#nothing wrong with being able to roll with it

[larluce]

Ooooh, I love this!

Well, first I would justify WHY Merlin got pregnant. I know mpreg generally doesn't care about logic, but I personally prefer it when fics don't use the excuse "Merlin has magic" as the only explanation for being able to bare children.

So in my mind, the story would go like this: Arthur discovers Merlin's magic and they’ve been distanced from one another since then. Merlin still serves Arthur, but there's no banter between them anymore. For once Merlin acts like the perfect servant, just does as he's told and speaks when asked. And Arthur hates it.

Arthur is still hurting for the lies and the betrayal, but he also misses Merlin deeply. Arthur is so distraught, he ends up getting drunk in a tavern like he never did before and Merlin is the one who has to get him out of there. Due to this they have a heart to heart conversation. There are yells, there are tears and finally forgiveness. Their relationship begins to heal from then, slowly but surely.

Is in the process of healing when that night happens. They made it a rutine to speak alone at night in Arthur's chambers to talk things through, the good and the bad of the things Merlin has done. They always had a bit of wine to endure heavy conversations, but that night they drink a bit too much, so it happens. First a kiss, then 2 kisses, and then suddenly, their clothes are gone and they are making love. The next day, when they wake up naked next to each other in Arthur's bed, they decide to act like nothing happened.

What they didn't know, is that that night was a special one, when the planets aligned with the full moon. The druids from more than one comunnity were doing a ritual, praying to the goddess of fertility and to Emrys, the god of magic itself, that magic may be reborn in Camelot again and flourish.

And that’s how Merlin ended up pregnant with Arthur's baby.

So yes, when Merlin first tells Arthur, he doesn't react well due to that talk he had with his father about what happened to his mother, distrusting Merlin again, but also because they hadn't completely restore their relationship by that point.

Merlin is hurt that Arthur thinks he planned this, that Merlin tricked him into getting him pregnant. He doesn’t even know how it happened! But no matter what he says, Arthur doesn’t believe him.

Merlin thought they were making progress, but it seems he was wrong. His word, his loyalty to Arthur, everything he's done meant nothing to his prince after all. And this knowlegde destroys him.

So Merlin decides to do something drastic: abort. He prepares himself the potion to do it and with tears in his eyes he drinks it.

When Arthur goes to Gaius's chambers to look for Merlin after realising how cruel he had been for accussing Merlin of something so horrible, he finds the worst image he could have seen: Merlin lying on the floor, unconcious and with a growing stain of blood between his legs. Arthur loses it, picks Merlin up and calls for help, desperate. Gaius, fortunately, arrives in time and treats Merlin the best he can and stables him. When Gaius figures out what Merlin tried to do and tells Arthur, the prince can't feel more guilty and devasted.

Arthur: (tears rolling down his eyes, holding Merlin's hand while he lies still unconcious on bed) The baby... Is the baby...?

Gaius: Merlin may have wanted to abort, but his magic didn't. It protected the baby, so it's still alive, but...

Arthur: What?

Gaius: Now his pregnancy is more delicate than ever. Merlin will have to stay in bed and do minimal effort during all his pregnancy and...(his voice breaks) he might not survive childbirth.

Arthur: (breaks down crying)

Merlin: (opens his eyes weakly) Arthur.

Arthur: Merlin! (Leans and holds his hand more tightly)

Merlin: (smiles weakly) It’s okay, Arthur. I got rid of it. You won't have to worry about it anymore.

Arthur: (cries harder)

Arthur apologises over and over again and of course Merlin forgives him, because is Merlin, but the damage is done that's something Arthur will never forgive himself.

Time passes. Arthur visits Merlin everyday during his pregnancy and takes care of him. As Merlin's belly grows, so does his hapiness, but also his fear. He loves this baby with all his being already and the idea of being a father, but the possibility of losing Merlin during childbirth is terrifying. He can't lose Merlin. Is this how his father felt when his mother was pregnant with him?

Is when he compares himself to his father that Arthur realises he loves Merlin. He's been in love with his manservant this whole time. Arthur never felt more stupid.

Then. I don't know. I guess Uther would find out at some point and try to kill Merlin and "that evil creature" he has on his belly. And chaos would ensue.

I saw this meme and the first thing that came to my mind was that I need a fanfic based on this meme. Not just an casual Mpreg merthur story but one were Uther has an actual serious talk about dangers of magic with Arthur and as a example he tells the story of how he's mother got pregnant and died because of magic. He's warns Arthur so that he won't make a similar mistake of trusting magic just like in the meme AND then few weeks later he discovers that he got his manservant pregnant because of one time fucking they did when drunk and went to pretending they were just friends. Imagine the consequences omg.

Like Artur feeling betrayed by Merlin, realising he disappointed his father, Merlin being scared for his life, being accused of tricking Arthur and getting pregnant because of his evil sorcerer plan, hiding it from everyone, not knowing that he could actually get pregnant in the first place he is horrified.

I think it would be interesting if Arthur knew that Merlin has magic before it, fully trusting that he is a goodhearted person, keeping his secret safe. Then he has that talk with Uther and after that Merlin tell him about the pregnancy and Arthur's mind goes back to this talk. He 'realises' that he had been tricked by a sorcerer and Merlin beags him, swears this was an accident.

The potential for heavy angst is immaculate...

[gold-onthe-inside]

shape of you

who? spencer reid (s8/9) x blake!reader summary: when a terrible, horrible, no good day leaves you less that satisfied with your body t-minus 20 minutes before dinner with your boyfriend's friends and colleagues, it's up to spencer to cheer you up. content warnings: implied body dysmorphia/insecurities, weight and body type is ambiguous, spencer being the best boyfriend ever word count: 1.3k author's note: written by request for spring-fest. read more blake!reader here. divider courtesy of @/ saradika-graphics

It’s just one of those days where everything feels wrong, hyperaware of everything that doesn’t go to plan. Woke up an hour before you were supposed to, then having an unsatisfying extra hour of sleep where everything felt too warm. Burnt your tongue on coffee so you spend the rest of the day not really tasting anything, constantly aware of the abnormal numbness on the tip of your tongue. Bumped into a glass door twice during rounds, in front of your colleagues, juniors, and patients. And that was all before noon.

Your terrible mood carried to the end of the day, having tried three different dresses, wholly unsatisfied with all of them, and desperately going for the jumpsuit instead. But as you zip up the back, it doesn’t look right either. It feels like it’s hanging off of you rather than fitting you, and suddenly you can’t tell if it’s all in your head or if you really just look like a strangely shaped blob. You let out a sigh, considering giving up on the whole thing when your phone trilled on the counter beside the bathroom sink, a silly picture of Spencer with the cheesiest smile flashing on the screen and you picked up.

“Hey, so I might be like, 5 minutes late.” He never used ‘like’ as a filler word until he met you, mostly because he was too precise to need approximates or guesses, but precise is not a word you could use to describe the Metro system. “The train just randomly stopped past Union Station.” You could hear the fatigue in his voice, and slightly petulant frustration.

“It’s okay, take your time,” you replied, staring at yourself in the mirror. “It’s not like I’m getting ready anytime soon.”

“What do you mean?” Spencer asked and you could hear the confusion in his voice, and he heard the puff of breath that came from your lips.

“Nothing, just… Today’s just been a bad day,” you said lamely, moving to the bedroom and sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Oh,” Spencer said, his voice suddenly small. “You could’ve told me, I would have had Rossi reschedule.”

“No, it’s fine,” you said, flopping back onto your mattress. “It’s not every day you take down a whole trafficking ring.”

“They wouldn’t have minded,” Spencer replied, picking at the belt of his satchel. “Everyone’s exhausted. It’s just that noone’s about to turn down a free dinner.”

“Cheapskates,” you replied with a small giggle.

“Hey, not all of us get paid like you do,” he retorted, knowing you were probably rolling your eyes at him.

“What did you think you’d get paid working for the U.S. Government?” you scoffed.

“First of all, ouch. Second of all, someone has to work for the government, and if I wasn’t, then we would never have met.”

“So you’re saying our meeting trumps being able to pay for your own meal?” you asked, raising a brow.

“Pretty much. And then you wouldn’t be able to tell me about your no-good, terrible, horrible day.”

“It really isn’t that big a deal,” you said with a sigh, staring at the ceiling. “Just one of those days that confirms the existence of general adaptation syndrome.”

“Exhaustion phase, huh?” he asked and you smiled faintly, loving how he just understood you.

“Pretty much,” you murmured. “How far away are you?”

“Heading out of the station right now. Give me 3 minutes and 12 seconds. 9 if I don’t have to wait for traffic.”

“Look both ways before crossing,” you reminded him tiredly.

“That was one time,” he protested and you chuckled. “And in my defense, you’re very distracting.”

“You’re lucky that Subaru didn’t deck you,” you replied, smiling as you gently swung your feet. “Would’ve folded you up like a deck chair.”

“Aren’t girlfriends supposed to be nice?”

“Not this one,” and he can hear the cheek in your voice.

“Think I’m starting to miss the honeymoon period,” he said, and you can hear the jangle of his keys, the slightest loss of focus on your conversation, and you went and unlocked your front door for him before returning to the bedroom.

“Aren’t those meant to last like… a year at least?” you asked.

“Six months to 2 years, actually,” he answered. “In some cases, up to 2 and a half. Did you know honeymoons come from the tradition of marriage by capture? The groom would steal the bride and go into hiding so she wouldn’t be taken from him, and the intention was that she would be pregnant by the month’s end.”

“Well, that’s all kinds of wrong,” you murmured, staring at yourself in the mirror, and you can hear the door swing open so you hang up. “In here!” Your call is half-hearted, hand running over your stomach, willing it flatter.

“Do you think it’s okay if I just stick to a clean dress shirt?” he was asking, heading towards your voice, oblivious to the chaos in your head, only to find that you’d set out a suit for him. “You think of everything, don’t you?” he huffed with a smile, moving to hug you from behind and pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Figured you wouldn’t have time to pick one up,” you replied, your smile too faint for him to be convinced you were okay. His arms tightened around you.

“Why won’t you tell me what’s going on?” he asked, his voice impossibly soft and you rested your head against his chest.

“It just… I tried like… three different outfits and nothing fits right,” you murmured and he frowned.

“You look the same as you always do,” he said, running his hand comfortingly over your stomach, where your hand had rested, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. “Insanely pretty and out of my league.” The all-too-familiar huff escaped your nose and his brow furrowed again.

“Hey, none of that,” he countered, tugging your back against his chest. “You’re so pretty,” he murmured, gently kissing the crook of your neck, hair brushing your jaw, as he scraped his teeth against soft skin. “It doesn’t even matter what you wear, you know that? You could be coming home after a 12 hour shift, exhausted and sweaty and still look completely beautiful to me.”

He rested his chin against your temple, still hugging you. “And we can do whatever you want. We can eat takeout and ice cream in our pyjamas and watch your favourite movie. Or, we can finish getting ready and go spend time with people who care about a lot more than how you look.” He pressed another warm kiss to your temple. “Or you can keep trying on dresses and I’ll tell you how beautiful you look in all of them.”

You can’t help but grin at him, turning your head to kiss him properly, as he deserved. Long and sweet, pouring all your love into it. “You’re the best boyfriend, you know that?” you murmured, looking up at him, all adoring.

“I like being reminded,” he said simply, shrugging. “So, what do you want to do?”

You took a deep breath, looking at the pile of dresses on the corner of the bed. “I want you to pick one,” you said eventually, tucking hair out of your eyes, then watching with a smile as Spencer critically analysed each one before settling on a mauve bodycon dress, holding it up to you. Of course, he’d pick his favourite colour on you.

15 minutes later, you’re both horrendously late, Spencer behind the wheel of your car, using every moment of standstill traffic to look at you, caught between wanting to making a U-turn to take you straight home and wanting to show you off, even if it was just the team he was showing off to. He ended up choosing the latter, and all criticisms of tardiness were forgotten as the team warmly welcoming you, an extremely giddy Penelope gushing over how pretty you looked, JJ and Derek already making fun of Spencer’s possessive grip over your waist. All in all, it was a night spent well, Spencer’s adoring gaze more than making up for your terrible, horrible, no-good day.

comments and reblogs appreciated <3

[soelstress]

The Strength Of His Touch

Pairing: Steve Rogers x female!reader

Summary: Steve hesitates to touch you after seeing bruises he unknowingly caused.

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI , nsfw , slight alcohol consumption , sex/smut, p in v sex , unprotected sex , Sam being a good friend , Steve being a stubborn sweetheart , slight bruising from gripping a little too hard (he’s a Super Solider, he can’t help it)

Word count: 3.3k

A/N - Hello Lovelies! I seem to be on a Captain craze at the moment. Found myself wondering if either of the boys would worry about their strength… and this is what happens, especially since they can both be so stubborn.

The gif is sourced from Google

Do not Steal, Copy or Plagiarize any part of my work

Sunlight danced beyond your eyelids as it both warmed you and teased you with the thought of waking properly. A cool breeze tickled your skin while also refreshing some very familiar scents. The masculine scene of cologne, clean sweat and the faint musk of sex. Blood rushed to your face at the latter. The intoxicating mixture was something that you could barely believe you’d help to make. At your sleepy hum of contentment the arms that were wrapped around you began to drift along your body and traced patterns on your sun warmed skin. Hearing the gentle lub dub of a heart you nuzzled into a solidly heated chest which produced a smooth rumble.

You cracked one eye open to see a familiar pair of blue eyes blinking at you sleepily. His face still held the traces of slumber while sporting a mussed bed head hairstyle. “Good morning, beautiful.” The husky tone sent delicious shivers rolling through your body which replied before you could with a very distinct yowl. There was silence for a moment before his stomach then chipped in which caused him to start chuckling quietly. “Guess that’s the cue for some breakfast huh?” His attempt to move was hindered by you wrapping tightly around him.

“No.” The soft pleading whines only made him chuckle louder. “Wanna cuddle.”

“We can cuddle after breakfast.”

With a grumpy huff you quickly rolled away from him and tugged the sheet over your head. “Don’t wanna.” Your sleepiness was fading much to your annoyance. Was it so wrong to want to stay in that wonderful place between sleep and waking?

The bed dipped as he shifted onto his side towards you. “As much as Tony or Sam might argue, I don’t think Dum-E or Redwing are able to bring us breakfast so for now the task falls to us.” When the sheet was tugged away you squeaked in annoyance. “Now, let's-” A choked gasp ended his sentence.

The lingering haze of slumber quickly dissipated when you heard the sound. Confused, you rolled over to face him and opened your eyes. Gone was the languorous ease and sleepy expression. Now his eyes burned with something you didn’t recognise and his jaw was taut while his brows dipped with little ridges between. His silent behaviour sent you bouncing between worry and fear.

“What’s wrong baby?” Somehow the whisper forced itself past the lump that had formed in your throat.

“Can’t you tell?” The words were steeped in disbelief.

It took everything in you not to flinch at Steve’s tone. One that your boyfriend had never aimed at you and that had not been directed at you by anyone else for some time. Before you could spiral into worry you forced yourself to think over the events of the previous night when you had sex for the first time as a couple. Over and over you replayed every moment but could think of nothing obvious that might cause this kind of reaction. Anxiety bloomed through your body as you worried your lip.

His thumb smoothed over the agitated flesh and directed your attention to his eyes which you now recognised were angry and scared. “Talk to me sweetheart.”

“I can’t-”

“I just want to help. I swear I’m not mad.” When you blinked at him but didn’t say anything he moaned in worry. “Please, tell me where it hurts.”

Now you were beyond confused. Under his panicked gaze you stretched carefully and rotated your neck and shoulders before each tensing muscle area. A delicious ache in your core had you squirming slightly but other than that you felt fine. Heck better than fine. Your last full recollection of last night was melting into a boneless heap under Steve as he held you close. To go from that boneless heap to a sleepy daze and then receive this odd behaviour from the man who caused it all… your head hurt from the confusion which irritated you.

“What are you talking about? I’m fi-”

“Fine? How can you be fine?! Look at yourself!” He gestured towards the tops of your shoulders which you hadn��t actually looked at while stretching.

Oh.

Faint purple marks were dusted along the flesh and trailed down your arms slightly. Your head tilted in confusion as you prodded at one. It barely throbbed. Honestly you’d had worse bruises that appeared and disappeared just as quickly without knowing what caused them.

As your boyfriend briefly lined up his fingers to each bruise in a decidedly exaggerated manner to demonstrate that his grip had been the cause your mind once again raced through the prior night. When you were both about to reach your peaks you had requested he hold you and he had eagerly obliged by encasing you in his arms. At no point could you remember any discomfort or pain.

“I’m sorry sweetheart. I am so, so sorry.” The whisper was anguished. Your boyfriend had moved to the edge of the bed. His elbows rested on his knees as he hid his face in his hands. Restlessness rippled through his taut body.

As you felt him pull away both emotionally and physically you struggled with how to resolve this. Now that he had shown you the reason for his panic it was a little bit easier to understand where his mind was. But could he not remember the bliss of how you’d woken up or the pleasure you’d shared last night? Your mind ground to a halt by a horrible realisation. Maybe it hadn’t been shared. There was every chance that it had not been as pleasurable for him but he had carried on anyway. If that was the case it would absolutely explain his thought processes.

Quietly, you climbed off the bed and sank to your knees in front of him but he did not shift or give any indication that he’d noticed your movements. “Baby?” It came out as a rasp so you cleared your throat. “Baby, please.” Still no response. Well you were still going to talk. “Look, I know that you’d never mean to hurt me. It was an accident. But it’s fine. I’m fine. I thought you might have guessed that from how we woke up… and how things ended last night.” You bit your lip. “Or not. I know how it was for me but-”

Blue eyes met yours so suddenly you almost reared back in shock. But what made you hold your position was the fact his lashes were slightly darker and his eyes glistened. “Please tell me you’re not seriously suggesting that I didn’t enjoy last night?” When you avoided his eyes and instead locked your fingers together nervously he sighed and took each of your hands in one of his. “Sweetheart, look at me.” After he gently stroked his thumb along the back of your hand you met his warm gaze. “Last night was amazing. You were amazing. But it doesn’t change this” he murmured as he gestured towards the marks. “How can you say you’re fine?”

“You know what? You’re right, I’m not fine.” He ducked his head in shame. “I’m pissed that you’re killing the glow. Why can’t you believe me when I say I tell you how I’m feeling? You ask me to believe you that I’m not delicate in battle situations, how is this any different? It feels like you’re asking me to believe you but you don’t believe me.”

“It’s different when I’m the one who’s hurting you!” Steve’s fingers tugged through his hair in frustration. “I can’t- I won’t hurt you.” He stood and stalked out of the room leaving you feeling annoyed and hurt.

—————————————-

For the next few days, things changed drastically. Affection was limited. Before Steve constantly but absentmindedly touched you in some way almost instinctively. But now he froze when he reached out before adjusting his grip or hand placement.

“Still no change huh?” Sam eyed you over the cocktail pitcher that you were sipping from. He’d invited you out for a few drinks to catch up from the events you’d told him about.

You sighed and stabbed at the ice in the drink with your straw. “Nothing. Believe me it’s not for lack of trying. But I’ve noticed if he thinks I’ll spend the night at his he tries to tire me out by sparring or something so I just fall asleep.” You looked up at him feeling your lip wobble slightly as tears threatened your eye line. “Sam… I’ve even tried wearing things to bed. Sleep shifts, lace and silk and all of that. And he does nothing but smile and just cuddle.” You sighed heavily. “Maybe he’s just trying to find a way to break this off.”

Sam’s hand clasped yours and his brown eyes were lit with concern. “Don’t believe that for a second. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. He’d do anything for you. But he worries and gets in his own head. Man’s more stubborn than a mule.”

Rolling your eyes, you nodded in agreement. “I’ve gotten worse bruises.” At that, Akons ‘Smack That’ started playing over the speakers. You and Sam locked gazes before cackling with laughter. “Case in point.”

“Yeah yeah. Just remember we agreed to never speak of that.” Sam glared at you with mock anger. “I don’t need your Super Soldier boyfriend chasing me down because you made me spank you every time Akon said ‘smack that’.”

Giggling, you shoved him playfully. “I was drunk! Besides you said that no one could ‘smack that’ like you!”

“I was also drunk!” Both of you then eyed the remaining drinks and decided not to order anymore. “How did you explain that you couldn’t sit the next day anyway?”

“Said I fell.”

Sam nodded. “Just make sure you stick to that. Let’s finish this pitcher and call it a night.”

—————————————-

Slightly buzzed and happy, you entered your apartment to find Steve laying on the couch watching a new movie from his list. He looked up at your entry and paused the movie. “Hi honey.”

“Hi Stevie.” You hesitated before walking over to him. He sat up as you approached and smiled as you stroked his golden locks. He carefully wrapped his arms around you and took a moment to press his head to your tummy before pulling back.

“Did you have a nice time with Sam?”

You made a noise of agreement before placing a soft kiss to his forehead and stepped out of his embrace. “I’m gonna get ready for bed.” When you turned you missed the soft frown on Steve’s face. After wiping off your makeup and a quick shower you decided against the suggestive sleepwear. There were really only so many times you could offer with each little rejection having chipped away at you. Plus you didn’t want to douse the warmth of the buzz that Sam helped create. Instead you slipped on one of Steve’s t-shirts and crawled into bed.

Steve walked in shortly after having finished his movie. His heart melted at the sight of you cuddled up to his pillow. Quickly he stripped down to his boxers and joined you, pride swelling when he saw you were wearing his shirt. He was a little surprised, a little relieved and a little disappointed that you weren’t in one of those cute but tempting sleep sets. Though there was something about you wearing his clothes that tugged at his heartstrings. As he gently curved around your body you grumbled quietly before relaxing into his hold.

“Let me help you”

“Feels so good”

“Give it to me baby”

The sudden darkness and change in situation was jarring when you opened your eyes. Mere moments ago you had been hurtling towards the highest high under his burning gaze.

An incoherent mumble came from behind you.

Just a dream. You had imagined it. At the realisation you sniffled in disappointment.

“S’wrong baby?” When you didn’t answer Steve rolled over and reached to turn on his lamp before turning back to you where you were hiding your face in a pillow. “What is it?”

Your heart trembled at the concern in his voice. “Just a dream Steve. It’s fine.”

Steve huffed while arching a brow. “A dream that’s left you upset? Honey, that's not fine.” His warm hand brushed along your cheek as he encouraged you to roll onto your back. “Let me help you.”

His touch mixed with the words from your dream only brought back the ache that was plaguing your core with a vengeance. Leaning up you caught his mouth in a desperate kiss and your hands wrapped around his neck to keep him close to you. Steve’s brain froze for a second but you felt his resistance and tried to hold on even as he gently extracted himself despite your efforts. “Baby… no.”

Everything inside you screamed to move, to run away from the burning pain that came from his denial. It had been bad enough that the outfits hadn’t interested him but this was total rejection. You tried to squirm away from him but he pulled you against him, cradling your face as his blue eyes shone with pleas.

“I don’t want to hurt you baby.”

You already are. Steve’s sharp inhale and flinch of pain made you realise the words must have been said aloud. But you weren’t going to apologise. “You don’t touch me anymore Steve and if you do you’re adjusting your grip or where you put your hands. Is this all there is? You being scared to touch me and me wanting more?” A dam within you broke and tears began to spill.

Steve’s handsome face was torn with anguish as he watched. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he shook his head slowly.

“Steve.”

It might have been the tears that steadily trailed down your face or that he had never heard you say his name with such pain and need. But whatever it was had his resolve crumbling. His thumbs tenderly traced the tracks and swiped under your eyes before ghosting his lips against yours. At first you could not respond properly in fear that he would suddenly change his mind and you could not bear the pain of further rejection. Soft sounds of apology poured from Steve’s mouth as he lightly pressed kisses along your jaw and down your neck before returning to your mouth. One hand left your face and trailed down your side to your thigh before he hitched your leg over his hip. When your mouth parted in surprise he took advantage and with careful tenderness teased you with his tongue. He sighed happily when your tongue tentatively met his as you shifted slightly towards him. So caught up with Steve’s kisses and touches you suddenly weren’t sure how or where to touch him but before you could decide Steve lifted his hand that had been stroking your thigh and guided one of your hands to his hip before returning his back to your thigh. For a few moments you just let your hand drift up and down his side before cautiously squeezing the flesh and froze when a groan passed from his mouth to yours. Steve rolled so you straddled him. You broke the kiss in a bid for oxygen but Steve sat up and renewed his attention to your jaw and neck with kisses and soft sucks. As he reached that one spot below your ear you wriggled against him and felt his cock twitching through his boxers which were slowly dampening with your combined arousal. Reaching between your bodies you eagerly palmed his hard flesh which caused Steve to thrust up with a harsh grunt.

Something inside you snapped. No more games. You needed Steve. NOW. As you tugged the shirt over your head Steve raised his hips to shift his underwear far enough down to kick them off before you gripped his cock firmly and positioned him at your entrance. Steve’s head tipped back with a loud groan but his ocean eyes never left your face as you easily sank onto him thanks to gravity and how slick you’d become. He had felt big that first night but this position stretched you as he bottomed out deep with a pleasant burn. As you rolled your hips your clit brushed against the trimmed hair at the base of his cock and you whined at that first spark that soon turned into more as your movements quickened.

“That’s it baby” he murmured against the skin of your chest as his hands captured your face so he could watch you fall apart from just riding him. With a final roll you shattered into a trembling mess against him. For a few moments Steve watched your eyes become clouded with peace before they focused back on him. Your hands found his chest and pushed him back onto the mattress with a soft thump. Bracing your arms on him you leaned forward slightly and began to rise off him before sliding back down. Steve groaned at the wet heat sucking him in and he couldn’t help reacting when your breasts were so close to his face. He eagerly brushed his thumb over one while lapping and suckling at the other. A whine escaped him when you clenched from his actions. His hips flexed in retaliation and the tip of his cock nudged your g-spot. Both of you moaned at the sensation and he began to move in tandem with you as his hands moved to hold the bedsheets. The coil from before built faster and higher as you moved but wouldn’t snap even as your thighs began to burn from exertion.

You glanced down to see Steve’s face and chest flushed with pleasure as the sheets twisted in his white knuckled grip. “Stevie… please. Touch me.” The final thread of his restraint snapped as his hands found your hips and guided you as his thrusts quickened. “Oh my- Don’t stop Steve!”

Steve grunted as your walls pulsed around his throbbing cock in his determination to reach your release first. “No way sweetheart, not till you cum for me.” He planted his feet on the mattress and bucked up forcefully as you moaned loudly. “C’mon baby, cum on this cock. Cum for me now.”

Your cry of pleasure burst past your lips as your core spasmed around Steve’s cock but he kept moving and prolonging the pleasure. As you started to descend from your high he brought you down against him and held you tightly with one hand cupping the back of your neck while the other continued to squeeze your hip. He thrusted twice more before letting out a soft groan. You hummed contentedly feeling your core heat with his cum though his cock barely softened.

Soft kisses were dotted all over your face as Steve held you within the cage of his embrace. His soft blue eyes burned with devotion for you. “I’m sorry honey. Those bruises scared the hell out of me. I forget how strong I am and I feel like I can’t forget with you.”

You caught his face between your hands. “Steve, you’d never hurt me out of spite or carelessness. I’d tell you if you were hurting me. But I’d like to see how rough you can get. I kinda like it.” You blushed lightly.

“So I’ve heard.” You glanced up at him to see a grin tugging at his lips. “Do you care to tell me why you couldn’t bear to sit down on the same day Sam couldn’t touch anything with his right hand?”

[simpingforbots]

Big Scary Grandpa - part 5

“Little one!” panic building in his system from suden change, Megatron adjusted his grip, gently lulling you in between two of his servos, trying not to move little flesh form to much. One second you were alright, reactive, screaming and kicking, then the other second go completely limp. Light escaping opticks, he scanned small fleshy body for any injuries, letting an audible gasp of relief from his vents as it came up with nothing – no internal bleeding, no damadge to bones, no visible scaring or bruising, so why did you suddenly fainted - he had no idea, and it worried him a lot. Twirling small body in servos, he looked up, opticks focusing on small flickering light shining though the line of trees, a beacon of human civilization, some where you need to go, but if HE brings you to the camp, unconscious like you are now, it will surely spike some panic and will add even more bad reputation to his already dark picture. Gears shifting inside him, big bot let out his frustration in a huff, optick shifting rapidly, while trying to think as hard as he could, digits wrapping around small cushy body just a bit tighter, able to feel week pulse echoe though out...

Crickets orchestra echoed though the ranch as the huge moon shined gently upon the land. The cattle were in the barn, peacefully resting after day of grazing and watching kids get in to all sort of trouble, rolling in the mud and getting all the attention from them. Kids were sleeping as well, having a sort of sleep over in secret barn base, after having a late nigh fun, all knocked out and huddled together under blankets – Mo was nestled in arms of Nightshade, who was letting soft “who’s” as he recharged, resting on Jawbreaker, who was in his dyno form, laying on his stomach. Rob was wrapped in Thrash and Twists, who was curled around boy and Hashtag just sprawled in top of them, with data pad still in servo. Letting a soft chuckle, Dorothy Malto let out a happy sigh, observing their little happy family resting. Walking over, she fixed the blankets over them and left, turning lights off, walking out in cold air, taking in deep breath of fresh night air and walking in to her home. It was one of a few spare days when they had whole house to them self, mg that they can finally catch up on some alone time they wanted, and Alex already planned a few things as soon as he heard kids plan to have a sleepover in the barn. Opening the door, Dot can smell popcorn scent hanging in the air, along with some other scent and a loud pop of wine bottle being opened in the leaving room. Smiling, Dot took of her jacket she wore over her comfortable nightwear and walked in to the leaving room, with tv on and a  bowl of icecream on the table. One of a few days when they can dig in to secret stash of sweets without kids begging for their share, adding a little bit of amarula  and chocolate pudding. Plopping down on the sofa as Alex brought in two glasses of whine.

“I can safely assume kids are asleep?” he asked with a soft smile, leaning in to give his lovely wife a kiss on a head, plopping right by her and snuggling in, ready to enjoy their tv show. It might be a bit wrong to agree on, but it was really nice to have a break from the kids and their constant troublemaking attendances.

“Yep, they are finally asleep. And we have a home to us.” She smiled, scooping some cold treat on to the spoon “So, what episode we are on?”

“If I do remember correctly it was episode 10 session 3” picking up remote, Alex clicked a few buttons, setting it up to the right episode. The theme of the show played along and sweet couple settled in to watch their show... though it seemed like their peaceful time did not last for to long. Half way though the show a familiar sound of helicopter rung through the air. Letting a soft grunt out, Alex got up, helping his wife up, stopping their show and walked out, silently pondering as to what reason Megatron would be visiting them in such late hour. Walking out of the house, they braced them self as big bot descended on their lands in his alt form, moving incredibly slow. For a moment it reminded of the moment Dot saw him again after a long time, being dramatic and taking it slow. Yet, something deep inside her heart felt that something was wrong. Bot started transform, taking his sweet time to shift every peace of his metal in to right position, one by one, taking more humanoid form. He quickly reached for his chest and something visibly fell in to his palms. Kneeling down, Megatron froze for a moment, looking at Dot with a very familiar look.

“Megatron, what happened?” worry sipping in to her soul, Dot took a few carful steps forward, eyes narrowed on large servos, clearly cooped aorund something protectively, refusing to even pull away from his chest.

He knew well that it was late, he just really had no one else to go to in this situation. He still was not to sure that he wanted Prime to find out that he was secretly leaving base to see a human child, which will make this trouble even more problematic, so the only person he can think of going to is going to Dorothy, a very trusted person. Plus she was a human, so she will know what to do. Slowly lowering his hands, he glanced down at small body, that was still not responding to any thing: not when he transformed around them, not when he took them in to the air, not even now, just still, breathing and not awake. Once the body was at Dot’s eye sight level, her eyes grew wide with shock rushing over with a bit of a limp, focused on the child completely.

“I need your help Dot” he spoke with worry and care, letting human touch little archivist...

Stirring awake, you turned in your sleeping bag, letting out angry grumbles as you pulled covering over your head. For the first time in weeks you managed to find a soft spot in your sleeping sack, your body melting in to soft padding and hotel pillows, letting a sigh feeling soft fur of teddy bear, nuzzling in to it, letting out a wide yawn. You can hear birds chirping loudly with light annoyingly shining in to your eyes even though you had a blanket over your head. Though one noise confused you just for a moment, enough to forse you to open your eyes. You knew for sure that forest did not had any cows, so how come you can hear them. Still with blurry vision, spinny head and half asleep state, you set up, feeling your self almost loosing fight to blanket, looking around, trying to get out. It took some time but ass soon as your eyes adjusted you realised one thing after another: for once you were not in a sleeping bag in your tent, you were in some kids room, evident by all the toys, pink bedding and other things that clearly made it seem like a child’s room. Slowly getting out of the bed, you looked down, shame quickly heating up your cheek and you pulled the blanket over your self, panic now fully settling in. Adrenaline pumping through your blood, you lost control of your limbs and fell out of the bed with loud echoing thud. You are certain that this noise alerted someone as a set of footsteps echoed though the house, quickly approaching the room you were in. Being an “A+” student meant that you quickly learned how to differentiate footsteps and when thay are getting close, wrapping your self in blanket and shoving your self in to the corner, eyes wide and heart pounding like crazy in your chest, deafening you. The door slowly creaked open and a dark skinned woman poked her head in, making sure you were decent before walking in. You relax a bit at sight of green uniform of forest ranger, but still were on guard.

“Morning kiddo, you look better. That was a nice way of letting us know you were awake” she let a small chuckled, placing clean clothes on the bed you just fell out of, as yours were gone as you are sure that falling out of tower watch in to tree made it dirty, you just were creeped out that they were missing. “How are you filling?”

“I am okay” you nodded softly, panic calming down just a bit “Where am I? Who are you?”

“You are okay, you are at my range. My name is Dorothy Malto.” She did not move from the other side of the bed, giving you a bit of space and time to relax. You looked down at clothes and then up at woman “Your clothes were not.. in best of conditions. Do you feel any pain any where? Falling from such high place surely left some marks on your body.”

“I feel.. okay...” you nodded softly, patting your self to feel anything. So far you were okay and honesty only thanks to miracle and Megatron that you were unharmed .”How did?”

“How about I tell you every thing at breakfast. I am sure you are hungry”

“Yeah. Thanks” you nodded again and watched woman leave, giving you some privacy as you looked down at new clothes.....

Taking in deep breath, Megatron opticks flickered to life, unfolding his arms from his chest and looking around. He was in secret base of little ones, who were more then ecstatic that he suddenly showed up for the late night – any sleep disappearing with in seconds, assaulting him with questions and asking for stories. Of course he complied, intertaining the youth with all kind of fairy-tails he could remember, all while wondering just what will happen to you. Now he was awake, young ones were out of the base, propably already having fun with Bee or meeting you. He secretly hopped that they didn’t, wishing to introduce you him self to they young once, knowing how some of them can get quite excited. Getting up with grunt, he carefully walked out of the base, making sure to be carful with his big frame, squinting as sun shined brightly in to his opticks, lifting his servo to block some light. He can hear kids laughing, cows mooing and birds chirping. After a second, he was able to see and spotted a group of younglings huddled around in far out corner, hiding under the tree, with a new small figure in between them. Letign a sigh, his hopes of introducing Little Archivist dwindle, but not to much. Even from here he can see that you seemed to feel a bit better then you did in the camp though, clearly engaging with others without looking like you were forced in to socialising. Any time your camp would have some kind of activities, you always tried to hang out in the corner, out of sight, trying not to interact with kids. And even during free time you will avoid same age kids like fire. But now he sees you more relaxed, engaging with others, even if you are trapped under Soft Ears, letting your little hand slide up and down the fur. Taking a deep breath, Megatron strated walking forward, already seeing a chain reaction from young once, Twitch face lighting up with a big grin and flying towards him, circling his head and then nuzzling in to his side. She was really affectionate for a small bot, and he liked her too. Especialy her energetic enthusiasm.

“Good morning little one” he greeted them softly, joining them in the small circle, with Terrance happily greeting him back, with one more additional voice in the mix, he knows MO and Robby are in school by now, menaing  there were only terrance and a new guest “I see you met a new friend?”

“Yeas, we did, and they are quite nice” Nightshade smiled, his cyan optick not moving even a bit, but he can still can gues that kid was happy to meet another “egghead” as human would say. And he just let them on, with all the kids soon talking about what ever was on their mind, making him feel a bit more content that all the kids were in one place, almost but he knew Rob and Mo were safe at school. Though one of the younglings were not as safe as they were. Still worried about Y/N passing out suddenly in his servo AFTER falling of a watchtower, that even he can tell was to dangerous to climb, let alone when he slammed in to it, yet he is sure that speaking about it with them in privet will be the best, so he just waited pationly, knowing well that Bee will show up soon to whisk kids away for another training integrated with a play. It’s seemed to be the only way to get younglings to enjoy training in this day and age. And like a clock, Bee shows up and take young Terrace to train, leaving him and little archivist alone. Clearing his throat, Megatron looked down at the small young human, who was looking up at him with doe like eyes, coking their head just a bit.

“So, mind telling me what you were doing on that watch tower?” And he can see colour drain immideatly drain out of their little face, eyes growing wide and darting around, brain visibly struggling for answers. It was hilarious that they panicked so quickly at such simple question, making him let a snort out. “So?”

You shrunk in your self, mentally wishing that little cattle did not fell asleep on you, wishing that you can try to say something that you needed to do something, that you needed to get back to the camp, but alas, you were stuck. You can feel warmth drain out of your body and back heating up, quickly glancing down to avoid eye contact with Megatron, who clearly was giving you a parent glare, squinting a bit as you made a eye contact for a second. You really had no idea what to tell him – first of all you already had enough of your parents dealing with your bullies, even if it did not help much thanks to school politicks and all, you really did not wanted to drag Megatron in to it, second of all if he will get involved you are sure that your bullying will get worse. Just talking to him made it bad, what will happen if he will show up for a “talk”. Sucking in breath, you scrambled in your head for an explanation that will save you and HIM a hustle: well first of all you are a teenager, right, and they are infamous for getting in trouble, so maybe if you pretend that you were “acting out” you can make him believe that you were just exploring something abandoned, and second of all it was not much of a lie. You always wanted to see and visit an abandoned building, so you decided to go with this. Yet one more glance at bot quickly made you rethink your life choices – the squint seemed to glow, red light digging in to your soul, you immideatly averted your gaze, pressing you lips in to thin line and pressing your head in to your shoulders, able to feel heat spreading through your back. Yep, no, you are not lying to big bot who’s hands can easily wrap around you. You hated to admit it, but that night, when he “kidnapped you”, it did leave some mental scars, giving you nightmares time to time and just how weak you are compared to cybertronian. An uncontrollable chill ran up your spine, you gave up on lie, gently stroking little cattle, who finally seemed to have enough of you, or he heard his mom calling him. You almost cried a bit as little comforting cattle got up, the warmth of living being leaving your lap and slowly trotting away to where ever they wished, leaving you alone with Megatron. He seemd to immideatly notise your discomfort, reaching for you and scooping up to hold up to his face, as you are sure that constantly looking down must hurt his neck. You tried not to move to much in his servo, to scared right now, like a child terrified of a parent who knows that their kid did something wrong.

“Well?” Megatron asked again, tilting his head to side, digits flexing behind small humans back “why were you up there, in the middle of the night?”

“I... I was asked to bring something from there” you replied with notes of shame, now truly seeing how ridiculous it was to risk your life for a toy, yet you had your reasons and maybe they were a bit childish. “I could not say no”

“And for what reason you could not say no? What would be the reason to put your fragile life in to danger?” his tone was calm yet you still can feel notes of anger and disappointment echoing though his voice. “If I were not there, you would’ve been badly hurt, for pits, I don’t even wish to think if you would even make it out a life” you shivered a bit as bot raised his voice, just a bit, not to much to get attention of other robots, but enough to make you shiver. Yep, you are hundred present in trouble now, folding in to your self, you looked away, not able to look in to his red optick, not because they were scary, but because you felt ashamed. “Well, why were you up there?”

“I.. I was forced to do it” you answered with a bit of shame, regretting that you are admitting your weakness, yet it also felt good. You did grew tiered of running to your parents for help, even if it what you supposed to do “I could not say not to it.... they had my Teddy bear”

“Teddy bear? Seriously?” Megatron stifled a chuckle as he coked an eyebrow at little life in his hand. They risked their being for a toy... such a childish act, but honestly, sort of adorable as they were still young and naive. “For a teddy bear?” a smile escaped him and he quickly looked away. This is not a laughing matter.

“Teddy was gift from my grandma! I couldn’t let Dupeng do anything to him!” you bursted out, able to see that Megatron is not taking it seriouse as much as he tries, slowly cracked in to quite chuckle “It’s not funny!”

Despite the disappointment and anger, seeing you get so riled up relay broke him, Megatron cracking in to laughter, shaking with chuckle. You had to grip on to his servo, clinging to life and not really wanting to fall again, even if from small height, still you had enough of falling for one day. When he managed to calm down, he jus let a heavy sigh and patted you on your head. Alright, this was a really stupid decision on your side that you went to such length just to keep a toy in good shape, a childish like behaviour for a young being.

“It’s not funny” you pouted, clinging to metal fingers wrapped around, really wanting to be back on ground. “It was a last gift from my grandma... and I can’t sleep without it” you confessed with red cheeks.

“You risked your life for a toy, little archivist. This is funny” Megatron chuckled, pocking their cheeks with his big digit, feeling soft flesh give in under him “Well at least you were lucky I was there.”

And safe. After a quick scolding, he let you down and join Terrance when they had a break, able to feel his spark relax and now seeing his little collection of kids safe and all gathered in one place. Maybe he can even somehow put you in to the same school as Rob and Mo, just to be more safe. And he is sure it will be easy as any parent will be happy to switch school if their kid went missing on one of the school trips.

Previous

[whetstonefires]

So the thing with the Matrix for me, right, was I could never get past the assertion that the motivation for keeping humans alive was as a power source.

That pinged as so so stupid, and was presented so late and half-heartedly, that I could not understand it as a sincere part of the premise. Like. We're told very dramatically and pretty early that the world was mostly destroyed by humans 'scourging the skies' to block off all solar radiation in the effort to shut down the solar powered robots, evidently forgetting that all life on Earth is solar-powered also. Too comedically dumb to be really tragic imo.

So to pivot from the premise 'there is no life on earth, other than human beings, because the sun is gone' to 'the humans were kept alive as batteries' is an impossibility for me. Our ludicrous mammalian bodies, incredibly inefficient engines entirely reliant on continuous indirect consumption of solar energy to even survive, were somehow yielding a net output? Not only that, but one superior to nuclear or geothermal???? Bullshit.

I mean. Bull. Shit. I cannot. We just underlined in the backstory how all life on earth relies on the sun! Because life is expensive just to maintain and requires constant external energy input! We get milk from cows by keeping them alive, but that's because they turn the grass energy into something easier for us to process; no such mechanism is proposed for humans consuming dead humans and somehow producing a form of energy more useful to the Machines than just waiting for the corpses to dry out and then burning them to run a goddamn boiler.

This makes the direct opposite of sense.

It had to be in-universe propaganda, right? Another layer of the deception? It couldn't be the real reason. It was too implausible. Which meant I was still waiting to find out why the machines were really bothering with humanity and the Matrix.

I would have accepted without quibble the revelation that humans have special psychic energy that the machines were harvesting; that's dumb but in a comfortable, comprehensible, and above all internally consistent sci-fi kind of way.

I would have been quite open to the idea that the machines relied on human consciousness for their own development to true sapience, and the Matrix was primarily an AI nursery with the enmeshed human brains providing complex inputs, that one's actually cool.

There are a lot of explanations out there aside from the dumb official one, or the Occam's Razor one where they were just keeping some humans alive out of sentimentality! I'm really not that picky!

So anyway I never managed to emotionally engage with the Matrix films well because I had this unresolved 'motives of primary antagonist??? cause of fundamental scenario??????' thing making most of the actual plot twist and drama feel kind of boring.

My sister maintains that this is something wrong with me, that I'm refusing to suspend my disbelief and engage correctly with the text, and this constitutes a hostile, bad-faith and therefore illegitimate reading.

(She hasn't actually said this last part and I'd respect her position more if she did, but this seems to be the broad thrust of her emotional position when she starts shouting.)

I maintain that if a central plank of your sci-fi premise relies on going 'fuck the basic principles of thermodynamics and biology this is a vibes-based system' you should be very careful to avoid invoking the relationship between basic thermodynamics and biology in your core worldbuilding.

[jackass-jones]

Yeah the mouthwash game is pretty good

[faithisland]

fuck man it's so fucking frustrating how I'd probably love to clean and organize if i were ablebodied (or even just didn't have my specific conditions but still the nd traits)

I just can't be moving my head around like crazy. walking while moving my arms, reaching my arms down and immediately up, lowering my head to the ground to reach something and then standing back up, having no momentary neck support at any time, those are the worst for me. I would do any task, honestly. I just feel so fucking trash every time I do these kinds of things. standing is excruciating, moving my arms while doing it literally affects my consciousness to the point where I lose track of what I'm doing (and not in the typical adhd way).

as long as I can stay stationary, particularly partially lounging, I am capable of rational, logical thought. I can think through long term consequences, remember the basic physics of the universe, generally function like I am not an alien to this dimension.

[ccsainzleclerc5516]

You’re My Baby Too

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Warnings: none

You'd think that the second pregnancy would be a breeze. You already know everything about how it goes, how to prepare, what to expect, but in your case, your second pregnancy was dreadful.

First trimester, horrible nausea, you spent half your time over the toilet with Lando holding your hair. Your baby boy was so much bigger than Isla it made your back hurt like crazy all the time, and the worst thing of all was that your baby boy didn't wanna come out.

You prayed you wouldn't give birth before Lando finished the season, so when the season ended you were relieved. But then your due date passed, and nothing happened. Then five days passed after your due date, nothing again. 10 days after your due date - the baby just doesn't wanna come out.

You were frustrated, exhausted, and tired of being pregnant. You just wanted to be able to see your feet again and be able to get up off the couch without Lando having to pull your hand.

"It's because you make such a good home for him he doesn't wanna come out, love." Lando tried to calm you down in a nice way, not even realizing that he irritated you with that because he's been saying that for the last 10 days and your nerves have become very thin hearing it.

"I swear, if you say that one more time.." You barked rolling your eyes at him while holding your still very pregnant belly.

"I'm sorry, I'll shut up.."

“Thank you.” You glared at him.

He didn't hold it against you for your brazen response because he understood that it had become too much for you. Lately, he's been walking on eggshells around you because everything has been annoying you, and he didn't want to be the one to contribute to that.

When the twelfth day passed since your due date, you realized that too much time had passed and you even started to worry a little that something was wrong. So Lando decided to take you to the hospital, where you very clearly told the doctor that you weren't leaving the place until you gave birth.

You thought that by some miracle, as soon as you stepped into the hospital, labor would start and you would just pop the baby out and everything would be over in less than two hours just like it was with Isla, but of course that wasn't the case with this baby.

"I think we have no other choice but to induce the labor." The doctor said.

"Okay, how long does it take?" You asked. "Is it like natural labor or?"

"Induced labor can last from a few hours to a few days, it depends. It's most often completed within 12 to 18 hours from the start of the procedure."

"Oh my God" You sighed in despair with tears in your eyes and Lando immediately squeezed your hand to offer you at least some comfort.

"Does it hurt more than a normal birth?" Lando was very concerned about how painful it would be for you. While you were giving birth to Isla, Lando was of course by your side, and even though it was much shorter and easier, he was still terribly shaken to see the pain you went through.

"I don't want to discourage you and scare you right from the start, but many women have said that induced labor is more painful."

And boy oh boy was it painful.

When they gave you the drip to induce contractions, that's when the real agony began. The drip makes contractions stronger and more frequent and you can't even begin to explain what you'd compare that pain to.

You were sweating.

Crying.

Gripping the sides of the bed and Lando's hand, which at one point you thought you were going to break.

You honestly felt like dying. What was supposed to be the most beautiful experience of your life was quickly turning into a nightmare.

Lando was heartbroken seeing you like this. He was putting cold compresses on you, hugging you, kissing you, comforting you, begging you to endure this.

"I'm so sorry baby, I wish I could go through this instead of you. I'm so sorry."

He didn't leave you for a second, except when you caught a 5-minute break from the contractions and managed to close your eyes for at least a moment and calm down. Lando said he had to go to the bathroom.

He lied actually. Instead he went to the hallway outside your room where his parents were patiently waiting. By the look on his face, Cisca and Adam could see that Lando was not well and that he himself was traumatized.

Lando didn't say anything, he just hugged Cisca and buried his face in her neck, soaking her shoulder with tears.

"I'm so fucking scared for her. It wasn't like this the first time." Lando cried quietly.

"Oh honey, y/n's going to be alright, I promise you. I know it doesn't seem like it right now, but soon this will pass and you'll be going home with your baby." Cisca comforted trying to lift his spirits. "Honey, you need to get yourself together, alright? She needs you right now and you need to be there for her."

When labor finally began after 14 long hours, you were running out of strength. You were so exhausted that you weren't sure if you would be able to push the baby out.

"Push y/n, push!" The doctor encouraged.

"I c-can't" You cried breathing rapidly. "Lando, I can't do it.."

"Come on baby, you can, I know you can. Just a little bit more and it's done, I promise. You've got this" He was pushing your hair out of your face, holding your hand, and holding your leg at the same time.

"Come on, push, push! I can see the head!"

Finally, the baby's cry was heard and soon the baby boy was on your chest. As soon as you saw him, all the pain instantly vanished.

He was so perfect. So worth it.

Lando couldn't contain his emotions as he rested his head on your shoulder, carefully observing his baby.

Later that day, when everything had calmed down, Lando was still there by your side. He couldn't be separated from you nor did he want to. His gaze shifted between you and the baby watching you both sleep peacefully.

He was tired too. He didn't really remember the last time he slept, but he knew you had it worse than him anyway, so he didn't even think of complaining.

"Lan?"

"Hey, love" His face lit up when you opened your eyes. When he saw you smile, it brought energy back to him. He took your hand and pressed a kiss to it. "Did you get some rest?"

"I did, why didn't you?" You asked him when you saw the huge dark circles under his eyes and the same clothes from the day before yesterday. "Baby, please go home, I know you're exhausted too."

"The only way I'm getting out of here is with you two."

You didn't want to argue with him because you knew it was pointless. You were just grateful that he was there and that he was yours.

"My pretty, pretty girl. I'm so proud of you." Lando said softly caressing your cheek and looking into your tired eyes. "I love you so much you know that, right?"

"I know, I can feel it. I love you too, so much." You say before kissing him. "Where are our kids?"

"This little guy is sleeping here without a care in the world."

"And Isla? She didn't come with your parents?"

"No, I told them not to bring her because I knew you'd get too emotional if you saw her, and I wanted you to rest as much as possible."

"You should've told them to bring her, I really miss her and I can't wait for her to meet her brother." You said, but you could still see the worry in Lando's eyes. "I'm fine, Lan, I promise."

"We're done with the kids. Our family is complete now."

"Lan.." You chuckled.

"No, I'm serious. I never want to see you go through so much pain again. It's been so hard to watch you like that and not be able to do anything and I'm not putting you through it again. "

"It was worth it tho. Look at him, he's so perfect. I'd do it all over again for our baby"

"I know, I know, but you're my baby too." No matter how many children you have, his protective attitude towards you will never change.

"Oh, love.." You pulled his hand to get up from the chair and come sit on the bed next to you so you can cuddle up next to him.

"I can't wait to take you home, both of you." He said quietly kissing your forehead.

You rested your head on his chest, knowing that wherever you are, as long as he's there, everything is fine.

[ohnoitstbskyen]

Ok so I’ve had this question for a while and I feel like you’ll be able to give me a good answer. I understand that we’re absolutely not supposed to support anything JKR does monetarily and I never intend to do so. However is engaging with Harry Potter media *at all* also something I should not do or is it only things that give her money?

Like, would there be anything wrong with me playing Hogwarts Legacy if I pirated it? Is fanfiction and fan art ok to consume? Or is engaging with the IP at all going to be harmful in a way that I don’t see atm?

Thank you for your time!

I don't really think a cis person is the right person to ask about this, but I also know that trans people are sick to death of having to field these questions so I'll do my best to answer this, if everyone who reads my answer will promise me that you will NOT use anything I say in this post as an annoying argument against a trans person who has a different opinion on the matter. Remember whose opinions are actually important here.

And look, number one, you can do whatever the fuck you want. Nobody can stop you. If you, in yourself, in your soul, feel morally comfortable consuming Harry Potter by some convoluted method of Ethical Consumption™, then go and do that, and own it, and have the strength to be judged for your decisions.

Trans people might not trust you - hell, I'll probably not trust you either. They might get angry at you, and criticize you, or roll their eyes and call you a fucking loser. If you have the moral conviction that what you are doing is right, and that you are acting in accordance with your beliefs and you are not doing harm, then stand by that conviction and face the consequences. Have that strength of character.

But if you feel the need to go around posting and arguing that it's unfair, that you shouldn't be judged, that you should get to be a special exception and people are unreasonable when they get mad at you... then that is evidence, proof positive, that you are a fucking loser. That you are cowardly, and you don't actually believe that what you are doing is right, you just want the world to affirm your fragile ego while you enjoy your little treats.

To be clear, I am not accusing you of doing this (you seem to just earnestly be asking for guidance), but there's a hell of a lot of people who do do this, and you don't want to be one of them.

So that's number one. Do whatever the fuck you want, and face the consequences with a spine.

Number two is... just fucking drop it. That is my earnest advice to you. Just fucking drop Harry Potter. They are children's books from the early 2000s, they just are not that fucking good or important. The Hogwarts Legacy game is live service slop; the movies are passable at best and their quality comes from the actors being better than the source material. Just drop it. Harry Potter has nothing to offer that you can't get elsewhere from better media with better authors, or problematic authors who have good grace to at least be dead.

Don't waste your life thinking about complicated ways to circumvent the moral problem of JK Rowling's rancid transphobic hate-aura at the center of the franchise, don't waste your finite time on Earth trying to thread that stupid needle. Harry Potter isn't worth this. Rowling is old, and shriveling from hate and mold fumes, at the very least just wait for her to fucking die, and for her political project to fail, before you pick that world back up again.

I speak as someone who read the first book at age 11, hyperfixated on relating to Harry, and whose entire cultural life was consumed by the franchise for over a decade. It is not worth it. You don't need it, you don't need the stress of trying to navigate how or whether to engage with it ethically. You almost certainly have an enormous backlog of other books, games, movies and TV shows you've been meaning to get around to, so just go do that instead. I promise you it will be infinitely more rewarding, and infinitely less compromised by stress and guilt and cognitive dissonance.

And while you're at it, send some money to a trans charity and go scream invectives at a transphobic politician some time.

[ch-4-eri]

Slut — Abby Anderson.

Best friend!Abby X fem!Reader.

I need help, perhaps. Smut under the cut.

You and your best friend Abby were having a girls night of some sort, she often came by because her dorm is packed and she’d say it’s uncomfortable or whatever.

Accepting any excuse she had you’d allow her to stay over, sharing the bed with her almost every night.

You liked having her around, she was fun and your friendship was the most invasive one there is, at least in your own opinion, you both knew too much about each other.

But would never judge the other.

Especially with Abby being on top of you as you got so needy one night, her fingers pumping in and out of you, your moans echoing in the bedroom, you’d begged her to relieve the tension between your legs.

It’s always when you’re ovulating, it gets bad enough you’re humping every pillow, your fingers, but nothing was ever enough.

And as Abby came over that night, desperate for a place to sleep where it’s comfortable, you were too busy in your own head to just let this one go, her hands were perfect, you couldn’t stop looking at them as you were finally honest about your feelings, desperately wanting something to feed the hunger inside of you.

Abby fucking loved it, she’s always thought you were beautiful, sure she’s straight but it wouldn’t hurt to help a best friend out.

Her fingers deliciously massaged your g spot as you were seeing stars, your mouth hung open as moans escaped your throat without you trying to help it, it’s Abby after all. “Oh sweetheart..” Abby chuckled, allowing you to ride her fingers out, circling your needy hole with her thick fingers, your legs spread against your mattress.

Abby dragged multiple orgasms out of you that night, she refused to stop unless you wanted her to, she went all the way with your time of need, knowing you were too damn shy to go out on a date and get a guy to rearrange your guts, but allowing your girl best friend to do so.

You didn’t get enough, you still wanted so much more and Abby could never be able to say no to you, her mouth was enveloping your cunt as she ate you out, riding her face as her nose hit that one spot that had you screaming and cumming down on her tongue.

Still was not enough, Abby was surprised you could take so much. She always assumed you’d get tired from one go, but oh boy was she wrong.

You’d ride her thigh, her hands on your hips guiding you through the fifth orgasm for the night, your crying and whining was like music to her ears, surely best friends wouldn’t act this way but your friendship was else. And Abby is way too busy shoving her knee into your cunt as you rode her out once again to think about it, your moans were louder than ever.

“Jesus, bunny.. you fucking slut.” Abby mocked you, laughing into your neck breathlessly as your hips rolled once again to fuck into her thigh.

She grabbed the back of your neck to look into your eyes. “Can’t get enough huh? Makes me wish I had a dick so I can go all the way.” She mumbled, kissing the side of your neck as it turned you into a puddle of cum. “Abby..” you moaned, your cunt dragging up and down her toned thigh.

“Sit on my face huh?” Abby suggested, the thought of her tongue inside of you again was blinding and you nodded eagerly. “Yes please, oh god please.” You whined, your whimpers were turning her on so bad, she came twice just by pleasuring you.

Abby lied down on your bed, quickly crawling to sit on her face, the feeling of her nose was too good, you were a shuddering mess, finally feeling that sensitivity that would get you to stop and take a breath, but one last time, you needed this, needed her.

Her tongue was working wonders on your sensitive bundle of nerves, making your moans more strained, closing your thighs in on her head. “Fuck.. Abby..” you cried, rolling your hips to ride her face. “Fuck uh..” you moaned again as Abby flicked her tongue against your clit and it made you grab her hair and ride her face harder. Soft uh uh uh uh’s echoing in the bedroom.

Gushing all you had down Abby’s face, your cum dripping down her cheeks and her nose, as soon as you pulled away from her face Abby just laughed, mostly surprised her best friend was that much of a freak.

She knew certain stuff about you, but never like this, and getting proof? Abby was ecstatic, she’s never going to live this one down.

You finally caught your breath and looked at her next to you, she was wiping her face with her hands, licking what’s left off her lips. “Stop laughing.” You warned, closing your legs as the amount of friction was catching up in no time.

“My goodness you’re a freak!” Abby laughed some more, copying the way you were moaning as you smacked her arm. “Stop!”

“Who fucking knew! Bunny, I never imagined you’re that loud.” Abby laughed some more, standing up, fixing her trousers, she was definitely affected by this but oh how she loves teasing you, now she has a better reason.

You sat up on your elbow and huffed. “I was pent up okay?” You said defensively. “For a year?” Abby jokes, letting out another hearty laugh.

“Oh fuck you.” You say and smack her with a pillow, her face a little shiny from your cum, the reality of what just happened was making you a bit shy but again it was Abby, so much history and stuff worse than cumming on her face occurring.

She helped you clean up as you both laughed at what just happened, your friendship is indeed else.

[puke-ur-gutz]

what if i fr did it

[amortxt]

⠀ㅤ⠀ ⠀ ⓘ⠀ㅤ⠀n. kento. ⠀ㅤ⠀ ⠀mild angst &. fluff.

nanami kento loved his wife. he cherished her with his whole being, and soul. he would think of her all day, everyday. his brain memorized every inch and detail of her, and he never failed to remind her how much he loved each and every one of them.

or so he thought.

he was thoroughly disappointed to one day find her lips wobbling. eyes squinted at their best attempt not to let out tears. he could feel her heart, painfully thumping in her chest like a festering ache, a s if it were his own.

he had finished pampering himself in fine colognes merely minutes ago, ready for the date night they had been planning for weeks, and you had been enthusiastic for it considering how busy you both had been.

but now as the night had come, he found your shared closet near raided, the dress you had originally picked (and been very excited about) nowhere in sight. but the image of you, standing in the mirror, staring at your body in distaste he couldn't find comprehensible.

"darling, what's wrong?"

hearing your lover voiced in such worry and care made your attempt at hiding your frustration much too difficult to hold in, and quickly, tears began to spill out.

your bum plopped onto your bed like gravity had just shoved you down, you felt absolutely defeated and more so now that your husband had to watch you ugly sob over something as stupid as this.

"never. say that again."

oh.. had you said that aloud..? there was a sudden shift in his voice from worried and caring to equally concerned and heartache.

"i feel awful. i look awful, kento. nothing fits, nothings working."

your eyes burnt holes into your stomach as you gripped your belly rolls. his thumb softly caressed your face and wiped the tears from your eyes away, his other arm draping around you and pulling your back to his chest, close. you could hear his own heartbeat sound like it were ready to burst.

"sweetheart, i have no clue what or who it was that made you think this but they are absolutely lying. you are the most gorgeous woman i have ever seen and nothing will ever change that."

your cries came to a soft sniffle. he could feel your breathing steady a little, but he knew you were still hesitant, he watched you fiddle your fingers.

"how about this, go try it on. i'll give you my absolute honest opinion."

you wiped the remainder of your tears and nodded, heading off into your bathroom to go and try on the original black dress you had chosen for the date night. and you when you came out, kento swore he was in heaven.

you looked ethereal, satin tight around your curves but still flowing at the bottom of your legs. kento's gaze, filled with romantic lust was almost entirely enough to fill you brimmed with confidence, at least for the night.

"you had nothing to doubt my love. this is the body of beauty."

kento held you from behind in front of the mirror. his hands curled around your hips firmly. his eyes grazing over your body in adoration that you knew no other man would ever be able to offer. you looked at the mirror, and for the first time that night, your eyes didn't immediately divert to your belly.

⠀ㅤ⠀⠀©⠀all work written by ﹫amortxt. tdo not repost. ⠀ㅤ⠀⠀tagging @ummmitsnotken.

[whosmariaaa]

— part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7 !

college! sukuna had a problem.

a big problem.

ever since you put him in his place in front of everyone, sukuna has not been able to get you out of his mind. the sharp glare, the roll of your eyes he caught mid-argument. the way you weren’t afraid to face him. damn.

now, he was seated in the locker room after basketball practice. sukuna was silent, staring at nothing in particular.

“are you still hung up about that girl handing you your ass three days ago?” gojo teased, leaning into his line of vision annoyingly.

“he’s been thinking about it all day,” toji joined in.

“more like her all day,” gojo grinned. sukuna shot the two of his friends a warning glare. “shut the fuck up,” he scoffed, “i just don’t like getting disrespected is all.”

“you love getting disrespected, especially by a girl you wanna fuck,” toji shrugged. in response, sukuna picked up a basketball laying by his foot, and threw it at toji.

sukuna was undeniably pissed by his friend’s endless teasing, but they weren’t wrong. he couldn’t get you off his mind. and maybe that was irritating him even more. never had a girl ever lingered in his mind more than a few minutes, and you had been there for days. all because of a stupid argument. so, he might as well do something about it.

next day, you were unfortunately in the same class as sukuna. but, you kept to yourself, stayed unbothered and ignored his presence completely. but that was proving to be difficult when he kept tapping his foot against your chair, childishly throwing his pen at you, and making flirty remarks. overall, your eye has twitched more than once these past 15 minutes.

“you gonna ignore me now, y/n?” sukuna asked teasingly. “that’s rude as hell, y’know,” he added mindlessly. at this point, you were this close to grabbing your chair and sending it flying to his face. but you kept it in and turned around in your seat.

“so now you suddenly care about being rude?” you argued in annoyance.

“damn, you always this mean to guys?” he scrutinized. “what’d i even do to you, sweetheart?” sukuna added. you could almost feel a blood vessel pop.

“other than being an insufferable asshole?” you refuted with a frown.

a bit of a moment of silence, then, sukuna suddenly smirked.

“i think i like you,” he noted, albeit mockingly.

you furrowed your eyebrows, but let his comment slide. “well, i don’t like you,” you countered before turning around.

as you went back to focusing on what the professor was saying, sukuna stared at the back of your head in amusement. you had no idea what you just started.

──★˙🍓̟!! i hope you guys like it!! i was not expecting at ALL to get so many likes on my last post and so many sweet comments (i was actually giggling n kicking my feet i’m so flattered), tysm!🫶

[heeliopheelia]

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐅𝐅 𝐃𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓

genre: hurt/comfort, angst, fluff

word count: 4.3k

warnings: cursing, crying, neglect, tiny mention of bleeding

a/n: i think i win the contest of overusing commas with this one 🤍 tbh this fic is just yapping so pls deal with me... it's good to write some proper angst again tho, i missed it :(( hope you guys like it and don't find them too repetetive!!

masterlist

LEE HEESEUNG

It's been two weeks since you got the opportunity to take a proper look at Heeseung. And now as you do, you find it hard to recognize your fiancé who looks like he's about to collapse from exhaustion, to say the least. 

“I never asked you to mother me or worry about me so much. Stop getting into my business so much. I’m not a child, YN.”

It’s like he was blind to how hurt his words and actions were making you feel. It’s so unusual for him, so out of character and unfamiliar to you, that you can’t help but think that maybe it really is your fault for riling him up this much.

“I worry about you because I’m your fiancé and I love you, you jerk!” You scoff at his careless words and take a step back, the aching in your heart only increasing. “I only want to look after you because you clearly don't know how to do it yourself. I mean, look at yourself! You look as if you haven’t slept in a week and I know you haven’t been eating either. How can I not worry about you when all you do is neglect yourself?”

“Dunno, maybe find yourself something to keep you busy enough. You stay at home all day, do as much as nothing, no wonder you’re so damn nosy. I would be too with this much time on my hands.”

He’s so indifferent to everything you say, you try to recall where it all started going so wrong. All you did was ask whether he’s eaten at work or not, and now the two of you are snapping at each other as if you weren’t lovers, and trying not to hurt each other was a long forgotten thought by now. 

“If you’re so unhappy with our relationship – with me, maybe it’s best we take a break,” you say as you feel your throat tighten painfully. 

“Agreed. I never even wanted this marriage in the first place,” he scowls, silencing you, words rolling out of his mouth way quicker than his brain is able to process it. 

He bites his words back quickly when he watches your face dropping along with your shoulders, and fuck, you look as if you’ve given up on him right then and there. 

You walk away then, tears streaming down your face, muttering something about how ungrateful he was being, and all Heeseung could do was stand still as if plastered to the floor, in utter disbelief of his own, untrue, words.

After his cruel statement echoes through his head for the fourth time, he finally snaps out of the self pity and rushes after you to the kitchen where you’re leaned over the counter, head buried in your hands as you cry.

“Baby, I’m sorry,” he apologizes quickly. He walks up from behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, resting his forehead on your shoulder blade. “I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry for everything I said, sweetheart.”

He turns you around gently and feels his chest tighten at how fucking sad you look. He never wants to see you like this. He never wants to be the cause of this ever again.

And when he looks to the side, his throat closes and dries completely at the sight of your engagement ring laying on the counter right behind you. 

“Are you sure you didn’t mean it?” You ask, wiping the tears away with your hand pointlessly as another stream follows right after. “Things like that don’t come out of nowhere.”

“I didn’t, love, I swear I didn’t. I’m so fucking sorry,” he breathes out, pulling you closer to him by your neck again. 

Never again. Never fucking again. He keeps telling himself in his head as he lifts your hand to his lips and presses a kiss to your knuckles, just where your ring was supposed to be sitting snugly. Then he lowers it and places your palm against his chest, right above his heart, and covers your smaller hand with his.

That was too close to losing you, and himself, for that matter. Because he would never recover if you were gone from his life and all because of him. 

“Then why did you even say it?” You sob pitifully as you feel the warm tears dripping down the tip of your nose.

“I don’t know,” he shushes you gently, trying his best to not break you any further. 

You pull away once you feel calm enough, hands clutching his t-shirt. “It's not too late to call off the wedding, Seung,” you manage out breathily, raising your palm to cup his cheek. “I'd rather not take the step further than have you unhappy.”

“Darling, no.” Heeseung bends down to minimize the distance between the two of you and peppers your face with loving, warm kisses. He just wants to erase those atrocious thoughts out of your mind as quickly as possible. “Please, there's nothing I'd ever want more than to make you my wife. That was stupid of me to say. I'll never be happy if I'm not with you, my love.”

“I just don’t want to force this marriage on you. You need to want it as much as I do, otherwise it’s pointless.”

Heeseung almost chokes on air when he rushes out his answer even before you can properly finish your sentence. “I do want it. Please, you have to believe me.” 

“Really?”

Heeseung smiles at you softly as he wipes your wet cheeks with his thumbs. “Really. Scout’s honour.”

You breathe out, feeling relief, and look up at him with squinted, puffy eyes. “Sometimes I just wanna strangle you to death, Lee Heeseung.”

He chuckles lightly before pressing one last kiss to your cheek. “Aren't you just so adorable? You should add this to your wedding vows.”

“Maybe I’ll add this to your eulogy instead if you pull shit like that again.”

Heeseung clicks his tongue with a grin pulling on his lips. “Touché.”

PARK JAY

The atmosphere in the living room is so heavy that your chest starts to hurt. You’re standing barely two steps away from the man you love the most, yet you’ve never felt more far away from him than in this moment. 

His eyes – cold but still undoubtedly full of love, drill holes in the side of your head as you turn your face away from him to try and gather your thoughts.

Arguments with Jay were rare. You always tried to work things out immediately, keeping your heads cool. But something has broken over the last month and you can’t see each other eye to eye anymore. At the very beginning of your relationship you made a promise to never go to bed angry. To never leave things unresolved. Yet now Jay’s been sleeping on the couch for the past week, and you fail to understand what the fuck has happened to the two of you. 

And you can’t help but think that, maybe, sometimes love is just not enough. 

“You’re not even trying to find the middle ground anymore. All you do is snap at me the second I come home. I’m fucking tired of it! Would it hurt to give it a rest for a day?” 

The tension is almost palpable. You hate how you can’t seem to back away from any argument but only keep hurting him instead. 

“Put effort into our relationship first, then we’ll talk,” you spit out instead, against your better judgment.

“It’s funny coming from you who’s done nothing but put a fucking distance between us!”

“This doesn’t make any sense anymore, Jay. We need some time apart,” you finally speak into the dull silence, eyes casted downwards at the floor as your hand keeps twitching, only to finally grab for your ring finger and slip the silver band off of it. You didn’t think much of your action, hell, you didn’t even process it properly. 

Well, not until you hear the shaky exhale leave Jay’s lips. 

Silently, he presses his lips together and nods his head before turning on his heel and leaving the room. You listen intently to the shuffling, then ringing of the keys and eventually the door being shut. 

A moment of silence turns into minutes of you staring at the ring on your palm with tears burning your eyes mercilessly. 

With your heart falling low to your stomach, you drop down on the couch and tug on your hair slightly, cursing yourself for acting so mindlessly. 

You wallow in self pity in the dead quiet room. The shiny ring feels so heavy and burning in your clenched fist. You take in a deep breath, then quickly slide the band back onto your finger, feeling instantly shielded with it being on its righteous place again.

And just like that, you spend the next three hours on the verge of losing your sanity. With no word from Jay. He’s left your messages unread. He’s left your calls unanswered. 

You don’t know whether he’s okay or hurt or simply gone. All that combined is enough to leave you panicked and terrified, unable to have a second of peace. 

You never meant to take it this far. This – your words and rapid actions, that will forever remain as one of your biggest regrets. You don’t like the idea that you made your other half feel like you’ve taken him for granted. Or for what’s worse, like a person that you can use for unloading your frustration on. 

There’s this throbbing pain in your chest as you realize that maybe he’s not coming back because why would he if you can’t even love him properly?

Your fingers are bleeding from how hard you’ve been picking on your cuticles. 

And then you hear the jingle of keys and soon the front door opens quietly. You know that even after all of this he’s still being careful to not wake you up. It’s killing you how he thinks you’d ever be able to get a wink of sleep without knowing he’s safe. 

You’re quick to drop your phone on the couch and shoot up on your legs, rushing over to the door and throwing yourself on Jay’s neck. 

“I was so worried about you!” You gasp out, clinging onto your fiancé desperately as tears unknowingly make their way down your cheeks. “Please, don’t ever do that again!”

“Sorry, my phone died,” he replies after a second or two, bringing his arm up to wrap around your waist and keep you close to him. 

He’s still upset but he understands where you’re coming from, knowing well that if it was you instead of him he’d probably go insane from worry. 

He can feel your heart hammering against his chest, so he lifts his hand and strokes your hair to help you calm down. But then you start crying, feeling his gentle touch even after everything you said, that was enough to push you over the edge. You clench your trembling hands on his sweater as you burst out with choked sobs, slouching against his warm and comforting body. 

“I’m sorry, ‘m sorry, ‘m sorry,” you weep into his chest like a mantra and Jay can quite literally feel his heart cracking at your miserable state. 

“It’s okay,” he whispers, hot air hitting your ear before he presses a soft kiss to its tip. “Don’t cry anymore, honey. We’re okay.”

“I don’t deserve that. I don’t deserve you,” you whimper quietly. “Please, don’t leave me.”

“Don’t say that,” he scolds you with a frown. Your whimpers twist his guts even more than your harsh words from before. “It’s not the first nor the last time we’ll have an argument. It’s not worth losing your pretty head over it, okay?” 

“I’m sorry,” you repeat one last time. “I promise I'll never take it off again. I’ll never lash out on you like that ever again too.”

Jay grabs your hand and runs his thumb over the thin silver band, the same one he was picking so carefully for weeks, and a small smile tugs on the corners of his mouth. He hates how shameful you sound. 

He’ll never tell you how the sight of you pulling your ring off your finger made him physically sick to his stomach. He can't have you feeling even worse than you already do. So instead he brings you close to him and rests his forehead on yours. 

“I’m so stupid,” you whisper quietly as you close your eyes, your heavy eyelashes letting go of another few droplets of crystal tears which Jay’s lips soak up instantly. “I don’t know what I’d do if you actually left.”

“You know me better than to think I’d let us break it off over such a petty fight.” And, yes, you do. But your lip wobbles with silent agony at the sole thought of that. “Hey,” he tries again as he presses a loving kiss to your red nose. “I’m not leaving, okay? How could I ever?” 

“I love you.”

With his thumb caressing your burning cheek so tenderly, you feel at peace again.

“I love you too,” he replies without skipping a beat. “No one can handle you as well as I do. And no one sees me for me like you do. We complete each other. We belong together.”

He kisses you silly then, until there’s no more tears left in your body and you’re barely able to breathe anymore. He kisses you until your legs give in and he swoops you up to carry you into your shared bed for the first time in what seems like forever.

He kisses you until it engraves in your mind that there’s no other person for him in this world but you.

SIM JAKE

“Baby, I already apologized.” A groan lingers at the back of his throat but for his own sake he stifles it inside. “I don’t know what else you want me to do.”

You sit on the edge of your shared bed and clench your fingers on the silky duvet. “How about you start showing up to things we both agreed on attending to?”

He runs his hand down his face. “I know. It just slipped my mind, that’s all. You know how busy I’ve been this week.”

“This shouldn’t be my business only, though. I mean, for christ’s sake, it’s our wedding! I would really appreciate it if you participated in something for once!”

Flowers and cake. That’s literally all you’ve asked of him to go and pick with you for the wedding reception. Knowing his tight schedule, you picked the date carefully so that it wouldn’t meddle with his work and you could even go grab some dinner afterwards. But your plans all went out the window when he didn’t even bother showing up or giving you a heads up text, standing you up yet another time when it comes to your wedding preparations.

You’re honestly getting tired of it.

“I’ll be there next time,” he assures you quickly as he nervously taps his fingers on the doorway of your bedroom. 

“You said you wouldn’t do that,” your voice wavers as your shoulders drop with resignation. With the back of your hand, you wipe off the tears that made their way down your cheeks. “You promised to help, Jake. But you left me alone with everything, as usual.”

“It’s not even that big of a deal. This can be rescheduled any time. Baby, stop stressin’ so much.”

“But it is a big deal to me!” You cry out, palm reaching up to pinch the bridge of your nose. You breathe out heavily. “I don’t want to do everything by myself! We’re supposed to be in this together! If getting married means that I’m gonna be alone with all the responsibilities that you don’t consider important enough, I’m not even sure I still want it.”

To back up your words, your hand moves half-consciously to your ring finger and you twist the cool piece of jewelry in between your fingers. 

“No, no, no, no.” Jake moves quickly, nearly tripping over himself as he rushes towards you to desperately clasp your hand in his two and stop you from whatever the hell you were about to do. He drops to his knees in front of the bed, right at your feet. “Baby, you promised you’d never take it off.”

You’re at a loss of words as you look into his wide eyes, the seriousness of your actions only catching up to you now. You gasp quietly, eyes watering just like his, quickly relaxing your tensed hand in his and letting him slide the ring back down your finger, just where it belongs.

Silence envelopes the two of you, besides the sound of your sniffles. 

You feel awful. 

Jake feels even worse. 

Leaning forward, you press your face to his shoulder and melt instantly when he brings a hand to caress your hair. 

“I'm sorry,” you whisper, clenching your hand to feel the cool ring against your skin. “I don't know why I did that. I didn't mean to.”

“I know,” he soothes you just as softly. He stands up from the floor and carefully maneuvers the two of you so that you’re placed on his lap as he sits with his back against the headboard. “It's my fault. I'm sorry. I never meant to disregard your feelings like that.”

At the end of the day, both of you would rather set themselves ablaze than watch the other one hurting. 

You nod silently, heart pounding in your chest before you bring your arms up and throw them over his neck.

“I’m sorry I was so impulsive.”

“No. You did nothing wrong.” His soothing voice carries over the room, enveloping you with warmth. “I promise I'll be here whenever you want me to from now on. I don’t want you to feel neglected by me, especially now when you’re this stressed over the wedding. I won’t let you down, again.” 

“I just need a little help, that’s all,” you mumble tiredly into his skin.

“I know.” His warm lips press to your forehead lovingly. “I’m sorry for being an insensitive douche. It won’t happen again. I’ll take some days off next week, hm?”

The tears on your face dry slowly as your hold on him tightens. “I’d like that a lot.”

“Then it’s done. I'll be all yours and you’ll be all mine then,” he hums and noses at your cheek, finally bringing out a small giggle out of you. After all these years, he still melts at the sound. “I won’t let things get this out of hand again, YN. I promise.”

“Okay,” you whisper. Tilting your head up and bringing his down towards you, you join your lips in a kiss that you’ve been longing for for days. His movements are slow and careful as he tries to soak up as much of the moment as possible. 

His kisses slowly put your broken pieces back together. He never knew how much seeing you cry like this would hurt him. And he’ll make damn sure he won’t ever have to experience that again for as long as you're with him.

“If I have a life to spend, it'll only be with you, sweetheart,” he lowers his voice to match yours, cradling your cheek in the palm of his hand. “You're it for me. I'll never give you a chance to doubt that ever again.”

PARK SUNGHOON

“You’re never home! There’s always a hundred things more important to you than spending an hour of your time with me. Your fucking fiance! Are we really about to get married when you’re clearly so tired of me already?”

Your heart pounds in your chest as you finally voice out everything that’s been sitting on your chest for the past month. Things have not been working out well with the two of you, much to your despair. He’s been neglectful, always too busy to help you with anything – even the wedding related things that you should’ve gotten done weeks ago. 

And you know that he’s swamped with work and it's not his fault. You understand everything. But to ask him to spare you an hour or two of his day shouldn’t be too much. It shouldn’t make him snap at you unlike what he just did the second he came back home. You slowly begin to lose your hope.

“God, have you always been this needy? Why can’t you accept that I can’t always put you first? No matter how much I’d want to, sometimes I just can’t! Deal with this!”

“Fucking- Fine.”

Your hand moves quicker than your brain, and the next thing you know, your shiny ring is being pulled off your finger and resting in the palm of your other hand. 

You can see the disbelief flashing through his face briefly before it completely morphs into a scowl. 

“You really think that this will solve the problem?” He asks, eyebrows narrowed as he glowers at you from across the room. “Really? Does that ring mean so little to you that you go and throw it away with any minor inconvenience?” 

You try to blink away the frustrated tears, hand raking up to brush your hair away from your face. “No, fuck, I just- I don’t know what to do anymore, Sunghoon. I feel like I’m the only one in this relationship. I need you to give me something more because whatever you’re doing now is not enough for me.”

“Well, I’m putting out everything I have, YN! I love you! If that’s still not good enough for you, then maybe it’s not meant to be.”

The silence that falls in the room doesn’t last long as your sudden sob pierces Sunghoon’s ears quickly, making his stomach drop to the soles of his feet. His heart wrenches and twists as the anger simmers down and evaporates from his body within a second, and he’s quickly coming back to his senses at the sight of you breaking down right in front of him. 

“Can’t you just try?” You cry into your hands, shielding your face away from your fiance. “That’s all I’m asking of you. Is it really so hard to try?”

No, it’s not. Sunghoon knows it without a second of thinking. It’s not too hard to try, never if it’s for you. And his throat dries so quickly when he basks in the weight of his words that finally made you break as well. 

“You don’t know how much it hurts to feel like you’re too much for your partner,” you wail with a small voice, shoulders trembling and hands quickly getting damp with tears. “You’ll never know how it is to feel unwanted, because you’ll never have to when you're with me. Because I love you, asshole, but now I’m doubting if you’re saying it back just for the sake of it.”

With air getting stuck in his throat, Sunghoon looks at you wide-eyed before quickly crossing the living room and enveloping you in his arms. His warmth wraps around you in what you've always considered to be safety, but now it just makes you cry more. 

He finds it hard to breathe. The hesitation in your eyes feels like a stab to his chest.

“Of course I still love you,” he says, voice muffled by your hair. 

He hates how he made you feel the opposite. He hates how you’re right and he never had to worry about any reassurement of such kind from your side because you’re just that good to him. And his heart breaks with the realization of how much of a lousy partner he’s been to you when all you ever were was nothing less than perfect.

So he places his hand on the back of your head and presses you even closer to his shoulder as you cry, his own eyes burning with tears at the sound of your sobs and sniffles. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, my darling,” he apologizes with a heavy heart, fearful of what’s about to come next. “I didn’t mean to neglect you this much. I could say that I’m tired and the work has been a lot lately, but I know these excuses are not enough to make up for my actions.”

You’re mad and hurt, but you love him and would never want to give up on him, so you wrap your arms around his middle and hold him almost as tight as he holds you, burying your wet face in his chest. 

“I love you more than anything, YN.” He pulls away from you only to cup your face and make you look at him. His long fingers wipe away the tears with gentle touch, soothing your stinging skin instantly. “You could never be too much for me. I want all of you. I promise I’ll do better. I’ll love you better.”

And when you’re looking up at him with these shiny eyes of yours, he closes the distance and presses a loving kiss to your swollen lips, hoping to take at least some of the pain away. He doesn’t think he can hold you any tighter. He can’t love you any stronger than right now, and it messes with his head how easily he could’ve had it all ruined only minutes ago. 

He’ll never take your love for granted ever again. Because if he did, he’d never be able to pick up the parts of whatever was left of him, and put himself back together ever again. 

You can feel his warm hand opening your closed palm before he takes the ring you've been clutching so tightly and holds it in between his fingers. 

“Can I put it back on, baby? Please.”

You nod wordlessly while you try to tame your tears. You hold your slightly trembling hand up to him. He takes it, gently, and watches as your bottom lip wobbles while he slides the ring on your finger just like he did months ago. 

“I'll never screw up like that again. You have my word for it.”

You sniffle quietly when he kisses you right on the cool band adorning your skin. “You better not, Park Sunghoon.”

His long fingers caress your cheek, wiping the remains of the tears away. “Can you forgive me, darling?”

You don't need to think long of an answer. “You know I can never stay mad at you. Even if you're a idiot, I'll never stop loving you. You have my whole heart, Hoon. Please, don't ever make me regret trusting you with it.”

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[blueberrisdove-sideblog]

　ུᩧ　 THE OLDER THE BETTERRRR !

₊˚ෆ tws : dilf mydei x fem!reader. nsfw/smut, creampie, clit play, clit slapping, dumbification, pet-names, dacryphilia, boob obsessed mydei, overstimulation, size kink, mentions of reader drooling, age gap, degradation, man handling, aftercare, slight fluff, multiple of rounds, body worship and praise kink.

₊˚ෆ synopsis : You should’ve known better than to follow Mydei home. That deep voice, those sharp golden eyes, the smirk that spelled trouble—you were his before he even laid a hand on you. Now, you’re beneath him, wrecked and trembling as he fucks you open, every slow thrust leaving you dazed and drooling, lost in his teasing words and the pleasure he drags out of you. (Modern au)

₊˚ෆ note : not proof read. header is a doujinshi and you can find it on X/Twitter from : sakuranotomoru !! also I wrote this half asleep.

You should’ve known what you were getting into when you followed Mydei home.

The way he looked at you across the café table, the way his deep, smooth voice wrapped around his words like he already had you figured out—it was enough to make your mind hazy before he even laid a hand on you.

Now, you were here, stretched out on his bed, your body trembling beneath him. His hands, large and firm, roamed your skin with possessive ease, his golden eyes drinking in every inch of you.

“Such a pretty thing,” he murmured, his voice thick with amusement and something darker. “Didn’t think you’d be this sensitive. Just a little touch, and you’re already shaking.”

You whimpered, barely able to respond. Your thoughts had melted the moment Mydei had started touching you, his fingers expertly teasing your clit, slow and deliberate. His size alone overwhelmed you, his body covering yours completely as he loomed over you, his broad chest firm and warm against your skin.

“What's wrong, sweetheart?” he teased, dragging his fingers through your slick folds before pressing a thumb against your clit again, making you jolt. “Can’t even answer me? Is it too much?”

You tried to speak, but all that came out was a pathetic whimper. Your lips were parted, a thin string of drool trailing down your chin as your mind turned into nothing but static under his touch. Mydei clicked his tongue.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he chuckled, low and pleased, “You really are dumb for me, huh?”

You didn’t even care how embarrassing it was—you were dumb for him. Everything he did felt too good, too intense. His fingers were thicker than anyone’s you’d ever had, stretching you open with ease, pressing against the deepest parts of you. And he wasn’t even inside yet.

Your back arched as his thumb circled your clit again, this time with more pressure. The sensation sent a fresh wave of pleasure rolling through you, and you whined, grabbing at his wrist in desperation.

“Too much—” you gasped, legs trembling.

“Too much?” Mydei repeated, tilting his head. "You're already making such a mess, and I’ve barely even started."

He pressed a soft kiss against your cheek, deceptively sweet, before his other hand came up to wipe away the tear that had slipped down your face. His thumb smeared the wetness across your cheek, his eyes dark with satisfaction.

“Crying already? Thought you could handle this,” he cooed mockingly.

Your response was a choked sob, half-pleasure, half-overwhelmed, as he pressed his fingers deeper inside you, curling just right. You felt lightheaded, pleasure building too fast, too sharp.

“Mydei—” you gasped, your body tightening around him.

“Shhh,” he hushed, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “Let me take care of you, sweetheart. You don’t need to think. Just let me use this pretty little body, yeah?”

His words made your walls flutter around his fingers, and Mydei chuckled at how easy you were to read. “Oh? You like that? Being my dumb little thing, just here to feel good?”

You nodded weakly, your mind blanking out completely as another wave of pleasure crashed over you. Your body trembled under him, mouth falling open in a silent cry.

“That’s it,” Mydei murmured, his pace never slowing. “Cum for me, sweetheart. Show me how much you need me.”

Your release hit you hard, your body jerking, breath stuttering as the pleasure washed over you. But Mydei didn’t stop. His fingers kept moving, coaxing you through it, overstimulating you as you writhed beneath him.

“Too much,” you whimpered, eyes hazy with tears, legs twitching.

“I know, sweetheart,” he cooed, but there was no mercy in his voice. "But I’m not done with you yet.”

And as he finally pulled his fingers out, only to replace them with the thick press of his cock, you realized he meant it.

Your body felt like it was floating—weightless, boneless, completely wrecked—and Mydei had only just started.

His fingers left you empty, leaving a desperate ache behind. Your walls fluttered around nothing, your body still twitching from your last orgasm, and yet, when he pressed the thick head of his cock against your entrance, another needy whimper slipped from your lips.

“That’s a good girl,” Mydei murmured, his voice smooth, approving. He rolled his hips forward just enough to tease you, letting you feel the impossible stretch that was about to come. “Look at you. So fucked out already, and I haven’t even given you my cock yet.”

You could barely process his words, your brain foggy with pleasure, but the feeling of him pushing inside you was all-consuming. He was big—of course he was—and the stretch made your thighs tremble around his waist.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he groaned, his voice raspier now, roughened by restraint. “You’re squeezing me so tight. You’re gonna let me fit, aren’t you?”

You gasped, barely nodding, tears welling in your eyes again as he pushed deeper, filling you inch by inch. His cock stretched your pussy open so perfectly, so overwhelmingly, that for a moment, all you could do was clutch at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Mydei whispered, his lips grazing your temple. “Your pussy’s drooling all over me, sweetheart. You were made to take me.”

A broken moan escaped your lips. The feeling of him stretching you, of him owning the space inside you, made your mind slip further into the haze. You could feel yourself spiraling—thoughts slipping away, leaving nothing but the pleasure, nothing but him.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” Mydei praised, rolling his hips forward again, sinking deeper. “Give in. Don’t think, just feel.”

Your body obeyed him before your mind could even catch up. Every inch of you belonged to him now—every moan, every twitch, every tear that spilled down your cheek as he finally bottomed out inside you, his cock stretching you to your limit.

“There we go,” he groaned, his hands gripping your hips, keeping you steady. “So full now, huh? Look at you, stuffed so perfectly.”

Your head lolled to the side, drool slipping from the corner of your mouth, your body completely limp beneath him.

“Fuck, you’re so cute like this,” Mydei murmured, his thumb reaching up to wipe the wetness from your chin, his expression dark with satisfaction. “Already gone for me. Just a dumb little thing, huh?”

You whimpered, nodding weakly, and Mydei smirked.

“Good girl.”

And then he moved.

His first thrust was slow but deep, pulling almost all the way out before sliding back in, making you sob at the sheer intensity of it. His cock dragged along every sensitive spot inside you, the stretch making your walls clench down on him instinctively.

“Tch,” he clicked his tongue, voice filled with amusement and something darker—something possessive. “Squeezing me so tight, sweetheart. It’s like your body doesn’t want to let me go.”

Your only response was a choked sob, your walls fluttering around him as he dragged his cock out agonizingly slow before sinking back in, deeper this time, hitting a spot that made your vision blur.

“Oh, that’s the spot, isn’t it?” Mydei’s voice was velvety smooth, dripping with smug satisfaction. He kept his pace slow, teasing, letting you feel every inch of him as he stretched you open again and again. “You’re already cock-drunk, and I’ve barely even fucked you yet.”

You whined, the pleasure too much and not enough at the same time. Your nails dug into his shoulders, as if holding onto him would keep you grounded, but Mydei wasn’t letting you have control. No—he owned this moment, owned you, and he made sure you felt it.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he coaxed, his thumb brushing away the fresh tears rolling down your flushed cheeks. “Tell me how good it feels.”

“I—I—” Your words crumbled the second he snapped his hips forward, burying himself to the hilt, making you cry out. Your mind was blank, reduced to nothing but the feeling of him—his cock splitting you open, his weight pressing you into the mattress, the rough drag of his breath as he restrained himself from outright ruining you.

“Poor thing,” Mydei cooed, his tone mockingly sweet as he pulled out almost completely before slamming back in, his hips meeting yours with a sharp smack. “Too dumb to even talk now?”

Your back arched, a garbled whimper spilling from your lips as pleasure overtook you completely. You felt the wet heat of drool pooling at the corner of your mouth, your body limp and pliant beneath him.

Mydei’s golden eyes darkened as he took in the sight. “Look at you, sweetheart,” he murmured, voice thick with approval. His thumb swiped along your lower lip, collecting the slick before pushing it back into your mouth. “Such a mess. So fucking cute when you fall apart for me.”

The sound you made was desperate, wrecked, and Mydei groaned, his control snapping. His pace turned rougher, deeper, hungrier, his hips grinding against yours with each thrust. You felt everything—the stretch, the fullness, the way his cock nudged that perfect spot inside you over and over again, sending waves of heat flooding your veins.

“Mydei—!” His name broke from your lips in a sob as the coil in your stomach tightened, pleasure crashing over you so intensely that your whole body trembled.

“Good girl,” Mydei growled, feeling the way your walls clenched around him, your pussy pulsing as you came hard around his cock. But he didn’t stop. If anything, he sped up.

The overstimulation was immediate, your body shuddering as his fingers found your clit again, circling it with firm, calculated strokes. “One more, sweetheart. I know you can give me one more.”

You shook your head, gasping, tears spilling freely now. “Too—too much—”

Mydei leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear as he purred, “You can take it.” His voice was commanding, his pace relentless as he fucked you through the aftershocks, dragging out your pleasure until you were babbling, lost in it.

Your body tensed again, that unbearable heat coiling inside you too fast, too much, but Mydei didn’t let up.

“That’s it,” he groaned, his own voice strained, his grip tightening on your hips as his thrusts grew erratic. “Cum for me again, sweetheart. Give it to me.”

You had no choice but to obey. Your second orgasm ripped through you, even stronger than the first, leaving you sobbing in pleasure as your whole body shook beneath him. Your vision blurred, stars dancing behind your eyes, and you barely registered the deep, guttural groan Mydei let out as he finally spilled inside you, his cock pulsing with each wave of his release.

The room was filled with the sounds of heavy breathing, the lingering echoes of pleasure still humming between you. Mydei kept himself buried inside you for a moment, his hands smoothing over your trembling body, grounding you as you came back down from the high.

“Shhh,” he murmured, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your forehead. “You did so good for me, sweetheart.”

You barely had the energy to respond, your body spent, your mind hazy, but the warmth of Mydei’s embrace was enough to lull you into something soft, something safe.

And as he pulled you close, tucking you against his chest, one thing was clear—this wasn’t the last time.

You didn’t know how long you laid there, pressed against Mydei’s chest, your body still humming with the aftershocks of pleasure. Your skin was warm, oversensitive, and yet you didn’t want to move. His hands, broad and steady, traced slow, soothing circles along your back, grounding you in a way that made your heart ache.

He was still inside you, still sitting so perfectly against you, as if he belonged there. As if you belonged to him.

And maybe you did.

The thought sent a flicker of something nervous through your chest, something that made you hesitate before you spoke, voice hoarse from crying and moaning his name.

“You’re too old for me, Mydei.”

His body went still, just for a second. Then he chuckled, the deep, velvety sound vibrating through your bones. “Oh? That’s what you're thinking about now?”

You felt his smirk before you saw it, the way his lips brushed against your temple, the way his arms tightened around you, as if daring you to pull away.

“Yes,” you huffed, though it was hard to sound serious when your voice was so weak, so utterly spent from everything he’d done to you. “You are.”

Mydei tilted your chin up, making you meet his gaze. His golden eyes glowed in the dim light, sharp with amusement and something far more dangerous.

“Sweetheart,” he murmured, his thumb stroking over your kiss-swollen lips, “If I’m too old for you, why are you still lying here, all warm and satisfied in my arms?”

You opened your mouth, but no answer came—not when his fingers slid lower, trailing down your waist, over your hips, reminding you of just how easily he had wrecked you.

His smirk widened. “That’s what I thought.”

You should argue. You should remind him that the age gap was there, undeniable.

But the way he looked at you, the way his hands owned your body, the way he had just pulled you apart and put you back together again—how could you even deny it?

“…Shut up,” you mumbled, feeling your face heat up.

Mydei chuckled again, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your jaw, his lips trailing lower, teasing.

“Make me, sweetheart.”

And just like that, your exhaustion melted away.

Because you knew he wasn’t done with you yet.

And you knew—despite everything—you didn’t want him to be.

You barely had a moment to recover before Mydei moved again, his lips trailing down your jaw, then lower, ghosting over your collarbone with lazy intent. His hands, large and warm, smoothed over your waist before sliding up, cupping your breasts with an appreciative hum.

“You know,” he murmured, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your throat, “I’ve been holding back.”

You barely had time to process what he meant before he squeezed, his thumbs brushing over your sensitive nipples, making you whimper. Your whole body twitched, still sensitive from everything he had put you through, but that only seemed to amuse him.

“So fucking perfect,” Mydei groaned, his fingers kneading your soft flesh as his lips followed, trailing wet, hungry kisses down to your chest. “Could touch you for hours and never get tired of this.”

You whined, trying to squirm away, but he just tightened his grip, pressing you further into the bed.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he chuckled darkly, finally dragging his tongue over your nipple, flicking it before pulling it into his mouth. You gasped, back arching as the heat in your core sparked again, too fast, too soon.

“Too sensitive,” you whimpered, voice barely above a breath.

Mydei just smirked against your skin, pulling away with a wet pop before rolling his tongue over the swollen bud again, teasing. “You can handle it,” he murmured. “You were made to handle me.”

You shuddered as he switched to the other breast, giving it the same slow, thorough attention. His hands squeezed and kneaded, his mouth warm and wet, sucking bruises into the soft flesh, claiming you in a way that made your head spin.

“Fuck,” he growled, pulling back just enough to admire his work—the way your nipples were puffy and wet from his mouth, the way your chest rose and fell with every shaky breath. “So pretty when you’re like this. All needy and soft for me.”

You bit your lip, trying not to let another whimper slip, but Mydei wasn’t having it. His fingers pinched your nipples, rolling them between his fingers, making you gasp.

“There she is,” he cooed, pleased. “My pretty little thing.”

You felt lightheaded again, completely at his mercy, your body responding to his every touch like it belonged to him.

And judging by the way he looked at you, eyes dark with hunger as he leaned in to capture your lips in another deep, slow kiss—

You had a feeling he wasn’t letting you go anytime soon.

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[godmadeaterribleerror]

Louder Than Fear

Main Masterlist - Bucky Masterlist

Read on A03!

Tags: Bucky Barnes/Female Reader, smut (p in v, oral both receiving), light angst, sex pollen, no use of y/n

Summary/Warnings: Missions involving Hydra often go very wrong. This is different. This is worse. This is a strange bioweapon, nobody telling you exactly what's wrong, and staring at the ceiling as Bucky roars you name. It's echoing in your brain. And you love him.

So you have to fix this.

Author's Note: Sudden rush of Bucky content is doing nothing but feeding my preexisting addiction. Enjoy the result of that!

Word Count: 8.5k

It’s not technically babysitting duty. On paper it’s called monitoring and mediating. Ensuring agents do not get off track or engage in unprofessional actives.

On paper, you were supposed to be waiting in the car. But then Sam had started whining about being put on surveillance duty like he was a five-year-old, and you’d ended up walking them through the forest so he’d have company. Then Steve had pointed out that you’d be best at actually finding the target, and you’d ended up fifty feet underground in a Hydra bunker. 

And he’d been right, you would be, but that wasn’t supposed to be your job. 

You were supposed to be waiting in the car, monitoring and mediating. 

If they’d just let you wait in the car, everything might have been fine. Bucky wouldn’t be strapped to the jet seat with his eyes squeezed tight, Steve wouldn’t be standing between you for reasons you don’t really understand, and Sam wouldn’t be on strict say one word and get stabbed orders.

You shouldn’t have gone into the bunker. 

You shouldn’t have gotten distracted in the bunker.

“I just don’t see how this is a useful conversation-“

“You don’t need to see how it’s useful, Cap, you just need to accept that when it comes to pop culture, I’m always gonna be right-“

“But you’re starting from an advantage, it’s not a level playing field-“

Sam had laughed in your ear, and the sound was a little scratchy and static. “This isn’t a war, there doesn’t need to be a level playing field-“

“Well, once Bucky and I catch up on 21st century media-“

“Bucky isn’t catching up on shit, isn’t that right buddy-“

Steve had stopped in the middle of the hallway, and you’d almost slammed right into his back, stopped only by an impossibly strong, cool arm had wrapping around your waist and pulling you back right before the collision.

You’d leaned back to see Bucky still scanning around the dark hallway as he supported your body, he’d smelled so good, and it had been an effort to focus on Sam and Steve’s conversation.

“That’s rude, Sam-“

“I’m not insulting him.” You’d been able to picture the shit-eating grin on Sam’s face. “I’m just pointing out that the last time we tried to watch a movie, Bucky got mad at the CGI-“

“It was stupid.” Bucky had muttered, frowning at the air around him “Movies didn’t need to be doing so much.”

You’d mouthed along to his words—you’ve heard them before, and you’ll likely hear them again—and when you’d caught his eye, you’d thrown him a winning smile that just made him roll his eyes.

He’d still been holding onto you, even though you’d long regained your balance.

You were almost certain you’d seen his mouth twitch slightly in the dark. 

“Then we’ll find some other movies, Buck, and-” 

Steve had turned around to raise his brows at Bucky, but ended up doing a slight double take at the sight of you. Pressed tight to Bucky’s chest, his arm around your stomach, your eyes wide on Steve’s, and Bucky continuing to monitor the incredibly empty hall.

“I- uh-“ You’d been pretty sure Steve was blushing, and he’d definitely been stumbling over his words. “I can- I’m just gonna turn around-“

“Why?” Sam’s voice had been a little too loud and eager in your ear. “What’s going on? Are they making-“

“I fell.” You’d mumbled, your voice a little frantic. “And Bucky-“

“What did he do? Did he sweep you off your feet-“

“Shut up, Wilson.” Bucky still hadn’t been paying full attention. He still hadn’t let go. “Focus on the mission-“

You could picture Sam’s shrug. “Mission is boring. How exciting, Hydra’s taking up gardening-“

You’d frowned into the air. “It’s not gardening, Sam-“

“Right, sorry,” Sam had said your name, his voice at least a little apologetic. “Didn’t mean to shit on your thing-“

“Yeah, that’s not what I’m worried about.” You’d sighed, leaning your head a little back. You’d almost been resting it on Bucky’s shoulder.

He hadn’t pushed you away.

“Did you read Stark’s mission briefing-“

“No.” Sam had cut you off, and he’d sounded appalled you’d even suggest that. “It’s mostly just Tony kissing his own ass, and you and Golden Boy down there always go cover to cover, so why should I-”

You sigh. “Because then you’d know why it’s not just gardening, dumbass-“

Sam had gasped, and it had been one of the most dramatic ones you’d even heard. “That’s not very nice-“

“Shut up.” You’d raised your brows at Steve, who had been mostly trying to not look you or Bucky directly in the eyes. “Steve, tell bird-boy why it’s not just gardening.”

He’d nodded, staring very pointedly at a spot on the wall. “It’s, uh, they tried to make a bioweapon. With plants.”

“All I’m hearing is gardening-“

“Sam Wilson.” You’d snapped, and that had shut him up. You’d used what Stark called your Mom voice—where you stopped shouting and made your tone firm—and even Bucky had tensed behind you. “Stop acting like a middle schooler, or I’ll make you write a book report about the next briefing. Got it?”

Sam had sighed in your ear, mumbled an agreement, and Steve had shot you a nervous grin before he started shuffling back down the hall.

You’d had to poke Bucky’s face to get his attention, nodding to his arm around your body to get him to release you.

Once he had, you’d just kept walking, because you never allow yourself to think about those odd but frequent moments. The ones where Bucky touches you a little longer than needed, or did something protective that he’d probably do for anyone on a mission, but still made your head feel fuzzy and your gut a little warm.

The rest of the mission had run smoothly. Sam had shut up, and Steve had gotten distracted from the whole Bucky holding you like a doll thing by a few well-timed questions about how he’s doing on his self-inflicted music catch up mission, and you’d taken every single moment Bucky interacted with you and locked them deep in your chest. 

You’d gotten good at that. You were a dragon hoarding gold, only the dragon was your dumb little heart, and the gold was Bucky’s attention.

He’d opened at door for you. He’d stayed on pace behind you like a very stoic, grumpy guard dog. He’d pulled you back by the collar of your shirt before you could walk right into a trap, and you’d ended up half off the ground, in his arms, and repeating to yourself it means nothing.

This means nothing.

To Bucky, this means nothing.

Then he’d spoken to you, and you’d almost tripped over your own rapid and electrified heartbeat.

“I read it.” He’d muttered in your ear, and you’d blinked up at him with a frown.

“What?”

He’d been looking at you. His eyes are an always little more than on yours, because whenever Bucky looks at you it’s feels like something’s branding on your spine. Sending tiny little sparking shockwaves through your body, making you stand a little taller and blink a little less, because it seems your body simply refuses to miss a single moment him.

“I read the mission report.” He’d grunted. It had sounded incredibly important for you to know. “I always do.”

“Oh. Good.”

And he’d looked really handsome. His mission suit fit him too well. His metal hand kept flexing, and it was making your breathing a little short. He’d been bullied into a haircut a few months ago, but most of it had regrown, and it framed his face so distractingly well.

And that had been the mistake.

You’d gotten really distracted. Even after you’d kept walking, Bucky’s voice just bounced and echoed around in your head, and when you’d found the bioweapon—it was just a big flower, but Sam never needed to know that—you’d been too slow to react.

The spurt of pollen had been aimed at you.

Bucky had jumped in front of you because he was a dumbass.

And now, you were here.

The moment Bucky had been sprayed in the face—you’ve strictly forbidden Sam from called it being hit with plant jizz—his whole body had tensed, his eyes had dilated, and he’d… taken off his arm. Let it clatter to the floor as his breathing became labored, and his eyes locked onto yours.

You and Steve had stared at him, you’d opened your mouth to ask if he was okay, and he’d raised his hand as if he could physically block the sound of your voice.

“Steve.” His words had been pushed through his teeth, so strained and weighted that it had ached a little in your chest. “Get her out.”

Steve had just frowned at him. “Bucky, what’s-“

“Out.” He’d hissed, and Steve—the loyal fuck—had listened. 

You’d been carried back to the jet by Sam, Steve had gone back to get Bucky, and you’d had plenty of time to try and work out what the fuck had just happened.

It was a bioweapon. All of you had known that, but you didn’t know what it did. Bucky could be in pain, he could be suffering, he could be dying. 

He certainly isn’t okay. He’d asked to be restrained, every time you speak he flinches, and he’s refused to put his arm back on. Steve keeps trying to ask him what’s wrong, and he just shakes his head and mutters something you can’t hear. Sam tried to sit down next to you and he fucking growls.

“Jesus, Bucky, did you get turned into a dog by the plant ji-“

You slam your fist into Sam’s gut, he doubles over with a groan, and Bucky won’t stop staring at you. It’s worse than the branding feeling. That’s always just from you, and it’s always unintentional. Bucky doesn’t know that you like his pretty face and his grumpy words, that you have very vulgar and inappropriate fantasies about the metal arm, or that every time you draw a chuckle or small smile out him it makes the whole world light up. 

But this is brighter than the usual attention. This is a little feral, and he doesn’t look comfortable. Usually when he looks at you his body relaxes slightly, and you take that and bury it in your collection. Right now his stare seems to be carving right into your ribs and wrapping around your skin, like he’s trying to pull you apart with just his eyes. His breathing is ragged and loud, his nostrils keep flaring, and he’s leaning forward in his restraints.

And Steve’s a big guy, but not big enough that Bucky can’t lean around him to keep watching you.

Then his eyes start to droop, and you can see sweat stains all over his suit. He’s still looking at you.

He’s flushed and pale all at once, and he lets out a high, almost whining sound of pain-

“Sam.” You whisper, afraid to look away from Bucky for even a second. “Can you please-“

“Yes, ma’am.” Sam presses his hand to Bucky’s brow, his eyes widen slightly, and you feel a little sick. 

“Shit, uh, Steve-“

Steve moves without question, and his reaction is an almost twin look of worry.

“Goddamnit.” He looks back to you, saying your name cautiously. “It’s- he’s burning.”

“FRIDAY,” you mumble, because maybe they’re both wrong. Maybe the jet is warm. “Can you please check Bucky’s temperature?”

“Sargent Barnes has a fever of one-hundred and four point six degrees. Would you like me to alert the Compound to prepare for medical response?”

You swallow, your hand curling into a fist to stop it from reaching out and touching him. He’s got firm lines on his brow and you’d like to trace them. Sooth them out.

“Send his vitals to Bruce and Tony too.”

Steve takes over for you, and you’ll have to thank him later, when your heart isn’t pounding and banging in your ribs, and Bucky doesn’t look like he’s trying to fly out of his skin. 

You don’t know why he jumped in front of you. You would’ve been fine. Whatever’s affecting him wouldn’t affect you. And he should’ve known that.

“Why does Stark call you Mother Earth?” He’d asked you once, suddenly a few feet behind you in the kitchen, and you’d blinked at him. 

He’d only just moved into the compound. His hair was still a little greasy—he hadn’t been introduced to the wonders of coconut oil and conditioner yet—and there was still a weary, haunted expression on his face almost every waking second. He didn’t talk to anyone but Steve because it was Steve, his government mandated therapist because he had to, and Sam and Peter because they didn’t know how to not talk. 

But there he was. 

Talking to you.

“Because I have plant powers.” You’d shrugged, turning back to the stove. “And Tony’s convinced he’s a comedic genius.”

Bucky had moved to lean against the counter, and he’d still been watching you. It was the first time you’d gotten that warm, bright feeling up your spine. “What do plant powers do.”

“The technical term Bruce uses is chlorokinesis.” You’d started to fish through the cabinets for a mug, keeping your voice calm and even. “I can control and manipulate botanical life. But I’m also invulnerable. To physical injury and allergies, because I’m basically half-plant myself, so I can like, regrow or whatever. I mean, plant powers is pretty fucking self-explanatory-“

You’d paused, glancing at Bucky with an apologetic expression.

“Sorry.” You’d mumbled. “That was mean.”

He’d given you an odd look, and for a second you’d thought he would leave. Push off the counter and walk away, never sparing a glance in your direction again.

But he’d just stared at you with that unreadable expression. And when he’d finally spoken, his words weren’t clipped or rough. They’d sounded almost easy. Calm.

“Do you need help?”

You’d swallowed, your hand still reaching half over your head. “What?”

“You look like you’re having trouble.” He’d nodded to your outstretched arm, frozen in the cabinet. “I can help.”

You’d nodded, he’d closed the space in one second, and his body had been warm. Almost radiating heat, setting your skin on fire when just his fingers brushed yours. He’d handed you the mug with an expression on his face that was almost a grin, you’d smiled back, and that had been it.

You’d been gone.

You’d barely even stood a chance.

Your heart had passed itself into Bucky’s hands, and he’d held it so carefully without ever knowing. He stayed near you and fed your hunger for him all the fucking time. He literally fed you, because the thing that seemed to fascinate him the most about modern times was the food—to the point that Tony put a weekly cap on his DoorDash account—and whenever he knew you were at the compound, he’d make you eat with him. 

And Sam had been right. Bucky did have an odd, amusing determination to remain entirely an old man, but it was also adorable and charming in a way Sam simply did not know how to appreciate. You’d learned that—to make Bucky consume any remotely modern media—you just had to let him show you something in trade. You’d listened to a lot of Bing Crosby and Duke Ellington just to make Bucky experience one Beyonce song.

His eyes had been so wide the entire time you’d been worried they’d pop out of his head.

You’d caught him listening to it again almost two weeks later, mumbling along to the lyrics in a way that was more sound than word.

And you’d fallen a little further. Over and over in small moments like that one, stronger and stronger as Bucky’s smile turned from a grimacing, almost mechanical movement as he relearned how his face worked, into a broad, almost goofy expression that he seemed to reserve for the people that sat with him in silence when he needed it, and smiled at him without expecting one in return.

The list was short. Limited to you and Steve, as well as Sam under very dire circumstances.

You’d never allowed yourself to read too far into that. 

But it was hard not to now. 

Because Bucky wasn’t looking at anyone but you. Whenever his eyes flutter in his sleep, or he wakes up with a low moan, his gaze locks onto your open expression of worry. He keeps groaning something that sounds like your name in his sleep.

You want to help him.

He curls away from you with almost a snarl every time you try to even get out of your seat. 

And you’re so confused.

Steve mutters your name when the jet lands, and he’s not looking away from Bucky as he speaks. “Don’t get out of your seat until we get Bucky sedated.”

You nod nervously, right up until the word sedated catches up with your brain. 

“Wait, don’t-“

“We have to.” Steve’s voice is firm. Low and unwavering. “I’ll explain later. Stay in your seat.”

He’s not asking. That’s an order.

And it only takes a few moments for you to realize why.

Bucky fights. The medic team wakes him up as they try to move him out of the jet, and he fights like an animal. This isn’t his usual, controlled and calculated movements. This is wild, with roars and noises that are almost primal ripping out of his chest. 

He doesn’t stop looking at you, or saying your name, and the noise is almost pleading. 

You have to cover your ears. If you heard any more you would’ve damned it and helped him, and you have a feeling it would’ve made everything worse. 

It takes Steve, Sam, the whole med team, and a very concerned Natasha to get him down. 

And you’re alone in the jet. Left to wander your way back to your room, your hands shaking slightly and your head spinning.

He would’ve been fine. If you’d just stayed in the car, or you’d been fucking paying attention and had moved faster—dodging the spray yourself or making sure it hit you instead of Bucky—everything would’ve been fine.

Nobody tells you what’s happening. You lay on flat the bed, stare up at the ceiling, and your brain begins to feel a little foggy.

You can still see him staring at you. The sight is almost seared onto your vision, and everything seems to be lined with blue wherever you look. He’d been in pain. This building has the most advanced medical technology in America, and these people have access to all the best doctors in the world, but as far as you know he’s still hurting. Still screaming and thrashing, still burning up and probably all alone, because this is the exact type of thing that can’t happen to him.

Fuck. This can’t happen to Bucky. If it was Steve they’d be worried, but he’d be treated with more care. No brutal slamming of his body against the jet wall, no sedative specifically tailored to make him go down. If it was Sam there wouldn’t need to be as many resources exerted to get him down. Bucky would’ve just punched him in the face with no shortage of glee in his expression, and everyone would be fine.

But Bucky’s going to have to get mental clearance. That wasn’t the Soldier, but they’ll be worried it was. You’d still seen Bucky behind his eyes—simply a panicked and desperate version of him—but no one’s going to see that but you. Even Steve will elect to be safe rather than sorry.

You’d fucked it up for him. He’d been doing so well, and you’d fucked it up with your dumb, distracting infatuation. And you don’t even know if he’s still in pain.

“FRIDAY?” Your voice is soft, barely audible even in the silence, but the AI hears you anyway.

“How can I help you, Mother Earth?”

You’re going to need to stab Tony later. Right now you have bigger worries.

“Is Bucky okay?”

“I’m sorry, agent,” FRIDAY says your last name, and her voice doesn’t sound very sorry. “I have been blocked from sharing any information about Sargent Barnes with you indefinitely.”

You sit up on the bed, glaring around the room. “I’m- what? Why would- what? Who blocked me?”

“The order was issued by Agent Romanov.” 

“Can you please unblock me?”

“Unfortunately not. Your admin privileges have been removed from my system until further notice.”

You gape at the ceiling. “Who did that?”

“Dr. Banner put in the request, and it was approved by Mr. Stark. You are also under strict orders not to leave your quarters. I have an audio recording from Mr. Stark for you that can be played upon request. Would you-“

“Play it.” You snap, then flinch at your own harsh tone. “Sorry. Please play it.”

“Hey, Mom.” Tony’s voice fills the room, the usual light apathy in his voice filled with something heavier. Almost tired. You almost forget to be mad about him calling you mom. “Before you get all pissed and turn my house into the Amazon, we didn’t want to do this. Tall, dark, and murdery keeps saying your name, and until we work out what’s wrong with him I’m not comfortable having you wander around. Sorry.”

The audio clicks off, and Tony’s getting stabbed twice now. 

“FRIDAY,” you chose your words carefully, keeping your tone even and natural. “Can you please tell me who’s near residential room sixty-seven?”

“Captain Rogers and Mr. Stark are standing the hall, Dr. Banner recently entered the room, and Agent Romanov just left the wing.”

“Can you patch me to Natasha, please?”

“I am alerting the agent of your request now.”

It takes a long, painful second, but Natasha picks up. You barely wait for the static hum of the call to fill the room before you’re talking, staring at the corner of your room where you know Tony keeps the camera.

“What’s wrong with him.”

Natasha sighs over the speaker. “I can’t tell you that,” she says your name in a worryingly gentle voice, and your hands curl back into fists. “You know I can’t.”

“I’m not-“ You swallow, holding your gaze on the camera. “Please. Just tell me what’s going on-“

“We’re going to fix it. Tony and Steve are looking at options-“

“Options for what?” Your voice is pleading. You don’t care. “Nat, I’m can’t- I’m really worried-“

“I know you are.” Her voice is still gentle. You can taste bile in your throat. “Which is why we can’t tell you. I’m-“

“Don’t say sorry.” You snap. “Just, just tell me he’s okay. Please.”

There’s a long silence. It’s an answer enough, and it sinks too deep into your skin. 

Natasha’s a good liar. 

Why can’t she just lie.

“He will be okay.” Her tone is cautious, and you can picture her frown. “We’ll make sure he’s okay.”

“Can I help?” You whisper. “With anything? Please?”

She’s silent again. You’re going to throw up.

“Nat-“

“I’ll call you back.” 

The line goes dead, and that time, she’d lied. She doesn’t call you back. Time drags on and comes to odd, stuttering halts as you sit in the silence, and when you finally clear your throat and sit up once more, it’s dark outside.

“FRIDAY, can you please give me the feed of the hallway outside residential room sixty-seven?”

The AI doesn’t bother to answer you, silently patching you through. 

You don’t think she’s really supposed to. But she seems to like that you say please.

Natasha, Steve, and Bruce are huddled outside of Bucky’s room, their voices low, but not enough for FRIDAY not to pick up the audio.

“He’s not getting any better.” Bruce mutters, his head turned down. You can see him fidgeting with his glasses, and you can picture the frown on his face. “And I am beginning to worry. There’s just- there’s nothing else I can do.”

Steve shakes his head, and the panic in his voice sounds a lot like the wired, tense little bubbles rising in your throat. “But- Bruce there’s got to be another option, we work in a miracle factory-“

“And I’m afraid I’m out of them, Cap. I’m sorry, it’s- it’s the only option.” Bruce sighs. “Hydra was very thorough.”

There’s a long moment of silence you can’t understand, the hum of the audio clashing horribly with the ringing in your ears, and then-

“He won’t take anyone else?” Natasha sounds desperate. It’s louder than an alarm echoing through the compound. “What about- Have we tried the pocket pussy?”

“He broke it.” Steve mutters, his face red, and a lot of things click into place at once. 

The heavy breathing, and tension in his body, and animalistic sounds and behaviors. The dilated eyes, and restraints, and intense gaze. 

Lustful gaze.

Oh. 

Fuck.

“And Bucky’s been very clear with us that he refuses to do… that with anyone but her.” Steve’s still talking. The room around you is a little hazy. “Tony even offered to hire someone, and he said he’d rather uh, castrate himself.”

Natasha lets out a slow breath, her words slow and careful. “She’d say yes-“

“I know she would, Nat, that’s not my worry.” Steve shakes his head, frowning at the door. “She’d say yes to help him, and he’d- It would break him. If that was it.”

“And I’m trying to get it into your skull, Rogers, that wouldn’t be it-“

“You don’t know that-“

Natasha lets out a dry laugh. “I’m pretty sure I do. You’d have to be blind not to see it-“

“I’m not blind, I just don’t want Bucky to get hurt-“

“He wouldn’t get hurt, that’s what I’m saying-“

“And when he does? We can’t kick either of them out, and he- You don’t know how serious it is for him, Nat.” Steve sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. “He called it a love a first sight thing.”

Natasha rolls her eyes. “That probably makes two of them.” 

And Natasha says your name. Everything slows, but not like in a movie. More like being underwater, where it’s just a little harder to see and hear, and you’re pushing against something that all around you, and it’s cool and easy but you’re drowning-

Then you breach the surface. 

And the world becomes too fast around you as Natasha just keeps talking.

“She was begging me to help, Steve. She wouldn’t regret it-“

“And Barnes is running out time.” Bruce jumps in, giving Natasha an apologetic look. “I don’t believe he’ll allow another, no matter what levels or heights his desperation reaches, especially if he’s as… infatuated as you say.”

“He is.” Steve mumbles. “It’s… Geez, Bruce, he’s like a lost puppy.”

“So let’s go get his owner.” Natasha gives Steve a pointed look, and you swallow. “She at least deserves a choice.”

You. 

You deserve the choice. 

The feed drops black, and you’re going to get a choice.

It’s barely a choice. It’s more of an instinct. Steve and Bruce shuffle into your room with nervous smiles, explain the situation—you don’t want to give away that you’d been spying, it would likely just make things more complicated—and the words are Bucky’ll only, well, he’s refusing anyone but you are barely out of Steve’s mouth before you nod. 

You say yes. And Steve stares at you, opening his mouth to say something he seems to think better of, and you hold is gaze. 

You mean it. 

And no amount of shock over the situation, no amount of stunning revelations or Tony’s worrying about you coming out, no pun intended, right side up will make you not mean it.

They give you an escape plan.

You won’t use it.

Bucky’s entirely naked when you walk into his room. Pulling a blanket over his lap before your eyes can wander further down from his darkened, painfully handsome face and broad chest. He’s sitting tall and rigid on the edge of his mattress, almost tracking your every movement as you walk through the door, jaw ticking when it closes behind you.

“You shouldn’t be in here.” He mutters. “I told Steve I’d be alright-“

“Steve told me you’re in love with me,” you blurt, and Bucky stares at you.

You hadn’t meant to just say it. You’d been planning a large build up, where he’d accuse you of pitying him and you’d say I don’t pity you, I love you, and I know you love me too.

But his first few words had been barely a rasp. He was flushed all over his body, his breathing was somehow far too deep and shallow all at once, and you can see the muscles twitching in his body. He seems to be forcing himself to barely even shift on the bed, and the mattress is creaking under the weight of his metal arm.

He put the metal arm back on.

Based on how the sheets are stained and the blanket over his lap has shifted, you have a good idea why.

Your knees are a little weak from just the sight of him. 

And it’s no longer just Bucky who needs the whole we’re both idiots, because I love you conversation out of the way quick.

“Steve fucking told you-“

“He didn’t know he was telling me.” Your voice is quick, your eyes widening slightly as you cut off Bucky’s growl. “I may have been, um, spying.”

Bucky scans you over slowly, and his mouth does the small curve that means he’s dangerously close to a real smile. “Spying doesn’t really sound like you,” he says your name, and where it would normally be a drawl it’s a growl. Your legs are going to give out. “Hydra blast you with something too?”

“I’m branching out.” You mumble, playing with the fabric of your shirt and forcing yourself to hold his gaze. “Are you? In love with me?”

Bucky’s nostrils flare, and he’s watching you like he thinks you’ll disappear. Like he’s certain you’re a trick or lie or something sent to hurt him, but he’d really like you to be real.

You’d like to be real. For Bucky, you’d like to be almost anything.

And he nods, and you’re lucky the adrenaline and fear for Bucky’s health are outweighing how your heart is going to beat out of your chest.

“How-“ You have to clear your throat, your voice weaker than you’d like. “How long?”

He suddenly won’t meet your eyes. “You gave me flowers.”

You blink at him. “Bucky, I don’t-“

“Steve was introducing me to everyone.” He mutters, bowing his head. “I don’t even know where you came from, but we turned a corner and you were just… there. Like you’d formed out of thin air or something. We startled you, and you screamed. Really loud.” You think your skin might be burning up, but Bucky’s voice has a soft sort of fondness to it that keeps you from exploding on the spot. “You were really pissed, yelling at Steve about how he should know better, and your hands were full. You handed me your flowers, and you shoved Steve. He didn’t budge, and that just made you angrier. Another flower grew out of the wall. You gave me that one too.”

“Oh.” You whisper, and Bucky just nods. “And you- when did you-“

“The moment you screamed.” He frowns at himself, shaking his head. “Not because of the scream, it was a- You weren’t afraid. You screamed but you were mostly just angry, and you gave me flowers. Helped that you were beautiful.”

You can hear your heartbeat in your ears. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

“I-“ You swallow. “I thought you didn’t remember that. You asked me what my powers were-“

Bucky’s flush deepens. “Just wanted to talk to you.”

“Oh.” You swallow, titling your head at him. “And- When you jumped in front of me-“

“Instinct.” He’s glaring at the floor like it’s personally responsible for this whole situation. “Didn’t think. Saw you were going to be hit. Jumped.”

His words are starting to become more and more clipped and strained, as if your very presence is bending him to a snapping point.

“That wasn’t very smart, Barnes.”

“I know.” He mumbles, shoulder dropping like he’s trying to cave in on his own body, and you sigh.

“But I get it. And I- I just don’t want- I need you, Bucky. Don’t do that again.“

He nods, you don’t think he actually heard you, and you need him to look at you.

When you take a careful step forward, he glances up, but it’s weary. 

“You grabbed my mug.” You whisper, giving him plenty of time to stop you before you’re standing between his legs. He doesn’t, and you take his face in your hands, your smile widening as he stares at you. “It felt like I- I could’ve died, Bucky. It was… Very big.”

It’s a strange thing to say, but there’s no other way to describe the true mass and power of how fast your love for Bucky had hit you, how quick it had sunken into your bones and mixed with your blood, and how fast your entire body had been rewritten with that knowledge as code. You love Bucky. 

It’s just as natural as you need to breathe air.

He seems to understand, because he nods slowly, but it quickly turns into shakes of his head, limited between your hands.

“You don’t have to do this-“

“I don’t.” You shrug, holding his gaze. “But I’m going to. Because I love you.”

He grunts, his body almost vibrating under your touch, a visible spasm wracking his body at the words. “I- Not like this.” His words are barely audible, pushed through his teeth. “It shouldn’t be like this.”

“Bucky-“

“No. I’m not- I could hurt you. I’m not going to fucking hurt you.” 

You sigh. “You can’t hurt me-“ 

He lets out a dry laugh. “As romantic as that is, doll, I very much can hurt you-“ 

“No. You literally cannot hurt me.” You raise your brows at him, your voice flat. “I’m invulnerable.”

He blinks at you, and somehow goes redder. “Oh. Right. That- I forgot.” 

You giggle, running your fingers through his hair and he scowls.

“There are million assholes with a million powers, how the hell am I supposed to keep track-“

“I’m not laughing at you, Buck. You’re cute.” You smile at him, and all the tight annoyance vanishes from him expression in a single second. He’s staring at you again.

And no one’s ever looked at you like that. Like you’re maybe brighter and more critical than the sun, and you’re pulling them in stronger than the moon and the tides.

But he’s still shaking under your touch. And fuck, up close you feel even weaker. You can see every flex of his muscles, every bit of desire in his blown-out eyes and expression, the way he’s poking through the sheets over his lap and how there’s already a dark spot of pre-cum forming a stain-

You cough, your head already going a little hazy. “I want to help, Bucky. I really do, and you won’t hurt me, but if you really don’t want it, I’ll go-“

You’re falling forwards before you know what’s happening. And any yelps or squeaks of surprise are swallowed as Bucky slams his mouth into yours, and everything else in the world fades to humming color. 

Everything becomes second to this.

To Bucky.

He mostly tastes like salt from the sweat dripping down his body, but under that is a heavy, strong thing that might just be him. His tongue shoved down your throat and his hands gripping your hips like a lifeline, every low and feral grunt that rumbles through his chest making you moan down into his mouth.

Nothing about this is controlled or careful. It’s teeth and spit and brutal want, bubbling up and bursting over as he nips at your lower lip and you start to grind down against him, his touch starting to wander and squeeze at the skin of your back and ass and thighs, the touch of his metal hand soothing as you scratch at his shoulder, the heat of your bodies feeling strong enough to start a small fire. Bucky’s whole arm wraps around your waist, pinning you to his chest, and when your hands fist in his hair his hips jerk up, the bump of his cock against your core making you almost melt into his body. 

He’s throbbing. With the barrier of the sheets gone you can feel every inch of him wedged between your legs, and God, he’s so hard you’d think he was just a stick if you couldn’t feel every jump and twitch of his cock against your clothed thighs.

“Bucky-“ You force yourself to pull back, keep your brow pressed to his as your hips continue to roll against him. “We- Fuck, I-“

Words are a little too far away, and it doesn’t help that he won’t stop kissing you. He’s in pain and you need to fix it, but he also keeps sucking and licking over your jaw and cheeks, he’s dropping down to just bury his face in your throat, and this isn’t about you but fuck, that feels good-

You give up on words. You’ve spoken enough for now, and right now you just need to-

Bucky grunts your name as you push him off of your neck, squirming back until you’re falling to your knees before him.

“What’re you-“

You trace one hand up his thigh, trying not to spend too much time marveling at his dick. You’ve dreamed of this moment, devoted whole long and boring meetings and sleep cycles to it, and it’s still better than you’d imagined. 

He’s perfect. Not big enough that you’re worried for your health, but enough that you might need to be carried around tomorrow. And he’s thick, and firm in your hand, and when you swipe your thumb over the weeping head of him, Bucky makes a sound that settles right between your legs-

“You don’t-“ He groans as you pump him once, twice, squeezing at the base of his cock and rubbing his thigh with your free hand. “Jesus, this- you’re not playing fair, doll-“

You smile up at him, and you’ve really never seen anything better than Bucky’s wrecked and desperate expression, his hair sticking to his brow and his jaw clenched so tight you’re shocked he’s able to speak. 

“I think you’ll live,” you whisper, letting your hand drift down to cup his balls. “And I want to.” 

Something like wonder glows behind Bucky’s eyes as he hisses your name, and the sound quickly turns to the loudest, most primal sound you’ve ever heard as you take him in your mouth in one movement. 

You set a quick and even pace, bobbing up and down his cock until he’s bumping the back of your throat before pulling almost all the way off and licking a long stripe along the underside. It only takes a moment for Bucky’s hand to shoot in your hair, not guiding your movements but almost trying to keep you steady around him, his grip tightening every time you squeeze and play with his balls, his movements still painfully controlled against you. 

He needs not to hold back. You don’t want him to hold back. 

You reach back to hold his hand on your head—it’s the right one, and you make a comfortable bet that it’s on purpose—tangling your own fingers in his, and you start to move. Properly fucking your own face against him, squeezing his hand in silent encouragement whenever you almost choke on him, grinding your hips near his calf in silent encouragement.

Bucky moans you name when you swallow against the tip of his cock, and it’s a final warning.

You moan around him, and that’s it.

He starts to slam up into you, and you have to grab his knee to keep balance, tracing small circles with your thumb to let him know you’re okay.

You’re more than okay. Every sound Bucky makes is slurred and unintelligible, but you can get the idea. It’s odd combination of your name and praise, all sparking further heat in your gut as Bucky grows sloppy, his cock jumping and twitching in your throat. 

He roars your name as he cums down your throat, and you need to hear that sound again. It spurs on your desperate grinding—half against the air, your clit bumping against Bucky’s leg if you get the right movement—and you barely manage to swallow all of his release before he’s pulling you off his cock and hauling you back up like you weigh nothing.

The kiss he moves you into—your body curled back on his lap, your legs wrapping around his waist—is a little softer than before, and you think you managed to take just a slightly edge off his problem. It’s still devouring and deep and filled with so much passion you might cum just from the feeling of Bucky’s tongue tracing over your lips and teeth and throat, but it’s slower. 

“So fucking good, doll.“ His voice is a growl down your throat, and you wiggle in his hold, every bit of your own need suddenly slams into your body. “God- Don’t know how I got you, but I’m never- Wanna keep you-“

You nod, not really registering anything but Bucky saying your name and a warm feeling of good. Bucky and good, that’s burning and rolling around in your chest and stomach.

“You like that?” Bucky squeezes at your ass, and you whimper. “I’m gonna take care of you, sweet girl, make you feel just as good as I felt, seeing those gorgeous lips wrapped around my cock-“

You’re not sure how he’s capable of speech right now, but he’s talking and it’s ignite every fiber of your body, and you can only barely shake your head, pulling at his hair as you try to drag yourself together, because this isn’t about you-

The sound that leaves you when Bucky flips you over—pinning you between his body and the mattress—isn’t dignified or coherent, but you don’t really care. Not as his knee moves between your legs and your clothing gets ripped off of your skin in effective and feral movements, leaving you a puddle of need and loud moans beneath Bucky’s touch.

He’s hard again. You can feel him poking against your lower stomach as he kisses you into a dazed and high mess, and it must be painful but you still can’t really figure out how words work. How to say anything that isn’t a loud moan of Bucky. 

You try to squirm, to off him at least a little friction because this is supposed to be about him, but his metal hand traps your hips, halting your every movement as he hauls himself up.

He’s just staring at you. You’re drooling a little, your chest heaving as you try to get in a breath, and your hands are still tangled in his hair for balance.

You’re lying down, but you need balance.

Because Bucky rolls his knee against your bare pussy, and your back arches off the bed with a gasp that makes his eyes flash, his dick pulsing right on your skin-

“Please-“ The word is barely audible, but it’s all you can manage. “Bucky, I- You need to-“

He nods, diving down to a long, heavy kiss and groaning as you try to grind up into him, but then he’s gone.

Not gone.

Moving down to settle between your legs, his breath hot over your cunt and his eyes wholly black as he takes in the mess between your legs.

“Wait, Buc-“ You whine as he pulls your legs further apart, the metal hand dragging two fingers between the soaked folds of your pussy. “Shit- You don’t- This is supposed to be about you-“

“This is about me.” He grunts, his right hand trailing slowly up your inner thigh, and when you crane your neck to look at him there’s almost a fascination on his face. “Said you’d feel good.”

“I do- I am good-“ Your hips fly off the mattress as he kisses right over your clit, and the metal arm moves to pin you back against the mattress. “You don’t need-“

He latches his lips over your clit, sucking and licking as his free thumb presses right over your entrance, and you choke on the air. 

“Bucky- fuck-“

“Want to,” he growls, the sound humming and deep and right over your pussy, and you can’t gasp his name enough. “Hold on.”

Your hands blindly follow his order, one fisting in his hair as the other grips his metal arm, and you’re not sure how you don’t black out.

There’s something a little clumsy to his movements–decades without practice will do that—but that only seems to make it better. He’s not calculated and deliberate. You’re not a mission or a means to an end.

Bucky eats your pussy like he wants to. Like he’s been starved for it, and there’s nothing more he needs in the world. It’s not gentle but it’s attentive, he’s keeping you right on the edge—pulling his hand away and replacing it with his tongue, letting his nose bump you clit until he moves back to pumping his fingers in and out of your fluttering cunt—and you can hear the bed start to squeak as his own hips rut against the mattress.

You try to moan his name, but you can’t think, so all that comes out is a high, needy whine. 

He understands. His metal hand moves to tangle with yours, grounding you slightly as you hang right over the edge of release, and when his finger crook on that one, sensitive spot deep inside of you, fireworks burst in over your body as you cum with a strangled scream. 

Bucky makes a deep sound against your pussy as you start to roll in his hold, and you don’t get a chance to catch your breath before he’s crashing back up to your mouth.

He moans your name against your lips, his cock pressed right against your still fluttering cunt, and you nod. 

“Now,” you manage to whisper, spreading your legs widen in a silent invitation. “Bucky, need more-“

Whatever amount of control he’d had only a few minutes ago is almost completely. Bucky flips you onto your stomach without effort, hauling your ass into the air with firm but gentle hands, and slams himself into you with one movement. You gasp as he bottoms out, and he doesn’t move.

Somehow Bucky manages to still have enough of a hold over himself to give you time to adjust, even if it’s not without effort. You can hear the low grunts leaving him as he half folds himself over your body, kissing slowly up your spine and resting his brow on your shoulder, his breathing ragged and sharp as you clench around his cock.

“Fuck-“ Bucky hisses your name, shaking his head. “Can’t do that, I’m not-“ You do it again, and he moans. A real, loud moan. “You’re- fuck-“

“Please,” you wiggle your ass against him, and his hands tense on your body. “I- I’m good-“

“Yeah, you are.” His mutter is filled with low wonder, and it just makes you squeak. “You want it, babydoll?”

You moan, nodding stupidly. “Yes-“

The word is barely out of your mouth before Bucky starts to move, and you’ve never been higher. He’s in so deep, and you’re fuller than you’ve been in your life, and drunk on how big he is, how he hits every right spot and how he keeps grunting low praise and moaning your name against your skin-

You bury your face in the sheets to try and muffle your whines of desperation and Bucky’s hand catches your jaw, turning your head to capture your lips in a long, searing kiss as he hammers into you. 

“Bucky-“

“Feel so good,” he mutters again your lips, thrusting with a brutal movement and groaning when you squeeze around his cock. “Jesus, you’re so good, doing so well, pretty girl, so fuckin’ close-“

The Brooklyn accent is coming out, and his words are starting to slur, and you only manage to moan down his throat in a silent plea of more. 

Bucky’s pace picks up into uncontrolled and frantic movements, his skin slapping against yours as his metal arm snaked around your stomach and his fingers start to rub furious, impossibly fast circles around your clit-

Your second orgasm slams into you like a tidal wave, and the only thing in the world is the dizzying and perfect pleasure washing over your body as Bucky roars your name, something warm filling you up and dripping down your thighs with your own release.

Bucky tries to move away—pulling out and pushing off of where he’s wrapped himself around your body—but you grab his arm, keeping him splayed over you.

“Need to clean you up-“

“I’ll be okay,” you mumble, a dazed smile covering your lips as you reach back, trailing your finger through his hair. “Stay.”

He pauses, but only for a second. Then his weight is settles back over your body, and everything is alright. 

Bucky’s alright. His cock in still twitching and jumping near your ass, and you think it’ll take a while to fully fuck the bioweapon out of his system, but you’re more than up to the task. For now you can just drown in his warmth, half petting his hair and humming as his lips trail over your shoulder in featherlight kisses.

“Did you mean it?” 

You twist your head, a small frown on your face. “Mean-“

“The-“ He sighs, staring at you like he’s trying to pry something inside of you out. “The thing.”

“That I love you?”

Bucky’s throat bobs, and he nods. 

“Of course I did.” You whisper, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth that takes only second to turn into Bucky rolling your onto your back, his tongue pressing on your lower lip in a silent request-

You push on his chest slightly, holding his gaze as he pulls back with a frown.

“Did you mean it?”

He looks almost offended. “Yeah, I meant it. I’ve never meant anything more-“

You tug him back down, and that can be the end of it for now. It could be the end of it forever, and you’d be happy.

You don’t need a long explanation about it. You don’t need justifications for why neither of you ever said anything, or to repeat it until you both believe it.

You already believe it. And telling Bucky won’t do anything, so you’ll just have to spend a long, long time showing him.

And as long as you have that time, with Bucky, you’ll be happy.

End Note: Love making Steve talk about pocket pussies. That's an America I want to be a part of <3

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