dust.

Jeff presses the PLAY and RECORD buttons in unison. The cassette’s wheels spin. “Check, one, two,” he mumbles into the mic.

And then he lets out one long, shrill moan.

“What the fuck,” Gareth guffaws, “was that?”

Eddie yanks the recorder away from Jeff. “Someone’s gonna think we’re torturing puppies and call animal control.”

“Seriously, dude. What porn are you watching?” Grant adds. He takes the recorder from Eddie. “It’s gotta be sexy. Like this.”

He holds the microphone close to his mouth, breathing out moans in short bursts. After ten seconds of that, he glances around the room to gauge everyone’s reactions.

“Well…” Eddie starts, taking another hit, “that was…less bad than Jeff’s.”

A triumphant grin stretches across Grant’s face. Eddie’s too stoned to elaborate that their other guitarist had set the bar in hell.

Instead, he turns his attention to the drummer. “Gare? You willing to give it a shot?”

Grant snickers. “Should be easy for him considering he’s barely hit puberty.”

“That’s not what your mom said last night,” Gareth shoots back. Grabbing the mic, he lets out a series of what sound like pained yelps.

Eddie scrambles for the tape recorder. “So that’s gonna be a hard pass from me,” he says with obviously feigned kindness, “but we’ll keep you in mind if we ever need an impression of someone being electrocuted.”

“Whatever.” Gareth crosses his arms over his chest. “Why don’t you give it a try, Sex God?”

“Just because he’s gotten laid doesn’t mean he’s made her moan,” Jeff points out, earning a high-five from Grant.

Eddie flips them off. “Fuck all of you. I’ll have you know I’m a goddamn giver.”

He double-checks that the cassette wheels are spinning, then indulges the guys in the most realistic moaning they’ve ever heard outside of Family Video’s adult section.

“Oh my god! H-oh my god! Yes, yes, yes!”

“Boy, what the hell are you doing?”

Wayne Munson stands in the trailer’s entrance carrying two brown paper bags filled with groceries.

Eddie’s cheeks turn bright red, sobriety infiltrating his brain. Long gone is his hazy high. “N-Nothing.” He drops the microphone. “Just messing around.”

“Sounds like a goddamn brothel in here,” Wayne grumbles, shoving Chef Boyardee cans into the pantry.

“Wait.” Eddie forces himself to look at his uncle. “Like, did it actually sound good? Did I sound like a woman moaning?”

Wayne studies him with a look of sheer disappointment and disbelief. “I’m gonna go out to the truck and get the last bag,” he says slowly, “and when I come back, I want these numbskulls gone, and I want you to never ask me something like that again.”

“Got it.” Eddie nods, but the second Wayne leaves, he turns to his bandmates.

“Looks like we have a winner, boys.”

#eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #fanfic #wayne munson #corroded coffin #corroded coffin fest #gareth emerson #jeff corroded coffin #grant corroded coffin

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queenbeebumblebee · 9 months ago

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"Trying to meassure"

Lee!Vox Ler!Velvette

Summary: Velvette is trying to meassure Vox for new outfits in plan(plus to Fix the old one) and it turns into a little Tickle Game.

Vox was just minding his own business looking through his new phone, he had to get a new one because You know, the last time Val broke his phone, wich it wasnt no fun.

Of course, his suit was a MESS! Because of today he had been dealing with Alastor, wich of course.. lost. You could tell he was extremely mad about this. Of course, this din't last for long.

As Vox was just checking on social media, minding his own business, he could hear some familiar footsteps coming closer and closer to him, it was non other than Velvette, who exactly, looked annoyed.

"Vox. Vox i need You to come with me now."

Velvette said sternly, earning Vox's look of confusion.

"hm? What could be the problem My dear?"

Vox asked, looking confused on the annoyed look the other Overlord gave, he din't Even notice his ruined suit.

"have You LOST your mind?! Look at You, You look horrible! Come over here now!!"

Velvette yelled, her expression on her face turning from annoyed to mad, she quickly dragged Vox by the wrist, guiding him to the wardrove.

"oh come on Vel, My suit doesnt look THAT Bad!"

Vox said, looking at his own suit, He thinks that this was just normal, but for Velvette, it was a DISASTER.

Let's skip to the important part.

Vox was forced to be Standing still as Velvette meassured him, because she needed to Make him a new outfit for him, plus a few Styles just to Make him look awesome, though, his breath has been caught trapped in his throat as the Overlord "accidently" brushed her fingers across his ribs.

"u-uhm.. Vel, what exactly are You-"

Before he could Even Say anything else, a soft snort came out of him as Velvette veeery slowly counted his ribs, while her other hand "accidently" tickled his hip, earning a few giggles from the Tv Overlord, his screen now heating up and his fans working to cool him off.

"V-Vehehel! Cuhuhut it ohohohout!!"

"hold still Vox, i'm trying to meassure You."

Vox tried his hardest to not move away, of course, he can't help but twitch slightly as it really tickled him, he did not want to be a giggly mess right now, as if it was gonna be worse, still, she did not stop.

"come on, it ain't that bad."

"b-but it tihihickles! Ohoho fuck, gehet it ohohover wihihith!!"

Vox said as he wheezed out a cackle, sure, he liked being tickled, Even though he wouldnt ever and i mean NEVER admit it, but it was hard to hold still when Velvette just meassured him as an excuse to Tickle him, yet he dint mind at all, but-

"AHAHA SHIHIHIHT, V-VEHEHEL NOT THEHEHEHERE!!"

Vox yelled as he shrieked when Velvette MESSED With his antenna, while her other hand was still "meassuring" him by brushing her fingers from his hips, to his Upper ribs, close to his Armpits.

"oh come on Vox, let me meassure You, i'm almost done."

"IHIHIHITS SOHOHO BAHAHAHAD!"

Vox yelled as he squeald and cackled, Velvette of course watched with a grin, she finds in funny how ticklish this Demon is, her and Valentino always takes advantage, but they don't do it better than Alastor of course.

A few minutes passed, Vox's laughter and snorts filled the air, until finally, Velvette decides to have some mercy on the poor Overlord.

"i'm done, You have to wait here 'till i get some outfits in your size, okay?"

"g-geheheheez.. okay... Ohoho god.. that was so Bad.."

Vox said quietly as he wheezed and tried to catch his breath, as Velvette left, Vox took this opportunity to just relax and wait, though he kinda wanted the Tickles to go on for longer, but he would rather double die then to admit it. He then took a seat as he waited for the other Overlord to come back with the outfits, he could hear her yelling at her employees.. let's just Say he had a Revenge plan, but for now, he waited to get a new suit.

THE END.

OMG finally i'm done with this, i'm sorry it took long, i was busy on some shit. But anyways, i hope You enjoyed it!

#bee #sfw tickling community #sfw tickle blog #sfw tickle community #sfw tk blog #hazbin hotel tickles #hazbin hotel tickle #hazbin hotel #lee!vox #ler!velvette #Queen bee fic #Queen bee Tickle fic #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel velvette #velvette hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel tickle art #Not Bad for My first fic!

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morgan-the-lonely-brick · 1 year ago

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I have thoughts about the clip and especially about Fang and generally all of the scene so yeah, an analysis-like tangent full of spoilers below cut

Out of the entire crew, I think Fang and Frenchie (especially Fang) are literally the best people to recieve comfort from. It's double true for Izzy.

Not only do they have like. The least invasive and violent trauma out of the crew, but they're both very empathetic and want to help others in distress. Even when that person isn't a particular ray of sunshine... like Izzy.

It also makes sense for Fang to be the main comforter. He knows Izzy. He's known him for a long while. And he's known Blackbeard for a long while too.

Watching him from the beginning of the clip, he seems to be the first one to notice Izzy's not feeling great. Far before the others do!

This is the first we directly see Fang in the clip and yeah he looks surprised that they're throwing loot overboard - as you should be but... even more than that he looks ALARMED. He knows something's up.

After listening to Izzy for a few seconds he is completely sure something's up. He checks in with Frenchie to know if he's seeing it too. We don't know where Frenchie is looking, but I'd assume he reciprocates the look.

Izzy stops mid-sentence. That's not like him. The others will have noticed it too now. Sure enough, here's Jim, thoroughly confused and/or taken aback at least.

Fang protection mode ACTIVATE! His first thought is to ask how Izzy's doing (i am so soft for them oh my god-) and to touch him - reassure him. Ground him.

we then get a "I'm fine, unhand me" which Fang does, to give Izzy some space and checks in again with a "you really don't seem fine". He waits for Izzy's response. He wants to make SURE Izzy's okay, or rather, is patiently waiting for him to admit that he's not.

The others join in saying that they've noticed. They've noticed how destructive his relationship with Ed is. I can't even imagine what's running through Izzy's mind at this moment. Probably like a waterfall of emotion - shame and anger and sadness and everything is too much - he's soon to break. He's trying so hard to hold it back, but he can't. He can't, when the truth is being thrown directly at his face by his own crewmates.

Frenchie comments "he's cut off at least two more of your toes hasn't he?" and Izzy almost flinches at that sentence. He quivers. That's his breaking point. And I. have to stop a bit to look at the implications of this. Form this scene at least, I understood taht when Izzy fails to make the crew follow orders, he gets physically punished. As we heard earlier: "It is your job to f-" *he stops, he shakes slightly* he's thinking about the consequences of them not following his orders - more of his toes cut off. That's horrifying. I'd start crying too, jesus...

Fang knows it's his breaking point and goes back to comfort him - even forcing it a bit on him, because he knows Izzy will struggle, but needs it. God, does he need it. He's always pushing people away, but Fang won't let him this time. He won't let himself be pushed away, because he cares. And he wants to show Izzy that he cares. So he persists.

And after only a few seconds of a very feeble struggle, Izzy accepts it. He's been strong for so long. He's been brave and hurting and isolated and repressed for so. So long. And he needs to let go. And he does. He whimpers. He sounds like a puppy who's been kicked. And he is. He is a puppy. A puppy that's been severely hurt and doesn't WANT to be hurt anymore. (god, i am weak at the knees, someone call the ambulace, i think i'm dying)

Frenchie steps in as secondary comfort to show that Izzy's really not alone in this and that none of them actually hate him. Even if he thinks he deserves it. Not even Stede's former crew hate him. That's what Frenchie represents here - to me. Fang and frenchie together show him that love isn't meant to hurt so much. It's not meant to be like this. And they also ground him in that moment. Izzy looks at Frenchie several times as he whimpers, perhaps checking in - seeing if Frenchie leaves after seeing him weak. But he doesn't. He stayes and he waits for Izzy to be okay and I think that means the world to Izzy. It means the world to me too. Izzy deserves all the comfort by this point.

Also I want to throw Edward overboard.

11/10 i need Izzy to have more hugs

#boooo edward! booo!!!#how dare he #ofmd #ofmd spoilers #ofmd season 2 spoilers #ofmd 2 #izzy my baby my puppy <3 #hurt/comfort #emotional hurt/comfort #whump #emotional whump #izzy hands #ofmd izzy

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sarahowritesostucky · 1 month ago

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Art: @hopelessartgeek

📖 "Medically Necessitated" Ch 10

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

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

10. Bea

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

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

He’s nesting.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mm?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bucky blinks. “Kissing you.”

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

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

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

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

But he does kiss back.

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

“So, I’m your registered omega now.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh.”

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

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

“And we’re bonded, aren’t we?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Almost nineteen. My birthday’s soon.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Steve forces a smile. “Yeah Buck. You can kiss me.”

Bucky kisses him once more, then lets him go. “And do other stuff,” he says happily, just as Steve is reaching up to grab plates out of the cabinet.

He freezes. “Oh. Um ...”

“Oh come on, Steve. You’ve fucked me six ways to Sunday already!”

Steve busts out in a surprised laugh, but he can feel his face heating at the intense visual memory that hits him: Bucky, in the heat suite, naked and moaning and coming undone. Steve shakes his head and grabs the spatula back up. “Jesus Buck. Come on over here and get your food.”

Bucky obeys with a smirk, and they heap their plates high with scrambled eggs and sausage links and sit at opposite ends of the couch. Their feet tangle in the middle as they eat. Bucky chews thoughtfully for a while and then says, out of the blue and with determination, “I should learn to cook.”

Steve grimaces down at his plate. “That bad, huh?”

“What? Oh, no!” Bucky laughs and eats more sausage. “No, this is great. I was just thinking how I could make you breakfast. Pancakes and stuff. Omelets. I mean, since you probably don’t have time to do it yourself when you have to get to work in the mornings. Right?"

Steve blinks, taken aback. “Wow that’s … that’s really sweet, Buck.” Bucky smiles and looks back down at his plate, and Steve says, “I still have the next few days off from work. We could try to get your school situation figured out, if you want?”

Bucky looks wary of this idea. “I dunno, Steve. I was always homeschooled. I don't …” He shifts uncomfortably. “I don’t know if I’m very smart.”

Steve tuts in disapproval. “Of course you’re smart. Just because you might not know certain facts doesn’t make you unintelligent. Remember what I told you?”

“Yeah I know. Bees pollinate flowers,” Bucky mumbles, his discomfort obvious. He’s still embarrassed about his past.

"Hey," Steve offers gently. He nudges Bucky’s socked foot with his own. “That’s what we’re gonna do. We’ll spend the last few days of my leave figuring out a schedule for you, okay? I’ll help you.” The past few days have gone quickly, eaten up by tv marathons, snuggle sessions, and walks around the neighborhood to familiarize Bucky with the immediate area where Steve lives. “We can map out where your sister’s new place is, where you’re going to go for therapy. I’ll even investigate how you might go about taking the GED, if you want. They have study materials. Shouldn’t be hard to figure out.” He keeps nudging Bucky’s foot with his until he gets a little smile from the kid. “You’ll get a transit pass for the train and the bus. You can be totally independent, scoot all over the city if you want.”

Bucky hums and tucks back into his food, but Steve can tell that he’s pleased by the prospect.

Steve still has the next few days off from work, the tail-end of what is officially titled as his “Registered New Mate Leave.”

Steve is forced to explain to—an understandably confused—Bucky, that even though “mates” really is just a social construct and not a true physical thing, the government in New York still uses the term in some of its policies and legislation. “I know it’s contradictory,” he apologizes, when Bucky first perks up at hearing him say the words ‘mate leave’. “It’s stupid, I know. But the important thing is that I have time off where I can help you get settled, yeah?”

Bucky agrees with a tiny nod (and later, a quietly-murmured: “It’s not stupid. I don’t mind being your mate,” which makes Steve fluster but which Bucky also says quietly enough and standing far away enough that Steve can pretend he didn’t hear him say it).

He buys Bucky a transit card and helps him learn how to use the app for the city bus system and the train on his phone, then they decide to take a practice trip together, riding the orange and then the purple line out to the address in Queens where Rebecca's new apartment complex is.

Steve sits next to Bucky on the train and watches as he spends the ride downloading various apps for things like GrubHub and Candy Crush onto his phone. It’s a little hard for Steve to remember that Bucky grew up in a restrictive and backwards cult, when he’s sitting there witnessing the kid take to the modern world like a fish takes to water.

Rebecca’s apartment is all the way out in Flushing. Steve makes a reference to The Nanny, which Bucky of course doesn’t get, because he didn’t grow up watching 90’s cable TV. So Steve promises to add it to their already massive streaming watchlist.

Rebecca has them stay for lunch, and Steve feels kind of bad when they leave her in her lonely apartment with stark walls and hardly any furniture or possessions. She’s still adjusting to the outside world, the same as Bucky is, and Steve is once again very, very glad that he’s been able to bring Bucky straight into a lived-in home with lots of warm things and Steve himself to help. He’d hate to think of Bucky struggling all on his own.

“We should have her over for dinner sometime,” he offers, when he and Bucky are back in Brooklyn and walking towards the OmCare social services building where Bucky’s scheduled for his afternoon intake and assessment. “Your sister, that is.”

“Ooh, yeah. We could do that?” Bucky looks hopeful. “I could make something.”

“Sure, why not?” They walk inside the building and Steve accompanies Bucky up to the check-in desk. He gives him a little side hug, which Bucky turns into a full-on hug, and then leans up and kisses him. It’s just a quick peck, but it makes Steve flush halfway down his neck.

Bucky smiles when he notices and holds Steve’s hand while they wait in line behind one other person. “You’re nice,” he mumbles.

“It’s your apartment, too. You’re allowed to have guests and go in and out and cook whenever you want. And I’m glad you’ve got your sister, and that she’s got you.” Steve squeezes his hand. “You’ve both overcome something huge. It’s not easy. I’m proud of you.”

Bucky beams and looks like he’ll say something else, but before he can, the receptionist calls him forward and he signs himself in. They take their seats in the waiting room, and before long Bucky is called back by a kind looking beta counselor, who introduces herself as Beatrice—"just Bea is fine"—Collins, and informs Steve that if he plans to stick around for the entire appointment, he’s got quite the wait ahead of him. Steve says he doesn’t mind. His phone has a full charge.

When Bucky comes out of the appointment—three hours later —Steve’s butt is numb from the waiting room chairs, and Bucky’s holding a folder stuffed full of papers. Steve can immediately tell that he’s in a very good mood. He looks ten times brighter than when he'd gone in. “How’d it go?” Steve asks.

“Great!"

"Yeah?"

"Uh huh. My counselor's nice.” Bucky recounts all of the different assessments that Bea had him complete during their session together. “I think she was expecting me to be super screwed up or something,” he jokes. “I don’t know what the heck the hospital told her.”

That you’re a gang rape trauma victim with culture shock and gender dysphoria, Steve thinks, but doesn’t say. He’s been relieved and surprised so far, at how well Bucky’s taken to accepting himself and his body, this bond and the news of an unplanned pregnancy. Steve doesn’t know how that’ll change as the pregnancy progresses, but he’s hopeful that him being there and being accepting of Bucky can help make a positive difference. “Did you get a schedule for therapy?” he asks, when they’re on the bus ride home.

“Mondays and Wednesdays at four,” Bucky says. “There’s a queer youth group that meets after. Bea said she thinks I’ll like it. I told her I’d give it a try.”

Steve blinks in surprise. “Oh. Okay. So ... do you feel like you’re, um, queer?”

Bucky smirks and shakes his head. “No. But I dunno, I might make friends there.”

“Oh yeah. Right, of course.”

His hand migrates to his stomach and he looks down at it. “I still feel really weird about it all. Being pregnant.”

Steve’s heart sinks and he fights not to let it show on his face. “Do you feel like you’re changing your mind? About keeping it?”

Bucky shakes his head but he won’t meet Steve’s eyes. “No, it’s not that. I don’t mean the baby. It’s more about how I’m, like …” He chews his lip as he thinks about it. “How I'm being like this so openly.”

“‘Like this’?”

He nods. “I know people can smell it. And eventually I’ll get big and people’ll see.”

“Yeah.” Steve’s hand creeps over the seat between them, cautious. He personally can’t wait to see Bucky get bigger, but of course he’d never say that. “Is ... that a bad thing?” he asks cautiously.

“No. Not bad. It just makes it so obvious about how I’m, um, you know.” Bucky hesitates for so long that Steve half expects him to throw out an obscene word. “How I'm … omega." He plucks at the front of his sweater, which they bought in the men’s omega clothing section at Target just the other day.

It isn’t much different in style from a typical men’s A/B sweater. Perhaps a bit tighter in the fit—slightly different seams, a more graceful neckline that’s indicative of the gender it’s meant for. Steve thinks it looks good on him, but now he starts to get self conscious and wonders if Bucky truly liked any of the clothes they bought for him the other day. Steve had tried to make it clear that Bucky could pick out anything he wanted. He doesn’t think he’d been the one to steer them in the direction of the men’s O department, rather than men's A/B, but he’ll be damned if he can convince himself of it now.

He opens his mouth to ask, but Bucky’s already speaking, “It wasn’t like that back home. Guys like me were … Well, people knew, of course, but we didn’t talk about it. You hid it, you didn’t go around openly acting all—” he cuts himself off and shakes his head. “Anyways, it’s just weird to be out in public, knowing everybody can tell. Seeing people act like it’s normal.”

Steve frowns and takes his hand. “It is normal, Buck.”

“I know. I know that. It’s just gonna take some getting used to." Bucky twists his lips and grumbles, "Bea says I’ve got ‘dysphoria’.”

“You do,” Steve says solemnly, thinking about how the kid had refused to even consider the men’s O style underwear at Target. They’d purchased a pack of A/B style briefs instead, which Steve had been happy to do for him. “It’s gonna take time,” he agrees kindly. “And that’s okay. It'll get easier, you'll become more comfortable about a lot of stuff. And for the things that don't feel right, well you know you can express your gender any way you want, right? You don't have to force yourself into some box. Not anymore." He gives Bucky's hand a comforting squeeze. "I think the queer group’s a great idea, Buck. You should go.”

Bucky’s scent gradually lightens, and he leans in against Steve’s side, allowing him to wrap an arm around his shoulders and hold him close for the remainder of the bus ride home.

“—and said she thinks I’ll do just fine on the GED,” Bucky tells Steve brightly the next night, when they’re fixing their dinners. “I can study for it online, and take it any time I want. She had this whole indicator test that said my scores were pretty good. Better than what she’s seen from uneducated people in the past.”

“You not uneducated, Buck,” Steve chides. “You were homeschooled.”

“Better than nothing,” Bucky mutters, but says nothing else, and they leave it at that.

They compromise and make little side salads to eat with the frozen dinners that Bucky picked out (the kid has atrocious taste in foods, and Steve has already purchased and paid for overnight shipping on the best prenatal vitamins that money can buy). They settle in to watch a few more episodes of The Nanny, which Bucky has decided that he loves. After that, he picks out a movie to watch, and they sit snuggled on the couch together, some of the new nesting blankets tucked around both of their shoulders.

It becomes apparent that Bucky has taken their previous discussion about physicality to heart. He’s very bold with how close he wants to be with Steve, sitting right up against him as soon as the movie starts and leaning more and more of his weight on him as time goes on. He purrs happily when Steve finally wraps an arm around his shoulders, gives him an affectionate tug against his body, and holds him close. They spend the rest of the movie that way.

By the time the credits roll, Bucky’s hand has been steadily creeping higher up Steve’s thigh for the better part of twenty minutes. They’ve snuggled the entire movie, but Bucky started touching with intent somewhere around the three-quarter mark, and Steve’s done nothing to stop him. He grunts softly when Bucky finally reaches the top of his thigh, and again when he boldly moves his hand and cups the front of his jeans. Steve’s been perked up for a while, and it feels good to finally be touched. “Buck,” he says softly.

Bucky turns into him, putting their faces close together. “Kiss me?” he murmurs, those two quiet words making his lips move in the barest, most enticing way. They look so soft.

Steve’s belly flutters with nerves in a way that it hasn’t done in a long time. Bucky’s so young and sweet, so innocent, and that really gets to Steve more than he wants to admit. He’s never had a virginity kink, but knowing that he’s the only one who’s ever made love to Bucky’s body, the only one who’s ever laid him down in soft spaces and shown him pleasure, God, it makes Steve weak to think about.

It makes him want so much, makes him want to show Bucky every single way there is in the world to feel good. Steve just wants to keep him and teach him and make him happy. And to feel all of that for someone he’s barely known is … It’s a lot. Steve knows they’re bonded, and that he should allow himself a little leeway, allow himself to indulge. Especially since Bucky’s all but in his lap now, having made his wishes crystal clear, lips hovering scant centimeters away from Steve’s own.

Steve closes the distance, pressing their mouths together in a gentle kiss. Bucky is soft, just as devastatingly sweet and soft as he looks, and Steve feels his blood run hotter at the sheer lust that courses through him. Fuck, he thinks despairingly. How is he ever going to control himself with this boy?

Bucky makes a tiny noise of pleasure as soon as they’re kissing, a sound that goes straight to Steve’s cock. He’s so eager, pressing closer, his hand between Steve’s legs molding to the shape of his erection and rubbing. Steve grunts and kisses him harder, and Bucky looses the sweetest little whimper. He abandons all pretense of restraint, turning fully into Steve, climbing into his lap and straddling him. His hands come up to cradle Steve’s face as they make out.

Steve groans at the first, hot swipe of Bucky’s tongue. He opens up to it and follows, his hands curling in hard at Bucky’s waist as they get more and more heated, more urgent. Bucky’s hips start grinding down in tight little circles, and when they break away from the kiss momentarily, Steve's slightly out of breath. “Buck,” he pants, and Bucky nods shakily in response.

“Yeah. Oh God, Steve. You feel so … I just wanna … nngh.”

Jesus, Steve thinks. It doesn’t even take a complete sentence from the boy to make heat pulse harder through his veins. He knows that part of it’s from the bond. Logically, he knows. He can feel Bucky’s arousal like an echo of his own, amplifying everything. His cock is throbbing against the seam of his jeans. Bucky’s been rocking needily against it as they kiss, and Steve can smell the omega’s arousal now, honey-sweet and tempting underneath the layers of his clothes. He’s getting wet.

It calls out to Steve’s instincts, makes him want to grab Bucky and tackle him to the floor, make him feel so good that he cries and comes apart for him within minutes. It’s not like it would be hard to do. Steve knows how an omega's body works, knows that he could have Bucky creaming on his fingers before the movie’s end credits are finished rolling. But he forces himself to hold back, because that’s not what he wants, not really. Not for Bucky’s first time in their home. Their home. Christ.

“Sweetheart,” he gasps, when Bucky switches to sucking on his neck and rubbing forwards instead of down, his clothed little cock grinding against Steve’s abs, giving off these needy little whines as he moves. Fuck, it’s sexy. And he’s got his mouth right over Steve’s glands, bringing blood to the surface of skin that’s still tender and sensitive from the recent bondmark. It’s healed by now, but the skin is still pink and thin, delicate from injury. It wouldn’t take much to get it to break all over again, and Steve feels saliva pool in his mouth as he imagines that the same must be true of Bucky’s mark. He grits his teeth and digs his fingers in hard at Bucky’s waist, trying to control himself. “Oh, Honey … okay wait. Wait wait wait.” He pulls back, panting, and after a moment Bucky does, too. His eyes open and flick over Steve’s face. He’s got such fantastic eyes. Irises that flare into a stormy cobalt, and then gray; his pupils blown huge with desire. Steve is fucking helpless under those eyes.

“Alpha,” Bucky breathes, saying it like it might as well be Steve’s name. “Can we? Please? I want it, I do. Please Steve, please take me back to our room.”

It’s such pretty begging. Steve’s hit hard in that instant by how utterly beautiful Bucky is. His dark lashes and plush lips, the wanting pinch between his brows, and the sweet, aroused, pregnant smell of him. Steve wonders how he ever thought he was going to be able to remain respectable, here. “Yeah?” he asks, pushing his hands under Bucky’s sweater to feel his skin. He digs his fingers into the soft give of his waist and feels him shudder. “You sure?”

Bucky grabs his face to kiss him forcefully, his hips jolting down again as he does. “Yes!” he laughs, kissing Steve hard, shoving his tongue inside his mouth with almost no skill. “Fuck, Steve. Come on. Pleease. You’re my Alpha, aren’t you?” He’s only asking lightheartedly, but Steve’s balls still clench and throb as if he’s been issued a challenge, and his growl still intensifies to something rich and possessive, rolling deep in his chest. Bucky makes a delighted sound at hearing it, and his scent spikes. He clings to Steve and tucks his face in his neck, humping him harder and moaning, “C’mon Alpha. Take me back there and hold me down. Make it feel better. Aren’t I your omega? Don’t you want to breed me up in our nest?”

“Fuck,” Steve says tightly. This kid’s too clever. He figures things out. “Bucky,” he growls.

“Yeah." Bucky drags his teeth over Steve’s bondmark and sucks, hard, on the glands. He releases with a 'pop' and a harshly whispered, “So make me feel good like you’re supposed to,” against the shell of Steve’s ear. And Steve breaks. He shoves up to standing with Bucky hoisted in his arms. The coffee table scrapes loudly across the floor when his shins hit it. Bucky squeaks at the sudden movement and grabs onto him, laughing delightedly. "Steve!"

Steve carries him back to the bedroom. He dumps him on the bed and Bucky scoots back and starts yanking off his clothes with haste. Steve stays standing and undresses, growling at him. “You’re a manipulative little shit, you know that?”

Bucky laughs. “If it gets me what I want," he preens, voice muffled by his tee shirt and sweater twisted halfway over his face.

Steve is naked first, and he helps Bucky by pulling off the briefs that he's trying to kick off his foot, tossing them away with a grin as he crawls over him on the bed. “And what is that, huh?” he asks, settling in the cradle of his hips, pleased when Bucky's legs part instinctively to make a place for him. Finally, their bodies finally pressed fully together, nothing between them anymore. It feels right. Bucky’s eyes are bright and joyful, his cheeks beautifully flushed as Steve settles on his forearms above him. Bucky whines and draws his knees up, humping against Steve's stomach, smearing his slick there. Steve traces the edge of one dark brow with his thumb. “Pretty boy. What do you want so bad, hm?”

“Thought that’d be obvious by now,” Bucky jokes, though some of the bravado has leached from his voice, replaced by a breathiness that betrays his nerves.

Steve glances down between them and sees Bucky’s cocklet, half hard and fattened up against his belly. And lower down, all that slick. It’s mind-bendingly hot, and Steve shoves a hand down between them, smearing through the mess and getting it all over his fingers. “So wet, Sweetheart,” he praises.

Bucky chokes out the prettiest little noise when Steve's fingers graze his soaked lips, and then wrap around his cocklet and start giving it light, coaxing strokes. “S-shit,” he whimpers, shoving up against Steve’s hand. “Ohn, sh-shit, Steve …”

“Mmhm.” Steve kisses him as he strokes, stopping frequently to pull back and watch the pleasure play out over his face. Bucky's little cock is almost fully hard in his hand. Steve looks down between their bodies to watch as he thumbs over the head again and again. He takes gentle hold of his foreskin and uses it to jerk him off right at the tip. The sight of it is enough to make him want to pop a knot. And lower down? Jesus wept, it’s pretty. Bucky’s slick is everywhere and his cunt is pink and swollen, the lips puffy and darkened from arousal. Jesus fucking Christ. Steve's overcome with the need to seal his mouth right over it.

He gets back on his knees, intending to do just that, pulling Bucky where he wants him in the sheets. He pushes Bucky’s knees apart and looks his fill. Bucky starts to whine and squirm at the close attention, but Steve hushes him and plays with his cock some more to distract him. “Shh, Honey. You’re so pretty down here.” He’s staring, can’t help but stare at the gorgeous spread of Bucky’s sex. He trails his fingers over it in the barest ghost of a touch, near reverent in how he plays with this delicate part of him. “Oh, Sweetheart. Look at you, so perfect.”

Bucky’s scent gets even more aroused, but with a growing hint of embarrassment to it that Steve doesn’t like. His nose wrinkles as he scents a twinge of humiliation, and realizes how bothered Bucky is. This isn’t going to be like at the hospital. Bucky no longer has the mental fog or the fevered drive of his heat to guide him through any of this.

Steve looks up and tries to convey what he feels for Bucky through his expression, through the bond that they share. He reaches out and cups his cheek. “What are you thinking, Sweet boy?” he asks sadly, knowingly. Because he can already see it: the self-deprecating thoughts that Bucky's having about his body, about what he’s been told all his life is wrong with it. Steve makes a miserable noise of contention, and Bucky’s lips quiver and his eyes slip closed. He’s shaking his head just the barest bit. Steve whines sadly. “Honey,”

“Nothing,” Bucky whispers, squirming unhappily and pressing his cheek into Steve’s palm. His sad little smile is heart wrenching. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

For the first time, Steve wishes that he’d gone in to speak privately with Bucky’s OmCare counselor the other day, so that he could’ve asked questions. Steve’s never been with someone with issues like Bucky has, at least not any longer than a few hectic days spent fucking in a heat suite. His job involves acute care, the during. He’s never been there to deal with the after. Bucky’s so beautiful laid out before him now, but Steve is keenly aware of how fragile he is, too. He doesn’t want to mess this up.

Slowly, he moves his hand from Bucky’s face and fits it around the front of his throat instead. He presses up and in under his jaw, and watches as Bucky’s eyes shoot open again. Steve levels him with a tender look. “Buck,” he tells him gently. “I want to lay down on my stomach, here.” He nods at the bed. “Right here, between your pretty legs.” Bucky swallows thickly beneath his palm, a hurt little pinch forming between his brows. One of his hands has come up to grip onto Steve’s wrist at his throat, but he isn’t pushing him away, and Steve keeps his hand there. “I think you’re so beautiful, Sweetheart. And I want to show you. I want to make you feel good.” Carefully, he leans down over him, so close that their lips brush together. But he keeps his eyes open, and so does Bucky, and he doesn’t kiss him. He stays like that, sharing breath with him and looking right into his eyes as he holds his neck with gentle dominance. … And with his other hand, he reaches down between his legs.

Bucky’s breath catches and trips at the first touch of Steve’s fingers, his face slipping between desire and shame and a whole host of other, vulnerable emotions. “S-steve,” he breathes.

“Mmhm.” He lets the pads of his fingers stroke softly along the lips of Bucky’s cunt, again and again, up and down, just barely touching. He’s soaked. “I want you to tell me,” Steve murmurs, and then he finally does kiss him—just once, just a tiny peck on the lips. Bucky tries to kiss back, but he denies him, maintaining that scant distance between their faces and waiting until Bucky opens his eyes again. Steve smiles. “Tell me, Bucky. Tell me to put my face down between your legs. Tell me to kiss you, to lick you.”

The whine Bucky makes is as bothered as the blush that stains his cheeks. He writhes underneath Steve, and Steve tightens his hand on his neck. He fits his thumb over his bonding glands and presses firmly. “I love every part of your body Buck, and I want you to see that. I want you to see what I see.” He gives him another kiss, and this time speaks directly against Bucky’s mouth. “Now give me permission to eat you out.”

“Fuck,” Bucky whimpers, but the shame in his scent has already peaked and is dissipating. It’s still there, but Steve can feel through the bond how his words have helped. Bucky squirms under him, a new gush of slick pooling around Steve’s fingers right after. “... E-eat me out, Steve.”

“Good boy. Oh, Bucky, Sweetheart,”

“Please … your mouth, your … please.”

Steve growls, more than satisfied. He mashes his mouth down hard on Bucky’s, kissing him fiercely to let him know he’s been so, so good for him. Then he shoves himself down the bed, dragging his cock against the sheets as he goes to get some relief. Bucky’s legs spread apart and Steve coaxes him with gentle murmurs to rest them over his shoulders. “There you go. Just like that, Beautiful.” He kisses the back of one calf as it moves and Bucky settles. He flicks his eyes up to Bucky, who’s staring down at him with parted lips and heavy-lidded eyes.

“Oh, Steve. Are you gonna?”

He moves instead of answering, shoulders pushing under Bucky’s thighs and arms wrapping around, tugging him closer. Bucky squeaks and Steve rumbles in satisfaction. “Goddamn,” he curses, rolling his hips down against the mattress some more. It’s barely a relief. “Baby,” he breathes, staring at Bucky’s pink folds, so wet and delicate, his little hole clenching on nothing. “Baby, you got no idea how good this pussy looks. Fuck.”

Bucky groans at the words, but he doesn’t get much chance to protest further because in the next second Steve is diving in. He seals his mouth over most of Bucky’s entire sex, just because he can, giving a big, indulgent suck and making absolutely filthy noises in the process. He laves the flat of his tongue, wide and firm and focused, up the pink cleft of his cunt, again and again, before setting in to a few moments of truly tongue fucking him—first with tiny little jabs that barely breach him and make him whine high and needy, then a series of longer, deeper pushes, going as far into Bucky’s body as he possibly can. Bucky downright wails after a moment of that, and Steve can hear the frustration in it, can hear how he wants more but doesn’t have the words to ask. That’s alright, though. Steve has given plenty of head in his life, and he knows what male omegas respond to best. He gets himself in gear and does what he knows will have Bucky coming in minutes.

“Jesus Chr-uh—” Bucky grunts, his hips shoving up hard against Steve’s face.

Steve hums around the cocklet in his mouth and tongues the underside, flicking over and over it like he would do to a woman’s clit. He’s got one hand holding Bucky’s hip down, and he uses the other to tease at the wet entrance of his slit, pressing with the tips of two fingers. It’s so tight that, for a long second, it doesn’t feel as if he’ll be able to get in. He hums his mouth on Buck’s cock and pushes harder … and slips in.

Bucky cries out sharply and both of his hands are suddenly in Steve’s hair, pulling him closer. His legs hook over his back, heels digging in. “Fuck, oh fuck, Steve yeah… yeahyeah … that … oh, ohplease, jus’likethat.”

Steve hums happily and curls his fingers, rubbing the right spots, letting his knuckles bump Bucky’s mound while he suckles with purpose at the head of his dick. He’s determined to get at least this first orgasm out of the way before he fucks him.

Bucky’s hands pull his head and his hips shove against Steve’s face as he arches and comes, the sweet, desperate sounds he makes as he reaches his climax music to Steve’s ears. His body contracts rhythmically as he releases, a hot gush of slick between his legs and Steve’s palm. Steve groans with his cocklet still held in his mouth. He pulls off, lifting his head to gaze up Bucky’s body but leaving his fingers buried inside his cunt. Bucky’s head is tossed back in the pillows, panting, his face lax from the trailing bliss of his orgasm.

Steve smiles and strokes his fingers inside a few more times, prolonging it for him as much as he can. When Bucky inhales hugely then sighs, his entire body going boneless, Steve pulls out. He dips down for one more, indulgent taste, then kisses his way back up Bucky’s stomach, up across his chest and neck. Bucky’s waiting for him with half-lidded eyes and a sated smile when he arrives to lie over top of him again. Steve hums, settling between his legs and kissing him lightly. He rocks his hips minutely, moving his cock through all that slick. “Feel good?” he asks, bending down to nose at his neck.

Bucky shivers in his arms and nods. “Mmm. Mmhm.”

Steve’s lips find Bucky’s bondmark and kiss it. “Good,” he murmurs. He flicks his tongue out against the delicate skin of the mark, imagining how good it would feel to bite him now, to sink his teeth in all over again, feel the skin break so tenderly and the blood welling out rich with pheromones, how much the sound of Bucky’s cries would turn him on. I want to claim you again, he thinks. I want you. His chest aches with how badly he wants to say those things, but he forces himself not to.

It’s not his place to scar Bucky up any worse than he already has, not when they aren’t mates. Bucky’s with him until the baby comes, maybe not long after. Steve has to let him have that choice, he can't be selfish and box him in, no matter how badly his instincts might make him want to. He rubs his lips over the bondmark instead, then just his nose, when the urge to bite won’t go away.

Beneath him, Bucky’s hips cant up further, receptive. His knees notch up higher about Steve’s waist. But after a moment of lazy writhing and making little seeking, wanting mewls, he freezes. “Oh. Um … Steve?”

“Mm?” Steve is rubbing his cock through the wet cleft of his sex, ready to be inside his omega, ready to feel that heaven again. He wedges a hand down to line himself up. “You ready, Honey?”

“Wait, no.” Steve pulls back, and Bucky winces in apology. “Ah, maybe I have to pee. Sorry.”

Steve laughs, relieved, and kisses him quickly. He rolls off of him and onto his back. “Don’t apologize. It happens.” He pats him on the hip affectionately and tells him to go. Bucky does, and Steve watches his naked backside as it disappears into the ensuite. He sighs heavily once he’s alone, scrubbing the heels of his hands over his eyes and resisting the urge to touch himself in Bucky’s absence. God, he’d really wanted to bite him again. That’s going to be a problem. He hears the toilet flush, then water running at the sink, then Bucky’s footsteps as he returns. Steve uncovers his face and smiles as Bucky climbs back on the bed. “Better?”

“Mmhm.”

Bucky's a typical omega, in that he responds very well to his orgasms. He’s loose and happy after his first, all the tension and insecurities from before gone for the moment. Steve knows his brain has just dumped a shit-ton of chemicals to tell him that he’s loved and safe and beautiful and cared for. He moves to pull him in close again, intending to get right back between his spread legs like he’d been before, but Bucky stops him with another hesitant,

“Wait.”

Steve pauses, and when Bucky pushes against his shoulder he takes the hint and returns to lying on his back, probably with a quizzical expression on his face. Bucky’s kneeling on the bedcovers beside him, looking shy but eager. Steve’s knot throbs at that look. “Buck?”

Bucky’s eyes rove over his body with interest plain on his face. At his sides, his hands make an aborted gesture towards Steve. “Um. I wanted to try …” He bites his lip, eyes trailing down to Steve’s erection where it lies wet and heavy against his belly, the shine of Bucky’s slick on it catching the room’s light. Bucky visibly trembles and reaches out with his hand again. This time, his fingers brush over the skin of Steve’s hip. He shifts in place on his knees. “Can I …”

“Yes,” Steve breathes, instantly harder just at the thought of Bucky touching him in that way—with his hands, his mouth, it doesn’t matter. Whatever it is that Bucky wants, Steve wants him to have it. The idea of his omega wanting him like this, wanting to explore his body, makes Steve hotter than anything he can imagine. “Anything you want,” he manages to croak out, forcing himself to remain still and let Bucky set the pace. “Go ahead.”

Bucky’s timid for another moment, leaning forward. His hands land lightly on Steve’s chest at first, then drag down, feeling his body. He takes a deep breath and seems to decide on something, his expression growing resolute. He straddles Steve’s thighs and leans forward to touch his chest again, taking more time to explore his pecs, ghost fingers over his nipples. It’s endearing how fascinated he still is. Steve supposes that they didn’t do much of this in the heat suite. Bucky had been too far into his cycle then, too needy and traumatized to even contemplate exploring Steve’s body when what he really needed was an alpha taking care of him. Now though, now he can explore. And the heat in his eyes as they rove Steve’s body shows that he very much wants to.

Steve swallows thickly and watches as his omega becomes familiar with him in this new way. His hands flow over Steve’s abs, fingertips tracing the lines of muscle, and then the hair that starts on his belly. He smooths his hands down over those flat planes, out to his hips, to the tops of his thighs and back up. But his eyes remain glued to Steve’s cock the entire time. It’s fully hard now, darkened in color from his arousal and the knot plumped at the base. Bucky’s eyes flick up once, just to check, and Steve gives him a shaky smile. “Go ahead, Sweetheart.”

Bucky touches his cock, wrapping his hand around the shaft like he’s afraid he’ll hurt Steve. “What should I do?” he whispers, fingers tightening the barest fraction and giving a cautious stroke. “I’ve never …”

Steve’s hips jerk up and he fights to keep himself still. “It’s okay,” he says. “You touch yourself, right? Just do that. It’s the same.”

Bucky’s eyes flick up, and Steve’s surprised to see humor there. Bucky twists his lips wryly. “It’s not the same,” he teases, looking back down pointedly at Steve’s humongous cock, and then his.

Steve chuckles. “Well, general idea.” He reaches down and puts his hand over Bucky’s hand where it’s holding his cock. Bucky inhales sharply and looks at him. Steve nods. “Anything you do is gonna feel so good for me, Buck,” he tells him honestly. “Go ahead. I just want to watch you have fun.” Bucky looks shocked at that for the barest of seconds, but then that look slips away, replaced by eagerness. He looks back down, licks his lips, and starts jerking Steve off in slow, exploring strokes. Steve groans and lets his head flop back into the pillow, closing his eyes after a moment. Bucky’s other hand appears at the top of his thigh. It slides inwards, squeezing the muscle, and Steve groans and spreads his legs a little for him, flexing his pelvis up. “Yeah,” he whispers. “Bucky.” Bucky’s touches grow bolder. He squeezes Steve’s cock harder and starts twisting his hand experimentally on the upstroke. His other hand migrates from Steve’s thigh to his balls, eliciting a grunt from Steve. “Oh,” he breathes, wanting Bucky to hear it in his voice, how good it is. “Honey, yeah. That’s just right.”

Bucky rolls his balls in his palm lightly, and when Steve tells him that he can tug on them a little, he obeys. “Touch my knot,” Steve whispers, when he can feel it swelling further. He moans unexpectedly loudly when Bucky’s hand closes around it though, and he’s opening his eyes and reaching down to grab Bucky’s wrists in alarm. “Nope, nope nope. No more of that,” he pants, wide-eyed.

Bucky laughs, looking proud. “Why not?”

Steve growls and tugs on Bucky's waist, making him fall down on top of him. “You know why not,” he rumbles, then kisses him firmly on the mouth.

It’s possessive, and Bucky moans into it, his hands curling over Steve’s shoulders and hips grinding down against his abs. They part from the kiss and Bucky sits up, his eyes sparkling. “I liked it though,” he says. He rocks down at a different angle, rubbing his cunt on Steve's belly and smearing his slick all over the place. He giggles when Steve groans and grabs his hips to stop him. “What if that’s what I wanted?” he asks. “What if I want to make you cum with my hands? Or my mouth?”

“Fuck.”

“I want to see it,” he says, eyes hot on Steve and his hips rocking lewdly against him. “One day. I wanna see it happen. In my hands. I want to hold it and see it get big.”

Steve really, really has to close his eyes for a second with that one. He bites the inside of his cheek hard enough to hurt. Because he simply cannot with Bucky and his virginal little attempts at dirty talk right now. “You better watch your mouth,” he warns, his voice sounding like he’s swallowed rocks. “Or you will see it.” Bucky’s grin is magnificent, but Steve raises an eyebrow and reminds him, “Alphas only cum once, Sweetheart. Up to you to decide where my knot is, when that happens.”

It’s adorable, how fast Bucky’s eyes widen at that, and then how he frowns and pouts about not getting to have his cake and eat it, too. Steve waits him out patiently, grateful to have a few seconds’ reprieve (and also fairly certain that he knows which way Bucky’s going to steer things).

“Fine,” Bucky eventually says, sighing dramatically as if he’s making the world’s most difficult choice. Steve grins and digs his fingers firmly into the fleshiness of his hips, preparing to flip them back over. But Bucky grunts in protest, and then he puts his hands on Steve's chest and shoves him back down to the bed with an adorable little omega growl. Steve feels his surge of confidence and playful dominance through the bond, and he grins up at him, understanding what he wants. “Yeah?”

Bucky pulls his bottom lip into his mouth and bites it, a little bit of self-consciousness slipping back in, even as he nods. “Uh huh. Can I?”

Steve groans. He sits up and yanks Bucky against him, one hand threaded into his hair just so he can kiss him, hard, one single time. He falls back down to the bed. “Of course you can,” he tells him, grabbing his hips again and kneading his fingers in. “Go on.”

His enthusiastic response seems to wipe away any remaining traces of Bucky’s doubt. The boy's scent is pure again, unpolluted by shame or uncertainty, and he licks his lips and focuses intently on kneeling up, reaching around behind himself for Steve’s cock, and lining it up with his entrance.

Steve helps him along, holding his dick steady at the base so that Bucky can focus on relaxing and taking him inside his body. “Hey,” he whispers, getting Bucky’s attention back on him. “Keep your eyes on me, okay?” Bucky flushes and exhales shakily at the command. He nods, eyes fixed on Steve’s face even as he lowers himself down and they touch. Steve’s cockhead presses, breaches Bucky’s body, and he sees Bucky’s lips part and his brow pinch.

"Oh."

“Just like that,” Steve soothes, petting his flank with one hand, guiding his hip down with the other. Bucky groans quietly as he sinks down and bottoms out, and Steve rewards him with a deep rumble of approval. “Thaat’s it, Honey. Oh, good boy.”

Bucky mewls and falls forward, bracing both hands on Steve’s chest. His eyes are clamped shut tightly and he starts moving, rocking forwards and back, hard and fast. But Steve only lets him have a moment of that frantic grinding before he’s shushing him and coaxing him to sit back, slow down, and open his eyes. “Yeah,” he says, stroking up to his waist and back down in praise. He tugs and pulls his hips, guiding him into the right motions. “Slow and easy. That’s right. Keep those pretty eyes open so Alpha can see, yeah?” Bucky nods, his pleasure-pained face and desperation for Steve's guidance just about the sweetest, most erotic thing Steve’s ever seen. He nods along encouragingly with Bucky. “Good boy. That's it. Look right at me while you make us feel so good.”

Bucky does, sitting back the way that Steve’s positioned him and learning to roll his hips in that slow, luxurious grind that feels absolutely exquisite. He’s able to keep at it that way for a long while, too, before his breathing eventually starts to pick up, getting heavier and faster, his face and chest gorgeously flushed. The wet sounds of all his slick are more intense, and Steve can tell from the scent of him, from the feeling of his cunt tightening and rippling around his dick, that he’s close to his second orgasm. Steve clenches his jaw and digs his heels into the sheets so he can fuck up against Bucky's grinding. He can feel his knot pulsing, about to swell. “Baby,” he grits out. “M’close.”

“Steve.”

“I’m gonna knot you,” he gasps. “Buck, oh, I’m gonna.”

It’s the first time he’s ever not asked it as a question, but he doesn’t have to worry about consent, because Bucky makes it immediately clear that Steve’s knot is exactly what he wants. “Fuck yeah,” he whines, face crumpling and both of his hands shooting forward to brace on Steve’s chest again. He grinds harder, faster, more desperately like he’d done in the beginning, and this time Steve lets him. He curses and wraps his arms around Bucky’s back when the boy collapses onto him. His knot pops, and Bucky wails and comes.

Steve shouts as he starts to come, too, his balls pulling up tight and his focus narrowing down to nothing but the point where their bodies are joined. God, it feels so good, so good, sofuckinggood. His hips rut mindlessly against their tie and he clutches onto Bucky, muffling his moans in the omega’s neck. He gasps and has to force his mouth away from Bucky’s bonding glands at the last second, when he realizes what he’s aiming for. He pants into the top of his shoulder instead as he comes. He loses track of space and time for that first, excruciating minute of his orgasm, and then flows back into himself for the heavenly three or four minutes of languorous pleasure that follow.

Meanwhile, Bucky pants and grinds himself out to at least one more climax, then collapses on Steve’s chest in sweaty exhaustion. "Oh. Oh, god."

Steve moans and wraps his arms fully around Bucky's waist, hugging their bodies tightly together while his balls keep emptying. "Hmmm," he sighs blissfully, eyes closed and nose buried in Bucky's hair. "'Mega."

Bucky whimpers a little and squirms on his knot, repeating his name in a tired, whispered slur, again and again, right against Steve’s left pec: “Steve, Ssteve … mmm, Ssteeve.”

Steve kisses the top of Bucky’s head and hums some more. He thinks he mumbles something in the general vicinity of, “Luv you,” before he drifts off to sleep, his cock still buried deep and his omega’s adoring, sated whispers still ringing in his ears.

Art: @hopelessartgeek

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plushyvi · 6 months ago

Text

"i need a doctor!"

game: fallout 4

character: paladin danse, arthur maxson

summary: coming back from a mission hurt, and you are determined to fix them up.

warnings: g/n! reader, they/them pronouns used, reader isn't mentioned to be the sole survivor, but can be read as such. injured characters have to reveal some skin (top of uniform taken off)

paladin danse

"proctor ingram, i'd like to speak to the knight that was in charge of overseeing paladin danse's armour before our mission today." you say as you cross arms over your chest. you stood there with an annoyed expression. with danse behind you, standing tall and bulky, it would usually seem like he was protecting you. yet he held this awkward (slightly embarrassed) look on his face.

usually he'd be the one telling off the knight responsible, but you had taken it upon yourself. you looked so upset for him and his wellbeing. danse didn't even think he had to do anything.

proctor ingram took her eyes off of her clipboard, glancing at you from the height of her power armour. she glanced between both you and danse, taking only one look to understand what was going on.

"hello, y/n. what happened? did something go wrong with it?" she inquires.

"it shut down midway through our battle against super mutants, "you explain as you jut a thumb behind you to danse, "i had to call a vertibird for cover so i could rewire everything and get him out of it."

"you're kidding," proctor ingram widens her eyes. she blinks at the two of you. "my god, i apologise, paladin danse. allow me to personally look over your power armour. i'll bring the knight to you, knight-captain y/n."

"thank you. i'll get someone to haul it in from the loading bay," you sigh out. letting her walk away and do what she needed to, you lean against the wall to wait as danse, in his uniform, looks away. "i won't tell them off harshly; i just want to tell them what i fixed and what was wrong."

"i should've done a test run before taking it out for a spin," danse says, rubbing his exposed neck, "i put you in danger."

you stare at him, furrowed brows. scanning him, you could see various cuts and bruises forming around his face and through his uniform. he was in the middle of the battlefield, about to get swarmed. luckily, you had thrown the smoke signal in front of him, covering danse from view. you had to shoot as many bullets as you could in order to hold them back before the vertibird arrived and you could work on getting danse out.

"you were in more danger," you huff out and shake your head, "look at you, danse. after i talk to this knight, i'll help you, okay? you can't patch yourself up like that."

"i... you don't..." he begins, catching your stare, "i'm fine."

you roll your eyes a little at that. danse only frowns, facing the floor. he listens as you (lightly) reprimand the lower ranking knight. he should be the one to do so, but you were so angry on the field that he would feel bad for the knight if they faced both danse and you telling them off.

they were extremely apologetic, telling danse that it was careless of them and they will double check next time. you use your own armour, parked in bay 3, to explain what you had to do to get him out and what you saw was wrong. the knight is grateful you were kind enough to do so.

danse sits in at your desk, facing you as you open the medical supply box attached to your wall.

"you're going to need to take off your shirt," you say, facing away from him, "is that okay?"

"oh, yeah, it's fine." he replies, beginning to pull up his shirt.

you try not to stare at him, despite danse being so nice to look at. he awkwardly laid his shirt on your bed. you take out something to wipe his wounds with. carefully dabbing on some cleansing alcohol, you begin wiping away the dried blood. he winces a little at the stinging, but ultimately settles in. your hand rests on his shoulder as you stand in front of him.

you felt bad; he always relied on his power armour to help him fighting his battles, and in one of the times where it mattered the most, it failed him.

"i'm sorry, danse. i never thought i would ever see your power armour malfunction." you huff, discarding a red tissue into the bin.

"it's fine, y/n," he replies, shaking his head, "you got me out just in time too. i would've been blown up if it weren't for you.”

you were lucky enough to know a good way around power armour. after tinkering with your own for as long as you’ve had it, you were able to undo the latches. you had checked the fusion core too — halfway full.

“yeah, maybe i should ask elder maxson for a raise for saving your ass yet again,” you joke. danse lets out a small chuckle. “how does ‘paladin y/n’ sound to you?”

“sounds fitting, but you wouldn’t be under my guidance anymore,” he claims, watching as you move on to his other arm, “you would have your own team.”

“so much work. i might as well just stay by your side, right?” you say as you glance at danse.

he blinks at your outward flirting before he begins to turn pink. “i, uh, i wouldn’t… oppose to you staying within my team. i am your sponsor, after all.”

“right, my ‘sponsor’,” you chuckle, grabbing another wipe, “just face me, okay?”

he nods, allowing you to clean the cuts on his face. he was not shot, but some scratches were the result of you hastily pulling him out if the armour and it being stuck in an awkward position to get out of. but your tender caressing made him feel so much better.

you were so careful with him. one time, he couldn’t find his helmet, so you gave him yours to use. he complained, saying that you needed one too, but you were only concerned with him.

such a kind soul. it was quite rare in the commonwealth now.

“careful, big guy,” you say. danse begins blinking open his eyes at you. a smile dawns your lips. might fall asleep on my bed. what would maxson think?”

“i’m sorry, i’m… i think i’m tired.” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. his hair was tousled about, unable to keep tidy.

you fix a bandage on his nose. he was still so handsome, something you would tell him from time to time. it always managed to fluster the crap out of him too.

“it’s okay, i’m finished now, danse,” you say as you pack away all your supplies. danse thanks you. “will you make it back to your room alright?”

“yes, knight, i will.”

you stare at him as he winces to grab his shirt on your bed. it was obvious that he was lying. he seemed to be in more pain than he let on. you watch as he attempts to put it on, but him stretching his chest out helps you to observe the large bruises on his skin. a sigh leaves your lips.

“it’s okay, paladin. you can rest here for a few hours,” you tell him. you place a hand on his shoulder. “i won’t tell anyone, only if they ask.”

“that would be extremely—”

“i have to attend a briefing anyway, danse,” you say, gently pushing him to lay down on your bed. lucky you were given your own quarters, or else this would be even worse for the superior officer. "you'll be fine. i'll tell maxson you're still fixing yourself up."

he lays back on your bed, pillow beneath his head. his eyes follow yours and see how you smile at him gently. your kindness knows no bounds. and your warmth helps soothe him. danse melts into your bed.

"i... fine, i will stay for a few hours, but that's it," danse meekly replies. you have a winning smile on your face whilst you lean over him. he can feel his face warming up with how you look at him. the pink hue brushes along his cheeks and his ears. "thank you again, y/n."

"atta' boy, danse." you chuckle. your fingers are gently going through his hair as you sit beside him on the bed. he immediately gulps, pressed lips together and unable to take his eyes off of your face. "be good. call me if you need me, you have my radio frequency if you need it."

"will do," he hums as he gently holds your hand in his. his warmth fell into yours invitingly. "don't leave anything out in the debriefing, alright?"

"even the part before we got ambushed where you told me you missed so much on my last mission with captain kells?"

"you may leave that part out, knight."

you let out a short laugh at that as you show him a hearty smile.

"okay, paladin, sir." you hum out sweetly. you lean down slowly, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. "i will see soon, danse. rest up."

he watches you as you leave him alone in your room and on your comfortable bed. he thinks about you, as he always does, and how you caress his wounds. you were so caring, too kind for this world. and he cherished every moment with you.

his hand rests on his forehead as he sighs. you were so sweet.

arthur maxson

"fuck—"

"shh."

"do not shush me, knight."

"you're being a baby, elder. stop pulling away."

he leans against his desk in his quarters, hands bracing against the steel as you stand in between his legs, holding his chin in your hand. blood dripped down his nose bridge from his recent run in with a mirelurk queen on a recon mission. one of the only times he was off the prydwen, and it resulted in you coming to his rescue after hearing of his absence from the ship.

you were in the middle of another endeavour before danse reached out to you through your radio frequency to inform you that a scribe got word of maxson's situation. he sent you as you were closer and he was on his way.

with no power armour, you managed to save the leader as soon as you can. but maxson was already plenty wrecked by the time you got there. once back on the prydwen, you dragged maxson by the hook of his shirt to his room to get him fixed. the elder muttered out broken orders, telling you to let him go and stop, but he was utterly embarrassed. his soldiers watched as a mere knight quite literally made him follow after.

"this is why you aren't a medic," maxson hisses out at you as he leans away. you deadpan and shake your head as you drop the bloodied tissue into the bin beside you. "i can do this myself, knight. i don’t require your assistance for this."

"you said the exact same thing back in the commonwealth," you huff out at him. the elder was so prideful. he looked away when you stared at him. "i know what i'm doing, maxson, you just need to be a big boy for me. just for a few minutes, okay?"

his ears glow red before he wipes his face. when he drops his hand, you resume your work. maxson's furrowed brows don't drop; he feels vulnerable under your touch with how warm it was. you hold his face again to wipe away the rest of the blood that covered his face. his face is fixed in an angry expression as you tried to clean up his face.

"well you won't need stitches," you explain. you open the medkit next to him and grab some bandages. you unwrap a bandaid to place on his nose bridge. "and you're lucky it isn't broken. give me your hand."

he does so, resting his knuckles in your palm. you roll your eyes with a shake of your head.

"i cannot believe you tried to use a knife against a mirelurk queen, arthur," you scowl at him. he half-lids his eyes and looks at you. "it's like you wanted me to come and save you."

"despite you saving me, i am still your superior. do not call me 'arthur'." he orders you. he pulls his hand away after you've bandaged it.

you deadpan.

"whatever you say, elder maxson." you say spitefully.

you continue to help him in silence, which makes maxson only more annoyed. you looked like it was now a chore to help him. he could have you do the recon mission that he failed, or literally anything else, but here you were, tending to his wounds.

"speak what's on your mind." he speaks up once noticing your expression.

"i don't have anything to say, sir." you mumble back to him. you moved to the slices on his shoulder.

he was quite confused (and flustered) when you told him to take off his shirt upon entering his room. you had to explain that you needed to see his wounds, which made him rest better.

"it isn't wise to lie to me, knight," he warns you as he tilts his head. you look at him with knitted brows. "just... tell me."

you blink at him before letting out a sigh. you first finish up putting bandages over his cuts and wiping away all the blood that stained his skin.

“you… you don’t know combat like us, maxson,” you exclaim, “and that’s going to get yourself killed. don’t run into missions as trivial as that one. the brotherhood needs you.”

“i can decide for myself, knight,” he responds as you wipe the blood off your hands, “do you forget who gives out orders?”

“you’re always like this,” you scowl. you have your hand on your hip as you glare as him. “elder maxson, with all due respect, i believe that my short time here outweighs your firsthand iq of the commonwealth as of now. i understand that you are finally getting out of there, but what’s the point of getting yourself killed over something so small?”

“that recon mission was not small.” he huffs back.

you stare at him a little before you let out a sigh. you step forward a bit and gently wrap your arms around his waist. he stiffens.

“i don’t wan’t you getting killed out there, arthur,” you say against his nape, “if you’re going on a mission, i want to be informed. i want to come with you.”

he freezes up at your warmth mixing with his and he closes his eyes. a hand rests on your upper back, begging you closer.

“very well then, knight. i will be sure to inform you next time,” maxson says to you with a content smile, “you… must care a lot about me.”

“what a stupid thing to say.” you retort.

he tries not to take it to heart and instead get used to how you tease him. you’ve always been like this, ever since he met you. your character never disappointed him. while you were more casual with him than he’d like you to be around others, he admired you.

“pardon me, i didn’t hear that,” maxson mumbles. he starts pulling away a little to get a look at your face. you’re smiling a little. “care to share with me what is so funny?”

“no, nothing, elder maxson,” you respond to him, “it’s just silly. you’re an elder taking orders from a knight.”

"get out of my room."

"i'm joking, arthur!" you begin to chuckle again. your hands rest on his shoulders to push him back against the desk again. his annoyed face only makes you smile more. "you need to rest now. it's late. you can't be standing there in your office waiting for me to come back every single second."

"i... i do no such thing." he claims.

"mhm," you say with a raised brow. you see his begin to turn pink before you tilt your head. "knight lucia told me that scribes often visit you throughout the day to give you word on my whereabouts."

"i do so for many people," he retorts as he crosses his arms over his chest. he puffs it out, attempting to look tougher. but you don't waver. "i have to keep a close eye on you, especially — you are always running amuck in the commonwealth. it is bad for the brotherhood to have hoodlums doing such things."

"i'm flattered that you hold me above the rest of the knights," you say to him as you place a hand over your chest in mock sincerity. he rolls his eyes at you, but can't stop the slight smile on his face. "i suppose i should make sure i'm on my best behaviour for you, then, sir."

"good," is all he says back to you. he stares at your face and how it falls slightly at his response. it elicits a slightly chuckle from him before he reaches out and holds your hand. "thank you, knight. you did a satisfactory job, considering your lack of proper medical training."

you stand up straight and smile at him softly. you were glad that you were able to get closer to him, despite him pulling away every so often. it seemed now that he was warming up to you.

"you're welcome, arthur," you mumble out quietly. leaning forward, you press a chaste kiss against his scarred cheek. he doesn't pull away this time at your affection. rather, he moves his neck closer to you for a better angle. you hold his other cheek in your other hand, letting your fingers brush against his warm skin. "get some rest, okay? i'll finish off your mission for you."

"alright," maxson says with a nod of his head. you step away from him before you grab your weapons you left on his desk. you pick up your pistol and combat knife to shove it in it's cover. meanwhile, maxson stretches his arms and watches you. "be careful out there, soldier."

"will do, elder maxson." you flash him a sweet smile before heading out of his room. he notices how loudly you exit, as if you wanted everyone to know that you were with the superior officer, in his room, alone.

he wipes his face with a groan. you were such a handful.

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