#i hope people read tags because that's where i shine if i do say so myself

[brakecheck]

this gq photoshoot of fernando actually told me personally that a florist au is necessary

[fallow-hollow]

five stages of grief

…ft! kabru x gn! oblivious! reader

…tags! pining, confession, kabru is a bit of a freak about this, oblivious reader, reader is an adventurer

…word count! 2671

…notes! spreading my kabruganda to the masses!!! kabru is my me so I very much enjoy writing him

denial

At first, Kabru was so convinced that there was something behind your happy-go-lucky exterior.

You were so skilled in the dungeon, able to make it down to floors that even he hadn’t traversed yet. So you must have a good grasp on tactics, not only in battle, but also when socializing! Yes, maybe you read people expertly when they’d respond in kind to your friendly behavior…..

During the stage where you’re acquainted but don’t know much about each other personally, he spends so long crafting theories about what’s going on inside your head.

His party members get sick of hearing about it halfway through the second week.

Once you meet again in person, he’s ecstatic to have an opportunity to take a closer look at your inner workings. His words and mannerisms are calm and purposeful, but there is a certain spark in his eyes, almost trying to illuminate your thoughts and feelings with its shine.

Over the course of the conversation, Kabru starts getting a bit confused at his lack of new findings about you. It takes you saying something particularly damning for him to finally reach the dreaded conclusion.

“I don’t usually run into you in places like this.”

Kabru had encountered you one evening after exiting his room and seeing you and a few party members at the bar. It was nothing short of a strike of luck, and most certainly not him deliberately staying home that evening because he’d overheard your plans to go out.

“Hm?” You perked up, looking at him with a blank expression that was quickly replaced with a kind smile. Even trying to look closely, he couldn’t find anything present in your face except for a simple joy.

He would approach you with long strides, placing one hand on the back of your chair as to be friendly and intimate, but not so intimate as to make you recoil from a touch. The wink he gave you was with the eye facing away from the others on the opposite side of the table, ensuring most of them wouldn’t notice his flirtatious gesture.

“Want me to buy you a drink?”

Immediately, you raised one hand in polite refusal, your smile turning into more of a sheepish one. “Oh, I don’t know if I’d be able to pay you back. I wasn’t going to splurge much tonight anyway….”

As you talked, Kabru pulled up a free chair and sat down, a gesture that cemented himself in the conversation and setting. He noticed when he sat down in the middle of conversation, it made people less likely to turn him away than if he were still standing.

“No, no.” when he shook his head, his dark curls did a swishing movement. Once he looked back at you, he gave a half-lidded smile, only a tinge sultry in hopes you’d pick up his hints. “Your company is more than enough payment for me.”

Your party could only stare on with absolute pity as you waved your previously raised hand dismissively, giving what Kabru could only assume was a reassuring nod. Why did you think he needed reassured….? What did you think he meant?

“It’s completely fine, no need to be polite! We’re beyond such niceties at this point, I’d say. After all, I consider us to be at least a little bit friends, right? You don’t need to buy me a drink just to hang out!”

For a brief period, Kabru felt as if his whole world was spinning around him, before then shattering at the unknowing sledgehammer of your words. These statements and mannerisms suggested something far more than just a passive rejection…… no, it was something much darker.

You truly were as dense as a brick wall.

anger

Kabru doesn’t always react….. too calmly when people defy his expectations.

He’s able to keep a smile on his face just fine, but on the inside he’s screaming.

What do you mean there isn’t more? Where’s the scheme? The ulterior motive? The familiar secrets he can unravel and use to his advantage? Is it so bad that he wants there to be more?????

I’ll be honest, the man experiences his fair number of homicidal thoughts about you. In a strangely romantic way!

You’ll be chatting away with him, each remark and flirtation absolutely flying over your head, and inside his mind he’s just going I should gut them right here and sort their bones and vitals by size if they won’t let me dissect them the mental way.

And then seconds later he’ll go haha what was that! Anyway yes tell me more about the cute bird you saw last week.

I think Kabru does a lot of journaling, so he has a fair number of notes about you. Sometimes they’re drawings of you with notes about your appearance and physical mannerisms, other times he writes more free form about his thoughts regarding you. When he gets particularly frustrated, the writing can became scratchy or heavy handed to the point that it’s unreadable or nearly tears the paper.

The silence and solitude of the night was briefly interrupted by Rin rolling over in her sleeping bag. She was just beyond the range of the firelight where Kabru was still writing, and he could only barely see the way she squinted at him through her own tiredness.

“What are you scribbling about so late at night?” The mage would try to start another sentence, but be cut off by a yawn. If she was trying to be intimidating, it certainly wasn’t working. “Go to bed, Kabru, or else you’ll wake up to being sprayed by an undine if I have anything to say about it.”

That was a rather unpleasant thought….. even if the threat wasn’t legitimate, Kabru recognized that he’d probably spent far more time writing than intended. It was embarrassingly easy to get distracted when it came to you….just another thing that irked him about you. Yes…..’irked’. That’s most certainly the word.

“I’ll wrap it up soon, sorry to disturb your sleep, Rin.” With a grumble, the girl rolled back over, leaving Kabru to glance at his notebook for just a brief moment more before closing it. The writing was near illegible, but he still knew the words by heart:

‘I wouldn’t mind if they were scared of me. Maybe, if they sat on the other end of my sword, trembling and wide-eyed like human prey, I’d get to see a truly untouched side of them.’

bargaining

After the shock and rage subsides, Kabru tries to make you realize his feelings through pretty much every method imaginable except for confessing.

It feels like the man always appears at your side, always claiming he ‘happened to be in the area’ or something similar. And you never even question it, infuriatingly for him.

Your party members often tell you that something is up with the guy, that he’s hanging around you a suspicious amount but never being fully transparent, but you’d feel so bad about being suspicious of him when he’s done nothing but inquire about you and even offer gifts on rare occasions!

Kabru isn’t exactly the richest of adventurers, so gifts or treating you isn’t a regular occasion, but it’s certainly something he resorts to as a last ditch effort to try and get you to realize that he’s interested in you romantically.

Once he even tried to offer you a flower, but you still didn’t take the hint.

When you saw the flower in Kabru’s hand that day, your first thought was being so flattered that he remembered your conversation about which ones you both liked.

“Oh, Kabru!” You exclaimed with pure joy, causing the man to become embarrassingly excited that perhaps you had finally noticed the meaning behind all his gestures. Were you finally moved and wowed by his considerate, perfectly planned gift.

Clapping your hands together, you would beam and say, “You liked my favorite flower so much that you wanted to get one for yourself?”

A fly could’ve soared down Kabru’s throat in the time of that pause, but you paid it no mind, instead eagerly awaiting his reply.

The look on Kabru’s face was a completely blank smile, his bright blue eyes seeming to have almost burned out like a pair of oil lamps. Then, as he regained his composure, those lights flickered back on again, albeit wavering slightly.

“Are you sure you don’t want to take it yourself? If you like it so much, I’d be happy to let you take it home.” Poor Kabru, he should have learned by now that hints have no effect against the impenetrable fortress that is your cluelessness.

Your grin was the nail in the coffin, letting him know you had something in your head that was absolutely not anything he could anticipate from anyone else. “But why not use it as some decoration? Your party members always talk about how sparse your room is, and it could even remind you of me when I’m away! Here—“

You ushered him closer, a hand now on the small of his back giving him sparks that teetered between pleasurable and painful. The free hand gestured to the plant he held so delicately, pointing out different features like the petals, stem, and so on. “I can even tell you some facts about it; that’ll help you enjoy it that much more deeply whenever you see it! And you’ll remember our conversation!”

The way you could be so resistant to his advances yet so sweet to him could be nothing short of torturous sometimes.

depression

For a while, something fairly rare happens to Kabru: he falls into a slump.

He spends a long time in the dungeon, slashing away at monsters as if it might help him clear his head. His teammates notice that he can get more aggressive in combat than usual, but never really ask him about it.

He also becomes more spacey during mealtimes, and while some peaceful silence is nice, having Kabru of all people be so uncharacteristically quiet for so long.

It comes to the point that something similar to an intervention happens one day after dinner.

“What’s up with you, Kabru?” Mickbell wasn’t one to beat around the bush, immediately starting his line of questioning while looking at his teammate, void of mischief or amusement. “You’ve been all broody and silent all week. Can’t just expect us to not ask about it.”

“What Mickbell said,” Kuro concurred almost immediately after.

The tallman did his best to blink away his tiredness and offer a more confident look that he usually used when trying to rally his team under an idea or calm them down. “I didn’t mean to make you guys worry that much about me. It’s just something I’ve been personally interested in, so it’s not something you guys need to worry about.”

“A personal problem?” Rin cocked a brow. “If I know anything about what interests you, it’s probably a person.”

“Haha, caught me red-handed like always.” He raised his hands in faux surrender, though Rin didn’t seem to be put at ease by the gesture, so he tacked on another statement. “I was surprisingly stumped on what tactics to use when talking to a certain person, it’s really got me thinking.” Averting his gaze to the side, he could almost conjure an image of your grinning face in the corner of his vision. “It’s pretty exciting, though, so I don’t mind.”

“Ugh, I knew it!” The half foot threw his head back in exasperation, causing Kuro to extend one arm behind him in case he fell. “It’s that brick-headed adventurer you’re getting all cozy with, isn’t it?! What, you thinking of starting a new party?”

While Mickbell was busy stomping his foot to punctuate his accusation, Holm merely hummed. The gnome usually stayed pretty impartial to matters like this, but that didn’t mean he could always resist throwing in a comment or two.

“I’d be stumped too if I thought about human interaction like a battlefield.” His tone of voice remained soft, but his words were still quite pointed. “You really have to be upfront about your feelings sometimes, you know that? At least, if Mick’s description can actually be trusted.”

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?!”

After those two broke down into petty squabbling, Kabru could merely try his best to mask his realization behind a tight-mouthed grin.

Holm was right, and he hated it more than anything.

acceptance

Okay, this is the part where Kabru actually bites the bullet and talks about his feelings. Truly a miracle of life.

Kabru can have a lot of trouble being fully vulnerable due to feeling like he’s losing control, so he does his best to maintain control over the rest of the outing. He arranges the time, location, even makes sure to get there first. It’s the most he can do to not feel completely helpless at the whims of his own fickle heart.

When you arrive, a new wave of nervousness hits him that’s almost like nothing before. Kabru has slain men without a second thought, and here he is resisting the urge to tremble because he has to tell his crush he likes them.

He starts off with small talk, sort of building up to his confession while also beating around the bush just a little. Asking you how you’ve been, if you’ve done anything noteworthy, if you’ve meet any new people…..

Eventually, Kabru decides that if he waits any longer, he may instinctually try to hide his intentions in the long strings of small talk he’s making, so he finally takes that leap.

He said your name, and your eyes flickered up to his face. Even if you were spacey at times, you never stared past him or through him whenever he was addressing you. It made him feel….strange. It was odd to feel truly perceived at times.

“Can I be….. terribly honest with you?” He cards his fingers through his curls and closes his eyes, and you couldn’t help but notice how effortlessly beautiful he looked.

“Of course,” you responded without thinking. Not like you ever needed to think twice about your appreciation for the man. More than that, really.

There was stillness, and all you could hear was Kabru’s deep inhale through his nose. He intended to phrase it more eloquently, he really did, but when he opened his eyes again and saw you waiting on his words with baited breath, there was this instinctive fear that maybe this would be his only chance. That you would walk away or disappear, leaving him with only the memory.

He didn’t want just a memory.

“I want you to know that I love you above all else.”

Your mouth hung agape like his had many times in response to your own remarks. Were it not for how shocked he was at his own words, he would have chuckled at how cute you look.

Before he could even scramble to elaborate on his uncharacteristically blunt comment, you blurted out in a similar fashion, voice slightly raised and head perked up,

“You really feel that way?!”

Faced with your blushing face, Kabru could only affirm the feelings that you promoted from somewhere deep within him. “Yes, I’d been trying to win you over for a long time, really.”

If you were flushed before, then now you were nothing short of flooded with embarrassment from ear to ear. Despite this, you were smiling, wobbly and sheepish. “I mean, it’s not like I’m shocked in a bad way or anything — I always thought you were really wonderful, too wonderful for me anyway. I really never thought you were pursuing me of all people!”

For the longest time, your denseness had given Kabru untold grief. Upon seeing you state it so plainly, however, he just couldn’t find it in his heart to be upset. Not when it was one of the things that made you so fascinating.

“I’d sort of figured as such, yeah.”

[thecordelialetters]

She's my Angel I Five Hargreeves x Reader

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Post Apocalypse Au! Pt2 Pt3

WC: ~3,258 Warnings/Tags: Sexual Tension, Mentions of Abuse, Agedup!Five, Mentions of previous trauma, 18+

Summary: The Umbrella Academy saved the world, the Commission is no longer after them, the moon is in one piece and everyone’s lives start to fall back into place. Five attempts to start his life over again when Klaus brings home a girl with unusual shadow powers. ⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡

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The Apocalypse was over and Five Hargreaves did what he did best, drink and cope. The first few weeks of freedom he tried things he had missed early on in his childhood. It started when Viktor took him shopping for a new, more appropriate wardrobe, that someone who looked his age would wear. Then he would often visit the park just to admire the beauty of places that were once a baron landscape. And sometimes he just spent his time reading catching up on what he missed in the last few years.

But old habits die hard when you spend 54 years alone and the next 2 weeks desperate to save yourself and save your family. Maybe Klaus was right when he called the apocalypse his drug because, for a while, it was all he’d ever know.

Five hadn’t slept well in a long time and despite his newfound freedom without the looming feeling of impending doom. He would find himself waking up at 4 am to check his window and just to see if everything was real.

The Academy had been empty for a bit, the first week his family had stayed back to collect themselves, celebrate, and appreciate one another but slowly their lives fell back into place. Allison went back to Claire wanting to get back her career and her daughter back. Luther wanted to find his independence and took a small helping from his inheritance to live on his own. Diego and Lila had also moved out in hopes of continuing to grow their relationship and perhaps find happiness in normalcy. Viktor, now confident in himself wanting to explore the world more began traveling and meeting new people. To Five it felt like everyone had moved on, except him. He had been the one to jump through time, and now he felt like he was stuck in it.

However this morning, his silent coffee and breakfast time was interrupted but a surprisingly sober Klaus barging through the door with a girl no taller than 5���3 who looked as if she had been dragged through the mud and a forest in his arms.

“I didn’t know where to bring her she ran into me frantic and couldn’t speak much,”

“There wasn’t anyone chasing her so I have no idea where she came from and she’s in pretty bad shape.”

Klaus looked panicked, he felt bad for the beat-up girl in his arms but what could he do besides bring her to the place he knew could help her best.

Grace and Pogo immediately took action, bringing the girl into the spare room to care for her wounds.

“What makes you think you can just bring random people in here? She could be dangerous?”

Five arched his eyebrow at Klaus’s behavior. He wasn’t a trusting man but he trusted his brother’s intuition and the girl genuinely looked like she needed help.

“I couldn’t just leave her on the road. I’m not a bad person Five. There’s something different about her I swear.”

Five looked distrustful at what his brother was saying.

“Well, we’ll just have to see when she wakes up.”

The two went back to doing their own things in the Academy waiting for you to wake up.

————————-3 days later————————

The sun shone brightly in the room you stayed at. Your eyes slowly opened, blinking harshly to adjust to the shining light. You had no idea where you were, this new place was uncomfortable and unfamiliar. Warm wood furniture decorated the walls, and the mattress you slept on seemed more comfy, soft, and warmer than your old hay-filled cot. Unsurprisingly your wounds ached but were clean nevertheless. You jumped when the door swung open to reveal a monkey? no an ape? in a suit. "Ah you're finally awake, Ill let the others know"

"I am Pogo by the way, please rest, we don't want your stitches reopening." Maybe it was the exhaustion catching up to you, but you listened to his words and laid back, staring at the large high ceilings waiting to see if whoever brought you here would be like your old doctors. Back downstairs Pogo noticed Five pacing around in the living room. "Any troubles worrying you?" "Yes that girl, I can't find any information about her, she had no ID, no name card, I even looked around the area trying to track back where she came from, and nothing." Five glanced around, more cautious of his surroundings

"What if the commission sent her?" "This is not good, not good at all"

And with a quick turn, he teleported to the room of which his unwelcome guest occupied. A flash of blue interrupted your daydreams when a boy about your age in a green flannel, cargo pants, with slightly long side parted hair entered your space. Besides appearing out of nowhere he looked almost normal, but that didn't stop you from being scared. Shivering you pushed yourself back on the bed as far as you could to try to get away from him. Sensing your fear Five held out his hands as a way to show you some form of peace. Lowering one hand he slowly approached you. But the closer he came the farther back you shuffled. Something wasn't right Five thought. You were terrified of him, what had happened to you to cause you to be in such a state.

Hey Im not going to hurt you, I don't know who you are but Im not going to hurt you." Five could see that you weren't budging so he reached into his pocket and pulled out a hazelnut toffee-flavored candy. He wasn't a big fan of sweets but had kept some from his last visit to a local coffee shop. "Here you must be a little hungry, it's good to see." He popped it in his mouth to show her that it was safe, not a trick. Slowly you reached out and touched his hand, grabbing the little treat, unwrapping it before letting the gooey sweet melt on your tongue. Five smiled at your reaction. "See? It was good." He thought you looked adorable with big doe eyes waiting to see if he had any more. He reached into his right pocket and pulled out another handle full of candies. "Ill give you one each time you answer a question. Can you do that for me?" You nodded slowly. "Okay, can you tell me your name?" "Angel" you pointed to yourself "Five" you pointed to him. You had heard Klaus shouting his name when you entered the house. "Angel? Do you have a last time?" "Five. Five Hargreeves" He pointed to himself. "Angel" You repeated. Okay maybe you didn't have a last name that was fine, at least he had gotten a name. He gave you another candy and watched you excitedly open it. "Okay Angel, another question where did you come from? Who or what were you running from?" "Doctor" you responded looking down. "What Doctor? What did he do to you." You felt like you should have known better than to trust the boy in front of you, but he looked so earnest so sweet, that you decided to show him your secret. Opening your fist a ball of shadows appeared in your hand before you tossed it into the air letting whatever light was in the room dissipate. Five knew what this had suggested. Whoever took you, held you captive, and experimented on you. Perhaps they were trying to make you into one of the unlucky 43. Another candy was handed to you.

“Show me more” Five demanded. You blinked at him slowly before he put another candy in your hand. “Show me.”

You looked at him and brought both your hands up into the air. He watched shadows run from the ground into the room and swirl around you. It appeared you could summon shadows at your will and control them.

“Good girl” and another candy as placed in your hand. "Tell me, Angel, do you know where or who it was? Do you know the name of the commission?" You stared at him blankly not understanding what he said. Before Five could ask any more questions Klaus had burst through the door. "My Angel! You are okay !" As he rushed towards you to grab your face. Stunned you jolted back from his presence. "Angel, that's why she called herself that, it's not her name, it’s what you called her!" Five went to smack Klaus in the back of the head when his hand was stopped by a shadow. "No hurt, Klaus friend" With heart eyes, Klaus dove into Angel's arms "LOOK AT MY ANGEL PROTECTING ME!!" With the gentleness of a newborn deer, Angel reached out to Klaus with a small sweet in her hand. "Candy?" "For me? Of course, Angel thank you!" Rolling his eyes at the scene Five teleported to his room to think. Where had this girl come from she had no name could barely speak and had a dark power with unknown consequences. Angel clad in Umbrella Academy uniform, and Klaus were in the living room when a flash appeared in the doorway. "Cinco! Where are you off to?" "Library I need to do some research." But just before he would reach for the doorknob a body was flung into his back. "Here take Angel with you, she needs a new set of clothes, can't have her wearing this uniform, you know all about that wouldn't you?" Klaus said as he shoved Angel forward. "I don't have time, I'm not a babysitter." Five expressed as he grabbed your arms and pushed you back. "Five...mad?" You looked up at Five with tears in your eyes. Reaching out to his face with his hand you softly pet his cheek. "Five...happy. Happy"

The time travelers face softened at the kindness you showed while trying to console him.

“I’m sorry Angel, yes Five is happy. Come on let’s go.”

He grabbed your hand ignoring the feeling of his heart when your soft skin wrapped around his.

————————-In the Car—————————

“Alright Angel, as cute as you look in the uniform we have to get you some normal clothes.”

Five looked over at you, but you were looking out the window. His green eyes passed over the cuts on your legs and the faint but visible bruises on your neck. It wondered him how someone could do this to you, turn a girl who seemed like an Angel into a shadow user. He parked the car at Gimble's before flashing to your side of the door to open it, Five was still a gentleman after all. "Okay now Angel, we're here to buy you some new clothes." You nodded your head to show you understood him and hopped out of the car excited to see the world around you. Being locked up for so long you had forgotten what the outside world looked like. Today the sky was blue with warm gusts of winds filling the air. People and families were seen chattering about. You reached out to grab Five's arm and pulled him closer to the store. Five chucked at your childlike antics, letting himself be whisked away by you. You dragged him to the dress section; some of the kinder doctors had given you books to look at to pass the time, many of them being princess books. There were cute frilly dresses that caught your eye immediately. Rushing forward you grabbed 3 dresses that might have suited you. With a sigh Five grabbed your shoulders wanting to tell you to go find some more practical everyday clothes. But after seeing the glimmer in your eye as if you found the most priceless thing...he couldn't bear take that away from you. "Come on Princess, let's go try them on." He ushered you to the changing room and waited outside. As he turned his back you grabbed his hand, but Five had yanked it back at the unexpected contact. He wasn't completely used to physical touch yet.

Ignoring this you grabbed his hand once more and tried to take him into the dressing room with you. "No Angel I can't go with you, just put on the dresses inside and Ill wait out here."

You had refused to let go of his hand. With another sign he allowed himself to be pulled into the confined space of the changing room. You quickly shimmied out of the uniform skirt and tie throwing it into a random corner. Five's face turned a deep scarlet red, although he was an older man the sight of your small and barely clothes body was enough to make him shift in his pants. Before he could embarrass himself any further he blinked out into the waiting room fanning his face as if he ran a marathon. There were small warning signs in his brain, don't get too attached, she doesn't know better, please don't get a boner right now. Trying to collect himself he put his hands in his face wanting to be anywhere but here right now. You interrupted his train of thought when you came out bouncing with a big smile on your face. The dress you picked out was a cute white summer dress that was white had thick straps tied on your shoulders. The skirt part stopped right above your knees and flared out with a twirl. You looked absolutely adorable, an Angel who wielded the power of a devil. "You look...beautiful" Five muffled through his hand. "Beautiful?" You questioned. "Yes you, Angel, you are beautiful." And as if your smile couldn't get any bigger, you ran and jumped into Five, his arms slowly wrapping around your frame to prevent you from falling.

"Five! Beautiful!" You smiled and pointed at him. Your fingers had graced his cheeks into a smile. Pointing at his dimple "Five! Beautiful" you repeated. "Oh, you think I'm beautiful Angel?" Five couldn't help but also feel happy and continue smiling, something about you felt like a breath of fresh air. His last few weeks had been nonstop paranoia and feeling the effects of an identity crisis, but hearing your laughter and seeing you call him beautiful, it felt as if he was actually living again. However, that didn't stop the nagging fear in the back of his mind of where you came from and what had happened to you. Perhaps it was the assassin in him that just couldn't let him...enjoy a moment. "Come on Angel, let’s get the rest of the dresses and pay. We need to head to the library before it closes." You nodded your head and skipped off to grab the rest of your dresses and clothes. You and Five stood at the cashier waiting to pay. "That will be 45.78." Five pulled out a 50 and felt your head lean on his shoulder. "Five, thank you." You looked up at him with a mischievous gleam in your eye. As he was retrieving his change you leaned up and placed your soft lips on the corner of his mouth. "Five happy?" He looked down at you and blushed "Yes Five is very happy." ————————The Library—————————- You were sat in Five's lap flipping through a picture book while he was doing research. Unfortunately, there was almost no information about any kind of suspicious activities in the area where they had found you or even how you even got to the city. Five had to expand his research on places that might have to do with experimental tests but with so little access he was found himself at a dead end. "Nothing! Absolutely Nothing!" Five yelled before slamming his notebook on the table. You jumped in his lap and covered your ears, eyes filling with heavy teardrops waiting to fall. "Shit Angel Im sorry come here." He cooed wrapping his arms around you for the fourth time today. Five pressed a kiss to the top of your hair and inhaled slowly. You smelt like a blooming meadow and a hint of cinnamon. Closing his eyes he rested his head on yours. It wasn't been often when he felt a peace like this, heck he didn’t even remember the last time he felt calm, other than when he was drinking or passed out after a mission. Your eyelashes fluttered on his neck as you began to press small kisses on his jawline. "Come on Angel what are you doing?" "Make Five happy. Kiss you" You mumbled and continued leaving marks on his neck and jaw. Five clenched his fists around you "Angel if you keep this us I'm not going to be able to hold back." Five groaned as he pulled you closer into his lap. And with his last bit of resolve, he blinked you guys back into the car. "Come on Angel let's go home." He kissed your cheek slightly to assure you he wasn't mad and drove the two of you back. ————————the academy———————--- "Mi hermano and Angel ! You guys are back" Klaus shouted from the couch he was currently lying on. You ran into the living room jumping in front of Klaus to show off your dress.

"My cutie Angel! You look so pretty!"

Klaus then swept you off your feet and into a fit of giggles. Five, who had been observing the scene from the bar was actively trying to fight off the green monster that was creeping up his heart. "Leave her alone Klaus we had a long day. Come on Angel let's have your shower and get ready for bed." It was obvious you needed to be cared for and Five had already begun to assume the role. Pulling out some extra pajamas Five had in his wardrobe he handed them to you before showing you the bathroom. "Shower here and come back to my room when you are done okay?" You nodded back and went into the bathroom. With a sign Five flopped on his back in bed wondering more about you. How could someone he just met cause him to feel such a way? Maybe it was his messed up time-traveling brain that was causing these emotions but deep down he knew he had a hidden attraction to you. He began to think more about your powers. You couldn't be part of the 43 because you were too young but you also showed an understanding of your abilities and more control than Viktor did when he first found out about his. Five would have to talk to you after you shower about your abilities. Small footsteps padded outside his room before stopping. The door swung open and there you stood wrapped in only a small towel Grace had given you. Five green eyes turned wide as you skipped into his room.. You had turned to grab the pajamas he had left you on the bed and dropped your towel. Five sat up instantly, his eyes wandered over the curve of your breasts and the plumpness of your backside. Being in the apocalypse and focused on getting back home to his family never allowed him much time for romance or women, besides Delores. You stood up as bare as the day you were born, nipples perked up at the cold air and you put the silk top and bottom on. Now properly clothed you turned to Five who was staring at you with eyes that rivaled a burning sun. In a blink, he was in front of you grabbing your waist with such a force it felt like you would disappear if he let go. Bringing his lips to your neck he kissed gently and dragged his face to meet your eyes. Soft despreate lips met plump shy ones as you and Five melted into each other. The kiss grew hungry, more desperate, both parties missing the feel of one another. The two of you fell back onto the bed with Five on top of you. Two souls both isolated from the world finally finding solstice in one another. All the questions Five had for you were gone from his mind, the only thing replacing it was the thought of how your body felt against his. A small hand reached into the front of Five's pants. "I want to help Five" You had whispered into his ear. It was going to be a long night.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ Authors note : I kinda of wrote this on a whim in the middle of the night. I’d want to make this into a full series although and go really in depth about Angel who she is and how she got her powers and I defiantly want to bring back the rest of the Hargreaves but I'm not sure when Ill have another creative burst.

[sadistic-kiss]

Nanami Knows Best

What's Best

Nanami is tired of your poor choice of men so he takes matters into his own hands. 

TAGS: Dubious Consent, Knife Play, Degrading, Dacryphilia, Bondage, Praise

Genre: Some Angst, Dark Romance, Possessive, Obssessive 

Yandere/Slasher Nanami x Reader

****************************************************

Your giggles tickle Nanami’s ears like little bell chimes. He always enjoyed it when you laughed or smiled. It made him feel warm. However, he wasn't feeling that sweet delight that squeezed his heart… not right now. Right now he was feeling irritated. Pissed. All because he wasn't the cause of such a beautiful laugh, no it was the mouth breather who had his arm slung around your shoulder. 

“Guys this is Mahito.” You introduced the bluette to the group with an excited chirp.

"Sup!"

Jerk number five. 

“Nice to meet you Mahito~.” Gojo shook the man’s hand as he greeted each person.

“So you're the guy I've been hearing so much about?” Shoko winked.

“I hope all good things.” Mahito looked toward you with a smirk. 

“Of course!” You shimmy into him playfully. “You're my perfect man~.”

Your newest boyfriend. 

After rounding the table the man reached his weird stitched hand toward him. Where did you find this one out of the mental hospital? He disregarded his hand giving him a nod instead. “Nanami.” 

“Oo~ Nanami is a bit weird with germs.” you whispered quickly trying to ease the tension between them. He wasn't weird with germs but he allowed you to think that so he didn't have to physically interact with waste. 

“No worries! Germaphobe Kento huh?” 

“Nanami.”he corrected.

“I heard so much about you!” the drunk disrespectful bastard continued, “Heard you were real smart and all, a true brainy guy. Like the big-headed kid from the cartoons uuuuh...” he began to snap his fingers, “John- Josh-”

”Jimmy Neutron!” you laughed as the two of you busted up in a cackle. 

“Yeaaah! Jimmy Neutron!”

Nanami let out a short snort as he sipped his drink. The table giggled in drunken fun. After that little joke, he allowed everyone else to talk. Mahito would pick on him but he never bit back. Never took the obvious bait. Nanami was quiet, always had been. You learn more about someone by watching them closely. People were like open books, you just needed to know how to read them. 

Nanami likes to observe, and as he scrutinized your new boy toy he wanted to roll his eyes. He truly wasn't impressed with this one. The rest of the table seemed fine with him but that's because they were too oblivious to see how textbook this whole thing was. It always started like… this. The cute little honeymoon phase where you introduce the new guy to your friends and they gush and get excited for you. Where you ignore all the obvious red flags and let them slap you in the face. 

It was pitiful honestly. 

The guy could say anything and you'd give him whatever. Money, time, ass, your damn dignity. Just like the rest of them. You let these deadbeats in and they take and take from you until you have nothing more to give and when they leave you broken and crying you run to Shoko. Last time, Shoko was away so you had called him. 

You cried and cried and vowed to never do this to yourself again- he truly believed you yet look at you now. You silly... silly girl. You always do this don't you? It's like you can't help it. You were a smart woman. No debt, great credit score, graduated college early, paid for all your things, and shine in your career. You worked really hard to get to where you were. Summer classes, extra credit, internships, volunteering, you name it. You built yourself up and now you were letting homeless idiots break you down. You were booksmart but you were not street smart. 

Unfortunately, you followed the very trope of- good girl dates bad guy. You think you can change them huh? Give them a place to crash when the go on a drug binge and as they steal your money and lie to you you just nod and smile thinking you see the good in them. When were you going to grow out of it? Aren't you too old for this? Whatever happened to 'fool me once shame on you fool me twice shame on me? What the hell is fool me five times? 

Clearly, you were sick in the head to be going down this same path again for the fifth time. 

More sick than he was, and that was really saying something. He wiped the earth with scum bags like your shitty boyfriends. He even enjoyed doing it. However, he was an honest man to himself and his disturbing hobbies.

He enjoyed killing but it was best when done to someone that he felt was a waste of oxygen. 

He wasn't a sociopath- he was a psychopath. There was a difference. He had his little morals. He didn't like killing those who didn't deserve it. Only people who thought they could shit on the world with no consequences. Cocky bastards… much like all the men you seem to be a magnet for.

So, as he watches you with yet another dirtbag, he begins to wonder how delightful it would be to cut this one's life short. Just like he did with all your other poor choices. You just didn't get it. Couldn't see what they truly were. You always joked about your third eye but you were blind to these things that were lesser than men. They didn't deserve you, but you keep picking them up.

Was it your daddy issues? Mommy issues? Both?

Nanami truly thought the time he spent with you crying after your last breakup would have sparked something within you. He was a model man. Everything opposite of the strays you take in off the street. If anything you should have seen how perfect he was for you. How much better he could treat you. Jealous? He wouldn't quite say that. He was more...how should he say...disappointed. He would have felt much better if you came into this bar with a man who was more his status or at least someone who had a higher IQ than a fifth grader.

"ALRIGHT! LET'S GET THIS TRIVIA GAME STARTED!" 

Speaking of iQ, he can't wait to see how many questions this one gets wrong. The last one was 8/10 for questions wrong- not right. He got only two answers. Will this one be a knockout? 

The announcer yelled into the mic making the crowd cheer and holler as they raised their glass into the air excited to start the game. 

Mahito elbowed him in the side, "Win this one for us aye Jimmy Neutron."

Nanami's lip twitched as he gave him a half smile. At that moment your boyfriend sealed his fate. Hammering the last nail into his coffin. Who was he kidding, he nailed it in when he decided to date you.

~

You swayed and giggled as Mahito helped you into your house. 

"Careful babe." He caught you before you could slip and eat your stone steps.

"Sorry sorry~ I had one too many margaritas!" You hold on to him as you kick your stilettos off your feet. You were already home so you didn't mind going barefoot the rest of the way. 

Climbing up your stairs you dug into your purse to grab your keys with jingly accessories upon them. You open the door and lean against it letting your guest in. You smiled at him while he turned the lamp on. You had such a fun night and you felt something was so different about this one. Your friends even liked him. Though they were pissed he got some questions wrong- easy ones-matter of fact you don't think he answered anything correctly- despite that! You still felt it was a good night. Closing the door behind you, you stalk over to him and throw your arms around his neck.

"Ooo~I know that look, did I do good tonight?"

You smiled with a flirtatious flutter of your lashes, "Yes~ Yes you did." You reach on your tiptoes as you kiss him, nearly making him tip over the couch.

Mahito hummed wrapping his arms around your hips, about to take this to the next level but his phone began to ring. He pulled back from you with a peck, "Ah~" He hissed looking at his phone, "Give me a minute work is calling." 

You pout giving him puppy eyes, "This late at night? Can't you let it ring?" You reach for him again but he untangles your arms from around him with a light chuckle. 

"I'm always on call, you know how business is. Go wait for me." He smacked your ass while walking toward the door.

"Don't take long!" You giggle running to your room to put something sexy on.

Mahito stepped out onto your porch, answering the phone. "Hey baby?"

"When are you coming over~"

"I can't tonight, I gotta..." He looked around while licking his lip, "Do a late-night delivery."

Nanami was listening as he hid in the dark, your new boyfriend spoke to what he had deduced was another girl... or boy. Whatever the case it was clear he was cheating on you and then lying to both of you. Well, the guy just made this a whole lot easier. Guess that was the one perk of you dating trash, it was easy to get rid of.

Once the call came to an end Nanami made his move. Mahito opened the door when he caught the man around his neck with his knife and then dragged him in with a hand clasped over his lips. Nanami shut the door with his back, leaning against it while he held the dying gurgling man. His eyes were wide as they looked upon him in shock. 

"She deserves better than you." Nanami made sure to send the man to the afterlife with his stone-cold eyes as the last thing he saw. He watched an arrangement of emotions flicker across before Mahito went still. He wished he could have basked in his taunting screams like the others but this was new. He has never done… this. In your house. About to confront you. He thought it was about time you truly opened your third eye and saw reality. 

Nanami dragged the man with him as he walked toward your room, pausing in the hallway mirror. He adjusted his bloody jacket and combed his blonde hair back with his fingers, flashing his teeth to make sure nothing was in them. When he was satisfied he knocked on your door with two sharp taps.

"Come in~" You called from inside.

He twisted the knob and pushed it, allowing the door to swing open the rest of the way.

You had a smile on your face, sitting in bed wearing a see-through baby doll gown. When you realized it was him and not the garbage man, your expression morphed into horror.

"N-Nanami!" You scurried up on your knees with your mouth wide open. Eyes darting to the body that he was pulling into your room. He plopped down on your bed with a tired sigh, flicking out his handkerchief as if he had just gotten off of work. 

You open your lips wide about to scream but he grabs your calf while holding the knife to his lips, "Don't. I've already had a long night with your one-brain cell boyfriend." He let go of you before he snorted to himself, "Sorry, your ex." Using his white handkerchief he began to wipe his bloody knife with smooth delicacy.

"Why-why Nanami?!"

"He was trash sweetheart. All of them were."

"A-all? Wh-what are you talking about?"

"Every single one you pick." He looked at you like a disappointed father. "I'm about sick of it. It’s obvious you're too stupid to realize it. Letting these leeches into your life. At some point, you'd think you were enjoying it! How about that? Do you enjoy being treated like crap? Enjoy letting pigs treat your home like a sty they can smoke their crack pipe at?"

Your lip trembled as you watched him clean his knife, "A-are you going to k-kill me?"

Nanami shook his head in disbelief as he scratched some blood off the steel, did you not listen to a word he just said? Honestly, sometimes you can be so dense. You’re lucky you’re cute. "No, I'm not going to kill you sweetheart." He looked up at you just in time to see your eyes land on your phone that was plugged into the charger. He saw the way you nervously gulped before looking at him. 

He raised a blonde brow at you. Were you really about to-

You dashed for your phone but he was quicker. He lunged forward and slapped the device across the room but you took that moment to pick up your lamp and toss it at him. He growled, blocking it with his arm, the glass cutting him. You released a scream while running. You barely jumped over the lump of flesh on the ground before he caught you by your hair and yanked you back into the room. 

“Ah! HELP HELP ME!”

"Enough!" He yelled at you as he wrestled you onto your bed.

You kicked and screamed as he quickly got you under control. He shoved his handkerchief into your mouth and grabbed your hands together with one hand. Swiftly he unbuckled his pants with one hand and yanked it out of the loop to tie around your wrist and the bedpost. He yanked on it making sure it was tight, and to be double sure you weren't getting out he jiggled your arm, searching for any open space. He then sat on the side of your bed with a release of air. Glancing at his forearm he picked out pieces of your lamp from his skin and tossed it to the floor. 

“Tch- ". He pulled out the last piece looking at you. 

Your sniffling and choked sobs are what caught his attention. He couldn't help how absolutely beautiful you looked even with precious tears streaming down your cheeks. He cooed as he took out the bloody handkerchief, from your mouth. "What's wrong sweetheart? Why are you crying?"

"Are you..." You gawked at him before giving him an angry stern look. "Y-You killed Mahito!"

Nanami scoffed leaning over the bed so he could pick up Mahito's phone. "Ah, your boyfriend?" He typed in the easy password that he had seen the leech put in. 6969. Fucking childish. He then went to his text message to girlfriend number two and flipped it over to show you. "What do you see?"

You gasped at the text messages, and nude pictures being sent between the two. Mahito said dirty things about the girl as she reciprocated the flirting. You snapped your head away too distraught to see such a thing. 

The blonde grabbed your cheeks, turning your head so you could look at the evidence. "What do you see?" He asked again more sternly. 

You sniffed, "I see I see!"

"What! Do you see?"

"I SEE THE NUDE PICTURES!" You cried with more hot tears bubbling in your orbs.

"What's the date?"

"T-Today! It's- it's today...." You began to cry as Nanami moved the phone from your face. Your boyfriend is dead, the guy you saw as a friend killed him, and now you found out you were being cheated on- was there anything else to bury you in? This was all too much! You were sobbing now, choking on your saliva and trying to sniffle so you could breathe, but it was so hard to breathe. 

Nanami pet your cheek with the back of his knuckles. "There you go... good girl let it all out...it's okay." 

"I-I'm sorry N-Nanami you are r-right- why does this happen to me..." You cried through your words hoping to pull on sympathy strings.

Nanami kissed you on your forehead as he spoke more to himself than anything. "You just can't help yourself sweetheart it's not your fault..." He moved to kiss your wet cheek. "I'll make sure it never happens again."

His words made your eyes widen along with his lips connecting with your own. 

"HM!" You tensed up shutting your eyes tight, your hands jerked to push him away but his belt didn't let up. What the hell does he think he's doing!? His lips slotted into yours as he shifted on top of you. You felt his tongue touch you and, you let it slip in your mouth. He moaned as he licked your tongue but then you clamped your teeth making him rear back in shock.

"Mm..."He touched his bloodied tongue. Surprised to see the red liquid on his fingers. "You bit me." He stated matter of factly. 

"Don't touch me!" You spat his blood at him. "You're a murderer! 

He was calm and then he wasn't. He grabbed your face pressing his fingers into your cheeks as he shook your head back and forth. "I know what I am darling but do you know what you are?"

You did your best to glare at him as you mewled in discomfort, your cheeks being pressed into your eyes. You weren't even able to answer his question, but he did.

"You're a dirty little whore that can't go one single day without being fucked."

You gasp in shock.

"Oh don't do that. You get dumped by one man you're looking for the next to warm your bed. How long did you know this one? Less than a month? How long did it take you before you were throwing on this slutty outfit that you wear for every man?" He flicked the fabric for emphasis.

You felt your chest squeeze in pain as your resolve began to decay, you didn't expect him to be so mean- hell you didn't expect any of this from kind sweet Nanami Kento! It was like a whole new person was above you. Nanami rolled his eyes at you, "Nothing hm...figures." He dragged his other hand over your body until he reached in between your legs. You gasp feeling him slide two digits against your slit. "You only think with this don't you?"

"What-what are you-ah!" You flinch feeling him slip into you. You were so ashamed by how your body fluttered around the intrusion.

"This is all you can think about hm?" Nanami leaned his head so he could watch the pleasure flicker across your confused eyes.

"Y-You're wrong!"

"Give it a break. You don't want them because they treat you like a princess, you certainly don't want them for money." His fingers curled inside you, rubbing on something delightful. "You just use them for the sex and allow them to do the same to you. Why else do you think all your choices are terrible?"

"S-Stop!" You snatched your face from his fingers, your legs quivering as you let out a tight groan. The way he thrust and curled inside of you was causing your body to betray you. It shouldn't feel this good. "Ah~!" You try to jerk your hands from its binds but you only end up with shaft wrists.

"I can take care of you and more..." He pressed his thumb to your clit, your hips flinched. "Ah~" Nanami grinned, "Did you like that?"

"N-No!" You shout at him but he began to circle your clit expertly. "-Ah~" You bit your lip turning away from him.

He chuckled, "Now now, there's no need to lie...I can feel you clenching around me, go ahead and cum, it's what you want to do."

You squeezed your eyes tight denying this reality, doing your best to escape mentally. You didn't want to feel all this pleasure, but it was too difficult to ignore. From the blonde's taunting words in your ear and the squelch of your wet cunt you knew you were done for. 

You felt something cold touch your neck, it was the knife he used on Mahito, "Look at me. I want to see you when you squirt on me like the slut you are."

You kept your face away but you opened your eyes to glare at him from the side. The knife bites into your flesh like a mere paper cut.

He gave you a sort of soft smile, "You can enjoy it as much as you like, don't be ashamed sweetheart." 

It pissed you off how sweet he sounded. How those simple words sent shivers and butterflies. This man you thought was a friend was a damn killer! Yet you could feel the growing build-up of your orgasm. You began to shake your head trying to pull yourself away from those dangerous hands. 

"N-no no! Stop!"

"Stop? Why would I stop when you are so close my dear? Don't tell me you don't want to cum?"

"Ah-N-no no! I don't want to-mm-" You grit your teeth trying to hold yourself back.

Nanami chuckled low at you, "Sweetheart don't be so stubborn. Come on and be a good girl. Cum for me." His movements didn't let up and even though you did your best to fight, it was inevitable.

You came with a scream, hips lifting as you squirt upon this killer's hand. You felt good and then immediately regret. How could you cum...so much?

"Good girl..." Nanami used the knife to cut off your thin lingerie. "We are going to need to throw this one out my dear, I'll get you a new one. Just for me."

What? He was insane- You had no time to stew in that statement because he pulled his pants low enough to release his large leaking cock.

"N-Nanami!" You were shocked to see how blessed he was. "W-Wait! I-I can't!"

"Yes, I'm aware none of your boyfriends were as big as I am." The blonde pushed your legs up and pressed his tip to your cunt. "Gojo said that they oozed little dick energy and I am quite displeased with you darling, you couldn't even be a slut properly."

You let out a cry as he pushed into you, stretching you around his cock. Tears streaming down your cheeks, making the man moan. He loved seeing you cry. You found that out when you cried to him about your last boyfriend. You didn't want to believe he was hard because of your tears but now you could see- it turned him own.

 Nanami moaned deeply as he kissed the corner of both of your eyes, rolling his hips until he was fully inside you. More tears seemed to pour free, like a never-ending stream. You cried out of frustration- you cried for your dead exes and you cried because the bloody monster above you was making you feel unbelievably good. You hated how he slid in and out of you with no pain- you wish it hurt- you wished you weren't enjoying it.

"It's okay darling. "Nanami cooed sweetly. Let it all out. Cry as much as you want," He snapped his hips faster as you bit back your pleasurable moans. Your bed rocked as he fucked you into it. The psycho blonde talking to you. "They didn't deserve you-mm. None of them..." He panted. 

"N-Nanami~" You began to play into the pleasure, letting it take your moans. Maybe you could speed up this process. You circled your legs around him allowing him to get deeper. Soon your moans weren't 'fake' they were quite real. "Oh~ You feel so good! Ah~Please cum in me!" You cried.

Nanami saw right through your charade, if you thought he was cumming alone you were wrong. He pulled out of you so he could flip you onto your stomach, your arms awkwardly crossed in their binds.

He reentered you making your back arach, "AH!"

"Mm~ I know how much you love being treated like a slut. Beg for it." He slapped your ass as he fucked you from behind.

 Holy shit- 

Your eyes rolled while you moaned deeply. "Oh~P-Please Nanam!"

"Who do you belong to?"

"AH~" 

He slapped your ass again getting much more aggressive as he pulled on your hips and bounced you on his cock. 

"YOUR'S I'M YOUR SLUT PLEASE!" You'd like to say you were still playing along but as he grabbed your breast and smacked your ass like an alleyway whore you may have had a very real very intense orgasm. "Oh fuck-!" You hiss as you came, throwing your hips back so you could feel every part of him. He was long and thick and hit all the right places. Places you never even knew needed to be touched. 

Nanami quickly slipped out of you before you could milk him for all he's worth but once you settled he thrust right back inside, making you scream again. 

"I know my little whore needs more orgasms than two...don't worry... I'll make sure you are more than satisfied."

Trued to his damn word he made sure you were a panting mess by the end of the night. You could barely open your eyes as he finished, shooting his cum all over your face. Marking you with his seed. Despite the messy goop on you he grabbed your chin and kissed you deeply, slipping his tongue inside your mouth. Demanding you to submit to him. You didn't bite him this time, much too physically and mentally exhausted to do so.

Separating from your lips with a light smack he rubbed your chin sweetly, "Good girl, you took me so well."  

You weakly look at him with a pitiful, "Please release my hands..."

He reached up for his belt and loosened it for your arms to go free. You let out a breath of relief. Before you could rub your wrist Nanami grabbed them and massaged them for you. It was silent in your bedroom...until Mahito's phone dinged. Picking up the device, the blonde snorted and showed you the screen. It was yet another girl your dead ex was fooling around with. Girlfriend number three. You rolled your eyes looking away making Nanami laugh.

"It's not funny..." You muttered.

He pinched your cheek playfully, "Don't pout so much my sweet girl, I'll take care of you. I promise I won't let anyone else hurt you ever again. You are mine and I am yours."

"What if it's you... hurting me..." You blinked looking at his deep brown eyes.

He gave you a charming smile, "I said...anyone else...I do what's best for you." He cupped your cheek, "Because you don't know any better. I do. I know what's best."

You swallowed a harsh lump as reality became all too real. He was a lunatic and wasn't going to let you go. You didn't realize you were crying until he had moved for you.

"Shh...I'm here..." He scooped you up so he could hold you. Just over the mattress, you could see Mahito, lifeless and on the floor, but the whispering from the man behind you was both eerie and soothing at the same time. "I'm here now my sweet girl, let me worry about everything."

~Commission from anonymous ~

https://ko-fi.com/c/a12d45af4a

[ataliagold]

Or Maybe We Don't

For @astrangersummer week 7 prompt 'or maybe we don't'.

Pairing: Eddie Munson/Steve Harrington

Rating: G

W/C: 1280

Tags: Steddie, first kiss, getting together, beach holiday, sunset, fluff, Steve Harrington has a crush on Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson has a crush on Steve Harrington, love confessions

Summary: It's the final day of Steve and Eddie's summer trip, and Steve has something he needs to tell Eddie.

___

Sunset was approaching, the sky a brilliant array of orange and pink, light sparkling off the water flowing forward then receding away again in gentle waves.

Steve was sitting with Eddie in the sand, looking out across the empty beach. It had been busy earlier – families set up for a day in the sun, kids building sandcastles, people playing in the surf. Most had been day-trippers, now packed up and departed, leaving just Steve and Eddie to take in the slowly sinking sun.

It was their last night at the little seaside house that Robin’s aunty had let them use for a few days for a brief summer getaway.

Robin and Nancy were supposed to have come on this trip with them, but Nancy had come down with some flu she’d caught from Mike and Robin had stayed behind to take care of her.

That left only Eddie and Steve, and this unspoken thing building between them that neither had managed to mention yet.

It was stolen glances, hands brushing not-so-accidentally, Steve quietly giving Eddie the pickles from his burger at the diner, nights spent in front of the TV where neither of them really focused on the movie – they were too busy looking at each other.

“I don’t really want to go home,” Eddie commented, breaking the pleasant silence that had fallen over them, “not yet. S’nice here.”

“I’m sure we can come back,” Steve told him, letting a handful of sand run through his fingers. “With Robin and Nancy.”

Something flashed across Eddie’s face, the slightest wince, and he turned away a little. “Yeah. With them.”

Steve paused. Reached his hand slightly towards Eddie’s, then stopped himself, let his hand fall again.

“Eddie?”

“Yeah?” His voice was tight.

Steve frowned. “Is something wrong?”

“No.”

“Ok. Just…you seem kinda…”

“What?”

“I dunno.”

“Good one, Harrington.”

There was no malice in Eddie’s tone, but Steve flinched a little at the old nickname anyway because he and Eddie were so far past that now – or at least, he thought they were.

Steve sighed. “I don’t really wanna go home either. I do miss Robin though.”

Eddie smiled then. “You missed her on our first night here.”

“Yeah,” Steve said sheepishly.

“It’s been good though, right? The last couple of days?”

“Yeah.”

“I know it’s not…well, it’s not really what we’d planned, without the girls, but…”

“I’ve had fun.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

Steve’s tongue darted out over his lips, and he looked back out to the water. He knew why their conversation had become so stilted, why things suddenly felt so awkward, but he hadn’t been able to get the courage up to voice it.

To tell Eddie how he felt.

But when was he going to get another chance like this? They were alone, away from prying eyes, from the demands of the kids – out here they could be anyone they wanted to be.

Steve wanted to be Eddie’s.

He snuck a glance at the other boy. Took in the way the light fell across his delicate features, shining off dark brown eyes, his face so pretty despite being slightly clouded by indecision, perhaps the same indecision Steve was feeling right now.

“Eddie –”

“Steve – ”

They spoke at the same time, snapped their mouths shut in sync.

Eddie laughed briefly. Rubbed the back of his neck, tugged a section of hair across his mouth, smiled playfully at Steve.

“You first, big boy.”

“What were you going to say?” Steve asked quietly, because what if he’d been reading this all wrong, what if Eddie was going to say something completely mundane, suggest they eat at the diner tonight instead of Steve cooking, which Steve really hoped he wouldn’t because he was planning on making Eddie’s favourite lasagna as a surprise…

Eddie’s lips twitched. “Probably the same as you,” he said earnestly.

Steve sucked in a breath, let it out a little shakily. Inched his hand towards Eddie’s again.

“I really enjoyed these last few days,” Steve said after a moment. “With you, I mean.”

Eddie nodded, pinky brushing against Steve’s.

“And I think…well, I know how I…feel about you. And it kinda…” Steve trailed off, looked down at his lap, anywhere but Eddie because he could feel his cheeks colouring now, and what if he was about to fuck everything up? He took a deep breath, tried again. “Well, it kinda scares me. Because I’ve never felt this way about anyone else except Nancy, a long time ago. And you know how that ended, and I don’t want that to happen again, not with you. God, not with you.”

Finally, he forced himself to look up, Eddie’s silence too much to bear.

He was looking at Steve softly, openly, his pinky looped over Steve’s now, breeze gently ruffling his hair.

Steve wanted to kiss him.

But he waited, needed to be sure, needed to know he hadn’t imagined everything between them.

“You know I’ve been in love with you since you carried my half-dead ass out of the Upside Down, right?”

Steve blinked several times in response to Eddie’s confession. “Seriously?”

Eddie chuckled. “Yeah. What, like that’s an unreasonable response to Steve Harrington saving your life?”

“I just…I mean, you never…you didn’t say anything.”

“I thought you were straight.”

Steve tipped his head to the side, raised his eyebrows briefly. ���To be fair, so did I.”

“So you’re telling me…you’re not?” Eddie continued, his expression hopeful, his pinky curling around Steve’s.

“No,” Steve said, meeting his eyes. “No, because I really want to kiss you right now.”

Eddie swallowed visibly. Leaned in closer, until Steve could feel his warm breath dance across his lips.

“Go on then, Stevie.”

Steve closed the little distance left between them. Kissed him there as the sun farewelled the sky, slow and gentle and a little unsure of himself because he’d never kissed another man before. But instead of his heart rate spiking like he’d expected it to, it slowed under Eddie’s touch, and Steve felt calm and soft and safe because this was Eddie and he’d never felt something so right in this life.

The following day, after spending the night in Eddie’s arms, Steve was driving them back to Hawkins. Back to their jobs, back to their separate homes, back to reality.

Hand in hand across the gearbox, the two spent most of the drive looking at each other, Steve having to force his attention back to the road every now and then.

An hour out of Hawkins, Eddie spoke.

“What do we do, when we get home?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, do we…tell people? Our friends? Wayne? The kids?”

“Do you want to?”

“Well…I want to be able to be with you,” Eddie said, squeezing his hand. “But are you ready for that? Steve Harrington, former Hawkins golden boy, in a relationship with Eddie the freak?”

Steve made a soft noise of protest at that, brought Eddie’s hand up to his mouth and kissed it.

“I want to be with you,” Steve said firmly. “I’m not sure when we tell people, let’s maybe give it a few days to think about it, but…yeah, Eddie. I want you.”

“Because we could…well, I mean, if you wanted to we could…” Eddie’s eyes darted away, looked out the window, back again. “I’d understand if you wanted to pretend this never happened. If you wanted to just go back to normal. We could, if you want.”

I can’t, Steve knew. And looking at Eddie, at his face that was imploring Steve otherwise, he knew Eddie couldn’t either.

Steve smiled at him. Brought Eddie’s hand to his lap and held it securely there.

“Or maybe we don’t.”

[wololo-01]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MRS. WATER!!!!

Yayyyy!!!! It finally here!! It my girl birthday!!! I'm so happy to finally celebrate Mrs. Water birthday <3

But actually that's not all I really want to celebrate and say.....

Oh boi ok long LOOOONG texts above ( there is Also some swearing so be warned too :'b) ↓

(also sorry for interrupting any of you guys!! For the people I tag, you all can just read the part I mentioned you and then skip all the rest!! <3)

*sigh* ok, I'm not going to lie here, since the last 3 years here in this community, it never crossed my mind that I would meet people as incredible, funny, creative and majestic as everyone here,And I'll tell you the truth, this fandom changed me a lot, I didn't imagine this would happen but look, this actually happened hahaha!! XD

To be honest, I had a lot of problems last year and this year too, a lot of shit happened to me and that really discouraged me in a lot of things,I had problems with my self-esteem again and wanted to give up trying anything and life as well I felt useless on several days but you guys, you all cheered me up so much!! I never had the courage to tell you this but if it weren't because of you all I really don't know what I would do :') everything was like: "No one will ever like my style" - BANG! Them find my style cool. "I made this drawing but I don't really think someone will-” BANG! People actually like it a lot “i made this fanart for them but what if then-” BANG! them like it a lot! I'm so happy! :'D

sorry, sorry kakskaak buuut also, There is actually some special people who I want to thank a lot, they are people who of all inspired me to continue and made me so happy:

@bluetorchsky & @androidcharles

YOU TWO.

Since the first time when I moved in to tumblr again to post my thsc art in a old account, I was scared to death that maybe there was no person who knew this game here and my style back then...jesus Christ"; _;, I was really about to gave up until BOOM!! suddenly you both show up in my notifications and I saw the reblog and read the nice tags you guys leave it AND- *slam table* AHHHHHHHHH/p YOU TWO LITERALLY ARE SOOO FREAKING NICE AND AMAZING!!!! Not only that but your both have such extraordinary creative and talent!! You two deserve so much happiness and love!! I was too shy to say this but now damn you both deserve to hear this!!! >:}

Blue your artwork is pretty!! Pretty like the moon and stars shining high in the sky!, your writing is extremely beautiful, like music on a violin or a piano at night or the ones pretty poems Written with so much passion, your writing is extraordinary! You dedicate yourself so much and manage to make a story seem like a book that you are lucky enough to know and read!! And not only that but your ocs, violin and accordion DANG I love how well written they are so much!! They designs are so great yet sooo fabulous and they storys is very veeeery good and greats!!!. I really hope that you continue with those Masterpieces that you write and draw!!, But not only that, but you are such a kind, spectacular and divine person, I really appreciate soooooo muuuch all the things you do here, your writing is done with so much passion and your art is so unique, Don't feel sad or anything just because you can't write or draw at some point, it's totally fine and you deserve all the time but also ALLL THE LOVE AND APPRECIATION in the world! ^^)

Katiee!!! First of all WHERE DID GET SO FREAKING AMAZING IDEAS AND CREATIVE?!?!!???? I SWEAR YOU ARE AMAZING AND FUNNY!!, sometimes I envy you a little, but I also consider you one of my inspirations!!!! Your art is beautiful, beautiful like a painting of flowers or like a clean and calm river, your style is so cuteeeee Those stick people really look like marshmallows!! I so eat your art!! >:3 (kakak sorry), but seriously you are a talented person too, many people here also like you and blue!! You are neat and I glad to be able meet you and your artwork!! (Also I saw that you also writing and it one about your au, I still need to Taste this new delicious write of you 🍽️) when you did the Toppat clan week YIPPEE I GOT SO EXCITED!!! I was scary to not be able to participate but I managed!! I have so much fun drawing all those stuff!!! The prompt You put it was really good also extremely interesting!!!, and talking about something I love so much your ocs!!! Especially Amelia! She such a cuteee cinnamon roll and a adorable blueberry cake!! I love her personality and the design Ohh ESPECIALLY the hair!! Its like a fluffy blue cotton candy!! You super cool, I really appreciate all the work you do, I hope I can see more, you are a talented, funny and absolutely magnificent person!!! Don't forget this!!! >:]

@capturecharlesau & @crown-of-roses-thsc

YOU BOTH ARE MY TWO FAVORITE AU BLOG HAHSHSHAK SUCH CREATIVE, SWEET AND AMAZING PERSON YOU GUY ARE AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!

Minnie!!, you super cool! Like really you such a cool and amazing person!! You also so sweet and kind!!! You like one of those cool kid in the school who I look like at and said "I wanna be like she!! She so awesome!! Yep, she deserves this popularity, she deserves nothing but the best for all things" In the last year, I was really down by some things that happened, but then I saw some one of the chapter you post it and BOOOM!!! Your au is what brings me back the joy!!! AAAAAA I was so hyped about your au!!! Jesus it just so DAMN WELL writing, I love the ideas you have and the characters?? NAHAHAHA THEM ALSO ARE SOOO FREAKING GREAT you manage to combine the words anguish, violence and comfort in such an incredible way! (And snicker you too do!!) Some of your chapters were thrown out at times when I really needed something to distract me, seriously you are a divinely talented person!! And other things I love about your au is Terrence, I'm still a hater of this piece of crap but I want to praise you so much about how you wrote it!! He really was such a good and badass villain/antagonist!!! God, I've even had some nightmares involving him, he really gave me the chills, The way you wrote it from start to finish was AMAZING, I swear I still love rereading it all again, to me it's like a frollo like the hunchback of Notre Dame with a bit of the personality of Clayton from Tarzan or Ursula from the little mermaid!! (Sorry they all are one of my favorite villains), Another thing I love so much are your ocs! Not only Danny but I can also say allwork and Benz!! AHHH THEM ALL ARE SUCH COOL OCS!!! I also need to say you are amazing when it comes to writing about Characters!! I really wanna know so much more about them all!!, Danny is still my favorite (he so lovely and sweet, he and you deserve the world) but either way, I thankful for you get in this fandom :') you deserve so much loveee and appreciation!! You made wanna go back in training more cartoon styles and expression because of your artstyle who is perfect!!!! I and everyone here will love to see your next works and arts!!! DON'T FORGET WHO FREAKING NICE AND AMAZING YOU ARE!!!!

Snicker!!!! (Hope it okay to call you that)) *sigh*.....

I WOULD LIKE TO GIVE A MEDAL FOR THE BEST AU THAT IS BEING WRITTEN.

Wow, God, how can I put into words in English how good she is??? I won't even be able to describe it in Portuguese CUZ GODDAMN YOU HAVE SUCH A POWER TO WRITE SOMETHING SO GOOOOOD😭😭 think I can say you and have the absolutely talens of god and the creative of a Talented artist who deserves much more appreciation and great recognition!!! When you showed up I was having a few bad days but YOUR AU SUDDENLY FELL FROM THE SKY AND WAS IMMEDIATELY BLESSED TO READ SUCH THE MAGNIFICENT MASTERPIECE!!! I love sooo much the idea of ​​Ellie being Terrence daughter It such a cool and think I can say, a really original ideas (I mean about ellie being Terence daughter, not Terrence having a child "^^) I also adore so much all the personalities of each, RHM is one of my favorites, I'm also curious about his story and the others, I can't forget to talk about the villain!, AAAAAA YOUR TERRENCE IT'S SO NEAT!!! I also still his hater but you done such a good job with him gave the big vibe of two-face villain or the cocky anger issues one (idk what it the name for this one XD) but seriously? Meeen I wish I could could puch him just like rogue from jewel au from @smoresthehalloweenqueen ((Smore you also another of my inspiration and favorite artist!! >:3)) and CC!terrence, for me rogue, CC!Terrence and CoRTerrence are pretty good villains but make Blood boils so much just by seeing them but hey hey! This why I love villains you like them very much but wish them all just die soon (cc!Terrence was one Only these two are missing and I can't wait to see them all in hell ahahaha >:D) you really are spectacular, take the time you need to do the chapters, but I wanna to said that you are also my new Big inspiration!!

@00lari00

LARIIIII FINALMENTE EU TENHO UMA AMIGA BR NESSE FANDOM!!! DEUS É BOM DE DEMAAAAAAAAIS PORRA 🙌🙌

Akaskska sorry XDD but I serious!! I so happy to be the only brazillian person here in the fandom on tumblr!! It sucks sometimes not having someone who speaks the same language as you to talk :'''b but suddenly A SMOKE ARISED AND SUDDENLY FROM BEHIND, WIZARD LARI FINALLY ARRIVED!!! HOORAY!!!! Lari we can not talk to much since you busy with your school and I am a shy idiot but I need to said, HOLY SHIT YOU ARE THE MOST FUCKING COOL PERSON I HAVE HAD THE PLEASURE OF KNOWING, YOUR ART AND CREATIVITY ARE LIKE MAGIC COMING TRUTH!!! And this au you are creating??? É MUITO FODAAAAAA 😩😭🤌🤌🤌 CARALHO VEI TU TA FAZENDO UMA OBRA PRIMA ESPERO QUE VC NÃO PARE!!! É MUITO INCRÍVEL TUDO QUE VC TA FAZENDO!!! (Sorry back to English KAJSKS) I can't lie to you, I sometimes envy you, you are such a special, kind and incredible person. It's like I'm talking like the coolest maid ever and I think 'god they're so cool why they are even talking to me?, but I also see you as one of my big inspirations!! I know I will reach the same level as you in talent and art but I at least want to have some of your courage to talk to people and be good at drawing just like YOUU!!I also want you to remember that you are so wonderful and a very magnificent and awesome person!! Anyone who talk shit about you and one it's a hater because them never gonna be in the same way as you are!!! Also take all the time you need it for draw, study is also important I am here to let you know that I'm rooting for you every day!! I can see you Gonna have a bright and wonderful future, thank you for being my friend and also so being my inspiration

And now a really special one...a person who I am very very grateful...

@doodlethings

Bunnu?, omg I think I will cry (I already am since I'm writing all this) YOU. HOLY SHIT BUNNU I SWEAR HOW DARE YOU BE THE COOLEST, AMAZING, SENSATIONAL, WONDERFUL, KIND, AMAZING PERSON??? WHAT THE FUCK, I WISH I COULD GIVE YOU THE FUCKING WORLD, GIVE YOU EVERYTHING YOU DESEVE IT AND MORE THAN THE WORLD CAN OFFER TO YOU, In fact, how long have we been glued to each other? Type 4?? 5?? Or 6 years?? Oof time passed so quickly I lost count ;_; but well fuck it! The most important thing I want want to said is, YOU ARE SUCH DIVINE ARTIST AND WRITER!!! YOUR ART IS AS WONDERFUL AS A LIVING PAINTING A MUSE PAINTING, And this art deserves to be featured, every detail of it is so impeccable and incredible, and your writing? They are like a special, treasured book that deserves to be read, even if no one does, I will, I will appreciate your art and I will read your stories for the rest of my life, again and again and again, You are like a sunshine or flowers in the snow, you are my bestie, my favorite person in the world!! And you are my biggest inspiration to continue drawing, you have cheered me up all these years and continue to this day, you have the best sense of humor and music of all, your gave so wanna tips and help me a lot to deal with live and learn to love and appreciate more the things!! If wasn't because of you? Geez I really don't know but this doesn't matter, you are the best, intelligence and great yet sweetly and maravilinda person in this WHOOOOOLE WORLD!!! I LOVE YOU!! THANK YOU FOR BEING MY BEST FRIEND AND BE AND TALK WITH ME TO THIS DAY, I'm sorry about my horrible sense of humor, my delulu theories, lack of brain cells and Also because they heard the stupidest story I tell it ksskskajk you got a bored dumb friend :'b but I happy to be on your side until now and I can't wait to see you shine more <'3

Oh and for the people I didn't tag and said here

I'm sorry I can't tag all of you 😭😭 if tag more people here this post will be post only a few weeks later akajsj BUT DON'T THINK JUST BECAUSE I DIDN'T TAG YOU GUYS IT MEAN I FINDA ANY OF YOU SO NEAT AND AMAZING!!! YOU GUYS SUPPORT AND LOVE THAT YOU ALL GAVE ME HAVE A SPECIAL PLACE IN MY HEART!!! A LOT (almost everyone) OF YOU ARE ALSO MY INSPIRATIONS!!! YOU LOVE EVER BLOG, DRAW, THEORY, WRITINGS AND AUS THAT YOU ALL DO!!! KEEP SHINING AND GOING EVERYONE CUZ YOU GUYS ARE FABULOUS 💞💞💞 💅 I WANNA SUPPORT AND LOVE EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU!!! YOU GUYS DESERVE A LOOOOOOOOOOOT OF MORE THAN I CAN OFFER AND SAID DO NEVER FORGET WHO COOL AND BEAUTIFUUUUUUL YOU ALL ARE!!!! 🗣️📢

You knows? Today also is my birthday and there is It's a tradition in Brazil where, when someone has a birthday, after congratulations and lighting the candles, the person gives the first piece of cake to someone important, but all of you are important to me soooo...Since this is the internet not real life, I wanna pass several first pieces to each of you all!!!! SO GRAB ONE GUYS!!! NYEHEHEHEHEHE 🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰 >:DDD

Well this all I can actually said, happy birthday again Mrs. Water and Happy birthday to me!!

Also have I got this stupid idea her ajakskdkk xb

[gremlin-girly]

Flufftober Day 24

Alt 6: Gravestone

Pairing/characters: Steve Rogers/ Captain America x gn!reader, Bucky is mentioned :)

Tags/warnings: Fluff, Angst, talk of death, grieving, a very morbid-ish meet cute (again with the meetcutes I know. IM SORRY), it's set in a grave yard so graves/funerals/and loss of loved ones is spoken about (albeit briefly)

Not Beta'd

Summary: You volunteer at your local graveyard to clean headstones. One day you meet someone you never thought you'd bump into, noting the beginning of a very wholesome relationship.

Word count: 1.7k Note: This is set after the battle of New York and before the events of TWS :)

A/N: since I accidentally missed the Heirloom prompt (whoopsie) here's an extra little challenge I gave myself. I recommend this video which helps explain the moss/algae (and is just an interesting watch!)- Love, Grem x

Prev | Next | Masterlist

It was Saturday morning and unlike most people in New York, you were up bright and early with your trusty caddy, cleaning supplies and lunch in hand, heading to your local cemetery.

The sun was barely awake when you arrived, as you had so hoped, parking your car and walking through the wrought iron gates with hues of orange, pink and purple following you. You had set yourself the challenge of cleaning at least 30 headstones today and you were determined to succeed.

Rolling on your rubber cleaning gloves, you set to work; spraying the headstones down with your cleaning cocktail to kill the mould and algae that had attached itself to the marble before scrubbing it clean. You repeated the action along the row of headstones, some needing a better scrub than others, listening to some music and softly singing to yourself. You were about to take a five minute break when you noticed a particularly dirty headstone two graves from where you had just finished.

"Well, three more won't kill me," You shrug to yourself. "Then I'll take lunch."

The grave was worse than you had initially thought. What was once white marble was now covered in dark green algae, the writing beneath barely visible. Someone had been in the last week though, because wilted daisies had been left on the ground underneath it. You carefully pried the daises away, trying not to destroy the flowers. You'd replace them after the cleaning had been completed but you didn't want to damage them any more than necessary; that was just disrespectful.

You begin your mini-ritual again; first round of spray, scrub, second round of spray, scrub. It takes a third spray for the words to become clearer and by the fourth, as you clean the etchings with a toothbrush, are finally legible.

You pause for a moment, tilting your head as you squint at the writing, gently mouthing out as you read;

SGT. James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes

Beloved Son and Brother

1917 - 1944

"Bucky, huh?" You smile down at the head stone and give it a pat, making a horrid wet slapping noise as your gloved hand smacks the suds. "Hope you're doing okay pal, wherever you are. And sorry for standing on your head."

With a short, sheepish smile you continue to scrub at the etchings. After thirty minutes of cleaning, the headstone is practically glistening white, shining brightly in the afternoon sun. All that was left to do was cut the grass down over the edges and give it one last spritz with the pressure hose - so you may as well enjoy your lunch while the weather was so nice.

You sit down on the grass opposite the grave and open your lunch bag. You'd thrown together a quick sandwich last night before bed; it wasn't much but it would tide you over until you got home. You toast your sandwich to the grave before you with a small nod.

"Thank you for your service, sergeant." You say quietly before taking a big bite.

You scan the cemetery as you chew. There were only a handful of people in today, as usual but your area was quiet. You took the moment to bask in the sun's rays as you ate, wondering if there was anyone left to visit some of the graves you'd cleaned today. Some had plenty of flowers - some none at all. It always gave you a little bit of imposter syndrome; who were they? What were they like?

You're too lost in thought to hear the footsteps of someone approaching.

"Did you do this?"

You look up from your sandwich, startled. A tall man in jeans and a t-shirt that was a little too tight stands before you, with a blue veteran's cap on his head that hid his face in shadows. He was holding a small bouquet of fresh daisies in his hand and you realise he's not looking at you, but at the headstone.

"Um, yes?" You hurriedly get to your feet, brushing crumbs from your clothes. "I volunteer here. I clean the headstones."

He nods, and clears his throat. "Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you. You should go back to your lunch."

"No, no," You wave a hand. "I was just about finished anyway. I need to finish up before I head home."

"It looks..." He trails. "It looks good. Thank you."

"Oh um, was he your relative?" You ask awkwardly. Although, you're unsure how he would know someone from the forties. The stranger smiles wryly, still not looking at you.

"Something like that."

"Ah, well, I'm sorry for your loss." You don't know what else to say and you try not to pull a face as you nod but you're a little bewildered by the statement he made. How can a guy who looks no more than thirty, know a soldier that died in World War 2?

When he takes his cap off and ruffles his hand in his hair - it all makes sense.

It's Captain America.

You bewildered gaze grows into a wide-eyed, starstruck expression for a millisecond before realising whose grave you've just cleaned. It wasn't just any soldier's grave that Steve Rogers happened to know, oh no, it was his best friend's.

You shift awkwardly on your feet. You don't want to intrude on the moment he's having and you feel a little dumb for not connecting the dots sooner.

You're about to leave and collect your things when Cap speaks again.

"He shouldn't have died that day."

You blink, caught between picking your kit up and replying. You've bumped into grieving family and friends before, and had your fair share of awkward and sad conversations but with America's golden boy... that was a whole new ball park.

You think back to history classes and documentaries, trying to remember facts of Bucky's death and come up with something instead of standing by silently.

"I'm sorry," you say again. "From what I've read and seen he... seemed like a great guy."

Captain America gives you a wry smile. "The greatest... I should've held on."

"You tried." You say gently, giving him a sympathetic look when his teary blue eyes meet yours. "It's not your fault. It wasn't your fault."

He sniffs, clears his throat, and wipes at his eyes. "Thanks."

There's a few beats of silence before he speaks again. "Sorry. I suppose it's not every day Captain America cries in front of someone."

"Don't apologise. And you're not Captain America today," You point at his clothes with a sweet smile. "You're just a random person whose grieving a loved one."

"I'm just Steve today." His lips twitch upwards and then he extends his hand to you. "Nice to meet you."

You take his hand giving it a firm shake. "I'm Y/N. Nice to meet you, Steve."

You both bite back chuckles at your awkwardness, your hands dropping to your sides as you look at the sparkling headstone in front of you.

"How did you manage to get it so clean?" Steve asks curiously.

"Elbow grease and a lot of patience," You smile at him. "Some chemicals help too."

Steve nods and gestures to his flowers. "Are they safe to put down?"

"I was going to tidy up the border but, sure. Go ahead."

"Can I help?"

With the way Steve his looking at you, you can hardly say no. You reach into your caddy and pull out two pairs of scissors, handing one of them to Steve. Kneeling next to each other, you show Steve how you trim and collect the grass and weeds around the headstones on your weekly visits before replacing any flowers that have been left.

The whole moment takes less than five minutes with an extra pair of hands, and when you both sit onto your haunches to admire your handiwork, Bucky's headstone looks far neater now that the grass had bee trimmed. Steve places the fresh daisies in front of the marble and smiles appreciatively at the sight.

"That looks so much better," He murmurs. "And you do this every week?"

"Only three weeks of the month." You correct, placing your scissors back into your caddy. "Not all of the gravestones need cleaning, and there are other volunteers that sometimes pitch in. We each take a section to clean each week and mark off the gravestones we've cleaned so we know which will need to be revisited in a few months' time."

Steve nods along "Do you... need any more volunteers?"

"We're always looking for new volunteers." You beam at him.

Every Saturday after that, apart from when he wasn't busy being a hero, Steve Rogers became a regular volunteer on your shifts. You showed him how to properly clean gravestones and how to remove different stains, mould and algae. It didn't take long for him to learn everything so most of your mornings were cut short, eventually allowing you to get a few extra hours of sleep each week.

You'd have thought that the serum would have made Steve get the cleaning done faster; but he seemed to hang back, focusing on cleaning and chattering away with you - as Steve, not as Cap - catching up on everything that had happened in the week.

You'd exchange stories freely; at first a lot of his containing Bucky and him growing up together in Brooklyn before slowly delving into his time with the Avengers. You were happy to listen, and to tease where appropriate, and share your own experiences growing up in the 21st century - which baffled Steve to no end.

One Saturday, a month after you'd met, you'd forgotten to pack your lunch. You'd realised on the drive over and complained to Steve no end when you met up with him in your usual spot at Bucky's headstone. Steve had chuckled as you ranted, the new bouquet of daisies adding a proud pop of colour against the white marble.

There was only a small patch of algae beginning to form against it but Steve was already kneeling and scrubbing at it.

"Why don't we grab something after we're done?" He said nonchalantly continuing to scrub. You look over to him in disbelief.

"Is Captain America asking me out on a date?" You tease gently, expecting him to roll his eyes as he usually did at your teasing. This time he doesn't though; his face flushes and he gives you a gentle smile in return.

"No, but Steve Rogers is. If you're willing to go, that is."

[waywardmillennial]

watchergate & where we go from here...

To start at the end, I purchased my annual Watcher TV subscription on April 20th because I wanted to support them when it felt like so many others were not. I'm cancelling another subscription to make this work with my budget, and I'm very happy with this!

Watcher has always made high quality, entertaining content that I love, and I'm happy to support them as they try to grow like they've always wanted to so they can bring on more creators and give us more diverse art.

So, moving forward, I'm going to be posting about Watcher TV when it comes out - spoiler parties with the sexy moots! - and I'll be blocking any and all haters I see. 💜💜💜

(read more bc ofc this got long)

To walk this back and give a little history/context, *ahem* [sotto Byron voice]

April 12, 2024: Watcher announced they had a surprise coming for us in a week's time. The news came in the form of a very spirited ad-read in the Mystery Files s2 finale. And afterwards there were a few blogs posting about it, but I commented to a friend that my dash had been devoid of Watcher posts (oh, how that sweet summer child would grow to long for a day such as that).

There were some corkboard theories, and I broke down the new logo design, but nothing big happened until the following Thursday.

April 18, 2024: I saw the leak for the announcement. It was on reddit and a sock tumblr blog was made sending the link out to people. I didn't post it or share it because it wasn't my news to share. I wanted to wait to see how they were going to explain it.

Maybe I should have said at the time (but it's fine if you don't believe me now I guess) but I was hoping Watcher TV would become like their enhanced Patreon replacement, where the new shows like "Puppet History Karaoke" and "Road Files" would be exclusive, and some other perks like early access. [note: if Apollo is laughing at him right now, I'd kindly request he stuff that red ball somewhere Helios doesn't shine]

I imagined some people would be mad at the streaming news but it didn't prepare me for how bad it would get...

April 19, 2024: Most of us know what happened. The announcement was not well received. Watcher's silence right after wasn't helping, but I don't think many people were willing to give them any grace for their pre-planned trip to the UK and instead demanded answers immediately.

Do I think maybe their announcement could have been timed better? Or maybe given a different tone? Perhaps. But either way what they were trying to communicate was not what people chose to hear, and the response from many viewers was, to choose a very formal phrase here, absolute bonker banana balls insane.

The main anti-streamer "arguments" I saw basically boiled down into these categories:

"high production tv quality content is what they want to make, but we don't want that - we only want them to sit in a blank room and talk to each other with blue and yellow text like the bfu days!!"

"Steven's the one behind all this bc he's rich and greedy and only eats gold"

"they already make enough money off their patreon why are they doing this?? they should have consulted [insert other yt-er here]"

"they've become the capitalist elite that we swore to destroy! so we have to tear them down from their thrones!!"

Even now, feeling better than I have in days, I don't have the energy to say why each of those takes completely misses the point of who they are as a company, as creators, and as human beings. But there are some eloquent posts in my #watchergate tag, or my other post, if you're interested.

April 22, 2024: We got the Watcher update - giving people access to all videos after a month on the new streamer - and that seemed to placate a lot of viewers and those on the fence. But it was also the day I learned about that horrible petition against Steven, and I'd been following all this drama for several days (foregoing some self-care) and so I had a little meltdown...

Even though the new setup is closer to what I'd hoped for like 10 days ago, I hate how we arrived at it. It's shown people that they can bully creators to get them to compromise on their company. In fact, I've seen accounts celebrating this.

Opinions like this have given me trust issues when it comes to the Watcher fandom at large now. As many of my beloved mutuals have said, I'm going to be wary of accounts that follow me and be applying that blocking feature liberally.

I can also only imagine how things like this must have broken some of the trust that the Watcher crew feels for us - fightingfuries really said it best. If they do start distancing themselves on socials and things, I wouldn't really blame them.

I don't have more to say, other than I'm going to support them as much as I can, for as long as they continue to make content. I'm going to send the team a care package. And I hope in time we'll earn back their trust.

Now I'll let Ryan Bergara play me out...

As for the question of why we decided to launch our own platform, when we started Watcher in 2020, we wanted to create shows that we were proud of, that we had ownership over, and that would provide you the caliber of content that we felt you deserved. However, we were finding it harder and harder to stay relevant to advertisers and the constantly changing YouTube landscape. We faced some incredibly challenging decisions. We didn't want to compromise our content to ensure they met advertising requirements. And we definitely did not want to lay people off that have brought Watcher to life behind the scenes. And we didn't want to bring Watcher to a close, which would have happened if we stayed solely on YouTube. - An Update, April 22, 2024

[dmitriene]

— lie to me.

summary: better a bitter truth than a sweet lie, but do you really think so? content: re6! leon x fem! reader tags: angst, nsfw, smut, comfort/hurt, mentions of alcoholism, confused relationship, sex partners, receiving fingering, unprotected p in v, marking, receiving oral. (let me know if i forgot something!) author's note: the work was inspired by the song and my love for the angst, i hope you enjoy it! please enjoy your reading) 🤍 (18+ warning)

 ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌  « come on and lay with me / come on and lie to me »

 ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌  « tell me you love me / say i'm the only one »

his every appearance on your doorstep leaves hot marks on the skin and cold, which corrodes from the inside.

...

the blue haze of the day gradually rises to show the stars, at this time everything around seems to freeze, becomes quiet, as if silent.

there are fewer passers by on the streets, the roads are empty for hundreds of cars, more and more windows are lit up with light in the houses, and meanwhile the shadow falls on the streets, where only lonely lamps illuminate small islands around them, secluded corners between the tall buildings of the houses.

the night descends completely, the stars begin to shine like sugar spilled on black marble glistening in the sun, and the sight itself becomes truly desirable as your eyelashes flutter following your slowly rising gaze to the heavenly canvas to revel in its view, bending your torso forward to fold your arms on the balcony railing.

you take one deep breath to fill your lungs with cold air that prickly strokes your cheeks and makes you blush, biting your skin in small patches and provoking goosebumps as your eyes follow the familiar back riding a motorcycle, the noise of the engine is the only thing that filled the silence of the night streets and empty thoughts.

...

he appeared just as he disappeared, and you would compare him to a stray dog if he didn’t differ from it in one simple thing — the ability to stay next to you at least for a couple of moments longer.

his appearance on the threshold of your house in the middle of the night seemed an absolute routine, because you were the only one who allowed this event to repeat itself over and over again, filling the space with his intoxicating smell that provokes the mind to become cloudy, while your flesh burned under the touch of his hands, each touch of the fingertips left at the place of touch, a long feeling of weight that carved into your mind and remained there even after he left.

you knew what prevents him from staying with you longer, or maybe even forever — the horrors of what he experienced and the inability to forgive himself for what he was not guilty of turned him into the mess he was now.

Leon Scott Kennedy was no longer a cheerful young man who was ready to give everything to become a policeman and help people — now he was just a shell of past dreams and ideas, a broken agent who was doomed to devote himself to work for life.

the work was not hated by him being his full fledged choice — but it still made him suffer from a slurry vile of thoughts and nightmares, his heart was convulsively knocking on his chest and whining, remembering all the betrayals and fleeting feelings, and then drowning it all in an amber liquid alcohol, if only for a moment to drown out the whole stream of thoughts and mend the old wound.

but there were moments when even the most bitter taste and the most scratchy sensation in the throat did not help to shut up everything that was happening — and that's when he came to you.

...

you didn’t know what he finds in you and your personal space in the form of cozy apartments, but at the same time, he still appeared inside from time to time from the moment you let him through the threshold just to catch his limp body in your fragile hands.

your knees gave way slightly under his weight on your body, so that later he would wrap his arms around you and help you stand on your legs, while the whiskey on his lips spoke for all his words and actions in advance, his face buried somewhere in the crook of your neck, passing the herd of goosebumps through your body and projecting a slight heat on the face.

and in those sleepless evenings, nothing happened but his sleepy figure in your arms, your body lay calmly under his weight on the soft cushions of the sofa while his head rested on your chest, letting his soft strands of hair spread over you so that you could sort them with your fingers, watching how the once blonde hair became darker and darker, as if indicating a transition of personality.

this was his nightly visits to your apartment — the search for comfort and at least a few hours of sleep, because for some reason you helped him fall asleep without the need to empty all the kitchen shelves clogged with tart drinks, he only needed you, the feeling of your warm body under himself and the way you tremblingly stroked his head, every second emptying his mind of any nightmares and dark recesses of the mind, filling everything with warmth and a thread of hope.

a thread for which he was afraid to cling so as not to remain broken and abandoned again — therefore, as soon as he habitually wakes up, as soon as the first rays of the sun break through the canvas of the sky to realize where he is, he silently disappeared, not allowing himself to leave a note or disturb your sleep, the only thing that hinted at his nocturnal presence next to you was the fleeting touch of a thumb along your cheek, leaving a warm touch even after a long time.

...

and from that moment on, he begins to appear on the threshold more often, allowing you to frown at the sharp smell of alcohol in his breath and realize that you cannot push him away, a sense of responsibility and regret for this man arose in you, the realization that you were salvation for him — the last hope for which he clung was when he came to a state below nowhere.

you nervously purse your lips and let him come in, let him into your abode in order to help and show that here he can be himself — and he is nobody to refuse you, because he himself is pulled here by a pressing feeling between the ribs and uncertain steps to again pull you into strong hugs, but this time it's different.

he pulls you into a sweet abyss in which you did not even think to be, until his warm lips lay on yours in a hot kiss, the tip of his tongue caressed playfully in your mouth, allowing you to taste the subtle notes of the alcohol he once drank, while your fingers tremblingly squeezed the collar of his leather jacket, digging in and pulling him towards you almost animalistically, defiantly.

his hand wanderingly finds its way to the back of your head, only to tilt your head for his comfort — to cut off the possibility of turning while the tip of his tongue continues to play in the wet cavity of your mouth, his kisses are played from deep to innocent, trailing his tongue over your glossy and swollen lips, making you cling to him tighter and watch his eyes curve into the smile at the corners of his lips.

it was the first time you allowed yourself to succumb without a second thought to some completely new feelings, only to end up under him on the soft sheets of the bed, your spine bending in an arc as his tongue hungryly bites the skin between your thighs, watching how your tender body shudders while the sweetest moans pour from the lips, and no musical instrument can repeat this precious melody.

...

scarlet watercolor marks form under his lips on your skin, which will become a wonderful reminder of what happened, of how his fingers slide higher to cover your pubic tubercle with his palm, fingers quiveringly touching your once most intimate place — a small pea on which he then began to draw gentle patterns , projecting light whimpers to slip from your lips in a desire to feel more pressure

— «L-Leon! p-please»

one of your pleas in an almost suffocated tone of voice is enough for him to stop teasing you through the unnecessary fabric of your panties, prying them with his long fingers and pulling them off your wonderful thighs to replace them with his lips, he carefully spreads your labia while his tongue nervously traces the path on his lower lip before he is completely adjacent to your clit.

his tongue widens a small path from which you cling to his hair with your hands, while he gradually begins to move more sweepingly and faster, giving you incredible pleasure — because of which the pressure in the bottom of your stomach became almost unbearable, while he deftly sucked and caressed your clit with his tongue, making your legs tremble and hips buck up in anticipation of the heady release that soon took over, covering his lips and chin with your arousal as he helps you descend from the height of your orgasm.

and you again lie in each other's arms, his hugs are as tender and enveloping as possible, while he buries his nose into your chest and you still stroke his head in the same habitual way, only to mutter a pitiful hope

— «Will you stay till the morning?»

his hands are clenched on your body, and hot breath no longer touches your naked skin, and you know perfectly well what this means, but he only swallows nervously and speaks in response

— «Yeah, of course..»

L I E

...

cloyingly sweet lies are gathered on the tongue in order to eventually push off from the tip and let it pass from his lips with the intention of deceiving not only you, but also himself.

with the next sunrise there is nothing next to you that would remind of his presence, and even the side of the bed, ironically located closer to the door, colder than ever, because he left you even before the sun had time to appear on the horizon, silently taking him after his dim rays.

gradually, everything that surrounded you turned into a dark space consisting of viscous lies and as far as possible sincere caresses, the last thing you wanted to believe in — was his sincerity.

you allowed yourself to be deceived, fed on a lie at your daily leisure and held on to it with a death grip as if it were the only thing that allowed you to live, and one thought that this should end covers your heart in a lingering pain, and hot tears flow down your cold cheeks.

weakness covers the body, because your fragile soul is not able to withstand such a huge burden and slow awareness of the whole situation, which makes you curl up under soft sheets into a protective ball and cover your hot face with your palms.

for the first time in a long time, you feel the salty taste of tears on your tongue and hear your heart beating furiously, the blood is noisily walking all over your body while you try to calm down in vain, and now the crying becomes completely silent, because there is no more strength left.

...

and that's when lies become an endless cycle in which you both go hand in hand, his hot touches are all over your body as if in the form of red handprints, your skin is covered with scarlet buds of passionate traces, while a velvet voice rings in your ears, enveloping you with viscous deceit

— «I love you»

empty confessions become something inherent in him — he showers you with a quivering whisper at night and under the pressure of sweet passion swears love, while his tongue gently runs along your neck, scratching the skin with his bristle, and a light sob slips from your lips from how deep he is in your wet cunt as your lips find his and kiss him passionately, all just to soothe the uncomfortable sensation somewhere under your ribs, a desperate attempt to get through to your mind and tell you that this can't go on any longer.

...

tonight is the last night when his fingers leave marks on your hips from a tight grip as his head is thrown back and a hoarse moan escapes from his chest as you raise your trembling hips to sit on his throbbing cock in the next second in one smooth movement, uttering desperate whine.

you literally see how fireworks explode before your eyes, and the tight knot in the lower abdomen persistently reminds of itself after the moan of long awaited pleasure, you bite your lips almost to the blood, throwing your head back and showing your neck, which has long been covered with scarlet buds and teeth marks.

the body rises smoothly, feeling a slight pain bordering on a welcome wave of pleasure that makes your body goosebumps.

your head is spinning, and your legs are becoming cottony, so in order not to suddenly fall onto the bed, you grab onto his strong broad shoulders like a lifeline that will soon have to be cut off while your pelvic movements become faster and faster.

your movements are sweeping, the room is gradually filled with hysterical moans and erratic sounds, while he directs your hips with his fingers digging into your skin, half closed eyes as his cock forms a small bulge on your stomach because of which he bites his lip and emits a low growl.

crystal droplets of sweat, like beads, gradually began to appear on the skin, you frantically licked your lips, sugary from the shine, trying to keep in touch with reality and sharp jolts inside your sopping cunt, a wave of excitement curling up in a lump in the lower abdomen.

each deep push was a measured touch on your g spot, while his hands slid from your hips to your buttocks to grab them and start moving at an almost animalistic pace, hitting your kervix with every sharp movement, the sounds of slaps spread more and louder around the room after the vociferous moans while you whispered in unison

— «G-going to c-cum.. mngh, f-fuck, Leon!»

— «Good, so fucking good, cum, cum for me, sweetheart»

bitter oblivion hits with a sharp blow, indescribable pleasure from orgasm rolls in a continuous wave, making the walls of your cunt shrink around his cock and your legs tremble, the warm knot in the lower abdomen grows larger and at the last minute Leon can not stand it, throwing his head back and pours out hot ropes of cum inside your spasming cunt, painting your walls while panting.

...

and that's when it all ends, you've been painting a picture of your final breakup from the moment those thoughts started attacking you to the moment he walked out of your shower, encountering a slight tension in the room that made him feel the most uncomfortable, which made him clear his throat and pronounce slowly, pulling on the last element of the once removed clothes, a t-shirt

— «Everything's alright? You look tense»

you look at him with intense gaze, rubbing the bridge of your nose and facing a lump in your throat, no matter how much you had imagined this moment — it’s hard to look at his tired look full of desperate affection, but it’s even harder for you when you see the emotions on his face that change after your whisper

— «That's our last meet, Leon.»

he swallows slowly, looks into your eyes dully while his hand runs along his chin nervously, not knowing where to put his hands from the awkwardness of the situation while he silently nods, picking up a leather jacket from an armchair in the corner of your room and instantly leaving through the door, saying under his breath

— «I understand.»

from that moment on, everything around you calms down, he gathers and quietly disappears, so quietly that you don’t even seem to hear the front door in the corridor closing behind him, while your legs themselves led you to the balcony to see his figure disappearing into the darkness, cold wind prickles your skin, but you do not feel the desired relief, because you are mired in it even deeper than you thought, listening to the roaring sounds of the engine starting.

© dmitriene - my masterlist

please, don't copy my works as your own, and if you want to post them somewhere else - contact me.

reblogs, likes and comments are very much appreciated, thank you for reading! ♡

[sarahowritesostucky]

Art: @hopelessartgeek

📖 "Medically Necessitated" Ch 3

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 are intersex (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

3. Bucky

Steve unexpectedly switches from being Bucky's attending physician, to his dedicated heat Support.

It’s funny: the stereotype of alphas is that they’re always these domineering, bossy, even selfish people who walk all over other designations to get whatever they want. But Steve’s whole life pretty much revolves around doing for omegas. Meeting their needs.

There’s his volunteer work at the shelter and at ASHDOM, there are the single omega neighbors in his building who all know he’s a pushover and who come to him first whenever they need furniture moved or can’t get out to the store because they’re in heat. And there’s his job, which usually sees him working a bare minimum of sixty hours a week, often many more.

He does nothing but cater to omegas.

Of course, he’s paid well for it. Nursing is a chronically underfilled field to begin with, and omega specialized healthcare is even worse. Especially when it comes to staffing alpha practitioners. Steve knows for a fact that his salary is several grand higher than any of his his beta coworkers doing the same job, simply because of the additional therapeutic value that his designation can offer.

He’s a federally licensed heat partner, is certified in trauma and crisis intervention, and he’s one of the only alpha nurse practitioners providing omega reproductive healthcare in the borough. It makes his days long and his caseloads heavy, but that’s okay because it’s more than a job to him, it’s a moral imperative, something that’s been drilled into him since he was six years old and play-dominating all the other kids in his kindergarten class: you must take care of those who are weaker than you.

Steve’s been working on the OOBGYN ward around trauma patients for more than five years now. He knows the protocols, he knows how to keep himself under control and keep his patients safe. So it’s not exactly the shining pinnacle of his career when he has to page his subordinates—the nurses he trained for Chrissakes—to come and help him the fuck out with a patient he’s mishandled.

Steve would’ve highly preferred it be Hope (she’d give him less crap about it), but it’s Sharon who shows up first at the door. She comes into the room, no nonsense, holding a 1cc syringe at the ready. She’s unseen by Bucky, who’s still keening and purring where he’s got his teeth buried in Steve’s shoulder. Steve gives her a terse nod, and Sharon brusquely walks over and shoots the sedative up Bucky’s nose before the omega even knows what’s happening.

Ninety seconds later, he’s out like a light. “Midazolam,” Sharon says.

Steve nods. That buys them at least thirty minutes to get everything set up right. Bucky’s mouth has detached from his skin, and Steve carefully lowers his limp form back down onto the bed. There’s blood smeared on his lips and chin—Steve’s blood. Steve swallows hard and ignores the answering pulse of blood in his dick. He’s all keyed up, body thrumming, primed to fuck or fight.

Sharon’s a professional, so she doesn’t look at his crotch, but she does wrinkle her nose and give him an unimpressed look. “What the hell, Rogers?”

Steve avoids answering, embarrassed. “Come on. Help me transfer him. Clock’s ticking now.” He climbs off the bed and Sharon undoes Bucky’s IV. They bring up the bed’s side rails and unlock the wheels, then begin the slow process of pushing him out of the room and down to one of the on-ward heat suites. “Don’t lecture me,” Steve warns, not in the mood to have his rookie mistakes pointed out. There are plenty of them.

He forgot blockers. He intoned. He scented. Fuck, did he posture? He probably postured. He certainly got too close, let the omega get his fucking mouth on him. Christ. Steve shakes his head at himself. He’d let his soft spot for Bucky put him in a vulnerable position, and now a traumatized patient has latched onto him right at the onset of the first heat he’s had in years.

Those are not the things the hospital pays Steve thousand of dollars extra for.

Well … actually they are, but they weren’t supposed to be in Bucky’s case. Steve is his attending. He’s not supposed to take on the role of alpha support, too. It’s not allowed.

“Who should I be paging?” Sharon asks as they wheel the bed down the hall and around a corner.

“Get Banner,” Steve grunts, not happy with it. He doesn’t want to give up the case to another doctor. All his instincts are screaming at him to keep Bucky as his, to keep the control and authority he has over the omega’s medical care. But he’ll get in big trouble if he doesn’t sign this off to another physician before they seal themselves up in a heat suite.

“Is he on call tonight?”

“Yeah.” Banner is a good doctor, a beta, and a great human being. Steve trusts him more than almost anyone to do what’s right for Bucky as his attending. “Give him my case notes and Bucky’s treatment plan,” he tells Sharon as they arrive at a heavy door with a small, shuttered window. “And get a hold of Sam if he’s around. Tell him I have questions. Tell him the kid latched onto me.”

Sharon raises an eyebrow. “You mean … your neck?”

“No, not my neck,” Steve snaps meanly. “I mean physiologically.”

Sharon shoots him a peeved look from her side of Bucky’s bed, but she doesn’t say anything. She knows that Steve’s not mad at her.

He’s furious with himself for letting it happen. It’s embarrassing. Steve’s supposed to be experienced. The second that Bucky started posturing and losing language complexity and calling Steve ‘Alpha’ over and over like that, the second he’d started keening like that, Steve should’ve put distance between them. He should’ve been well out of the room by the time the kid began scenting and slicking, not still sitting right on the damn bed, letting him do it all over his scrub pants.

They wheel into the suite and Steve looks from Bucky’s lax body over to the suite’s low bed. It’s just an institutional grade mattress on a box platform, large and durable and easy to clean. It’s sterile and standard, just like the rest of the room. Nobody’s brought up any nesting materials yet.

If Steve had done his job right, Bucky probably wouldn’t have hit heat until tomorrow. The hospital staff would have already received the requisition forms and prepared the suite especially for Bucky’s stay. Instead, it’s empty and stripped bare, sterilized from the last omega who used it.

There’s a fridge stocked with water and calorie dense snacks, a four piece handicap-accessible bathroom with a walk-in tub. There’s the large platform bed, and there’s a breeding bench over in the corner. Steve glowers at Sharon when he sees it. “Why is that in here?” he snaps. “Jesus, Sharon, get it out.” He glances at Bucky, irrationally afraid of the kid waking up and seeing it.

“The last patient booked into the room was Ace,” Sharon says, unamused. “You sure you want it out?” She nods at Bucky’s prone body. “He’s dynamic dysphoric. You might need it. I can fill out a req for the seeding machine if you—”

“No,” Steve bites out, trying hard to remain professional and not yell at his head nurse. “No. I’m not doing that to him.”

Steve knows what Sharon’s thinking: light sedation and heavy restraint, complete mechanization of Bucky’s heat. It’s what a lot of doctors would do, once they got a look at Bucky’s case file and issues. Just to get the whole process over with in less time, with less effort.

But Steve can’t stand the thought of forcing Bucky through his treatment like that. It would terrify and humiliate him. Steve would rather work through every step with Bucky than force him onto that bench. “Get it out of here,” he orders.

Sharon doesn’t argue, just removes the bench and herself from the room. When she returns, Steve is staring at the naked vinyl mattress with distaste. There’s nothing soft or safe or warm here. He doesn’t want Bucky to wake up to that. “Stay with him,” he tells Sharon. “I’m gonna run down to supply and get room prep.”

He leaves her there with strict instructions not to touch Bucky. Now that the kid’s latched onto Steve as his heat partner, he won’t take well to physical contact with anyone else. “Fucking stupid, Rogers,” Steve berates himself again as he takes the elevator down to the supply room.

He grabs a pushcart and loads it up with an assortment of blankets that the hospital offers. He throws in a bunch of squishy pillows too, then heads over to grab a presenting form from the selection of different mounting pillows. He chooses one in a forgiving foam material. It has detachable cuffs in front, which after a moment’s hesitation he decides to bring along, just in case. He grabs a soft microfiber cover for the form so that it’ll feel warm and comforting against Bucky’s body. Steve doesn’t want to leave a single hard fucking edge in the entire heat suite, if he can help it.

He does spare the sex toys a glance, but it feels wrong to select anything now. If Bucky needs it later Steve can talk to him about it, have one of the nurses req whatever items Bucky wants.

He moves fast, anxious to get back to the suite and make sure that he's right there by Bucky's side when he wakes. He stops at the pharmacy and swipes his ID badge against the dispensary that stores samples of all the heat technicians’ scents. He scans his fingerprint when it prompts him, then types into the keypad that he wants to withdraw two vials. The machine whirs and delivers the manufactured amounts of Steve’s own pheromones. Steve swipes them up out of the slot without any patience and starts shoving the cart back towards the elevators.

Sharon raises her eyebrows at the heaping amount of supplies that Steve rolls in with. “O-kay,” she says, and heads for the door. “I’ll fill Hope in. Banner’s on his way. He said maybe twenty minutes. Sam’ll be on morning shift and I left him a message that he should come by.”

“Good.”

“Steve?” She turns and looks back at him once she’s out in the hall. “This is also part of your job. Don’t beat yourself up too hard, kay?”

It’s on the nicer end of the spectrum of things Sharon would say, and Steve forces his face into a grateful sort of wince. “Thanks, Share.” He shuts the door behind her and flicks the switch on the wall that locks the door and lights up the red occupied light outside of the suite. He presses the intercom button. “Check.”

“Check,” Sharon confirms from her side. “I requisitioned you guys’ meals for the next seventy-two hours. Banner will call in once he’s here. … Hope’s paging me. Good luck.”

“Bye.” Steve releases the button and turns back around. He looks at Bucky, who’s still unconscious on the hospital bed. Steve walks over and chews his lip, regretful that they’d had to use a sedative. He knows the boy probably won’t be appreciative of that when he wakes.

Steve is aware that he’s got dried blood on him. He can feel it, tacky and starting to crust, pulling uncomfortably whenever he turns his head. He grabs the first aid kit from the room’s small supply cabinet and takes it into the bathroom. The mirror over the sink shows it all, and Steve winces at the mess. It looks worse than it is, probably.

He wets a gauze with antiseptic and bites the bullet and slaps it onto the spot where the skin is broken. He clenches his teeth and hisses at the sting, cursing quietly. A few, careful wipes and it’s mostly cleaned off and he’s able to see the individual teeth marks. Steve’s lips quirk despite himself. Kid had gotten him good.

It’s close to his glands, and Steve wonders if Bucky was consciously aiming for it. Probably not. Steve knows the boy was probably raised to try to force himself into sexually desiring omegas and betas only, probably females, and never alphas. Guiltily, Steve feels a little bit of a thrill at the idea of getting to be Bucky’s first sexual encounter with an alpha. He’ll be the first partner Bucky’s ever had to help satisfy his needs in a natural way.

He doesn’t count the people who assaulted Bucky. Even if they were alpha (and he has reasons to believe they were), they don’t count. They’re dirt, less than nothing to Steve. He’s going to make sure he wipes them out of existence from Bucky’s mind. He’ll make them less than nothing for the omega too, given enough time to take care of him the way he deserves.

Sighing, he gives his bloodied neck a few more careful wipes. It’s not bleeding anymore and he doesn't bandage it. He needs to leave that part of himself open and available to Bucky. If it’s something the omega wants, then Steve isn’t going to keep it from him. Steve’s been bonded a few times over the years, usually in sessions with his neediest patients. Detoxing off the high when he discharges them from care is never fun, but he knows how to get himself through it. If Bucky wants that connection with him, he’ll be more than happy to allow it.

Steve just wants to make him feel safe and good.

He puts the first aid kit away and starts making up the bed. He puts sheets on it, then roughly dumps all the blankets out into a kind of spread out pile. Still open for rearrangement, though. He doesn’t know if Bucky will want to nest it himself when he comes to. He lays all the various pillows out around the perimeter of the mattress. The mounting pillow gets set up by the head of the bed, out of the way. Steve doesn’t want to do anything that Bucky might interpret as demanding or coercive. Not right off the bat, at least. This is all going to go according to what Bucky wants and needs, not Steve.

Sharon buzzes through the intercom, announcing that she’s leaving bath towels outside the door. Steve retrieves them and sticks them in the bathroom for later. He checks the fridge, which is indeed stocked with water bottles, high-sugar fruit juice and cups of peaches packed in syrup, little portions of cheese and two ounce packets of almond butter—all good things for an omega to nibble on through a cycle. He pulls out the almond butters and sets them on the counter to warm up. He roots through the supply cabinet until he finds a box of the little spray caps that fit to the pheromone vials. He opens one, pops the cap on, then goes about spritzing it on various places on the bed. He doesn’t go too nuts, not wanting to overwhelm the omega when he—

“Steve?”

Steve whips around so fast, he almost trips over his own clogs. He sees Bucky, pushing up to sitting in the hospital bed and looking confused. “What happen’d?” he asks groggily, rubbing his face.

Steve sticks the vials in the fridge and hurries over to Bucky’s side. “Hey,” he says soothingly. “You got a little frantic back there, buddy. The nurse gave you something to calm down so we could get this room ready for you.”

Bucky seems to become more aware of his surroundings, and that he’s no longer in his hospital room. He looks past Steve, all around the heat suite. Then his attention fixes on the large bed. Steve sees his nostrils flare and his pupils shrink to pinpoints. He begins to shake his head a little. “No,” he whispers. “Please. Steve, please don’t make me.” He whimpers and his hands fly to his stomach, a cramp clearly passing through him. “Oh man,” he whines, distressed.

Steve had expected this. He’d wanted to have Bucky on the larger bed by the time he woke up, all snuggled and safe in a cocoon of soft things. He reaches out and touches the bed instead of Bucky, fingers stroking the boxy weave of the hospital blanket that covers Bucky’s leg only inches away. “It’s going to be just fine,” he tells him. “We’re in a private suite. It’s like your own little hotel room, see? You’ve got everything you need right here.” He points out different things. “There’s snacks in the fridge and the tv’s got all the streaming apps you could want.” He smiles. “Hell, the bathtub has jets.”

Bucky’s eyes do flick over to the bathroom’s open door, if only for a moment. But he’s quickly back to whimpering and wrapping his arms around himself. “No,” he says, staring at his knees instead of Steve. “S’wrong.” He shakes his head and mumbles quiet words to himself: gross, pathetic, unnatural. Horrible, wrong words that break Steve’s heart.

Steve feels that familiar flash of anger zip through him at the reminder of how horribly Bucky’s been treated his whole life. But that’s not productive, so he squashes the anger down and instead tries to think calming, soothing alpha thoughts. He long ago learned in his training that when helping an omega through their heat, an alpha’s thoughts influence their physiology, and their physiology influences their actions. Everything Steve does in this room now has to be geared towards helping Bucky feel safe and taken care of. Everything.

“Hey,” he says, sitting down on the very edge of the bed. Bucky seems hyper aware of his proximity but he doesn’t tense up or try to move away at all, which is a good sign. Steve lets his hand drift closer over the blanket, towards Bucky’s knee. “When you met with the counselor, with Clint? Did you guys talk about it? About being male omegas, your cycles?”

Bucky’s face looks pained and he still won’t look at Steve, but he nods smally. “Yeah.”

“I’d bet money that Clint didn’t use any of those words you just said, when he talked about it. Do you think those things about Clint?” This, at least, seems to get through to the kid. He peeks up at Steve, and Steve gives him a gentle smile. “I’m friends with him, ya know. He’s a cool guy. I actually think you two would get along.”

Bucky shrugs, unwilling to engage. He’s pouting still and Steve wants so badly to pull him in against his body and surround him with the pressure and reassurance of a hug, but he knows he has to do this on Bucky’s timetable. The omega is calmed out of the frenzy he was having when Sharon sedated him, but a cc of Midazolam up the nose tends to do that.

“I’m alpha,” Steve says gently. “So of course I can’t know what it’s like to go through a heat, not personally. But I’ve helped a lot of people through theirs. They’ve told me all kinds of things. Some sort of dislike it. Most enjoy it to some extent. But nobody has ever told me it’s wrong or unnatural.”

It’s a lie. Steve has had one or two other patients who felt the way that Bucky feels, dysphoric patients who were traumatized by abusers in similar ways, but Steve also knows that that’s not what Bucky needs to hear right now.

“Hey,” he says, finally sliding his hand far enough over the blanket that his fingertips brush Bucky’s lax ones on the bed. Bucky’s eyes fly up to him. “I know you can’t just change your viewpoint overnight. I get it. But it’s important that you understand that nobody else shares those negative thoughts about your body or about heats. I’m certainly not thinking them.” He tilts his head forward and asks, “What did Clint say about it, when you guys talked?”

Bucky is reluctant to tell him, but eventually he murmurs, “He said it’s intense, but it’s just our bodies’ way of feeling good. … He said it’s better when you’ve got somebody with you to help.” His cheeks are getting flushed, probably a combination of embarrassment and the effects of his heat. “He said he’s married to his husband and they love each other. That makes him like his heats.”

Steve nods. “Yeah, Phil. He’s a sweet guy. He’s actually one of the hospital administrators. We all go out for drinks together sometimes.” He’s trying to normalize everything, trying to make Bucky see that being omega and having heats is just another part of life that people go through, either on their own or through someone they know. “I have to say, I’ve always been a little bit jealous of the week of heat leave you guys get every month. It seems pretty awesome.”

Bucky looks at him like the words ‘heat’ and ‘awesome’ being used together don’t compute. His face flushes darker, and this time it’s almost certainly from embarrassment. “It’s gross,” he mumbles, looking away from Steve with a little scowl. He pulls his hand away from Steve’s on the bed and tucks his legs up under the blanket, hugging his arms around them. “Being like that, needing sex and having no control over yourself,” he says, spitting the words out like they’re bad, contemptable things. “Like an animal. S’pathetic.”

Steve sighs. Bucky’s got a long road of therapy ahead of him, that much is obvious. “It’s okay for you to think that, Honey, but you gotta know I’m gonna keep telling you how wrong you are.” Bucky looks back up at him at his assertive tone, and Steve nods. “I’m alpha, so I think omegas are lovely. And I’ve always thought it’s amazing what your bodies can do. It’s primal, sure. It’s powerful. Beautiful.”

Bucky pfts air between his teeth, disagreeing.

Steve lets his hand cover one of Bucky’s where he’s gripping his knees. “Especially to somebody like me. Seeing an omega in heat is a beautiful, natural thing. And every time I get to be with someone, when they let me help them feel good, it’s just the best thing.” There’s reverence in his voice instead of lust, and he can see the emotions passing over Bucky’s face as he takes that in. The disbelief starts to morph into a sort of cautious acceptance. Or at least that’s what Steve hopes it is. “I’m sorry you had people telling you otherwise for so long,” he says. He dares to curl his fingers over Bucky’s hand, and something loosens in his chest as the omega lets him. “Now you’re in the real world, though. Now you get to see how much everybody thinks you’re normal. Just another part of life. A great part of it, in fact.” He gives Bucky’s hand a squeeze. “So, will you let me spend your heat with you, Omega?”

Bucky’s irises flare and his lips part. Steve would be willing to bet the kid has never been called ‘omega’ with anything other than vitriol. And now Steve has said it like a title of honor. Bucky swallows thickly. “... Okay,” he says, voice barely there. Afraid maybe, but trusting. He’s trusting Steve, and that makes something golden and warm flare deep in Steve’s chest. “If it’s you,” Bucky adds meekly. “Only you.”

Steve smiles sadly. He’s not sure if Bucky fully remembers everything that’d happened in his hospital room earlier. “Yeah, Honey,” he reassures him. “I’m gonna stay with you the whole time. Just you and me.” He squeezes their fingers together. “It’s gonna be nice. I promise.”

Bucky blushes and squirms and won’t meet his eyes again, but he’s clearly pleased. He turns to look back over at the large, low bed. “Can I …” he starts, hesitant. “Can I go over there?”

“Of course, Sweetheart. It’s yours.” Steve pats the back of his hand comfortingly and then pulls away, getting up to go over and root around the fridge and make himself seem unobtrusive. “Why don’t you nest around a little bit? Make the blankets how you like.”

Behind him, Bucky is silent. Then Steve hears him get off the hospital bed, followed by the soft rustle of him climbing onto the suite’s bed. “... I don’t know how to nest,” comes quietly from behind.

Oh god. Steve lets his eyes slip shut for the barest second, at that heartbreakingly vulnerable admission. Once again, he’s struck by the intense urge to squeeze Bucky up in his arms, tight and secure and possessive forever. Focus, Rogers. He inhales deeply and fixes his face back to a cheerful neutral. He turns. Bucky is sitting in the very middle of the bed, legs folded under himself, looking like a lost little duckling in a sea of blankets. “Sure you do,” Steve says encouragingly. “It’s whatever makes you feel good. Whatever feels right.” He gestures to the various blankets and pillows. “Just start moving ‘em around. You’ll find what works.” He watches hopefully as Bucky bites his lip and considers his advice. He tentatively reaches for one of the pillows and switches it with another, fluffing it. Steve’s chest warms. “That’s it,” he encourages. “See? You know what to do.”

Bucky’s cheeks get more flushed and he tucks his lips in at the praise. There’s more confidence to him as he starts to pick up different pillows and move them, stuffing the edges of blankets around in various places.

“Rogers,”

Steve whips around towards the door at the sound of the intercom. He glances back at Bucky, who has tensed up at the interruption. “Keep working on it,” he urges kindly. “I have to step out for a second and talk with your new attending. I’ll be right back to see what you’ve done.” Bucky whines low in his throat, displeased at hearing that his heat partner is leaving him. But he obeys and goes back to arranging the blankets, and Steve is so proud of him. “Good boy,” he praises, then goes to step out into the hallway.

“Doctor,” he says respectfully once he’s out in the hallway with Banner. “Thanks for coming in. I’m sorry about this.”

Bruce smiles benevolently, if somewhat sleepily. “Happy to help. I gave his chart a look and read through your notes. It sounds like you made the right call to switch to his support.”

Steve shifts uncomfortably. “Yeah.” He knows that Banner could very well scold him over his mistakes, but instead he’s just letting it be. It’s a relief. “He just woke up from the sedatives a few minutes ago. I’m talking him through some nesting now, getting him settled in.”

Banner nods and brings his clipboard up to look at it as they talk. He scans Bucky’s chart, flipping between the pages. “Acute symptoms started about forty minutes ago?”

“Yeah.”

“What symptoms did you observe?”

Steve feels his neck get hot, and he brings a hand up to rub at it. “Um, well he slicked all over my pants.”

Bruce’s gaze falls assessingly to the large wet patch on Steve’s right thigh. He nods and writes on the clipboard. “Anything else?”

“Aggression, impulsive sexual touching, scenting, verbal regression, posturing,”

“The whole nine yards,” Bruce murmurs, nodding and finishing up with his writing. He looks back up at Steve. “Nothing to cause concern though?”

Steve shakes his head. “No. He rated his pain for me earlier. Just seems to be experiencing a typical level of cramping.”

“That’s good. Given the state of his infection days ago, I’dve been worried of something more severe.”

“That’s really cleared up,” Steve says. “A lot of the inflammation we saw there was actually his body rejecting the hormonal implants. Once we removed his suppressant and IUD, things really calmed down.”

Bruce nods, still flipping through the pages. “Okay. Still make sure to palpate his stomach. And conduct an internal before things get too wild in there.”

Steve fights back a wince. “Doc, he’s a very recent rape victim. I don’t think he’ll tolerate the speculum.”

“Then don’t use one,” Bruce says plainly. “If he can’t accept your fingers and you need a script written for benzos, we can do that.”

Steve tenses at the reminder that he’s no longer Bucky’s attending. He’s not the one who gets to make the decisions for Bucky’s care anymore. “Okay,” he agrees, anxious to get back into the suite and back to Bucky. “Not yet. But I’ll let you know.”

Bruce agrees and they part ways, and when Steve has locked himself back into the room, he turns and is met with the sight of Bucky working away at what’s quickly becoming a textbook nest. Steve beams. “Hey! look at you.”

Bucky spares him a glance, but then he huffs and he’s back to working away at getting the blankets just how he needs them. He’s like a cat: focused, satisfied and then frustrated and then satisfied again as he tries to get everything just right. It’s adorable. “They smell like you,” he mumbles, not looking up from where he’s working away. He means the blankets.

“Oh. Yeah. Yeah I scented them. Is that okay?” Steve waits for Bucky’s approval. When he gets a quick, silent nod, he’s satisfied. “This looks real good, omega” he approves, watching Bucky nitpick the final little details of the nest. Steve doesn’t miss how the mounting pillow hasn’t been moved from its spot at the far end of the bed. He bites his lip, thrilled that Bucky hasn’t rejected it. He could’ve tossed it from the nest entirely, but instead he’s kept it. Steve’s under no illusions that the kid doesn’t recognize the item for exactly what it is. When Bucky stops nesting and starts squirming, Steve holds his breath and asks, “Omega?” He waits for Bucky to look him in the eyes. “Can I come into your den with you?”

Bucky’s eyes go a little fuzzy at the request, dazed and pleased at being pursued by an alpha when he’s ripe like this. “Alpha,” he says plaintively, in lieu of an answer.

Steve hums and steps forward. “So good,” he praises. “Bucky, can I take my clothes off?”

“I …” Bucky’s eyes flick over him nervously. They land on the wet patch on his scrub pants and hold there. “Oh,” he breathes, face going slack.

“Yeah,” Steve touches the spot where Bucky had slicked all over him. “You remember that?” he asks. “Rubbing your bottom on me?” Bucky emits a high keening sound, distressed, but Steve shushes him and tuts. “No, baby. It was so amazing. You made me really happy when you did that.”

Bucky’s eyes flick up nervously. He looks like he can’t believe it. “I did?” he asks.

“Of course. It’s what your body’s supposed to do. It means you're healthy and aroused. That’s completely normal.” Bucky frowns a little, clearly still having intrusive thoughts about his nature. He whines and shakes his head, displeased, and Steve hurries to take a step closer to the low mattress. “Hey. Look at me, Honey. Please?”

Bucky squirms in place, rocking his hips in little unconscious movements. He looks up at him, and there’s awareness in his eyes. Awareness and fear. Steve can see how Bucky is perfectly aware of how differently he’s acting now, because of his heat. And it’s scaring him. “Steve,” he says, voice trembling. “Please. … I don’t think I can do this.”

“I’m right here, Buck. It’s okay. This is safe, remember?”

His lips tremble and a single tear falls down his cheek. “What’re you gonna do?”

Steve tries to give him the most reassuring look he knows how. “I’m gonna undress,” he says gently. “That doesn’t mean I’m going to have sex with you. We’re just gonna have some skin contact to start. Is that okay?” He waits for Bucky’s unsure nod before he pulls his scrub top over his head and tosses it aside. He’s wearing a white tee shirt underneath and he quickly removes that as well. Then Bucky’s inhale sounds, sharp and audible, his lips parting as he sees Steve’s body bared to him for the first time. Steve hums, pleased at the reaction, and pushes his chest out. He lets Bucky look his fill. The way the omega is sitting there, breathing open-mouthed and rocking faintly in place as his need builds, makes Steve’s balls feel heavy and full. He toes off his clogs and socks, then hooks his thumbs in the elastic waistband of his scrub pants. “You can undress too, if it’s what feels good,” he tells him. “I only want you to do what feels good for you.” Bucky just sits there and stares as Steve's scrub pants fall and his cock is revealed, half hard and obvious underneath his briefs. He rubs himself once from over the fabric, watching how Bucky's eyes track the movement. "Gonna take these off," he warns, not wanting anything he does to feel like a surprise to the omega. When he straightens back up from taking off his briefs, his cock hangs thickly between his legs.

And Bucky's eyes are riveted. “Oh,” he breathes quietly, all modesty and shame momentarily forgotten as he stares at Steve’s alpha body. “Steve,” he whispers.

Steve smiles, feeling incredibly tender towards the young omega. Bucky won’t be the first virgin he’s ever supported, but he might be the most vulnerable. Steve puts one knee up on the mattress, carefully cataloging Bucky’s reactions with every move he makes. He lowers his hands down into the mess of blankets, brings his other knee up, crawls forward slowly. “I’m coming into your nest with you, omega,” he says softly. “Your den. Where you decide what happens, right?”

“... right,” Bucky breathes, distracted.

Steve’s lips curl. “Can you undress for me now?” Bucky makes a small, hurt sound in his throat, but he listens and pulls off his hospital gown. Steve’s dick jumps against his thigh as he finally gets to see the boy’s naked body. “Oh, Sweetheart.”

Steve saw him that night in the ER, of course, but he’d been bloodied and bruised, wracked with seizures and burning up from infection. Steve hadn’t been able to look at him as anything other than an emergency that night. Bucky had been a body, broken and hurt and needing to be repaired, and Steve had done his job. Now, it’s amazing how much of a difference there is. Bucky is clean and healed and Steve can really look at him.

He has a natural tan to his skin. He's toned, with long, lithe limbs and muscles that are still partially hidden by a layer of baby fat. His chest and arms are strong, especially for an omega, but his hips round out nicely like they should, and his thighs are thick and welcoming. His belly is slightly distended, swollen from his heat. Everything about him makes Steve’s mouth water and his pulse thrum hard in his veins, pleased.

Bucky’s body is that of a fully-matured omega male, already having prepared itself for pregnancy and childbirth despite the years he was forced to take suppressants. Steve breathes a sigh of relief to see it. “Bucky,” he says honestly, wanting him to hear the arousal in his voice this time. “You’re so beautiful. Look at you.” He reaches out as if he’ll touch, but he doesn’t. “You’re perfect.”

Bucky flushes deeply at the praise and at being so closely scrutinized. There’s still a tension in him that’s unnatural, a wariness that serves to remind Steve that the omega was violated barely more than a week ago. Steve knees up closer to him and mirrors his position, sitting back on his heels, maintaining that small distance that reminds Bucky that this is his choice. He reaches out and puts a hand on Bucky’s hip, sliding it up his side.

Bucky flinches, and then he keens in distress when he sees the hurt that flashes on Steve’s face. “I’m sorry,” he says, looking ashamed. “Alpha,”

“Hey, no.” Steve tuts and curls his fingers in at the soft give of Bucky’s waist. “No, baby. Don’t apologize for this. You got hurt, and it’s scary. You don’t have to hide any of that from me. I want to know how you’re really feeling.” He reaches with his other hand and cups Bucky’s neck. He feels around and pushes in when he finds the glands there, hot and tight and swollen beneath the skin. The scent of fresh slick hits the air when he pinches down on it, and Bucky whines loudly. “Shhh sh sh,” Steve hushes. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”

Bucky whimpers and trembles, but calms down quickly with Steve’s hand massaging at his glands so pointedly. His eyes slip shut for the briefest of seconds, showing his trust in Steve, and something very close to a moan leaves his lips. It’s quiet, barely there, but Steve hears it. “Steve,” he murmurs, eyes still closed. “Oh …”

“What do you want to do, Honey?” Steve asks. “You want to get on your back? Why don’t you do that and feel those soft blankets against your body, huh?” He encourages Bucky to lie back and is incredibly relieved when the omega goes without a fuss. “Good boy,” he coos. “That’s just right. Yeah, isn’t that nice? Did such a good job on making this nest, Omega,” he praises. He sits back and crosses his legs and gives Bucky a moment to settle in. “There you go. Mmhm. Bet that feels real good on your skin, doesn’t it? Don’t worry now. I’m not going to touch you for a little bit. Just want you to get comfy in your nest. You gonna do that for me, Sweetheart?”

Bucky nods, scent calming more and more as he realizes that Steve isn’t lying, that he’s really not going to fall on top of him and force anything on him. His eyes open and flick over Steve’s face uncertainly. “What do I have to do?” he asks, emotionally vulnerable now but still with a degree of lucidity in his voice. It lets Steve know that he’s still dealing with his patient: a trauma victim. Bucky isn’t lost to his heat just yet.

Steve starts up a low, comforting rumble in his chest and keeps his hands on the tops of his own thighs. “Nothing you don’t want to,” he reassures him. “We’re here for you, Bucky. To make you feel good, and safe, and pleasured. I’m not going to do anything to you if it doesn’t make you feel all of those things, okay?”

Bucky almost looks like he’s going to cry at hearing Steve’s kind promises. He looks like a child who’s afraid to trust, who’s had promises that they’ve believed in yanked away before, many times. “Are you sure?” he asks, fearful.

Steve smiles sadly and grips his own thighs to keep himself from reaching out. “So sure,” he says. “Let’s just sit here together for a minute, okay?” He looks up at the ceiling and speaks to the StarkPhone assistant, “Hey Jarvis: play ‘sexual healing’ playlist.”

“Playing ‘sexual healing’ playlist.”

Steve looks back down to Bucky just in time to catch him wincing at the stupid name of the playlist. They share a chuckle over it, and then the music that Steve uses for people like Bucky starts to fill the room. There’s not actually any Marvin Gaye on it. Far from that, the instrumental music is somewhere between ethereal and sensual. It’s enticing, soothing, and Steve has always found it to be a good fit for patients who need help relaxing into their heats. “How’s that?” he asks Bucky, smiling down at him.

“Nice,” he says, inhaling slowly and letting his eyes slip closed as he relaxes, and exhales.

Something deep in Steve’s chest unspools at that huge sign of trust. This is good. This is going really well. “Okay,” he murmurs. More quietly than last time, he says, “Jarvis: dim lights to thirty percent, soft orange glow. Adjust room temperature to patient’s basal body temp, minus twenty degrees.”

This time Jarvis follows the commands without replying. The room becomes warm and glowing and comforting, like the inside of a womb. Steve sits still and allows Bucky to take time to relax fully. The omega’s scent is improving, softening and ripening into a healthy tone. Steve’s body responds to it, but he ignores his own reactions and watches Bucky intently. In the low light, his body gleams beautifully. The faint sheen of perspiration that coats his skin makes him look delectable. Steve wants to taste him so badly.

“I’m gonna get something,” he says quietly, not wanting to disturb Bucky from how he’s relaxing. “Not going anywhere, just a second.” Bucky makes a vague noise of assent, eyes staying closed. It makes Steve smile fondly.

He goes to the supply cabinet and gets a bottle of unscented oil. There’s a pin valve on the bottom of the container that he locks onto one of the pheromone vials. He squeezes in some of his pheromones then pops the vial back off, giving the oil bottle a good shake to properly emulsify everything. Having Steve’s alpha scent rubbed all over his skin will help relax Bucky, and it’ll help calm some of his body’s inflammatory heat reactions down.

Steve climbs back into the nest and sits next to Bucky’s prone body. He lets his eyes rake over the rise and fall of his chest and the smooth planes of his belly. He stares at what’s visible lower down; a small thatch of dark pubic hair just above his penis, everything else naturally bare and smooth. Steve can’t see his actual sex from here, but he can see the shine of slick that’s leaked out of it, smeared onto his inner thighs and gleaming in the room’s low light. It’s enticing to say the least.

Steve knows he’s not supposed to judge his patients’ bodies, but there’s no denying that Bucky is ideally attractive, right down to what’s between his legs. His little cocklet is short and soft. It’s fattened up thick but not erect. That’s to be expected. It’s rare that Steve sees a male omega who is able to get fully hard. Their bodies don’t produce the right hormones for it, especially during their heats. Bucky’s uncircumcised, the head of his little dick fat and flush beneath the foreskin. Steve knew all of this already, but somehow it all still feels novel. He’s looking at him differently now. Not as a doctor but as his alpha support, as someone who’s going to make love to his body, if Bucky wants it.

When he looks back up to his face, Bucky’s eyes are open and he’s watching him with an inscrutable expression. “Are you okay?” Steve asks.

Bucky nods silently. “I …” his eyes flash down to his dick and then away. “Um…” He squirms and presses his thighs together, ashamed. “It’s not, um, I’m not …”

“No,” Steve says firmly. “Bucky, no. You’re so perfect, Honey. You literally look like the classical sculptures of male omegas.” Bucky seems to be slightly reassured by this, which Steve knows is a minor miracle. He can imagine the sorts of things Bucky’s been insulted with over the years, all the ways his so-called family has told him his omega body is wrong. “Can I touch you a little, Sweetheart? Are you gonna let me touch this gorgeous body?”

Bucky shivers, eyes wide. He seems stunned that Steve likes the way he looks. “Okay,” he whispers.

“Good boy,” Steve praises. He squeezes out some of the oil and rubs it between his hands. It’s a dry massage oil, designed for omegas who’re in heat, their skin overly sensitive to stimulation. Steve reaches out slowly, telegraphing his intentions. He lets his hand sink down to rest on the top of Bucky’s thigh. He feels the omega shiver from the touch. He squeezes, digging slow and deep into the muscle, then releases the pressure and rubs firmly up and down, over and over. “Is this okay?” he asks. “Me massaging you?” It’s one of the most common techniques he uses for trauma victims, and Bucky seems to be responding to it favorably, if the lazy, pleasured look on his face is anything to go by. “Mm? Good?”

Bucky nods, staring at him through heavy lidded eyes. “Yeah,” he croaks. “It’s nice.” Between his legs, his little cocklet is just barely peeking out, a thin bead of moisture pearling at the slit . Steve notices with a slight smile, but of course he says nothing.

He brings up his other hand to deepen the massage. “That’s good,” he praises. “That’s what we want.” He keeps up the massage, doing one thigh and then the other, then moving down to his shins. Bucky makes a painfully erotic sound once Steve has pulled his foot into his lap and is digging fingers into his arch. Steve hums, continuing on.

Eventually Bucky seems calm enough that Steve sets his feet aside and encourages him to spread his legs so that Steve can move to sit between them. Bucky seems to know what’s coming, keeping his eyes pointedly closed as Steve eases his hands back up his legs, over his knees, and then up to the tension in his inner thighs. “Shh,” Steve soothes, rubbing back and forth. “Relax, honey. I’m just gonna examine you. Eyes and hands only, I promise. Take deep breaths.”

Bucky tries to listen, it’s obvious. But his breath still hitches when Steve brings both hands to his lower stomach and begins palpating the area. He peeks down at Steve, “What’re you doing?”

“Just checking,” Steve murmurs, focused on what he’s feeling underneath his fingers. “It’s normal for your uterus to swell during heat, but I don’t want to feel any hard spots.” He hears Bucky grunt in embarrassment, probably at being reminded of his own anatomy. “Shh, you’re okay. Everything seems fine.”

“... Steve?” Steve looks up and sees Bucky’s pinched expression. “Um, remember when you said I might not be able to have children?”

His heart squeezes at the obvious vulnerability in Bucky’s voice, how brave he’s being by asking. “We were worried about that, before,” Steve admits. “But your body’s been responding well to the treatment.” He notches his thumbs in at Bucky’s hipbones and strokes him softly there. “We still have to get your cycles regulated, but I don’t see any reason why you shouldn’t be able to carry a pregnancy just fine one day.”

Bucky’s cheeks flush and he looks a little overwhelmed at the words. “... one day,” he repeats meekly, and Steve smiles gently at him.

“Yeah Honey, one day. Not today. Not until you’re ready.” This seems to ease Bucky's fears, and his scent sweetens into something even richer than before. He smells like he feels safe, and that makes Steve preen in satisfaction. He’s making his omega feel safe. He rumbles low in his chest and watches how Bucky reacts to the sound. He slides his hands down to Bucky’s knees and encourages him to bed his legs up. “Can I see the rest of you?” he asks.

Bucky trembles and tenses, but he nods, shifting the tilt of his hips as he draws his knees up for him.

“Good boy,” Steve praises, knowing how hard it must be for Bucky to reveal this part of himself to anyone, let alone Steve. “That’s so good, Bucky. Thank you.” He strokes Bucky’s calves, soothing him. “Close your eyes if you need to. I want you relaxed for this.”

Bucky whimpers but he does let his eyes slip closed. He’s trying. He’s being so brave and strong and it melts Steve’s heart. Steve takes a moment to get some more of the massage oil on his hands. He leans over Bucky and smears the oil on either side of his neck, right over the glands, giving him his scent. He puts some just below his nostrils as well and Bucky moans softly. Steve sits back. He looks down.

Bucky is pink and healthy looking, swollen from the heat and soaked with a healthy amount of slick. Steve pushes gently on his shins to get him to bend his legs more. This tilts his pelvis up and exposes him to Steve’s view.

Bucky looks like any young male omega should. He lacks a clitoris because his body developed that part of his anatomy into a penis when he was in utero. His sex is fairly similar to a female's, with pronounced outer lips where he would’ve formed his testicles, if he hadn’t developed ovaries instead. Steve’s breath catches a little when he sees the boy's muscles clench, a thick gush of slick seeping out of his cunt. Jesus wept. Bucky whimpers and squirms, but Steve hushes him, telling him that he’s good, he’s fine, his body’s doing what it’s supposed to. “I’m going to touch you, okay?” he says softly, giving Bucky the chance to refuse. “I’m going to put my fingers inside to feel you.”

While it’s clear that this is very upsetting and hard for Bucky, he still seeks comfort in Steve, trying to be good for him. “Alpha,” he breathes, eyes clenched shut and face screwed up. He reaches down, searching for Steve’s hand.

Steve gives him his left one and squeezes their fingers together. “Right here, Honey. It’s just you and me, in private, taking care of each other. Nothing bad, right?”

Bucky nods tightly. “Y-yeah. Right.”

Steve smiles up at him, pained but so, so proud of how well he’s doing. “C’mere,” he coaxes, scooting up in the sheets and pulling on Bucky until he has the boy’s hips up in his lap. “There you go. That’s so good, Omega. You know just what to do. So smart.” Bucky responds to the nonsensical praise, his whines losing some of their stress and instead becoming more seeking, questioning things. Steve makes it his mission to soothe those sounds with his own. “I’m going to touch you now, Buck. Two fingers. It shouldn’t hurt, but if it feels uncomfortable at all, you tell me right away and I’ll stop.” He waits for Bucky’s nod before continuing, then traces the edges of his folds, gathering slick on his fingertips. Everything externally looks good, and the little Steve can see of his delicate entrance looks normal, if a bit heat swollen. The remains of his recently-torn hymen are still there, healed but jagged edges of soft tissue that evil, vile rapists created. Steve grits his teeth and forces his thoughts away from that, not wanting to think about what they took from Bucky, not wanting Bucky to become upset from an unpleasant shift in his scent.

Any physical trauma to the vaginal tissues will have healed in an omega his age by now, Steve knows, but that’s just the physical. Physical wounds always heal the fastest, and hurt the least. There are other, deeper hurts that Steve needs to help him with.

“Okay,” he whispers, setting his fingers to Bucky’s entrance. “A little pressure, no pain. Remember what you do if there’s pain?”

Bucky’s face pinches where he’s lying with his eyes firmly closed. “Tell you,” he murmurs, and Steve praises him with a deep rumble of approval.

“That’s right. Good boy. Okay now, deep breath.” He waits for Bucky’s chest to rise in an inhale before he applies pressure, and slips into his body.

Bucky’s lips part and he gasps, but it’s just reflex. He lets his breath out and sighs, making a little sound in his throat like he’s surprised that it actually didn’t hurt. “Oh,” he says.

Steve hums, pleased. “Nothing bad,” he repeats. He crooks his fingers, feeling with purpose along the omega’s walls. It’s tight inside, incredibly hot and tight like a virgin omega’s cunt should be. Steve keeps his arousal to himself as best he can, though he knows his scent will give some of it away. At least Bucky is keeping his eyes closed to relax, so Steve doesn’t have to worry about the boy seeing the undoubtedly devastated expressions of arousal that flash across his own face.

He’s alpha, and even though he’s undergone extensive training, there’s no helping certain things. Steve’s cock is hard and it’s not going down any time soon. He swallows thickly, focusing on the exam he needs to be conducting. Carefully, watching Bucky’s body and face for any flinches, he strokes and feels along his internal walls. Nothing abnormal stands out to him, though when he uses a different technique to feel closer to the entrance, he does notice the enlarged slick glands that he’d known were there.

They’re much better than they’d been on that night in the ER, at least. No longer raging with infection, able to be touched without causing extreme pain. Steve feels and identifies the structures, impacted from years and years of illegal suppressant use. Carefully, he eases into using more pressure, rubbing firmly.

Bucky groans and presses his hips down. “Oh god,” he complains, brow scrunching a little. “What is that?”

“Pain?” Steve asks, but Bucky shakes his head.

“Sore. Oh. Like a bruise.”

Steve hums knowingly. “You have four glands here, two on either side. They’re how your body gets wet, but right now they’re probably impacted.” Bucky makes a hurt little sound in his throat and asks what that means. Steve explains it to him. “There was a lot of old infection in them and that all needs depressed now that your body’s producing slick again. I’m gonna massage them to try and get the bad stuff out, okay?”

Bucky’s chewing his lip, making it red and swollen and very tempting for Steve to just crawl back up his body and kiss the abused flesh. “... okay.”

Steve decides to do the anterior two first, as they feel harder. “Here we go,” he murmurs. “If it hurts more than slightly pressing on a bruise, tell me. Don’t ignore pain. I’ll stop if we need to.”

Bucky nods tightly, expression strained. But he whispers, “I trust you, Alpha,” and Steve’s heart swells two sizes bigger in his chest.

A few minutes of firm, focused touching on the glands is all it takes to have them releasing. Liquid gushes over the back of Steve’s hand as the pressure gives and Bucky moans in relief. The smell of old, stale infection hits the air, sour for a moment before it dissipates. Steve uses his free hand to rub soothingly over Bucky’s lower belly. “Shh, it’s okay. You’re okay.” Against the sheets, Bucky nods his head blearily. Steve turns his hand and finds the posterior glands, and works those until they release as well. The amount of slick is incredible, and Steve knows that it must feel so much better for the omega now that all that poison is out of him. There’s immediately more room inside his channel, the glands back to being soft and spongy like they should be. Steve gives them a few more gentle strokes to be sure that all that backed up slick is out. “Good,” he rumbles low in his chest, proud of how well Bucky handled that. “That’s just lovely, Honey. Good job.”

Bucky peeks his eyes open, looking down to where Steve still has his fingers buried inside his body. His entire face is flushed and he’s breathing open-mouthed. “S-steve,” he slurs, searching Steve’s eyes out with his own. He’s a little wild, a little needy, and Steve responds, removing his fingers from the drenched clutch of his cunt and coming up to lay over his body instead. He puts his face close, giving Bucky eye contact and reassurance and an open invitation to scent him. “I’m here, Buck. I’m right here with you. What do you need?”

Bucky grunts with discomfort and hides himself against Steve’s neck, which of course Steve allows, turning his head to the side to give him better access to his glands. He cups Bucky’s head with his clean hand, encouraging him with deep, soothing sounds. “That’s good, that’s just right, Honey. Do what feels good. Whatever you need.”

Bucky keens, embarrassed but clearly loving the reassurance Steve’s giving him. He latches onto Steve, mouth on his glands and legs around his waist. He humps up against him and sucks needily on his glands. “Mmph, mm…”

Steve can’t help the guttural moan that escapes him at such contact. It feels so good. “Okay, Sweetheart, okay,” he pants, eyes squeezed shut as his dick throbs and blurts out precum against Bucky’s stomach. “Yeah, okay.” He loses control for a few seconds as his hips press down on Bucky’s soft body, but he reigns it in after a few thrusts.

Bucky complains with a noise, humping up for more as he mouths over Steve's neck. His teeth scrape and then catch, and then he bites down on Steve’s glands. Hard.

Steve grunts loudly at the flare of pain. The skin breaks and his scent wafts into the air, strong and different from before as Bucky’s saliva gets mixed into the wound. He hears Bucky’s muffled sound of enjoyment as his mouth fills with the taste, eagerly suckling for more. “... oh, fuck,” Steve moans. He digs his fingers in against Bucky’s shoulders and pants, trying to hold on, to stay calm.

He knew this might happen. Patients with needs as complex as Bucky’s are prone to biting. They naturally seek out the connection and pleasure of a bond, instincts overriding their minds as they seek the comfort they so desperately need. Bucky chirps happily at the burst of pheromones that he’s gotten, rubbing his face back and forth in the blood. “Alpha, Alpha,” he breathes, clinging onto him and humping up, getting his slick all over Steve.

Steve practices his breathing to try and stay calm. He pets Bucky’s shoulders and his hair, taking deep, grounding breaths. He’s careful not to pull away, not to deny Bucky access to any part of him. The pain from the bite is gone and the euphoria is setting in, making his skin tingle, his balls throb. He can feel his knot becoming erect. Bucky is rubbing his cunt along the length of his cock, and even with his training and his certifications and his long-practiced self control, even Steve has limits.

“Hang on, Honey. Hang on now,” he says, voice low with forced calm. He shifts on his arms over Bucky so that he can get a hand at the back of the omega’s neck. He squeezes. Bucky instantly goes limp, mouth releasing from Steve’s skin with a moan as he goes slack against the blankets. Steve pants for a moment, just calming himself down. “Okay,” he says, eyes closed. “Okay baby. Just ... just gimme a minute ..."

He's been bonded to seven people in his life. It never gets easier.

The euphoria is wonderful, all-consuming, an intense physical pleasure that’s different from pure sex and is very emotional—like doing narcotics and molly at the same time. It makes it very hard not to lose his control and simply fuck into the nearest available orifice. Which right now is Bucky’s soaking wet cunt. Grunting, he forces himself to pull back. He rolls off of Bucky and gets off the bed.

Bucky’s keening protest is near-instantaneous. “Alpha!”

Steve rumbles loudly to calm him down. “Stop. Omega. Be still.” Bucky whimpers but listens, and Steve sits down on the edge of the bed. He reaches out and grabs Bucky’s hand, giving him a comforting squeeze. “Talk to me,” he coaxes, waiting for Bucky to calm down enough to communicate. “How you doing, Sweetheart?”

Bucky looks pleadingly up at him, tears leaking out the corners of his eyes. “S-steve, I’m—I need…”

Steve’s heart clenches in sympathy. It’s not easy for an assault victim to say that they need to be fucked, especially when they have as much shame and dysphoria surrounding their gender as Bucky does. “Hey,” he says lowly, leaning over and sliding his hand up Bucky’s chest. “It’s okay to ask for what you need. What do you need, Baby? Tell me.” Bucky trembles and shakes his head, upset, so Steve cups the front of his throat and presses slightly, just enough to be dominating. “Tell me now, Omega,” he says, using his Voice to make it easier for him. “Tell Alpha what you need to feel right.”

Bucky moans and thrusts his hips up uselessly. He looks to Steve, relief in his eyes. “Alpha,” he croaks. “You, please. Want you.”

“Want me how?” Steve presses, not in his Voice but still domineering. He lets his fingers dig into Bucky’s glands, sees Bucky’s blood-stained lips part in a sigh of pleasure. “You have choices,” Steve says. He’s regained some of his control now, is more clear headed as he tells him, “We don’t have to have sex if it’s not what you want. You can use my hands, or my mouth. There are toys. I can have the hospital staff bring—”

“No!” Bucky whines loudly and squirms against the hold on his neck. Both of his hands fly up and grasp at Steve’s wrist. “No, no, Alpha, please. I need… I–I n-need it.”

Steve frowns, debating whether he should push and make him say it. After a moment of watching Bucky struggle and plead uselessly, he decides that no, he’s not going to force him to voice what it is he wants so badly. They both know what it is, and the last thing Steve wants is for Bucky to feel any sort of shame right now.

Only pleasure. That’s what he’d promised.

So, taking a deep breath, Steve gives himself over to his role a little more. He’s got Bucky’s consent, or as much of it he’s able to, given the state he’s in, and now he needs to be what Bucky needs him to be. He needs to be his Alpha. “Stay still,” he orders firmly, giving a little jostle to Bucky’s neck where he’s holding him. “I’m gonna get something. Don’t move until I come back.”

Bucky whines in complaint the entire time that it takes Steve to pad over to the fridge and back, but when Steve returns, he still hasn’t moved. Steve rumbles approval in his chest for Bucky to hear. “Good boy,” he praises, sitting down on the bed and helping Bucky to prop himself up, too. “Here. Drink.” He guides the water bottle to Bucky’s lips, helping him even when the omega brings his own hands up to hold it. Steve doesn’t trust the poor thing not to spill it all over himself. Steve gulps down what Bucky doesn’t finish, tossing the bottle off to the side somewhere. His eyes stay on Bucky, trailing up and down his naked body. “You’re so beautiful, Buck,” he murmurs, reaching up to trace the side of his cheek, his temple.

It’s true. Bucky’s whole body is flushed and tense. He’s sweaty, trembling with his need for touch and stimulation. When Steve cups the front of his throat again, the omega’s eyes slip shut and stay shut. He purrs. Steve rumbles in response and uses the moment that Bucky has his eyes closed, relaxed, to stare selfishly at his body.

His little cock is thickened, a perfect, fat little nub that’s almost thicker than it is long, chubbed up and leaking little droplets. But that’s nothing compared to the mess that’s coming from his cunt. He’s soaking wet down there, a combination of shiny clear slick coating his thighs and the sheets, and thicker arousal creaming right at his entrance.

Steve growls as he’s slammed with the hot urge to stick his face down there, tongue deep inside his cunt and swallow everything the omega has to give. He looks away for a second to get himself under control. When he looks back, Bucky’s eyes are fixed on him. “Omega,” Steve grits, forced control darkening his tone. “I want to try something. Something to make you feel good. But I need you to tell me if you want it.” He watches Bucky carefully, watches his mouth and his eyes, feels the thrum of his pulse underneath his hand. He scents the air to gauge his reaction as he says, “I want to put my mouth on you. I want to eat you out. I want to make you cum that way.”

Every sign that Bucky could possibly give him that he wants it, he does. He jerks in Steve’s hold and keens, hands grappling all over Steve’s hand at his throat, up his wrist and his forearm. “Yes!” he gasps, crying a little bit in shame. Steve scents the smokey tint of it in his scent, polluting what should be nothing but pleasure and acceptance. Bucky is ashamed that he wants an alpha to touch him this way. “Sweetheart,” Steve coos, thumbing away one of the tears. But he leaves it at that. More tears follow. Steve knows he can’t expect miracles today. Bucky can cry about it if he needs. He can squirm and flush and cry while Steve pleasures him with his mouth, so long as he comes.

That’s what therapy’s for.

Steve pushes him back to lie flat on the bed. He bends over and kisses him, keeping it shallow and gentle even when Bucky gets a little bit desperate and tries to get more. Steve tuts and pushes him back into the blankets. “Be still, ‘mega,” he commands gently. “Alpha’s gonna make it better, you’ll see.” He pulls some of the soft things in from the edges of the nest, rucking them up close around Bucky’s head and shoulders, making a tight little barrier where he can feel held, safe and snug. “Okay,” he says, satisfied by how Bucky goes a little lax in the cradle of the blankets. “Yeah, there we go.”

“Alpha,” Bucky says softly, looking lost. He’s completely dependent at this point, so incredibly vulnerable that it makes Steve's cock ache.

“Sweet boy,” he murmurs. “It’s gonna be okay. Alpha’s gonna make you feel good now, okay?” He waits for Bucky to give him a slow little nod. He pecks one more kiss to his bitten-red lips, then starts trailing down his body, one kiss at a time. He’s sorely tempted to waste some time sucking at the omega’s chest. His little pink nipples are so perky and flushed, and Steve just knows he could get his breast buds to swell up so beautifully if he only paid them some attention.

But Bucky hasn’t consented to that, and Steve hasn’t asked, and he has to be very careful of treating Bucky’s body in only the ways he gives consent for and can tolerate. Bucky’s been through so much pain and he’s been forced into things no omega should ever be forced into. His experience now has to be positive. It has to.

Steve sinks down between his legs and stares at his wet cunt. He’s pulsing with arousal, his entrance contracting rhythmically, pushing out more of that cream. Steve releases a guttural moan at the intense smell of it. “Fuck,” he breathes. There’s no amount of training that could help him resist this.

He covers Bucky’s cunt with his mouth, lapping across his slit. The taste of his arousal is sharp and amazing, made even more so by the fresh effects of the bite to Steve’s bonding gland. He groans against his mound and holds him down roughly at the hips when Bucky jerks wildly.

He’s crying out, sobbing wordlessly and thrashing up against Steve’s mouth. “A—Alpha!” he gasps, sounding like he’s protesting as much as he is begging. “Oh, oh, oh!”

Steve tongues into his hole furiously, over and over again, fucking him with the muscle. He can feel Bucky fluttering around him, his body trying so hard to clamp down onto something. Steve hears the growing displeasure and desperation in the boy’s keening cries, so he reaches to push his little cocklet down flat and starts thumbing rapidly back and forth under the head.

Bucky screams and starts to come.

As soon as Steve realizes what’s happening, he moves his mouth up and takes his cock in his mouth, replacing his tongue with fingers in Bucky’s cunt. It throbs and pulses around them, milking him, drawing out the orgasm. Bucky’s hips grind up against Steve’s face and hands, and Steve can only work him through it, listening to his desperate sobs and wishing he could be kissing his face, too, whispering encouragements into his mouth as he falls apart so sweetly.

“That’s it,” he says when he’s finally let Bucky’s cocklet slip from his mouth. He’s speaking against the swell of his belly, still rocking fingers inside him as the boy twitches through the waning pleasure of his climax. “That’s it, Omega. Take it, take it. Just feel it.”

Bucky’s sobbing quietly and shaking from his core as Steve finishes guiding him through it. “S-steeve,” he keens, upset and needing reassurance. He pulls at Steve’s shoulders, urging him back up his body. Steve goes obediently, eager to calm him down now.

“Shh sh sh,” he soothes, kissing all over his face and then down to his neck. He sucks his glands on one side, pinches with his fingers on the other. “Good, you’re so good Omega. That was perfect. Alpha’s so proud of you.”

The scent of Bucky’s shame is stronger now than it was before, but it eases up the longer Steve goes on, reassuring him with touches and words and chest-deep rumbles that he’s done exactly what he’s supposed to, that he was good to take his pleasure that way and that his Alpha is so, so happy with him now.

“So good,” he kisses into his skin, scraping his teeth over the swollen glands but restraining himself from anything more. “So good for me, Bucky.” He comes up to lie over him and look down at his face. He’s beet red and tear stained, and he’s never looked more beautiful to Steve. Steve smiles softly as they both calm down, and he thumbs at his wet cheeks. “Did that feel so good, Sweetheart?”

Bucky’s lips tremble and he nods and cries a little bit more. “Yeah.”

Steve coos. He kisses him, calming him down. When Bucky’s scent is almost free from that shame and embarrassment, he pulls back and smiles down at him. “Do you have any idea how perfect you are like this?” he asks softly. “Any idea how much I want you right now?”

Beneath his body, Bucky shudders. He looks wonderingly up at Steve and whispers, “No.”

Steve hums, then lets the sound develop into a mature rumble deep in his chest. He gets off of Bucky, pulling back and getting up on his knees, sitting back on his heels. He watches Bucky, keenly aware of how the omega’s attention drops right to the proud jut of his cock between his thighs.

Taking a deep breath and trying his very best to wipe any trace of an opinion out of his voice, Steve asks, “What do you want now, Omega?”

Art: @hopelessartgeek

A.N. This ended in a stupid spot because it was getting too long. More to come!

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🎨Art in banner by the incredibly talented @hopelessartgeek, who makes a ton of amazing Stucky art. Check her out! (The piece in the banner, used with permission, was not made for this fic.)

Tags: @scottishrosefury, @not-that-syndrigast, @lolitsbuckybarnes, @kathy-2005, @stuckysgal, @thenewmissescullen, @sapphirebarnes, @Yoruse, @autumnrose40, @alexakeyloveloki, @gretasimp, @kandismom, @ivoryangel1290, @mrs-rogers-barnes1, @iloveshawnieboi, @m0k0k0, @sousydive, @sapphirebarnes, @kandis-mom, @juicyfruit-22, @bloodrosefuryao3

[distant-velleity]

cat got your tongue?

Summary: Five times Yuhua didn't say what he thought and one time he finally snapped at someone other than Ace (verbally. You don't get the physical beatdown yet). Word count: 3.6k+ A/N: LMFAO okay so. I had this idea like 3 weeks ago but I only got around to writing it recently. It's ... honestly somewhere between serious and slightly crack treated seriously but yk fuck it we ball. No beta. Outsider POV. FloYu crumbs and everything. Let's go. (Also a sneak peek at my new OC :))) ) Taglist (lowk forgot who's on this so uhhhhh. Some people might have been tagged incorrectly): @thehollowwriter @theleechyskrunkly @elenauaurs @casp1an-sea @nahelenia

@boopshoops @skriblee-ksk @nemisisnemi @nyx-of-night @scint1llat3

@the-banana-0verlord @beneathsakurashade

~

I. 

One day where he can make it out of the cafeteria in peace. That’s all Florian wants. And yet—

“Hey, freak. Where’s that meal combo you promised to get for me? And the homework you said you’d do for me?”

Eeeek!!!

Florian almost bursts into tears on the spot when someone in his grade, a burly bear beastman, grabs him by the back of his collar. It hasn’t even been two weeks into the school year and this guy, Darren, has made it his personal mission to target the weakest student he could find. 

“Uh—um—I—” Aaaahhhh!! Get me out of here!!!!! “M—My housewarden, Rosehearts, he… He caught me trying to do your homework for you, a-and…”

“Bullshit,” Darren snaps, “You—”

He’s cut off when someone bumps into him—that someone being none other than the magicless assistant, Yuhua. 

Yuhua. Florian’s saved! He’s really saved! Surely, the person who’d suddenly gotten involved with Heartslabyul’s tyranny and pulled off such heroic moves can do something about this…!!

“Whoa… Sorry. What’s going on here?” asks Yuhua.

Darren glares at him, and Florian wilts from second-hand fear. “Nothing, just a talk between classmates. Keep moving.”

Florian gives Yuhua the most pitiful, pleading, desperate look he can in the hopes that it’ll communicate a cry for help.

It seems to work, because the TA turns to the other freshman and tilts his head. “Yeah… That’s definitely all that’s going on? No intimidation or anything?”

“How’s any of that your business?”

“Hey—” Yuhua throws up his hands in a placating gesture, although his expression looks very bothered. “I’m just asking…”

Well, that doesn’t work. Darren lets out a low growl from the depths of his throat. “Who the hell do you think you are, seriously? You think a bunch of rumors are gonna make me afraid of you? Fuck off already.”

Yuhua frowns. “Then… Then maybe you shouldn’t consider doing this in the middle of the cafeteria if it’s private business?”

“Are you kidding me?” Another pissed off growl, and Darren shoves Yuhua. “I could burn you to ashes like it’s nothing. Don’t forget that you’re magicless.”

It’s not directed at Florian, really, but he can’t help but wither and shrink into himself even more on Yuhua’s behalf. Scary… He wants to say something to defend Yuhua, to say that everything’s fine, but—when he looks over at the TA…

Yuhua opens his mouth automatically as if to say something, then closes it. Florian isn’t nearly good enough at reading that kind of complicated expression yet, but he seems to consider something deeply for a second. “Jeez… You know what?”

“What?”

Florian stays silent, eyes wide. He mentally echoes the question—what? Did Yuhua come up with a genius plan to de-escalate the situation? Or to retaliate? Please, please, say this knight in shining armor will do something—

“I just remembered, Crewel needs Florian for something~” Putting on a smile that seems fake even to Florian, Yuhua switches up his mood like it’s nothing. “Sorry. Maybe we can resolve this another time.”

Florian and Darren blurt out, “Huh?” at the same time. 

“Come on. He won’t wait forever.” Yuhua pats Florian on the shoulder and uses that to quickly weave them into the crowd of students, making their escape. As much of an escape as it can be called—they’re really only saved by being smaller compared to the beastman, small enough to get through the lunch line mob.

Sigh…

To be honest, Florian was expecting something a little cooler after seeing Yuhua’s defeat of Riddle, but as long as he’s safe for now…

—

II.

It’s a beautiful day outside, the birds are chirping, and the flowers are blooming… something like that. Meanwhile, Ace could be doing something fun right now, but he’s stuck doing an assignment for potions class. Collecting ingredients in the botanical garden… does it get more boring than that? Someone, free him already.

At least he’s pretty sure Yu’s around here somewhere. So, once he’s done collecting a jar-ful of some plant with a name too long to memorize, he’s off to find his yellow-eyed partner in crime.

Making sure to avoid the tropical zone (Yu had warned him about a… uh, certain lion beastman taking naps there), Ace navigates the garden with the ease of a slightly-familiar tourist. The TA had said he’d be near the entrance, so—

“Well? What are you just standing there for?”

…Huh?

Ace turns a corner on the path and is immediately greeted by a sight he probably should have expected—a fight, or something, a commotion smack in the middle of the botanical garden.

“You—Is there some cue I’m missing here?” asks Yu, and Ace realizes with some horror that he’s holding a very obviously bruised cheek. Umm, what the fuck? “Is this suddenly your… territory, or something?”

The other guy, the one who’d spoken earlier, crosses his arms. “No… but I told you to scram already, so scram. Just seeing a magicless charity case here makes me sick.”

Magicless charity case. It’s not the first time Ace has heard those words directed at Yu, and it definitely won’t be the last. Still, it makes his blood boil, and by the looks of it Yu is getting pretty pissed, too. 

Ace steps forward, finding his place next to Yu. “Uh, who the hell even are you?” he asks the other guy. “Don’t talk to Yu like that.”

“Ace?” Yu blinks. “What are you—”

“See? A charity case.” The other guy tsks. “You even need a freshman to help you out.”

No, seriously, what is this guy’s deal? What did Yu even do to warrant getting hit and treated like this? Ace swears the TA is a magnet for trouble. 

“He’s not—” Yu closes his mouth, and takes a deep breath. “Okay, then. Have it your way. Ace, did you get everything you needed?”

“Yeah, but—”

“Great. Let’s go.”

Even though Yu is a solid eleven or so centimeters shorter than him, Ace finds himself being dragged out of the garden by the coat lapels. He stumbles, but Yu keeps pressing forward, storming away until they’re well out of earshot from that prick.

Finally, Yu lets go.

“What was that?” Ace demands, straightening his labcoat to the best of his ability.

“I don’t know,” mutters Yu. “Some asshole. I don’t even know his name.”

“Okay. And why did we just leave like that? He hit you, didn’t he? And what he called you—you’re just gonna let that slide?”

Ace is, to be frank, nothing short of bewildered. Doesn’t Yu have any sort of dignity, a sense of, what, honor? Yes he does, Ace is pretty sure he’s seen it, so why didn’t he just… you know… let himself be mad?

Yu rolls his eyes. “It’s fine. There were still other students there, you know. I didn’t want to cause a scene.”

Cause a—

“Now, can we go to the infirmary? I don’t like talking to the nurse on my own.”

“You—”

Oh, what the hell. 

Ace doesn’t get it at all, he wishes Yu would have stood up for himself, but fine. That stupid bruise won’t heal itself.

—

III.

To call the Mostro Lounge boring would be inaccurate. With a bustling population of both students and employees at most times of the day, there’s always some entertainment to be had for Jade. Especially when he’s on the job, serving drinks and handling disputes.

But, well… That isn’t to say he minds when there’s a bit of additional drama. Especially on the day when Azul has asked Yuhua to cover someone’s shift.

CRASH!

An Ignihyde student shoves the TA, although it looks like a mere accident—a rush to get back to his well-earned seat after using the bathroom. Consequently, the drinks for their table are spilled… all over Yuhua, who’s been knocked to the ground.

“What the hell?!” demands the student. “You clumsy little bitch—those were our drinks!”

Stunned, Yuhua is frozen, staring at the fallen drinks in shame. “I—”

Oh, dear. There’s a bit of a berth forming around them, multiple people craning their heads to look at the source of the shouting, but Jade can get a good look even from this distance. 

“I can’t believe this.” The student continues to go on a tirade, complaining about the service, about whoever let Yuhua work—and finishes off with, “What do you have to say for yourself?”

Oh my—what arrogance. 

Jade is rather certain, actually, that this Pomefiore student was one of many who had been turned into anemones by Azul just a few weeks ago. It seems that he’s painfully unaware of how much Yuhua had sacrificed to save his sorry hide, however.

And Jade is certain that the same thought is running through Yuhua’s mind right now, although he can’t quite see his face. The TA digs his long nails into the fabric of his pants, a clear sign of suppressing anger.

Oh, dear~ Perhaps, it’s time for Jade to extend a helping hand—

Instead of fighting back, Yuhua lets out a soft sigh that blows his bangs out of his face. The action reminds Jade something of a popped balloon.

“Sorry,” the pitiful TA replies, finally raising his head. His expression is neutral despite the remaining redness of his cheeks. “I’ll take care of it. You’ll be rightfully compensated for this.” Said a bit despairingly, resigned. 

It seems to appease the student, who grumbles a little more before sitting back down. 

Yuhua’s lips set into a thin line for a moment. He gets himself back onto his feet, only kneeling down again to collect the fallen drink glasses and tray. The other waiters make a respectful, awkward space around him as they walk by.

How… disappointing. Jade would have anticipated more of a fight, based on not only certain rumors but also what he had seen during Azul’s Overblot, but it seems Yuhua hadn’t quite reached the boiling point just now. Instead, he’d settled for people-pleasing.

If it were me, thinks Jade with a pleasant smile on his face, I wouldn’t have let that ungrateful anemone escape with all his teeth and joints intact.

But in any case—

“Do you need any assistance?” he asks, approaching Yuhua.

He gets a surprised look for his troubles, and a rejection. “No, it’s okay…” Yuhua smiles, laughing it off. “The customer’s always in the right, right? I’ll handle it myself.”

Having been brushed off, Jade simply watches as Yuhua scurries back over to the kitchen counter.

Hmm. I wonder if he’s simply playing the long game, then…

—

IV.

Of all the places that Jamil usually expects to hear arguing, the library ranks last. Generally. Not that it’s always free from arguing, but that’s probably on him for having even the slightest faith in NRC students. 

Speaking of which, that’s exactly what he hears when he enters the library one day after classes: arguing. It’s coming from behind a shelf, so Jamil has to guess who it is based on voice alone.

“Please quiet down.” That’s… Crewel’s assistant, Yuhua. “Crewel needs me to borrow this, okay?”

“Uh, hello? Are you not good enough to be his assistant, or something? I need it more. So just hand it over already.”

Jamil stifles a sharp, stressed inhale. That’s a Scarabia student, no doubt—one of his former roommates. Ugh. And just when he thought he could skirt by without having to get involved. What a way to reflect poorly on our whole dorm…

He creeps around the side of the shelf, and what he sees confirms his well-educated guess. A student with a maroon armband towers over Yuhua, who holds a rather thick textbook in hand. The student’s back is to Jamil, but Yuhua’s expression is still visible…

Wait a minute. What the hell? Is… Is Yuhua glaring at the taller guy?

Jamil recalls a conversation he’d had with Ace just the other day: Ace had been in such a hurry to get out of practice that he’d caused multiple… inconveniences for others.

“Yu’s gonna kill me if I’m late for studying!” was his excuse.

“Why are you so scared of Yuhua?” Jamil had asked. Even though Yuhua had been… present, for his Overblot, he still didn’t quite get the control the TA seemed to have over the freshmen. 

“You don’t get it, man,” Ace had said. “I almost pissed myself the first time Yu got seriously mad at me. You don’t think anything’s happening because he’s just narrowing his eyes at you, but it’s like toggling a lightswitch. He gets violent out of nowhere.”

At the time, Jamil had shrugged it off with his normal amount of skepticism. Even though he had proved himself able to be as two-faced and cruel as any other student in this school (Jamil never, in his life, wanted to be on the receiving end of the full Octavinelle trio’s scheming again), Yuhua still seemed too… docile. Too naturally passive to be like that when angry. It wasn’t the first time Ace had exaggerated, either.

But now, he’s seeing all the warning signs Ace had mentioned. How Yuhua is narrowing his eyes like an irked cat. If he allows this to continue, then—Oh, great. A fight. In the library, no less. Another problem he’ll have to clean up because it’s his dorm’s student who likely started this mess and will inevitably get into trouble.

With a long-suffering sigh, Jamil steps forward to intervene—

“...Okay, fine,” Yuhua concedes, although it’s a bit of a reluctant grumble. He holds out the textbook instead of bashing it over the student’s head like Jamil had expected him to. 

A scoff. “See? Wasn’t that hard.”

“...Right.” Yuhua turns as the student walks away, so his expression is unreadable. 

Huh.

Jamil stares blankly for a few moments. That… did not go as he expected, at all. 

So much for ‘explosive anger,’ really. Yuhua had just given up.

Well, whatever. Jamil will just chalk it up to Ace’s overdramatic nature and think nothing of it. As long as it was resolved peacefully without needing him to risk grey hairs…

—

V.

When Vil calls for a rare water break, Rook takes the opportunity to observe the NRC Tribe’s stiffest fledglings. 

Today, again, they’ve taken on pirouettes in a corner where they can still see the mirror. Certainly, it makes for quite a sight: the normally-withdrawn TA trying to instruct two freshmen who have likely never seen a true ballet performance in their lives.

Rook had known Yuhua had a history in dance and music from the start—there was a clear lift to his chin and in his posture when he didn’t feel insecure, holding himself high and sitting on the edge of every seat. He walked with a slight turnout, and was light on his feet; not to mention the controlled expressiveness of his hands. However, the TA didn’t seem to enjoy flaunting these facts, making moments like these all the more enjoyable. 

“Epel.” Yuhua frowns, a little soft and yet a little frustrated. “Are you trying?”

The Pomefiore freshman bites the inside of his lower lip. “Uh, well…”

A sigh. “That’s about what I thought. Vil and I aren’t asking much: just a clean single so you can master the basics.” Yuhua crosses his arms. “Is something on your mind?”

“I just…” Epel grimaces. “I still don’t get it. What’s so manly about any of this turning?”

Ah, there it is again.

Rook does not intervene, continuing to observe, even though he can see Yuhua’s eyes briefly twitch into narrowing and his lips press into a strained smile. Any dancer would start to lose it after yet another generalization of their field, especially an ignorantly derogatory one. After multiple generalizations, in fact.

Like any trained performer, however, he smooths it down. That self-control is beautiful in its own right, no matter how strained.

“Manly, huh…?”

Epel yelps as Yuhua, deceptively calm, grabs his arm to adjust it.

“Your elbows are too stiff. Don’t interrupt the line; make them look round and effortless.” A tap to Epel’s back. “Don’t lean forward when you plié, you’re not about to break into a sprint; if your pelvis isn’t under you, then you’ll be off-balance when you turn.” And then, a nudge to the underside of Epel’s chin. “Don’t look at the ground. Look at yourself in the mirror. Keep your chin level so you can spot properly.”

The foundational advice is given almost clinically, automatically. Rook watches with keen interest as Yuhua withholds the same kind of scathing strictness Vil would have easily dished out, even though this must be the second or third time he’s had to say these things to Epel. 

“Deuce,” Yuhua asks levelly, “did you hear everything I just said?” To the trained ear, it sounds like a test, an I am on my last straw so there is only one correct answer here.

Thankfully, one of his students is more eager to learn than the other. “Yes!” is the earnest reply from the two of spades, who is already adjusting his posture after listening with the utmost dedication.

“Thank you.” Yuhua turns back to Epel. “We don’t have a lot of time. Just focus on improving for the SDC, okay?”

Epel bristles at being treated like a child, but nods. 

A smile spreads across Rook’s face. Ahh, the liveliness of a dancer and his mentees at work…

“Rook.” Vil’s voice snaps him out of his momentary reverie. “Let’s continue practicing.”

Right. Duty calls.

 “Of course~”

—

VI.

By now, Floyd had noticed, most people were learning to steer clear of starting shit with Yu. On top of him making more friends, on top of the (true) rumors that he’d Overblotted, most people had probably just accepted his presence.

(It also probably helped that Floyd regularly finds great joy in standing behind Yu and scaring off anyone who tried to be a problem.)

But, even then… 

Some people don’t take the hint.

Floyd doesn’t know how or why it started, only that when he walks into the courtyard of the main school building, there’s someone yelling at Yu like it’s his Seven-given right. It’s so loud, like a dog’s yapping. So annoying.

Bark, bark, bark. Floyd doesn’t listen to the full thing because it’s not worth his time, but it feels like it goes on for forever. To the point where people are gathering like it’s some kind of show, heads turning.

What a serious mood killer. Maybe Floyd should get involved, start a fight. Let everyone have a piece of this idiot. It doesn’t look like Yu will: he’s just standing there, silent, suffering quietly like he usually would.

“What’s wrong, cat got your tongue?” taunts the nasally little offender. Of course, he’s the worst breed of coward—only able to say these things once Yu is on his lonesome. “No one’s here to defend you now, huh? Aren’t you gonna say something?”

Silence.

“Well?”

“Haaah…” Yu closes his eyes. “I’m seriously sick of your shit.”

“Huh—”

That’s the only thing the yapper can get out before Yu grabs him by the face. His fingers dig into the person’s cheeks, the palm of his hand conveniently muffling any complaints. If looks could kill, he’d be a murderer. 

“Didn’t you hear me the first time? I said I’m sick and tired of your bullshit!” Yu shouts. He angrily tightens his grip. “Listen, buddy, I don’t know who the hell you think you are—I don’t know who half the people at this school think they are—but someone needs to humble you, desperately. Have you heard yourself?” 

His voice reaches a high, mocking pitch: “Ohhh, no! There’s a magicless person at my school, but I think I deserve to be hot shit because I can make a few pathetic sparks with my magic! I’m gonna pick on him to assert my nonexistent dominance because I think he looks like a weak doormat!

“Yeah, well, womp fuckin’ womp. Being chosen by the Dark Mirror doesn’t mean anything. You’re just a copy-and-paste of every other small fry I’ve met at this school. Ego in the clouds, even though your performance is so bad that you reek of failed contracts and the threat of being held back. Am I right?” Yu scoffs without waiting for an answer. “Grow the fuck up already. Aren’t you embarrassed? Don’t you have any respect for anyone?” 

He lets go with a shove, pushing the previously-confident person to the ground. Yu’s heel finds a nice spot to rest on the student’s chest and send a message.

“Do us all a favor and actually have the bite to back up your bark next time. You’re making a fool out of yourself.”

And even after yelling like that, Yu walks away like it’s nothing.

Oh, Sea Witch. Floyd feels ready and raring to kick ass again. 

That was great.

—

(bonus:

Riddle has no idea how he ended up in this situation, but here he is. Having ended up next to Floyd, watching Yuhua curse a student out.

For good reason, of course. But Riddle didn’t even know that the TA had that in him.

“...Well.” Riddle turns to leave—that’s enough of enjoying the ‘show’ for today. He makes to weave his way out of the crowd that’s gathered, but something makes him pause. He looks up.

There’s a dumb, dopey, lovestruck look on Floyd’s face. That’s the only way Riddle can think to describe his smile, mismatched eyes following after the exiting Yuhua.

…what can he even say in this situation? Riddle stifles an embarrassed grimace and walks away.)

[sinimake]

Some writing tips i use that makes writing less hard

Hope some people might find it helpful idk. Read below.

I always start with dialogues. Arguably, it is the easiest part that advances the plot the most. I write down dialogues with the barest of tags just to indicate who's saying what.

Now, add the tones, movement, and expression into the dialogues tags. Characters gotta deliver the lines somehow and you fill the space between the conversation.

When conversation is happening, internalization must occur. If you're writing from A's pov, and A and B are having a conversation, A gotta listen then reflect on B's words. You don't need to do this after every sentence but it is one of ways you set the pacing of the story. For example, B tells a shocking news to A, A take a moment to absorb the info and think. The internal thought can be from a line to paragraphs and the lenght of it sets the pacing.

Furthermore on the pacing, i personally like to equate the amount of time reader spends on reading to amount of how much they need to linger on the scene. Imagine in a fight scene, you keep the sentences short, to the point, and not complicated to deliver the fast speed of combat. When you lengthen the scene and sentences, you are putting them in a slow motion in midst. So control the pacing with your words.

Now, let's tackle settings and expositions. You can apply the tactics i use in my dialogues, but one golden rule i keep is that i write things readers can't experience first hand. If your characters are playing uno, you don't need to explain the rules in detail. What you need to do is be in the head of your primary character. Don't say winter was cold and snow was falling. You describe how character is feeling the cold on their back, snow is featherlight on their cheeks, etc.

Since we are talking about character pov, let me mention head hopping. Head hopping is where the general pov of chapter changes/hops characters in the midst of the writing. Example: we are reading from A's perspective, and then suddenly, we get a passage on B's inner thoughts, which A should not be aware of. Personally, i find head hopping distasteful. Some people can do it artfully and purposedly, like Stephen King. But if you don't have experience in that style, avoid head hopping like a plague. If the pov is in A, you only show outward emotions and actions of B.

Now you have general direction of the writing, let's add ✨️Character flare✨️. I like to think this is where you, as a writer, really shine and obtain your style. Your character is the essential core of the story, so when you write, the narrative must have their flavor. Percy Jackson series is widely liked because it is so fun to read from his perspective, his humor, and his outlook. If your character is a cop walking down a street, you show the world through their eyes. Are they double-checking dark corners? Or eyeing suspicious looking people? If your character has weird sense of humor, they will probably describe things in obscure details. Go wild with it. If your character is gen z, you can write in their cringy slangs (/j)

Now we have the skeletal of writing done. Till now, don't bother with editing. Only write even if the sentences sound shit. When you're done with base draft, you go back with a critical eye. If you're stuck on a scene, immediately skip. You can come back later with a fresh head space. Perfection is something you should worry about only in the final stage of editing.

Strange tip, but put your font to Comic Sans if you can, you will thank me later. I know it looks so jarring and ugly, but something about it makes the brain go lose on the creativity cork. I was skeptical first too, but it worked on me, and now i have 73k words in 3 months under my belt. *shrug*

And voilà, the very simplified breakdown of writing. Hope you found it somewhat helpful and happy writing everybody 😊 💪✍️

[dianneking]

The Set-Up - Miranda/Reader (Top of the Lake: China Girl)

Crossposted on AO3 - if you prefer to read it there, follow this link!

Summary: Reader is crushing hard on Miranda, and yet somehow ends up on a date with Robin organized by none other than Miranda herself. Light angst, mostly Miranda being a hot mess tbh.

Tags: Mutual pining, jealousy, fake relationship, spying on people, Miranda being a clueless hot mess (as per canon), lil’ bit of angst, matchmaker!Robin, height difference, smoking, present tense, second person pov, ungendered reader.  Words: 3767

The Set-Up

You watch as Miranda enthusiastically waves goodbye at Detective Griffin before coming to lean against the wall by your side. Wordlessly you offer her a cigarette out of your pack, and she accepts with a muttered Thank you, sticking it immediately between her lips and lighting it up. Maybe it’s because you are somewhat more tired, maybe it’s because today she looks particularly happy and it tugs at something deep within you, but today’s the day where you throw caution to the wind and ask her what you have been ruminating on for quite some time.

"So, what's the deal with you and Griffin, huh?"

"We're on another case together. It's a good one."

"Only that?"

"What else?"

"Come on, Hilmarson, are you really going to make me ask?"

"I... I don't understand what you mean."

"You two seem pretty close, that is all."

"We sorted out our differences."

"Isn't that just great?"

"What's wrong with you today? You are being more waspish than usual. Didn’t take enough smoke breaks?"

"Don’t try to change the subject. Are congratulations in order? Are you two an item now?"

"What? No!"

"...if you say so."

"We really aren't! She's like my sister or something. Is that what was pissing you off?"

"Of course not! Why would I care if you and Griffin were hitting it off?"

"Oh my god, it is. You are jealous."

"No I'm not"

"You so are!"

"Am not"

"Are too!"

"Piss off!"

You shove her playfully, but doing so makes you painfully aware of your height difference, and you feel suddenly very small and nervous. If your crush for Miranda is so evident that even herself can call you out on it, you are worse off than you thought you were.

You try to sneak a glance up at her, and you see her beautiful face corrugated in a frown, as if trying to piece together a puzzle. Has she already figured out everything? Maybe you should consider making a tactical retreat before you dig yourself too deep into a hole. But at the same time, you are not willing to give up any time the two of you spend together.

Damn. She's so out of your league it's not even funny, you think, watching how the warm glow of the afternoon sun shines through her blonde eyelashes. You should probably have been more careful in letting your feelings known, you think as the silence stretches on uncomfortably. Now there's going to be that embarrassed little dance of her trying to let you down and you telling her that it's okay (it's not), you understand (you do), and that you hope you two can still be friends (you really, really do). You are not ready to give up your smoke breaks spent together, all the laughter, the jokes, the heart to heart talks. Miranda is the brightest part of your day, and you'll be damned if you'll do anything to hurt your friendship.

 "Hey I... I think you might have a chance, you know?"

"What?" You barely manage to choke out. Is she…

"Yeah, Robin is single you know. And you are witty and smart like her, you two would get on like a house on fire."

Oh no.

The implications of that sentence hit you like a cold shower. Is she really that clueless or is it some sort of joke? She's not the person to purposefully try to hurt you by mocking your crush, you know her well enough for that. You know she means well, and yet your heart sinks as surely as a rock in cold water. She's totally misunderstood, but that in itself is an answer.

"Miranda, that's not..."

"You know what? I can set you two up for a date!" She whips her phone out before you can try to get in a word, her tongue peeking out of her lips in a show of concentration as she types away. You try your best not to stare at her mouth as she does so, but you are entranced. So much so that you miss your only occasion to stop her.

"There you go!" she announces with a satisfied smile as the phone pings with Griffin's answer "She says she's up for grabbing lunch with you at Tony's tomorrow if you pay for it."

You try to swallow your disappointment, but it stays as a bitter knot in your throat. She might not be dating her detective partner, but she for sure isn't interested in you, if she's so quick to try set you up with her. She looks down at you, with so much excitement shining on her face that for a moment you get lost in those sparkling blue eyes. She's so gorgeous, and sunny, and kind. You really cannot be blamed for falling for her. It's just your usual rotten luck that she only sees you as a friend. So much so as to play matchmaker for you.

And you are so desperately in love with her that you cannot bring yourself to burst her bubble, to be the reason that her infectious smile drops from her lips, and so you don’t say anything. You don’t tell her that when the two of them storm through the station on their way to another case, or when they lean together, their heads close as they look at the computer screen together, it is not Griffin that you can’t take your eyes off from.

"So, what do you say?"

"Uhm…sure, I guess…"

“But of course, that’s what friends are for, isn’t it? You go get your girl!”

You shrug, trying to squash down the hurt that the word friend carries. You might as well go to this lunch with Griffin, hopefully you might be able to pull out of her whether Miranda is seeing someone else. Not that that would change much, would it? You should start trying to resign yourself to the fact that you really have no chance with her.

Also, Miranda looks positively giddy with excitement at having set the two of you up. Not when she has so resolutely stated that she only thinks of you as a friend. You are not going to make a fool of yourself confessing feelings that won’t be welcome and would only make your interactions awkward. Grabbing a bite with Griffin is for sure the lesser embarrassment of the two. Or at least the least damaging for your friendship. Because even if you can't have Miranda as your girlfriend, you are going to fight tooth and nail not to lose her as a friend.

 You only hope that Griffin won't be an arse about it.

“Why are we even here? Didn't you have a huge crush on Miranda?”

Obviously, it had been too much to ask for.

“...”

“I’ll take that as a yes. So why let her set you up with me?”

“If you knew that already, why did you agree to this date?”

“I wanted some free lunch.”

“Oh wow. Way to make someone feel appreciated, Griffin.”

“And I was curious.”

“Were you?”

“Yeah, I wanted to see what she sees in you.”

“Nothing much, probably, if she tried to peddle me to you at the first chance she got.”

You try to keep the bitterness out of your tone, but you still bite viciously into your sourdough sandwich, and you can hear Griffin scoff.

“Oh please, it's obvious that she's pining for you just as much as you are for her.” You can feel yourself burning with embarrassment. Still better than the alternative, you remind yourself. It's just a lunch.

“I might even believe you if she hadn’t just put me firmly in the friendzone, so please, Griffin, can you drop this and just enjoy your free food?"

 Miranda tries not to feel guilty as she peeks beyond the wall corner to watch her two colleagues through the window of the café. She just wants to see how the date goes, that's all. Since she's the one who made it possible and all of that, she feels somewhat responsible for it. Like a fairy godmother for your budding relationship. Her friend and her work partner hitting it off…that has to be a good match, right?

Everybody agrees that Robin is the absolute best detective in the station. And you...well, you deserve nothing but the best. And if you two work it out, she won't have to share her free time between the two of you, right? The three of you will be able to hang out together all the time, and all will be just grand. One big happy family.

She can see the two of you in conversation, and cannot help the nervous tapping of her fingers on the wall she's hiding behind. She can see you shrug, an embarrassed grimace on your face. She can see how red your ears have turned - she can't get over how cute you are when you blush. For all of your tough talk, she thinks affectionately, you really are just a big softie. Have you already told Robin of your crush for her?

What will her reaction be?

Maybe Robin will reject you, and of course Miranda will be there to help you through your heartbreak, to comfort you as you had done for her when her affair – it’s a relationship, babe – with Adrian had crumbled like a sandcastle built too close to the ocean. Because that’s what friends do for each other, right? And Miranda is very happy to be your friend.

She absolutely is.

Really.

It's just that…

It's just that sometimes she allows her mind to run free, and she finds herself wondering how it would feel for once to hold your hand as you lean against the wall outside the station side by side, how your hair would feel if she buried her hands in it, how your lips would taste if she were to… No. She really shouldn’t. You're her friend, and she's pretty sure normal people don’t think about kissing their friend.

Unless they have romantic feelings for their friend. And she surely doesn't. Does she?

…

Fuck.

She totally has romantic feelings for you.

How hasn't she noticed? How long has she been feeling this way towards you and mistaking it for friendship? Suddenly she feels like bashing her head against the rough brick wall. How could she have been so dumb? She has even helped to set you up with Robin! Wow, good job, Hilmarson. Great. Couldn't she have realised it like two days ago? Even for her standards - she's the first to admit that she has messed up multiple times in her life - that's one major cock-up.

 “See? She's totally into you as well, she's even spying on our date.”

“That might just be because she is curious. If she wanted me, why would she try to set me up with you? Come on, Griffin, you must be smarter than this. Aren't you supposed to be the best detective in Australia or something?”

“Ha-ha, such a flatterer. Look, I know what I’m seeing. And lucky for you, I’ve got an idea.”

“Lord help us all.”

“What if I pretended to go along with it?”

“Griffin, I am flattered, but I thought we had already been over how I'm not interested in you.”

“That's why I said pretended, genius. She’ll see us together, get jealous and realize her feelings for you.”

“She won't. You might be a decent detective, but you suck at relationship advice. Oi! Remove your hand from mine, this is ridiculous.”

 She shouldn't still be here, Miranda thinks, and yet she can't seem to be able to rip her eyes away from the way Robin has grasped your hand above the coffee table, her face opening in a lopsided smile.

This isn't fun anymore. Not since she's realised how badly she has fucked up in helping you two out. Miranda swallows, her eyes never leaving Robin as she slides out of her side of the booth and moves to sit beside you. She's never seen that sort of playful grin on Robin's face, unless she was totally hammered, and to see it when she's sober, and on a date with you of all people… Robin wants you too, doesn't she?

Well, of course she does. I mean, look at you, you are lively, smart, funny, attractive, and Robin might be many things, but she for sure isn’t blind or stupid. She has to know how much of a catch you are.

Miranda can only watch helplessly as Robin - the same Robin who refuses all sort of affectionate contact, struggling to even hug her own daughter - is leaning into you, nuzzling your neck, and whispering something in your ear. You jolt up as if electrocuted, and turn towards her, shock clear on your face. What has she said to you? Miranda feels like she's going insane, stuck on the outside looking in.

And then Robin chooses that moment to plant a kiss square on your lips.

Miranda turns tail and flees.

 “What the fuck, Griffin?”

“It's gonna work, trust me. I know Miranda.”

  Miranda leans against the wall next to the station, in what over the years she has come to think of as your spot. If she closes her eyes, she can almost fool herself into thinking you’re by her side, as you always are, cigarette dangling from your lips, always ready with a sarcastic quip, or a funny retort. Except you're not there. You're still on your stupid happy date, that she had pushed you into, like the moron she is.

She's been chainsmoking since she came back from spying on you, and the longer it takes for you to come back, the more harshly she pulls in the smoke between her teeth, trying to lessen her stress. Trying not to picture what you and Robin could be doing that's taking the both of you so damn long.

She tries to ignore the painful constriction of her heart at what her traitorous mind conjures up. The mere thought of Robin's small hands safely ensconced in your bigger ones, of her mouth exploring yours as Miranda had been dreaming of doing even before she recognized her feelings for you, of the two of you hugging or worse, makes her want to scream at the top of her lungs and hit something.

But she can't.

You're her friend, she should want you to be happy, shouldn't she? And if that means stepping aside and supporting you in your relationship with Robin, of course she'll do just that. Because Robin is the one you're interested in and there's nobody on earth Miranda can think is more different from her than Detective Griffin. Robin simply is everything Miranda has never been: petite, professional, smart, careful and precise. It's no wonder you like her and not big, clumsy, helpless Miranda.

Miranda, who's a terrible friend and cannot even support you wholeheartedly in your new budding relationship.

Miranda shakes her head, dropping the butt of her cigarette to the ground and moodily stepping on it. She should be happy for you, should be grateful to be allowed to be your friend, it's not like she has  a whole lot of those anyways. The sooner she starts to accept the fact that there's no hope for anything more between you two, the better it'll be for her poor heart.

She just didn't expect it to hurt so much.

But what's taking you so long? Is that how it's going to be from now on? You and Robin, so wrapped in each other that you forget about Miranda, leaving her alone once again, cast aside, begging for scraps of affection from her friends?

She can feel the tears filling her eyes at the mere thought.

 "You're back! How…how did it go?"

Miranda’s smile is too big, her eyes too watery for it to be sincere. For the first time you allow yourself to hope against all hopes that maybe, maybe Robin has a point.

But maybe you are just seeing what you want to see.

“Are you alright, Miranda?" Her laugh is high, nervous and ends up in a sort of hiccup as she clumsily claps you on the shoulder, rocking you with the strength of the impact.

"Of course I am! Why wouldn’t I be, there’s a new, blooming romance in the station! And between my best friend and my partner, to boot! Isn't that just grand? Are you gonna tell all the others about it, or should I tell them and save you the pain?”

Her happy-go-lucky voice is so fake it twists your heart and almost makes you miss what she has said.

“Nonono, there will be no telling anything to the others!”

The last thing you need is for the whole fucking station to think you and Griffin are an item. You wouldn’t hear the end of it. It’s already bad that Miranda thinks that. And hopefully you can somehow clear that up.

“Is that something Robin asked you? Does she want to keep you as her dirty little secret? You shouldn’t settle for that! You deserve more!” She gesticulates wildly at this, her hands cutting the air with agitated gestures, as she defends your honor against imaginary slights.

“That’s not it, Miranda. It’s just-“ But she cuts you off before you can get a word in.

“You shouldn't hide your feelings! You two are totally made for each other. Go be unapologetically together!”

"Why are you so adamant in pushing us together?" You finally snap, irritatedly. She's not making any sort of sense. She's trying so hard to get the two of you together even if it's obvious that she's not happy in the least about it. And even though you are starting to think more and more that this might all be a huge misunderstanding, it cuts to hear the woman you love trying so hard to set you up with someone else. What if Robin wasn’t right? What if Miranda really only saw you as a friend and nothing more?

"What do you mean? Didn't the date go well? You sure looked like you were hitting it off pretty well, and you took your sweet time, too." She mutters the second part softly, as if it has come out of her mouth without her really wanting to, then promptly blushes a deep red.

You always found her adorable when she blushed.

"Miranda, I need to know it, why were you spying on us?"

"Oh god, you saw me? I… Uhm I…I just happened to drop by Tony's, I had totally forgotten that the two of you were there. So I uhm hid, because I didn’t want to make it uncomfortable for you. Hehe, that’s all."

"Is… Is it possible that you might like me?" You throw all caution to the wind because really, at this point you need a clear answer.

"No!" She answers too quickly "Of course not! You are my friend. I like you as a friend!" Hope stirs once again, but you don't dare to believe it quite yet. Not while she keeps denying everything.

"Miranda, you are many good things, but you are a terrible liar."

She suddenly rights herself from where she was leaning against the wall and makes as if to move towards the station.

"Well, I…I need to go. I just realized that my lunchbreak was over like five minutes ago and I-"

You stop her, a hand on her wrist, and a pleading tone to your voice.

"No, please. Stay. I…"

She stops, but she stays with her back to you. When she speaks, her voice wavers ever so slightly.

“You don’t have to spare my feelings, I know what you want to say.”

“You…do? ‘Cause it seems to me that this is all a huge misunderstanding.”

“Of course. A misunderstanding. Sure, that’s one way to put it. Just another big clumsy mess, made by big clumsy Miranda. I guess we’re used to it by now, aren’t we?”

She turns now, and you are shocked to see tears streaking down her face.

“That’s not what-“

“It's OK,” she interrupts you once again, angrily wiping the wetness off her face as she looks at you with a solemn, sad look into those beautiful big blue eyes of hers, “I know that you like Robin, I would never do anything to ruin your chance with her. You really make a perfect couple, I am serious about it. I just need a little time to adjust.” Her voice is picking up speed, as if it's impossible to stop now that she's started, “I am so grateful to have you as a friend, it's not like I expected you to return my feelings. Hell, I didn't recognise them for what they are until I saw the two of you together. And I would never let something like that ruin our friendship. Everything can stay perfectly the same, even if you are with Robin and…and I know I am a terrible friend that has fallen for you after setting you up with your crush but I want you to be happy and please don't hate me."

You blink under the onslaught of words she's unleashed on you, and when she abruptly stops, all that can be heard in the small alley to the side of the station is her heavy breathing, as if she had just run a marathon. Her shoulders are shaking and you can't see her face, dipped as it is into her collarbone in shame.

Your heart breaks at seeing her like this, at the sheer thought that Miranda could believe even for one second that you hate her.

You stand right in front of her, cradling her red, downturned face in your hands, tilting it ever so slightly up from where it was staring at the pavement, so you can once again look directly into her beautiful blue eyes, now swimming with tears and swirling emotions.

She's such a mess, you think affectionately. But she's a lovely mess with the biggest of hearts, and you wouldn’t want her any other way.

"Miranda, I could never ever hate you. In fact, it's quite the opposite. I… I think I love you."

"As…as a friend?"

"No, dearest, no, not as a friend."

And you hope there's no mistaking your intentions now as you press your lips to hers in a kiss that the both of you have been daydreaming about for way too long to admit.

Liked it? You can find more of my fanfiction on my masterlist!

[bidisasterevankinard]

Inspiration Saturday 👑

tagged by @steadfastsaturnsrings

mood board for bra fic to finally end (I will really hope it will help) (i need title)

Meet new wip you rule my heart(I am your royal slave) or King Eddie and his Lord Buckley

thanks to make me think about King Eddie @mandzuking17 💙💙💙

snippet (long) under cut

Because perhaps he has the crown on his head and all the kingdom in his hands, but Lord Buckley has his heart in his hands and his brain wrapped around his long fingers he traces over his waist, tugging the sheets, which hides his as King suspect naked body, lower to the point that Eddie can see the V-line, and with just one look and and faced expression promising what King will have if he just does one thing he was asked. 

Send miss Flores, Christopeher’s english teacher, from the castle. 

Eddie wants to laugh at the fires of jealousy he sees in the oceans but he doesn’t dare to do it because he knows that his lover can easily lock himself in his bedchamber and he wouldn’t be able to even touch him and eventually he would break and do what his Lord wants anyway.  

Eddie just wishes to know what happened that his lover who was happily sleeping when Eddie left him in his bedchamber to have breakfast with his parents, did not come to check on him after, how he always does to cheer Eddie and remind him that he is a much better king than Ramon was and kingdom was blessed with him. And then of course give his King the pleasure so good that the king does not think about anything more than sweet kisses of plump lips and silky hands on his body touching his most sensitive part till the point Eddie sees the heaven. 

After last night King expected that perhaps his Lord would even be in the mood for more than his hands or mouth to bring Eddie to the point of bliss. King really expected to feel the warmth of all the body he cherishes on him while he too deep inside his own blessing in the form of miles of pale skin with freckles, blue eyes and long legs with strong thighs that his lover knows how to properly use to ride him on any surface. 

But Ramon and Helen left for their castle where they live after retirement after breakfast, and Eddie had one meeting today, but his lover did not show.

That is why, wanting to find out what was the reason that the routine that brings happiness to the king for almost ten years suddenly broke. He did not find his Lord in his bedchamber where he left him in the morning, thus he went to check in the Lord’s and of course that is where he found his definitely angry lover reading a book while lying naked, only with diamond necklace Eddie gave him on their one year anniversary and since then it is his favorite to wear, and some rings Lord puts down only during bathing and sleeping. His body hides under silk blue sheets, which makes his pale skin almost shine and beg to be touched and claimed.

However, the King knows better when try to touch his Lord when he is moody. King should listen to what his heart wants and give it to him.

“I will ask Booby to find a new teacher as soon as possible, my love,” Eddie says, reveling in the way his lover waves his head in approval that his hair falls over his eyes and he tucks one of the curls behind his ear. 

“You better do it faster, in a week the most, or,” Buck, the name only the chosen ones have the right to call king’s heart and soul, points his fingers with three rings Eddie gave him during years of their love, three because Buck likes to wear as much jewelry as he can showing off to everyone, who marked this way by King, even if only counted amount of people knows it, and with raised eyebrow and still angry face, “I will sleep in my bedchamber for two weeks. At least,” he rises from the bed gracefully, hugging himself supporting the thin material around his body, which confirms Eddie's theory that he is undressed, but Buck turns from him fast, straightening up to his full impressive height and pushing his chest forward, looking at the roses Eddie’s sure he bought yesterday to his bedchamber for put the smile on the face of his Lord before the blissful night he was promised and had. 

“You can go do as you promised and talk about Miss Flores with Lord Nash, my King,” Buck, still not turning to him, waves his hand towards the door.  “The fast you send this … woman from the castle the faster I will be in your embrace again.”

“And what if I do it today?” Eddie makes the little move trying to be closer to the Lord and with a smile noting Buck does not move.

“If Miss Flores would be out of the castle today then,” Buck turns to him, lowering his hands and letting the fabric that covered him gently descend over his body to the floor. 

King can just swallow the salvina, looking at the body, which still makes him crazy like the first time he saw it under him, and all the marks he left yesterday playing in the light of the sun makes him desire to leave more.Or at least has a chance to trace then with his fingers and lips. “Then you will have to do anything you want with me, my King. Anything,” Buck slyly smiles, almost moaning the last three words and again turning away from him. 

“Now leave me alone, Your Majesty. I want to have my midday bath and relax after my mood was crashed when I was planning to ride you good morning in the throne room after breakfast with your parents to make your day better,” Eddie curses the man who took away this opportunity from him, somehow upsetting his lover. perhaps Eddie should think about executing them so that Buck doesn't resent him anymore.

“At least tell me who crushed it so hard, my soul, and why you want Miss Flores out of the castle,” Eddie stretches out his hand to touch the skin as gorgeous as the roses that Buck admires and even better, but he doesn’t manage to do it when his lover moves away from the touch.

“This … woman did it,” Buck hisses. “I was going to the throne room when I overhead her gossip with other maids about how you complemented her skills as teacher and said how Chris liked her, and she thinks she found the way to be the queen one day,” Buck spits out all these words like poison, and Eddie wants to laugh at his lover's dramatism, when blue-eyed crosses his arms not even a little bit being ashamed of his nudity in front of him. In fact Eddie knows the power Buck has over him being naked but not allowing him to touch, makes his Lord feel better. 

However, he knows better than to do it. Too deep feelings are touched in the heart of the Lord when he thinks that he can lose his king and the prince whom he loves like his son. Eddie knows this because Buck has cried on his chest more than once, afraid that Eddie might leave him. As if it were possible, as if his heart wasn't beating solely because Lord Buckley was his.

And even if he would laugh only about positiveness in the blood of the Lord then he would be just hypocritical, because it is him who once almost executed Lady Kelly for flirting with his Lord.

“You have a meeting soon, my King. Go and work. I want to be alone,” Buck slams his bathroom door in his face.

“I’ll send this woman out of the castle today,” he has only “hmm” as answer on this knowing too well his lover will be in the mood again only after a good bath, nap, food and when Miss Flores would be not even close to him. And perhaps a new suit and jewelry is not a bad idea either.

Hence Eddie orders to make him meeting with Lord Nash and Miss Flores later today and to bring all of the Lord's favorite dishes to his bedchamber immediately. And send tailor to Lord, then pick the best flowers from the garden and send as many bouquets as soon as possible so all the Lord’s bedchamber are drowned in flowers. And also send a jeweler to him. He needs to make a new ring for his lover to make him remember it’s only him in King’s thoughts. Perhaps a new necklace too.

tagging no pressure @daffi-990 @the-likesofus @thewolvesof1998 @transbuck @theotherbuckley @wikiangela @hippolotamus @heartshapedvows @honestlydarkprincess @housewifebuck @eddiebabygirldiaz @eddiediaztho @elvensorceress @rogerzsteven @spaceprincessem @spotsandsocks @ladydorian05 @fortheloveofbuddie @gayarthur @rainbow-nerdss @watchyourbuck @diazblunt @pirrusstuff @jeeyuns @jesuisici33 @jobairdxx @giddyupbuck @911onabc @forthewolves @lover-of-mine @fatedking @devirnis @transboybuckley @loserdiaz @wildlife4life @bigfootsmom @ebdaydreamer @monsterrae1 @buddierights

[yakuly]

Desaparecer | B. CH

Pairing: IdolBangChan x NonIdolreader (mainly neutral gender, but reader has a female body)

Words: 1.3017 (sorry)

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex (please stay safe people), marking (both), oral (reader receive) Chan slightly soft Dom but he's also a little shit at the beginning, slight overestimulation (reader receive), and they are both a little insecure at the end of it.

This work it was requested!

A/n: first of all, I'm kinda impressed with myself for the good warning tags (yay), second of all I hope the anon that request like It, and who reads it too. I loved to write it, and got even more better than what I planned. And also it's been a while since I wrote a smut, so please be honest with it (but not mean tho), and I haven't proof readedz so who knows. That's for the attention, and food reading!

(the gift isn't mine, credit to the beloved soul who made it! ❣️)

💌: @marcillfll

For many days you wondered if it what are you doing? You have a really good life, a very stable routine, finding happiness in little details... But is your boyfriend actually part of it?

It should be, right? He is your boyfriend afterall! You should be happy with his company, his words, his presence, your special days, your regular days that turned into something special because of him... Except Christopher Bang it isn't a regular guy with a regular position, that can provide you all of that.

He's a international Korean Idol, and more importantly a very needed base to his group "Stray kids". Sonic it's hard to have a very knowing boyfriend, that has a lot of responsibilitys, add the fact that you need to keep your relationship a secret.

So that perfect relationship you dreamed for years, it isn't actually like you dreamed of...

Well you got really lucky with Chris! He's a very sensitive, romantic, attentive, sweet boyfriend; he is also really reliable about anything and everything, and you can't lie, he's a ver ver good looking boy. But sometimes you just can't get away with the feeling that you don't actually have him.

Something that Bang Chan is actually pretty aware of it. That's why he decided to plan a weekend only, giving the both of you hours of moments alone together.

You didn't actually knew what he was planning on, but once, in a very boring and slow Friday, you recieved a text from him, saying that you should pack some stuffs for a weekend a way, you knew you couldn't be disappointed.

...

"Morning my love!" Chris voice being the first one you listen on a Saturday morning, it was a hell of an indication you would have a really good day.

You were finishing getting ready with for meeting him in only a couple of minutes, until you hear his voice coming from your living room. Running after him, you can't help but jumping on his embrace, giggling just like he did when he saw your figure.

"Missed you" you mumble on his neck, ticking slightly, but Christopher couldn't care less. He hugged your body closer to his, both of you selling each other's perfume. "Missed you too my love"

"Where are we going?" You asked finally taking your head out of his neck to look at his gorgeous features, and like that you catched his eyes shining bright, and you felt the warm of his love through it.

Bang Chan smiled, one of his childish smiles, that you slightly mirror it. The boy Negou com a cabeça shaked his hands before saying "Sorry love, confidential information" and laughed at your whining about it.

...

You had no idea where Chan was taking you, but you knew it was very far, since when more trees started to appear, he loses his face mask and cap, keeping only his sun glasses, making him even more beautiful.

"The view it's on the other side, y'know?" The boy jokes, but you hold his hands and simply say: "really? I don't think it could compare to what I'm seeing" and those words made the boy blush and giggle, and God, how you missed this sound!

Trying to take away the attention, he turn on the volume of the radio, and laying his hands on your thighs squeezing it a little bit. And you can't control those goosebumps that spread your skin at it, so you tried to play it cool, and got your phone in hands.

"Chanie, not to be that person, but you know we are getting without phone signal, right?" you didn't really care much about it, but as a leader, composer and producer, Bang Chan basically needed that like air.

"I know" he simply said, quickly looking at you and smiling "it's for to turn the phone off, so no one can bothers us" Christopher than holded you hand on his lips, where he kissed "we're going to... desaparecer"

...

The place your boyfriend booked it was really nice. It was a simple regular house, but it had a nice view of trees, the sky pretty clear, and the moon shining very bright and perfect.

"What we should do first?" You ask feeling his arms sneaking around your waist, and that alone makes your heart beat hard and fast. Chan begins to trails soft kisses on your neck, and you shivers under his touch.

"Huuum how about..." he starts speaking still trailing kisses that makes the air leave your lungs, and close your eyes, feeling very conscious about his body pressed against yours. "...you going to the room, take a nice shower, dress fancy, and come down here so I can give you a amazing date night?"

You smile turning around on his embrace. Holding his face in your hand, you caress his cheek, taking in the whole bang Chan you have in your arms. Your eyes wander his face until reach his voluptuous lips, and slowly you get your face closer to his, seeing the boy you now holding do the same, closing his eyes after staring at your lips. He can already feel the taste of your gloss on him...

"Okay" your voice make him open his eyes, only to find you already leaving him alone. Chan needs some seconds to understand and recover, letting out a snort, but laughing along.

...

You took a very calm and relaxing shower, took your very precious time to get ready, and choosing a very sexy clothe you had. Specially black, Chan's favorite color.

"Can I go now?" You open the room's door and asks loud so your boyfriend can hear you. Finally you recieved a positive response and went after him. "What you have for me?" You ask when you see him on his back.

Christopher turn around and stop. You saw his mouth form a perfect 'o', and him starting to mumbling trying to say something. And Bang Chan, feel the whole world stop once his eyes met your figure, sou gorgeous in front of him... He knew he had to say something, that's why he tried, but his brain couldn't work properly.

"Uh... Love, are you by any chance... Hum hungry?" The boy asks, still looking up and down. You smile, deciding to tease him just a little bit more, then pretending to think a little longer.

"Huuummm... I don't know, why?" Chris then slowly gets closer to you, staring at your eyes, making easy for you to realize how dark they were. And tiu can't help but already feel affected by him.

"Because my love..." He starts to speak, and everytime he gets closer, you take a step back, soon reaching the wall "I was going to give you a really nice and romantic dinner, but seeing you like this..." Chan smirks, and take his hands to your face. He holds by you chin, making you already loose your senses, and look at hia face, heart pounding in your chest "I can only think about taking this clothes out of you, and fuck the shit out of you." The way the man was holding you, and staring at you, and your knees get week, but Chan it's pretty fast, holding you, and smirking even more "you're going to scream my name so people on the other side of the town will hear you... Is that good for you my love?" He asks, and you obviously confirm nodding "words love"

"Yes chanie" it's all you can say, before his lips are on yours.

Christopher glue your body to his, pulling you closer, and only stabilizing you with his knees between your legs. As soon as his tongue get inside of your mouth, you let him dominate the kiss, and yourself. Bang Chan take his hands out of your face, to your hip, firmly pressing you against his thighs.

You are completely taken by him, letting your hand walk through him, but ending on his nape, griping slightly hard at his hair once he makes your hips move on top of him. You gasp at his lips, and Chan smiled. The boy have the audacity to pull apart, and stare at you, smiling like a devil.

"Let me look at you" he cooed, holding your face once again, and moving your hips against his muscle. You feel the electricity run your whole body, once the angle it was making his thigh reach your clit. "Fuck I missed that pretty face of yours"

Chan let a soft kiss on your mouth, before trailing kisses to your neck, and picking you up. He laid you down at the soft mat, hovering on top of you.

You could feel his lips everywhere. And then his tongue, and some bitting, and definitely a lot of marking...

"I'm going to fuck you" bang Chan begins to undress you, throwing them somewhere "no breaks. No pause" his voice was low, and made your whole body shake "I'm going to fuck you"

You had no idea that you were already naked in front of him, all you knew it was that Chan was leaving sweet kisses at your belly, then at your thighs...and he was painfully slow at it.

"Chan" you called for him, unsure of what to say. The boy looked at you smirking like the devil he is, but diving his face inside of you, making you call for him, but in a more urgent way "chan!"

When you heard people saying that rappers where good at giving oral, you didn't minded much about it, but you couldn't denied now that they were correct. Very correct.

"Fuck" he said hoarse voice slightly muffed by your body "you don't have any idea how much I missed your taste, love" it was all you heard before Chan dives in you, for real this time.

Christopher flicked his tongue on your clit, making you shiver and instinctively grab his hair, trying to gain some control over the man (but you knew better than that). You catch his dark eyes staring at you, when you feel him giving your pussy a long stripe, and you swear you can feel your soul leaving your body at the sight.

"Can you keep looking at me, beautiful?" Chan suddenly asks very nicely, and you on your week state, confirm with a nod. Chan maintain eye contact with you, and you almost can't notice his hands grabbing your thighs in a much stronger grip, only so he can comeback to his work on you.

Chan a man on a mission, moaning on you while his tongue work inside of you, taking away all the air in your lungs, making you squirm and weakly moan his names.

It felt so good. It always felt good, but your boyfriend made a promise to himself that today it was all about you. So he was planning on devour your body in many ways.

That's why when your body started to giving signs that you were about to cum, nada you started to say it yourself, all he did was raise his eyebrow indicating that he was okay with it, but never stopping his movements.

"Chan..." You called kinda as a warning, that the knot in your stomach it was about to release, but he holds you even closer and keep on eating you out. "God, Chan!" You called more desperate, your grip getting more strong on his hair, and he moan, diving impossibly more inside of you "Chan!" You definitely screamed, feeling your orgasm taking over all of your body.

With eyes closed all you wanted it was to let the feeling go, but Chan took a little more of his time with you, keeping his tongue working while holding your body trambelling on the floor.

"I love you" Christopher's voice slightly brought you back to reality. Your breathing it was uneven, so he made sure he's touch on you it was lightly and soft.

He kissed your legs, making his way to your torso, and face. And he's eyes met yours, and he chuckled while watching you coming back to reality. He was very soft, caressing your cheek, looking ver foundy at your face. Chan also gave you pecks, and kisses to your lips and face, making you giggle.

"welcome back, my love" Chan jokes, grabbing your hand and kissing your fingers. You weekly answers with a "hi" and the brightest smile for the night. "Are you okay?" He asks, softly touching every peace of your body he could reach "good, because I'm not done with you love"

And his lips were back to your body. Focusing on your breasts, one at time with his lips, leaking, kissing and bitting, you could feel the bruisings forming where he bit. And then he touched them. For only he starts to intercalate tongue and hands. He knew you and your body, and as he was right, you were ready for him once again.

"Can I?" You weekly asks for him, indicating his clothes. Chan brightly smiles and sits up with you, so you can undress him.

His jacket go out really fast, but his shirt goes out slowly, since you wanted to feel him too, unbuttoning you kiss his torso just like he did with yours, but being a little more carefull not to mark him.

"Love do you want to mark me up?" He asked smiling when you look at him with puppy eyes "can I?" After his approval your lips were everywhere on his skin, marking whenever you reached.

"Fuck love" he pantted at your willing "I'm sorry but I need to fuck you. Now" Chan growled laying you once again.

You felt his tip at your entrance, but before he got inside of you, he hover his body on top of yours, and kiss you. You feel all the love he feels for you, and then you feel all the cock he gives to you.

Chan filled you up. To the very brin.

"Chan please move" you request, lips still touching. He smiles and starts to move, slightly pulling back only to fastly thrust again inside of you.

Bang Chan started to pound inside of you like he could die if he didn't. Or like you were a goddess giving him the forbidden fruit.

All you could do it was moan, and grab his body against yours, nails digging into his back. You could do this all day everyday.

"Chan please don't stop" you begged once again, and he loved to listen to your voice so desperate for him. And fuck he wished he could record it.

"I can feel every peace of you, my love" he said in your ears, not needing much to feel your orgasm without any warning.

Your juices, moans, low grunts, your bodies... It was a very intense and delicious symphony for Chris ears. And for that he was losing himself inside of you.

Once he felt he couldn't hold any longer, Chan pulled off and realised his loads on your belly and breasts. Collapsing he fell besides you, but holding eye contact.

...

After that intense sex section you had at the leaving room, Chan helped you to clean it up, and prepare a relaxing bath witch he gladly joins you.

"Can I ask you something?" You now hoarse voice weakly speaks at the econof the bathroom. Your answer it was a hum and your boyfriend smuggling closer to you, head on your neck "why you suddenly decided to take this weekend off?"

"Humm..." the brunet hummed before answering, fingers playing with yours "I know that we don't get to have too much of a time for us, and I saw something that kinda scared me, so I decided that I was going to take care of us better. Starting today."

He's words cough you out of guard, and that made you look at him in the best way you could "can I ask what scared you?"

"Remember that night we went to grab some soju before heading home?" He recalled, and you decided to make fun of him, recalling that day "you ment that one that you decided to eat ice cream while full on masks to hide yourself?"

Chan's laugh filled the bathroom and you followed him, felling his arms embrace you even more "Yes, the bees one..." but tone for serious after that "I saw a happy couple that day. They were on the other side of the street, and they seem so happyz and they kept on hugging each other and..." you found a weird way to sit at the tub, and get in front of him, so you hold his face to stare at you, what apparently brought him back "and I got scared you want something like that... Something that I can't give to you..."

"Chanie" you tried to speak, but he interrupts you "and honestly I thought the best it was to..."

"Don't you dare finish that sentence!" You almost shout at his face. Chan it was indeed vulnerable, and you respected him for that, knowing how hard it is for him, even to this day to be more open with you, and so you also knew better than to keep repeating cliches, "Chanie, can you promise me one thing?" His eyes were curious over you "whenever you feel insecure over us, for anything, tell me. So we can workout okay?"

"That it's very brilliant my love" Chan smiles, kissing you "are you going to do the same?" The both of you came back to your position

"Sure, like you know" you start feeling him leaving random kisses on you "sometimes I think you're going to leave me for one of your exes, or someone that knows your lifestyle better"

Chan's fingers grasped your chin, making you look at him "well, they try to get into me, but it's you the one I'm planing to marry, my love".

[ritualofcirice]

Lucifer's Response (Letter One, a Lucifer x Reader)

🐑 ♡ Thank you so much Sycamore, my darling, for editing this! THANK YOU ♡🐑

You sent a love letter to Lucifer, and he responded.

Teen and Up Audiences, No Warnings, F/M, M/M, Other/M, Tag(s): Love Letters, Fluff, Awkwardness, Gift Giving, Emotional Baggage, Ambiguous Gender Reader, POV Second Person

This one is gifted to @jalicecookie! Thank you for supporting the series, it means the world to me to see people enjoying these ♡

Find it on ao3 ♡ WC: 719

Chapter 1

Letter One

When you wrote a letter to royalty, you expected to be royally disappointed. The expectation was that you would not receive anything back. Yet there you were holding a velvet drawstring pouch threaded with Lucifer’s sigil in gold.

Gold became your expectation too. Not only did the golden thread lace every seam, but it crawled from the pouch where it sat in a plaited bow to keep it sealed. Within it, you found a rectangular box that shared the same exuberant golden colour. The lid was held over the top with lace and a thin line of ribbon.

After sliding off the lace and lifting the lid, you were greeted with a scroll of parchment. Another lace slip held it in place with a seal to top it off. Careful not to break the wax, you slotted your nail beneath it and lifted. With a crackle, it peeled away from the lace which you pulled off the parchment.

You placed it to one side as you wanted to keep it, then you returned your attention to the letter.

Keeping a rolled scroll of paper open was difficult without it rolling back up on itself, so you ended up placing it down on your desk. A paperweight came in handy in pinning down one end. You used your hand to smooth down the other as you read.

‘To my Secret Admirer, I got your letter! That is the only way I would know your address to return one back, of course. Otherwise I wouldn’t. And now you know that I’m not some creepy stalker. Great! I’m so glad we’ve gotten that out of the way. Letters - you know I haven't sent one in ages? Yours was such a pleasant surprise that I ended up searching everywhere in the house to find my old writing kit. I got really worked up about it, so please tell me if this is too much. Is it too much? Since there wasn’t an envelope, I had to make a pouch instead. I'm flattered though, truly. And I'm sorry that it took me so long to get this to you. I wanted to make sure I said the right thing because it has been so long since I spoke to anyone in Hell. Usually I would avoid that. As you can tell. You wouldn't have sent your letter otherwise. But I wanted to let you know that I'm okay. Thank you for reaching out to me even though you don't know me. Or maybe you do! Maybe I have seen you. Maybe we haven't seen each other for a long time. I mean - I doubt that. I can tell, actually. You're not who came to mind, and that's okay. You're a wonderfully unique you! Rough around the edges if you're in Hell, but you’re polished enough that I can see the shine through the dirt. I don’t mean to sound rude. There is a reason Hell hasn’t seen me. Trust me when I say the are far, far too many more as well. Although, it isn’t appropriate for me to discuss in a letter to someone I haven’t gotten to know yet. Rest assured, none of those reasons are you. Truth be told, I’d like to know more about you if you're willing to share with me. I’m happy to answer any of your questions too! I have a question for you to get us started! I am not ignoring the fact that your letter was more romantically inclined. I hope so anyway. Not because I would jump at the first sign of any affection, I'm just curious. How could you call yourself my secret admirer when you haven't met me? I know that goes back to well have we - haven't we, I don't know. But I do know I haven't met anyone new in a long time, and those I do know would not keep it a secret. Nor do I recognise your address. My judgment tells me this isn't some sort of hoax either because why else would anyone send an anonymous letter to someone to check on how they are unless they genuinely did care. What if I'm not who you think I am? Why would you trouble yourself for someone who doesn't even know who you are? Yours sincerely, Lucifer M.’

♡ Letter two ♡