#the year they turn 40 will maybe spicy up things

[iam-anordinary-human-orami]

I would imagine the twinyards rushing to text or call each other for happy birthday only because they made a game out of it, probably one of the sessions with Bee. Game rules are: first to wish "Birth" on the 4th of November wins, loser has to then say "Day", call Kevin and ask him something about history, or exy, or the history of exy. The twinyards turn 38 this year. To this day, Kevin still hasn't figured it out.

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

You're one of my favorite fallout blogs right now. Are there any more Cooper headcanons you have rattling around?

Firstly, you deeply flatter me. 🩷 I really enjoy writing stuff for you guys. To answer your question: yes, I have about a million more Cooper headcanons, and I'm more than happy to share, so here's a little random grab-bag. Since you didn't specify NSFW headcanons, I'll put some SFW ones here and do the NSFWs in a follow-up.

I'm currently traveling to visit family and have a hard time writing or editing in the car, but I'm hoping to have at least one longer smut submission done some time tonight or tomorrow. Thank you all for reading!

General SFW Cooper Howard Headcanons

Prewar! Cooper Howard

- I feel like he and Barb met and married a little older than would've been traditional at the time, maybe late 30's? Their relationship has a maturity to it that I think really only comes from meeting when you're both more established and confident in yourselves. I feel like it may have taken them a while to have Janey, as well. I imagine they probably wanted more kids but ultimately struggled to have them (that man absolutely ADORES being a dad, so in my mind he'd want like four or five kids). People seem to generally see Coop as late 40's-50ish, and Janey is like 7, right? 43(ish), with Barb maybe around 40, is pretty old for a first child.

- This man also 100% had pretty boy tendencies (and I bet they're still in there somewhere, just buried real deep). I don't see him as necessarily fussy about it, but after so many years of appearance being a big part of how he makes his living, I imagine you'd catch him in the mirror about any time one appeared, "just to check real quick". Very particular about his clothes fitting right. Meticulous dental hygiene. Always smells amazing.

- He's a big "acts of service" person; his favorite way to show love, whether it be to his family and friends, Janey, or you, is to learn what your interests and hobbies are and to engage with them, to remember things about you and what you like. And, like most people who are big on acts of service, he prefers to be loved that way, in turn. As such, he's a big sucker for inside jokes.

The Ghoul

- His sassy little duster is 110% used to make him look big and scary. Walton Goggins is only 5'10, and it's not like he's beefy in build. He's obviously not unmuscular, by any means, but he's lean. I'd call him "trailer park wiry". You'd definitely be surprised at how much smaller he looks the first time you see him without the coat; he still cuts an imposing figure after cultivating it for so long, but he looks so much more svelte without it. The boots and hat also probably make him seem bigger.

- The man still remembers how to dance, like, really well. Line dancing, ballroom, even a little swing...he's quite eclectic. You will 100% have to nag about this a little if you want to actually see it in action, because he thinks you just wanna make fun of him for it, but if you can convince him you really do just wanna share this with him, he'll teach you. Finds he still really enjoys it if you can convince him to try.

- Doesn't have much by way of a sense of taste anymore, like most old men, and, like most old men, he has a penchant for sweets of any kind (that also isn't totally partially a remnant of how much junk he used to eat with Janey). Sweet and spicy he can still taste.

[joenotexotic99]

Idk if you're still making this, but I want to let you know that we're waiting for BoB Lovetropes p2. My suggestions: Toye, Eugene, Malarkey, Guarnere, Luz, Sobel. Hope you're doing okay <3

A/n: I've been dealing with some stuff lately and now finally have a little time to catch up on old stuff. I also want to apologize anon I couldn't bring myself to soble. Sorry couldn't do it.

-Warnings: fluff, tiny bit of language, got wayyy to carried away with malarkey’s, oops. Might have to turn that into its own thing, if it's not already. Luz is slightly spicy, nothing crazy but you cant miss it.-

Masterlist

Joe Toye

-grumpy vs sunshine trope. Omggggg, the idea of this has me kicking my feet and giggling. Joe Toye is rough around the edges, tough skin. You on the other hand have always been the positive one, keeping the people around you spirits high. Being an optimist of sorts. Maybe not cheerful but you could definitely make someone's day. Yet behind his grumpy facade, he can't help but notice your unwavering optimism. He wasn't opposed to love; he just never expected to be swept off his feet so quickly by one person. Your personality was anything but the same. Never in a million years did he think he was going to fall in love with a bright and shiny person, which was the exact reason why he loved you so much. You two were like night and day. You were the beacon of light in all the darkness. I feel like Toye would also be super protective over you. Kinda the same vibe as liebgott. But that's for another time. 

“Is that a smile I see on your face toye?” “I'm one lucky bastard you realize that?”

Eugene roe

-office romance/forced proximity. I didn't exactly know what to call this one. Both you and roe are easy company medics. Gene from the start, harbord a crush on you. And mean big time crush. Thinking about you he got butterflies in his stomach. You both spent significant time together. Typically the only times you were separated is when you were attending to fellow paratroopers. Bastogne was a turning point. You were in a jeep headed to the church, your hand and a cloth being the soul thing keeping a man alive. You almost made it before the church burst into flames. When Gene heard what happened he got the first ride possible to bastogne. When he saw you, hand now on a clearly dead man, he took you into his arms. He brought you back to the Adrennes forest. As usual you spent the night in genes fox hole the only difference was you both saw what was right in front of you for the first time and kissed. It wasn't until Austria where he gave you a promise ring where he promised to spend and devote the rest of his life with you.

“you make me the happiest man you know that y/n?”

“Tell me that again at our wedding”

Donald Malarkey 

-friends to lovers? Maybe a sprinkle of enemies to lovers?? I don't know but here me out. So you join the paratroopers as a female, the reason you got in was from connections in the army. Seeing how even if you are the most talented female there is, it's still the 40s here. I wouldn't think that the Toccoa men would flat out bully you, but would more just not believe in you. Probably leave you out of a lot of things. Kind of just pretend you weren't there. But not malarkey. He saw something in you that the rest didn't. Honestly he was shocked to see how they treated you. You were the best paratrooper there was in this company. You stood your ground. You met and exceeded in all categories. Passed each test with flying colors. You also were able to do it with the most incredible smile. As much as you disliked it, he stood up for you. Complimented and congratulated you when you did well. You really liked him. He was cute, kind, and not a douche wad. But sadly, most guys here if they weren't mean, they were trying to get Into your pants. As much as you wouldn't mind that with malarkey, you weren't here for that. One day in Aldbourne England you had enough. You weren't going to get swooned into bed and he had to know it. When you had a spare moment you grabbed him and pulled him aside and told him to stop. He was bewildered that this is how you perceived him. He explained to you that was not his intention. You could hear the sincerity of his voice. He meant it. This was the start of your friendship. You both were like a thing but not? Kinda a situationship. But it wasn't official until Haguenau. The effects of war painted across your faces. In one of the houses you laid in one of the beds, trying for the hundredth time to get some rest to no avail. He came and found you. There was little and a lot to say. Instead he kissed you. The past two years of friendship melted instantly into a lifetime of love. 

“god i've wanted you to do that for a long time”

“What happened to ‘I'm not here for a relationship’?”

“shut the fuck up and kiss me again would ya”

William Guarnere

-Enemies to lovers. Come on, this is so perfect. Guarnere is a natural bully. He bullies everybody all the time, but you? He loves bullying you. He always has an insult special for you up his sleeve. However, that's a lie. He hates it to his core. You are the sweetest person ever. All he wants to do is not bully you. He's somewhere in the middle of liebgott and Speers. He doesn't want to be seen as weak. He has this demnor he feels the need to uphold and that everybody around him expects. Not some ooey gooey man. Even though if he could he'd probably worship you. You were perfect in his eyes. He hates himself more and more but the more he digs himself into this hole the harder it is for him to get out. He finally cracks when someone else makes a particular mean stab at you one day at a bar in holland. He can hate himself all he fucking wants for bullying you. But somebody else is doing it? Hurting you? Not going to happen. He breaks his nose, jaw, maybe a rib or two, black eye and busted lip, all before he could get ripped off this guy. You get wind of this later. Within minutes you're confronting him. Before he shuts you up with a kiss.

“I thought you hated me”

“Hate you? No, For fuckes sake sweetheart, I'm in love with you”

George Luz

-meet cute. You originally met just before you signed up to be paratroopers. And I mean just before. You were getting blood work done to test how fit you were to fight.  As you waited in the lobby to fill out paperwork, you went to reach for your pen. That's when you realized it wasn't there. It just so happens that a very cute guy next to you had an extra with him. You quickly filled the paper and exchanged names and conversations. On the way home you couldn't get him out of your head. So couldn't he. Later when you were assigned to easy company you found the one and only George luz. The same extremely handsome guy at the clinic. He immediately recognized you. How could he not? Your face and laugh had been at the front of his thoughts a lot lately. You tried to keep both of your composure during Toccoa seeing how you didn't want to get into any trouble. But that all fell apart after one weekend with a pass and some alcohol. Kisses were shared, clothes were shed and hands roamed. After that night you made it official. Luz also started writing his vows.

“you know I've never felt this way before”

“What the sex or me? Because If it wasn't the sex let me know so we can go again”

“both luz, but I can't turn that offer down now can I”

[killerandhealerqueen]

BUCKLE UP BABE!! 2, 3, 9, 10, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 23, 25, 27, 32, 38, 39, 40

Let's fucking go

2. If you had to give up your keyboard and write your stories exclusively by hand, could you do it? If you already write everything by hand, a) are you a wizard and b) pen or pencil?

Oh fuck no. With the lengths of my stories, absolutely the fuck not

3. What is your writing ritual and why is it cursed?

Don't have any. I just sit down and write...does that count as cursed?

9. Do you believe in ghosts? This isn’t about writing I just wanna know

Yeah

10. Has a piece of writing ever “haunted” you? Has your own writing haunted you? What does that mean to you?

I don't know if a piece of writing has ever haunted me...mine or someone else's

14. Do you lend your books to people? Are people scared to borrow books from you? Do you know exactly where all your “lost” books are and which specific friend from school you haven’t seen in twelve years still possesses them? Will you ever get them back?

I do lend my books to people, knowing damn well that I'm probably never gonna get them back. I mainly lend them to my grandmother who then lends them to my uncle. Once it gets to my uncle, I'll probably never see it again. But that's fine

15. Do you write in the margins of your books? Dog-ear your pages? Read in the bath? Why or why not? Do you judge people who do these things? Can we still be friends?

I don't judge people who do them, but I don't. I'm a bit of purest when it comes to my books

16. What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever used as a bookmark?

I don't use bookmarks a whole lot. I just memorize the page number that I was on

17. Talk to me about the minutiae of your current WIP. Tell me about the lore, the history, the detail, the things that won’t make it in the text.

Currently working on a Killer and Healer Spirealm Au...there's not a whole lot of lore behind it, other than the main characters of the Spirealm are very similar to the main characters of my all time favorite drama Killer and Healer which is why I think this au is going to work (I mean, a lot of my aus work and I say this about every au but it's gonna be good)

18. Choose a passage from your writing. Tell me about the backstory of this moment. How you came up with it, how it changed from start to end. Spicy addition: Questioner provides the passage.

When he arrived, he was surprised to find that his little sister, Chen Keying, wasn’t sitting and waiting for him on the stoop like she normally did, causing him to frown.          “That’s odd…she should be home from school by now” he murmured before he hummed.          “Maybe she got tired and went to take a nap” he mused before he stepped through the gate and made his way through the courtyard before he stepped into the house, first stopping to place his kit down on the table before he made his way to Keying’s bedroom.          “Keying!  I’m home” he called out, but there was no answer, causing him to frown as he pushed open the door and poked his head in, only to see that the bedroom was empty.          “Keying?” he called out, but there was again, no answer, making him frown before he turned and headed towards his bedroom, as she also sometimes liked to nap there, stepping inside to find it also empty.

This scene is very similar to a scene in my Killer and Healer rewrite but that's kinda how it works with my fics...you'll find a lot of similar scenes or lines of dialogue and what not between them

19. Tell me a story about your writing journey. When did you start? Why did you start? Were there bumps along the way? Where are you now and where are you going?

So my writing journey started when I was in kindergarten and we were just having free time so I wrote a little story. My principle (who's an author herself) saw it/read it and said I was very creative and I had a gift for writing. Writing kind of just...continued from there. I'm always constantly telling stories in my head and I only really started putting them down onto paper/posting them online when i was like in middle school. As for where I am now...we're still trotting along and coming up with a new fic idea at every turn. And as for where I'm going...I have no idea. But I hope these characters are along for the ride

23. Describe the physical environment in which you write. Be as detailed as possible. Tell me what’s around you as you work. Paint me a picture.

I'm terrible at descriptive shit...uh...okay. I'm in bed, with a mint green blanket covering my crossed legs. A white bat plushie, a sloth plushie with a removable bean bag that can be warmed in the microwave, and a purple bat plushie are to my right while four different baby blankets are strewn out over the bed. Leaning against the wall is a pillow with a book on top of it, as I like to read in bed. Towards the bottom right hand side of the bed/footboards leans a giant grogu squishmallow, an Eeyore plushie next to it. To my left diagonally is a laundry basket full of clothes that need to be folded and against the right hand of the room parallel to a floor length mirror leaning on the left hand side of the room and a four-door dresser is a messy desk covered with makeup. In front of and across from the bed is a storage bench covered in random crap...my room really needs to be cleaned

25. What is a weird, hyper-specific detail you know about one of your characters that is completely irrelevant to the story?

There's no hyper-specific detail for this particular story

27. Who is the most stressful character you’ve ever written? Why?

Oh god, okay, the most stressful character(s) I've ever written is all of the ones where I never watched the source material. Was literally going off of gifsets and amvs to get the personalities and characteristics. I was always worried that I got them wrong...but according to my readers/commenters I haven't so... *hair flips*

32. What is a line from a poem/novel/fanfic etc that you return to from time and time again? How did you find it? What does it mean to you?

I'm sorry, my brain is a little...out of it today, so I can't think of one rn, I'm so sorry

38. What is something about your writing process YOU think is Really Weird? If you are comfortable, please share. If you’re not comfortable, what do you think cats say about us?

I think the fact that I can just sit down and write is pretty weird, not gonna lie

39. What keeps you writing when you feel like giving up?

My friends who hype me the fuck up. @ahhhnorealnamesallowed @kpopfantasywriter @seonghwacore @mishathewtf @hyperbolicgrinch @nineninepetals @evil-moonlight and @clawbehavior are really great people who make me feel better about my writing when I'm just...not having it. And I love them for it

40. Please share a poem with me, I need it.

I always loved this poem by Dr. Seuss and I think it's really great (it's not profound or anything but it's applicable, me thinks)

"And I've learned there are troubles

Of more than one kind.

Some come from ahead

And some come from behind.

But I've bought a big bat.

I'm all ready, you see.

Now my troubles are going

To have troubles with me!"

Weird Questions for Writers | send me asks

[wildknightblaze]

people i want to get to know better

tagged by @ubejamjar, ty :3 don't know who else to tag in response so if you see this and feel like it, consider this an open invitation.

Last Song: A Risky Bet from the recent FFXIV Dawntrail raids. a little weird because my group hasn't even gotten to that part of the fight yet, but it's awesome to have in the background while I'm compiling the strategies and shit for the rest of the group. the drum & bass remixed into the song that was already burrowing into my mind bc it's essentially a Crush 40 3D Sonic theme from my adolescence is just 🤌

Favorite Color: an easy one, right? bet it's soooo hard to guess that the person whose OC has red hair and is always wearing red to the point that she looks weird in anything not red, her favorite color is red, right? trick question. my favorite color is blue. my car is blue, i'd like to paint my walls blue when i have the energy, i just find a deep naval blue to be really soothing, and probably the color i myself look best in. (turns out Ellie has her own tastes. :V)

Currently Watching: rewatching the first season of Gravity Falls because a friend mentioned it, and I never actually watched season 2, so hoping to move into that. After that I'm thinking of rolling a die to pull up something random from the backlog that's been around for years. Or maybe Arcane, idk. Or The Bear. friends have been singing the praises of The Bear.

Last Movie: The MST3k episode of Space Mutiny. A really fun time except, uh, Mike and Crow did a pretty transphobic-stereotype sketch in the middle of it. :/ Stuff made in the 90s sure was made in the 90s. At least the rest of it was pretty funny.

Sweet/Spicy/Savory: I am such a spice baby that I got an accidental order of spicy chicken nuggets a couple of days ago and they actually made me sick. >.> Sweetness is nice, but I have way less of a sweet tooth than I do for something like a homemade chicken sandwich.

Relationship Status: single

Current Obsessions: if i am not logging into FFXIV even when i have literally run out of stuff to do, i am dead. part of it is also probably how i'm - not exactly leading my raid static, but I'm the one compiling the strats and teaching them to everyone else (and then executing them wrongly to lead by bad example lmfao). Other than FFXIV though, I've been having a lot of fun with a couple of indies I picked up to delve into while recovering from surgery. Tactical Breach Wizards has a really compelling and satisfying gameplay loop and a fun story; the characters are very snarky so like if the MCU has ruined that for you that can be off-putting, but it's still better-written on average lol. I haven't delved too much into Fields of Mistria but I really want to, it's cute af. I'm also thinking it's about time for another Ace Attorney, but I'm not sure if I want to do Investigations 2 IN HD IN ENGLISH OFFICIALLY or finish Great Ace Attorney 2 ALSO IN HD IN ENGLISH OFFICIALLY... ALSO, friends have started a weekly Civilization VI night in discord in the wake of the announcement of Civ VII, and I reallllly want to deep dive into that. Many fond memories of getting lost in the easy loop of V. also missed opportunity that they didn't call it CiVIlization, or CiVIIlization.

Last Thing in My Search History: "surface pro flex keyboard deals." there are none. absolutely insane how much microsoft is charging for something like this. >:( (the "flex" is important, because turns out the normal surface pro keyboard that is already ridiculously expensive doesn't have bluetooth connectivity, which idk if your thing's approaching two hundred fucking us dollars it doesn't seem like an unreasonable expectation for it to be wireless-capable!!) i gotta stop this before i get really mad about capitalism and the tech industry

[cerine0357]

Okay. I’m here again but not in anonymous.

May I request Ramey cuddling the reader after a long tired day at school/work? Its been years since I requested something so it’s a bit nerve wracking

OC : MorningStar court :-

. Raemous X Reader

▨ Summary: Raemous is one energetic himbo demon and he knows just what a school-hating, burnt out S/O needs from him, SOME SNAPPING PEAS WITH AURORA SAUCE!!! ♡

▨ Crack, comforting, fluff, scenario || Established relationship || warnings:

▨ Author's note: This was one of the sweetest requests I've written, hopefully you'll enjoy this and thank you for requesting this and Hopefully you'll get confident in requesting Achy! Also this thing happened to me in school one day...

▨ Vocablury:

➸ Aurora sauce: a sauce made with spicy chili flakes, mayonnaise, oregano pepper, a bit of cheese sauce and a few other spices...

Peas in a pod

Raemous was in the Xiokor's music room as he was cleaning his drums and guitar while shimming to a song, before the music changed and he started to dramatically cry...Scrubbing the guitar's back like the guitar did something to Ramey as he sang embarrassingly high pitched and out of tune, "TELL ME WHY-"

"Ain't nothing but a heartache~" the lyric was completed by you as you walked in, "Hey babe!!!" Ramey said as he run and hugged you tightly as you dropping your bag and sitting near Raemous who turned off his music and put his arm around you, you sat near him as he shifted closer taking out a box of snapping peas and aurora sauce and he rambled at how some people have the absolute audacity to say he was a 7, when he's been constantly been told by you that he's a SOLID 10 all while he fed you snapping peas. You nodded you head and sighed deeply making Raemous stop,

"AND THEN HE-...Hey babe, you okay? What happened?" He asked worried as he took one snapping pea, dipped it in the aurora sauce and fed one to you and held his hand out for you to spit out the disgusting parts, and maybe the cover if you didn't like it. You did so and huffed angrily before yelling, "XIOKOR HAS THE STUPIDEST TEACHERS!!!" making Raemous flinch and stare at you weirdly as he nodded his head, while throwing the waste parts of the snapping pea into another bowl he had and wiping his hand with a wet wipe as he handed you to bowl to spit your waste of the snapping peas.

"I know!"

"Did you know, that today when I entered the class, in my regular uniform; the white one, you know?"

Ramey nodded as you continued, "Yeah, so the discipline in-charge came in and yelled at every student who wore the regular, white uniform to get out of the class and stand outside, obviously I followed Solielin, because she was also wearing the white uniform along with 80 percent of the students from out class, right?!"

"Yeah, then?!" Ramey asked

"Well, then the discipline in-charge yelled at all of us and our neighboring class, the one with 40-50 students had literally only had 5 students in their class left who wore the sports uniform, and same for the higher grades than us and all those on the floor...And then the discipline in-charge has the AUDACITY TO YELL AT US AND SAY, "Well, we told it in assembly and your teacher probably also floated the message in your online server!!! LIKE BITCH, IF SHE DID WE WOULDN'T BE WEARING THIS, WOULD WE?!"

You yelled as Ramey continued to feed you snapping peas and changing the aurora sauce according to your wishes... in between nodding and humming and agreeing with you and hyping you up..

"And then the kids who did wear the sports outfit were only wearing it because they had try out, like 99 % OF STUDENTS AREN'T IN SPORTS UNIFORM! Maybe the problem is with you?! DUMB BITCH!? And then she made us hundreds of students wait outside during revision session with Lucifer...." You said taking a deep breathe to calm down as you took a large bite from the snapping pea in Ramey's hand, almost biting his hand off as well in anger as you held his hand tightly in your grasp angrily showing his affection. Ramey slowly pulled his hand away and pat your head to calm you down

"Heyyyyy, now, I'm sure the discipline in-charge is always wrong, no message was floated on the online server, she was only yelling because she is annoying, she's always been like that! Annoying, stupid, dumb, nerdy, kind of ugly!"

Raemous says smiling brightly as he put one snap pea in his mouth which was covered in Aurora sauce, as he bit it hard a tiny branch fell from the snapping pea, you caught it between your palms as you laughed a bit at Raemous's words as he comforted you, you kissed his lips as he returned the kiss before you both snuggled next to each-other the escaped peas still in one of your hands. As Ramey goes to hold your hand, he feels the peas in your hand and gets confused, "Huh? Why are there peas in your hands?"

"They escaped when you were eating.." You explained as you opened your palm and there laid two peas connected by a branch, "Hey look, it's like us!!!" Ramey says smiling brightly, showing his huge fangs, to which you smiled and nodded your head and held the hand which had the peas with one of his hands smiling and laughing.

As you both finished insulting the discipline-incharge for being stupid, you both sat there leaning against the wall of the music room, the glass on the adjacent triangle wall showed Lucifer and Belphegor playing the drums and having fun, as you both listened to them, you started drifting off due to being tired of Xiokor today....you yawned softly before burying your face into Ramey's biker jacket, which smelt of raspberries and ash...falling asleep with the two peas tightly in between your and Ramey's hand like they are back in the pods~

@dxmoness , @juvellianovo , @crownxie , @writerig , @achy-boo , @primordixl (love the new theme), @hmerus , @1234567youmakemefeellike11ive , @honeyandbiscuitandtea-cafe , @roseadleyn , @lvmxlee (your theme looks AMAZING!)

© do not repost, but reblogging is very much appreciated and even encouraged. The story, the character and the idea is completely mine, and the pictures is also made by me.

[bihansthot]

In a non self ship update, Ani has been sending me spicy/flirty basically sexts all day he’s so in trouble when I get a hold of him. He’s not having a great mental health day so I won’t see him until Saturday or Sunday but he made sure to get me worked up. He still hasn’t decided if he’ll come to my birthday party I don’t know if party is the right word if a max of three people show up but maybe he will? It would certainly be nice having both the people I care about celebrate turning 800 million. I wish you lovelies could come celebrate with me. 🩷 I understand if he’s uncomfortable though he and my partner have never met so it’s an awkward situation. Hilariously after chatting with Ani I got an ad for an Anakin statue on Facebook and I thought it was very funny and apropos. I have a busy week of stupid lab work and doctor’s appointments next week before my actual bday on Friday, and we still haven’t booked anything yet. We’re planning on doing a Vegas in Detroit weekend because we can’t afford to go to Vegas and I’ve wanted to go for years so we’re doing the next best thing and going to the casino in downtown and staying the night if we can find boarding accommodations for Denny. I know some of you are like “Sol you’ve had months to plan this” yes we have but we had to save up money and get Denny up to date on his vaccines to be able to board him so we can’t book anywhere until tomorrow afternoon after his vet annual. So it’s all kind of last minute. Hopefully we’ll find someplace and if not we’ll just have a quiet birthday at home, my big plans for my 25th heart transplant anniversary never went anywhere so it wouldn’t really surprise me if my milestone bday doesn’t work out either my bday rarely goes well but that’s just life I guess. Either way we should still be able to have a nice dinner which is what I’m really excited about, even though I can’t eat a lot anymore. I’m only 35-40 mins from the casino so really I can go anytime if it doesn’t work out I just thought it’d be fun to have an irresponsible staycation somewhere fancy. I just wanted us all to have a fun time but I suppose we’ll see what the universe has in store for us. I really never thought I’d see this bday as I was supposed to die as a kid so it’s kind of a huge deal I just hope it’s a fun one, my last big milestone bday was my worst ever (long story short my Mother and I had a very toxic relationship at the time, she got shit faced insisted it was her bday and ruined the whole occasion) so as long as it’s better than that we’ll be good. I unofficially celebrated my bday when I was with my family earlier this week and had my favorite cake but much to my dismay my nephews were not fans of it but they loved my cooking and begged my brother to get lessons from me so that was nice. How do an 8 and 10 year old not like a caramel chocolate cake?! I guess the pecans were the problem they don’t have allergies they just don’t like nuts I guess. They’re very picky and light eaters but I guess that’s expected at that age, hell I’m a billion and am still very picky but it’s a texture issue for me not a taste one. All in all the visit was successful but my partner never got a chance to tell their Mom they’re nonbinary and use they/them pronouns and have a new name. The drive was awful, we got a speeding ticket on the way to my partner’s Mom’s and had insane traffic and weather driving back from my folks in Florida, turns out Denny barks incessantly when the windshield wipers are on 😭 We made it safely though so that’s what’s most important, I haven’t made any weight loss progress though because of all the holiday food and lack of exercise. No excuses now that my routine is back to normal, back to the elliptical and healthy foods. Just figured I’d update you lovelies on what’s going on with me, I’ll post later in the week after my cardiologist appointment to keep y’all up to date with that too. Sending lots of love.

XOXO

Sol

[plasticfangtastic]

Carnivorous Lamb Ch. 3

A Homelander x M! OC fanfic

A/N: this chapter has the spicy scene which is very dub-con so plz read at your own risk, previous 2 chapters can be found in my pin post.

Tags: R18, dub-con, Homelander being Homelander, top HL, age gap (HL mid 20's, OC in his 40's), DILF, priest kink, slow burn, moral degradation, HL is a tad ooc as he's a younger lad.

Chapter Three

Deep Winter

His penthouse was warm,  somebody had already come and decorated the room to match the holiday season– not that he felt jolly in the least. 

The days grew longer and the meetings and photoshoots blurred into each other, all he could note was the changing numbers on the calendar, his mind remained fixated on those sunken eyes that for once had color in them, thinking of going back and apologize for snooping, he thought of a million presents he could get him, of donations he could give him, he even considered remodeling the entire church if that was enough to earn forgiveness– but he never did a thing.

As he laid in his bed that strange dream would come back again.

Just the picture of Amarello fucking himself on the altar, while Homelander watched unable to move, he watched the wretched scene with pools of spit in his mouth, watched him as he got rougher with himself, tugging at his swollen cock, and staining his shirt with flicks of clear pre-cum, watching as the toy streched his cunt and dissapeared inside him.

He would always wake up the moment the man returned his gaze, before he would utter anything towards him.

His cock aching and his hand moving before he could feel any guilt.

He was a handsome man… wasted on the cloth… he was too good for the old bats to gawk at, he was too kind and gentle for them– he was his friend, and it pained him to act like this.

He shouldn’t want to fuck his friends.

He doesn’t want to fuck Noir… and Noir is pretty too.

Edgar was pretty too and he didn’t want to fuck him either.

He thought that one young nurse was pretty too and they took him away when he made the comment too, but that guy was pretty. Looking back he still thought he was beyond just pretty… pretty enough that even his tween brain noticed.

Even Mr. Marathon was pretty too but he didn’t want to fuck him... maybe.

So why did he want to fuck Amarello? Why did the thought of ripping those clothes and exposing him to himself turned him on so much? Why did he yearn for his fingers to scratch through his scalp? Why was he jerking off to the memory of his voice calling out to him.

For where the dream never showed him the next part his imagination certainly did– he would throw the toy, hold his hips in place and slam himself into him, plunging as deep as he could, let the man fuck himself for a few moments as he stood torturously still before returning the favour, his teeth biting on his neck as he panted and moaned his name, as the man clung to his shoulder– Homelander would cum over and over inside of him, filling him up until his own scent comes out of his pores.

So he didn’t go.

Afraid that this perverse desire would eat at him, threatening what little they had that he could salvage.

As the parties took place all around the building and the city, as people waved goodbye to the old year, as he watched the couples on the buildings below make out into the early mornings of the new year… he flew.

Mindlessly at first.

Realizing he wanted to catch a glimpse of him, to know he was still there.

The garden looked just as frosty as he had left it, even under the new greenhouses lids that Homelander had gifted him before the incident, surprised he had set them up without him.

A deep rich white covered the whole world, the church just sticking out as the snow rained quietly.

There he was in front of the TV asleep, a heater pointing at him and his blanket falling off his side– he would get sick, he thought.

So that was his excuse to come inside, to watch him sleep as the orange glow illuminated his features, he looked around the home. An empty bottle of good wine sat on the table but only 1 plastic cup was on the floor next to him– that box still in the closet.

He gulped as he caught sight of the contents yet again.

Knowing it wasn’t just a bitter wet dream made this much more difficult, his cock throbbing at the thought of the sleeping man mewling in his bed, of his legs splayed as he tried to reach deeper into himself, of his fingers lazily jerking his virgin cock.

He lifted the blanket off the ground, putting it carefully over him, watching him nuzzle a throw pillow as he felt the weight of the quilt press against him, thinking of how nice he had been to him, how nice his name sounded out of him.

He wanted to wake him up and ask for forgiveness.

He wanted to cry into his lap and beg him if that meant he could keep him for longer.

If that was the only way he could have his company, if he could still be around him.

“John…?”

He looked up thinking his name had come from the static.

Sleepy eyes watching groggily, rolling in discomfort to face him as best as he could, his gaze half awake, as he spotted blond locks coming undone.

His hand explored the floor until it found smudge lenses, Homelander had had plenty of time to leave but he didn’t… unsure as to why… worried about why his heart was racing so much.

“What…? What are you doing here?” He was frightened by the fact he wasn’t scared at all, all the wine still in his system, he supposed, so all he could do was lean on his elbows to try to look composed– something’s wrong?”

His feet moved on their own, sitting on the couch beside him as the man propped himself completely back up.

“Your shoulders are covered in snow… oh dear boy were you out there in the snow?” He said with genuine concern, sounding so kind and worried, his face twisting as it caught sight of melted snow– "You must be freezing!”

“Sorry… Father… I… I dunno why… why am here… am not cold… not really… its new years... h-hap…” he mumbled.

It must be a dream. It had to be a dream– the older man thought.

“Happy new years… hope you had a pleasant Christmas too…” Father Amarello said softly, cutting him off swiftly, his voice warmer than the space heater pointing at them.

“I didn’t… not really…”

“Did Voguelbaum stood you up again?” He scratched his eyes now coming to terms that this wasn’t a dream– is it something bad?”

“You don’t hate me?” His voice was pained and shrill.

He stared at the young man and how little he could see of those blue eyes in this dark room.

“Why would I? Unless you mean about that– I’m sorry I scared you… you must’ve found me disgusting.”

“No! I… I don’t! I don’t care y-y-you like men… I… I was surprised you did…” He said loudly but nervous all the same.

“I’m still made of flesh.”

He looked around for the remote, turning the tv off leaving only the light of the heater to illuminate their silhouettes, he didn’t want to see the young man’s face, much less his own, anymore.

“I always had… even when I felt the calling… it didn’t change anything but it’s not something most of my peers or my flock would approve off…”

“Because it is not natural?”

“It’s quite presumptuous for men to think God can make mistakes…” he said with mild annoyance– humans are silly… I Imagine Supes are silly like that too.”

Homelander would disagree but he dare not to, he dare not recite Voguelbaum and the other teacher’s words to this man. For their opinions began to mean very little while his still had weight to them.

“You ever been with a man?” He said nervously.

“Only in my head, I suppose…” he blushed– I’m surprised you came back at all… though you hated me.”

Homelander tilted his head trying to catch more of his features, to read him closer as he saw a hint of color on his ears.

“Who?”

“Huh?”

“Who are you thinking of?”

“I’m not following.”

“Whose the guy you’re fucking in your head.”

The tone took him by surprise, unsure if his eyes blinked red for a second, regretting cutting the only real source of light for now he was wondering if it had been a good idea.

“None of your business.” He said firmly– don’t think you can ask me things like that John, is not proper.”

“Why the fuck not?”

“Is just not!” He moved away from him– I’m glad you came back but… I think whatever is going on with you today… we can talk about it later… I’m tired John… I want to go back to sleep.”

“You’re mad at me.”

“It's three in the morning, am hungover and you want to know about my masturbation habits after disappearing on me for a month… am confused.”

“I jerk off thinking of you.”

His guts twisted as he heard him, Amarello toes curled, feeling the weight change on his couch as he fell back.

Will O'wisp came after him, leaning closer… he shrunk under him, unable to see anything but the flames in his once blue eyes– he was divine… divine like god’s wrath.

An otherworldly being disguised as one of his kin.

For once he understood he should’ve always been afraid of him just a bit.

“I didn’t know if I could come back… if you hated me…” Homelander spoke, his voice pained yet his eyes frightening.

“I don’t hate you…"

“Then why are you scared? I can smell it on you.” he whispers.

“I don’t know what you’re doing…” His body it's covered in goosebumps, as the padded knee presses between his legs.

“Is this not what those pretty men in your head do? Or do they take you out on extravagant dinners and fuck you in the Carlton?”

Amarello squirmed as his gloved hand dug under his jumper, his hands tugging at the steel arm but finding it wouldn’t move.

“Are they soft with you? Treat you like a princess… are they rough with you or do you fuck them instead?”

“John… please… stop…” he winced as he felt his slittering touch.

“You asked me to find that box on purpose, no?” Homelander whispered into his ear– you wanted me to find it… to see who you really are… telling me you never fucked a single twink in your life as if I would believe you. With this face and body of yours not a single farm boy has bent over for you?”

He moaned as his hand squeezed at his nipple, Homelander could see him so clearly, his body fit for his age, meaty where it needed to be, he squeezed at his breast regretting not taking his glove off to feel his hairy chest.

“Of course not! Now get off!!” he shouted, pushing him to no avail.

“So no man has ever made you his woman and you’ve never learned real pleasure… I am glad… am glad, father.”

Amarello could only shiver as the man took his fangs pressing them on his jugular, the little lost lamb had been something else entirely.

“Please John… ” he pleaded, feeling his tongue lick the thin skin of his neck.

“This is your fault… you invaded my mind with these thoughts of you… all you’ve done was to seduce me, no? Coming inside my dreams to tease me you perverted old man… all you did was to get me inside of you… to get me to breed you like you’ve always yearned for.”

He licked his skin, feeling his clothes ripped off, only gasping as the cold prickled his naked self, Amarello tried pushing him but the boy didn’t care, kissing his neck leaving a collar where only God could cover it, grinding against him as he adjusted the older man under him.

“I’ll fuck you real good… make you see God.” He growled against his skin, freeing his own cock, he whined as it touched his lover’s fresh bareness– I’ll make it so that toy does nothing for you, father.”

Ripping his glove off with a bite, his hand travels downwards, nails almost slicing at the tender skin, lifting the man’s leg the best he could, a hand trying to stop his fingers, jumping away from him as he takes his cock giving a few pumps.

His cock was instantly erect under the firm grip of the younger blond, Amarello mind was turning fuzzy, his body had never been touched like this, never before had his cock felt the softness of another’s hand, wiggling trying to get away from him but the lamb wouldn’t let him get anywhere, he cried as his body betrayed him, not knowing what to say to do to get the young man to listen to reason.

To stop the pleasure.

He shouldn’t feel any pleasure… this was wrong… it frightened him.

Wanting to cry and die as he pressed their cocks together, jerking the wet tips as it gushed around his skilled fingers, the squelching sounds of their mixing precum lubing their shaft was driving Homelander mad.

Amarello panted, trembling underneath him yet his hips buck following the rough motions of the younger man’s hand, aching for more friction, aching for that burn that felt too good to be normal, better than his hand could ever provide.

The boy was bigger than his toy, he was just as big as those men in the magazines, bigger than the men he fantasized in the past, so hot he was afraid it would burn him, afraid it would hurt him more… frightened by how much his stomach burn with anticipation and curiosity, wanting to know if it would happen… if this boy would make him his bitch like the men in his head always did, but this was scary, this wasn’t that same sweet boy… whose pretty face could make flowers bloom.

He doesn’t know how long he’s been doing this with him, all he knows it's that he’s somehow in his bed writhing under him, the pain it's nothing but a buzz replaced with something too close to the divine, as the boy kisses him, as their tongues mingled and that everytime he resist he gets rougher, spouting taunts, all he knows is that if he’s gives him sweetness the boy calm downs, Homelander slowed down the moment he started kissing him, he takes his time with every thrust, holding him delicately.

Taking him as if he remembered he was dealing with a virgin.

He doesn't know when he made it to the bed, only that Homelander makes it all go so painfully slow and quick at the same time.

His body covered in sores and love bites, his stomach so full and hot.

“Don’t leave me…”

Amarello looks at him, at the tears in his eyes, the boy kissing him until their jaws are aching, as his hips fill him, keeping it all inside not wanting to dirty the sheet with anything but sweat and love.

“You won’t leave me now… you’re mine now…” that's all he wants to say until he dies.

John wakes up from his trance, the voice so far away, he knows he’s mocking him, wanting him to get rid of this problem already, all he can do its look at the man spasing under him, at his bruised lips, at the handprints on his hips and thighs, at the bites on his torso under his torn jumper.

Is this why he took over…? he thought in a panic.

“I can’t… I can’t be normal can I?” He asked somebody who wasn’t in the room.

“... I’m sorry… it… it's my fault.”

His arms reach for the blond, pulling him close, keeping him where he can’t see him, wanting to stroke his head to soothe him.

“I never meant to confuse you, my son.”

He whispered.

Looking… never pleased with just looking, this is how he ended up like this, always wanting more, he should’ve kept his desires at bay and pray them away but he indulged again, this poor boy who was a gift from God now confused and dirty.

He must’ve wanted to seduce him, that’s why he never pushed his hands, that’s why he laughed at his bad jokes, that’s why he never turned him away, that’s why he was so happy to see him.

“I’m so sorry… father… please forgive me.” He whimpered sobbing into his shoulder.

Pure like snow.

Now Homelander looked so dirty covered in him.

[bugbxyjunk]

hello cj. my name is oliver. you may know me as ollie of @ollieollieoxenfreeee.

answer all 100 of the questions. every single one. do it.

bet.

2. what’s the weather like?

Humid and veryyy warm, but much cooler than it has been!!

3. are you impulsive?

yes, oh my god yes, its a really bad problem

4. are you organised?

no but i am trying!!

5. are you self confident?

HAH. thats funny. no

8. what’s something you hate about yourself?

uhhh not to get all edgy but my like entire self of being? in specific probably my body. or my scars. really hate those.

9. do you have any pets?

Yes! 3, my babies 🥹

10. do you have any regrets?

too many to count man

11. do you have any siblings?

yes, 2 technically. but. i only say one

12. what do you think comes after life?

death, probably

13. what colour is your water bottle?

mainly blue, its git sharks on it :3

14. have you ever dyed your hair/would you ever want to?

its actually dyed rn

16. do you believe in aliens?

YES

17. do you believe in ghosts?

YES

18. do you believe in karma?

yes, actually

19.do you believe in astrology?

ehh kinda? not really, but i also don't know a lot about it

20. do you believe in luck?

Yeah

21. what is/was your favourite subject in school?

Not to be That Stereotypical Person™ but definitely art

22. what is/was your least favourite subject in school?

Math. i hated the class, i hated the teacher, i suck at it, and ive never been good at it.

23. how long have you been friends with your longest friend for?

Considering i only have one stable friendship, almost 3 years i think? maybe 2 and half

24. what do you do in your free time?

i have too much free time in the summer, and lately ive just been on my phone and listening to music/watching YouTube

25. what do you do under stress?

Cry? Panic?? okok fr though if theres a more suitable leader i let them handle things and panic quietly, but if i have to take the lead i can, then i fall apart afterwards. by myself. away from anyone else, of course of course

26. who/what do you turn to to vent?

okok honestly? no one? i mean i go to J (irl friend for those that don't know) for smaller/easier to handle things. but. really i try to deal with everything alone

27. spicy, sweet or savoury?

Sweet, probably

28. what’s your favourite drink?

Strawberry watermelon Ice drinks 🙏

29. what’s your favourite cuisine?

cuisine is so fancy for what I'm about to say, my mom's Alfredo shits delicious

31. what are you wearing right now?

women's beach shorts that r wayyy too big and a grey oversized Harley Davidson shirt

32. what’s your favourite time of day?

Night time !!

33. who do you trust the most?

My mom or J

34. do you trust anyone completely?

Nah

35. would you ever want to get married?

Noooo thank u im good

36. would you ever want children?

NO. i will b the uncle to J's kids, i shouldn't be allowed my own kids i can barely keep myself alive

37. do you have any allergies?

Pollen. and i think caramel??? i don't know i cannot eat that shit

38. do you hate anyone?

Yes

40. what is your relationship with your family like?

Pretty good now, it was pretty rocky for a bit and well childhood was. something. but its great now, my immediate family is my priority in life

41. what is your middle name?

Next question

44. do you like making art?

Yes! its kinda like therapy. and much cheaper.

45. do you believe in the death penalty?

Yeeesh thats a heavy question dontcha think? i think if you're a r--pis- yeah fuck the fuck right the fuck off. I do not care. but i don't think im allowed to speak beyond that, im not qualified

46. do you follow routines/plans easily?

I actually prefer them, i get overwhelmed without them

47. growing up, what did you want to do in life?

I wanted to be a pretty woman with a husband and children and be a vet, a lot has changed since then

48. what is your favourite album?

i don't think i really have one? i don't really pay attention to names/albums on what im listening to, i just enjoy the music. this is why music connoisseurs hate me

49. what’s something you’re grateful for?

My mama 🫶🫶

50.what’s a food you hate?

Tomatoes. for various reasons.

51. would you rather lose your legs or arms?

uhhhhhhhh legs? i guess??

52. what is the most important thing to you right now?

Getting ny shit together for school so i can get a good fuckin scholarship

53. what’s the last dream you remember having?

Something about my grandfather? and a train. it definitely had something to do with something I don't like digging up sooo

54. do you believe in soulmates/true love?

I guess, yeah i do. i think ive met mine, since they aren't always romantic. twin flame is the platonic version i think?

55. what is your favourite word?

Shark, maybe. Or like, Slippery, funky ass word

56. would you rather be loved, trusted or respected?

Loved or trusted, people don't respect me much already so like i can handle not being respected

57. would you want to be famous if you had the chance?

Depends i guess, id like act in something that sees people one day, so sure why not

58. what are/were you like in school?

Horribly quiet, and awkward, and clumsy. and also 'intimidating'

59. who’s the last person you talked to?

J my bbg 🫶🫶🫶

60. what would your perfect day be like?

Getting adequate sleep, spending the day at an aquarium with a loved one(romantic, platonic, queer platonic, i don't care), swimming, or just laying quietly with a lover, i don't need much to be Happy

61. where is a place that you’d love to visit?

THE GEORGIA AQUARIUM !!

62. what is your main goal in life?

Help as much of the ocean and sea life as i can, they're vital to this planet and just as important to take care of.

63. do you exercise often?

Not as much as i should, no

64. do you play any sports?

Im gonna be on the swim team again! i was on it in 8th grade

65. do you play any instruments?

Nah, but im gonna learn bass

66. what is your earliest memory?

Uhhhhhhhhhhhhh i don't wanna talk about it so lets say getting my first build a bear from my aunt

67. if you could have a superpower, what’d you choose?

Shapeshifting.

68. what kind of person annoys you the most?

Uhh people who assume they're better than you for "xyz reason"

69. what is your biggest pet peeve?

People who talk in the middle of tests, or people that are rude to cashiers/customer service people for no reason

70. what’s your favourite number?

13

71. have you ever been in love?

Yeah, and i sometimes i feel like i still am

73. what is your deepest fear?

damn this is getting personal jeez, death? serious sickness/ailments, and doctors. also my half brother and his ex gf

74. have you ever met anyone famous?

i don't think so

75. cats or dogs?

Cats!!

77. how do you deal with loneliness?

uhh im kinda used to it, but if i ever cant deal w it i get into the shower and crank the knob all the way to hot

78. what’s your favourite animal?

is this a real question. SHARKLSKSKSKSKKSKKSHSJDHH!!!!!!!

80. would you rather freeze or burn to death?

uhhhhhhh burn? i feel like it'd be quicker maybe

81. what are some of your bad habits?

Biting my mouth, picking the skin on my fingers, and yk other things

82. what do you do when you’re angry?

Yell, hit my pillow, get in the shower and crank the knob all the way to hot. cry.

83. what is something that you’d want to learn?

Astronomy

84. what’s your favourite insect?

hmmmm Picasso beetle, they pretty

85. what are your thoughts on euthanasia?

god, its sad but sometimes if there's no other answer it might be best? like if my baby, my dog, had an incurable thing thay made life a pain for her every day and she wouldn't/couldn't get better i wouldn't want her to be in pain. i never want to see any of my animals in oain

86. what are your thoughts on your name?

Love it, thought of it myself, just wish id come up with Cj first instead of what other people know me as irl (Corey/ my deadname)

87. what’s your favourite name?

My favorite name..hmmmm...i don't know, i love all names, they're special in a way that I cant choose a single best one

88. would you rather go back or forward in time?

Back, i suppose..fix some things yk?

89. what are your thoughts on roller coasters?

I don't know, its been years sinec ive been on one

91. do you believe in love at first sight?

Nah, i don't think you can love someone instantly. you can experience attraction at first sight, but i genuinely don't think you can love someone at first glance. unless its an animal, then obviously yes.

92. what is something you’re currently worried about?

School, life, my friend, my mom

93. what was your childhood like?

Ehhhhhhhhhhhhhhh lets not open that can of worms

94. how long do you usually sleep for?

when i di get to sleep? around 10 hours in the summer 💀, usually around 3-6 during school

95. what hairstyle do you have right now?

something like this

(NOT ME!!!!! found on Pinterest)

96. if you could be one age for the rest of your life, what’d you choose?

uhh probably like 25? maybe?? idk

97. what genre of music do you listen to the most?

Uhhh pop..indie i guess? musicals too

98. where do you come from?

The US 🇺🇸🦅🦅🦅

99. do you curse/swear often?

Yes i do

100. what is the meaning of life?

Boys kissing me.

[estoysugoi]

Since this account is “dead” im vomiting some spicy brain stuff here (deleting later):

I feel fucking boarderline fucking devastated i havent seen my friends in WEEKS, im afraid to reach out bc i feel like i did smth wrong or im not being a good friend but if i ask if that’s the case i risk making things awkward and/or upsetting them somehow and i dont want that and my brain is being spicy with bad thoughts and im constantly digging my finger into myself for not meeting my expectations as an artist AND a full grown ass adult there’s so many things i need but i feel overwhelmed about what to do and asking people i know for help feels like im burdening them and taking valuable time out of their busy schedules and they may not even be able to help me in the first place, which is one of the reasons why i barely ask my dad for help since he’s always busy and the rest of my immediate family either have their plates full or can’t actually help me for whatever reasonable reason so i need to learn how to do things myself i just dont know where to start or what resources to refer to. We live in an age where information is act ur fingertips and I STILL cant push myself to look for a simple tutorial i dont know whats wrong with me my brain is fucked up and im worried that i have some kind of executive dysfunction i dont know how to go about it outside of just setting good habits, like how we develop hygienic rituals everyday, i just need to put in the effort to build some kind of well planned schedule or something maybe then i can get a fucking grip at improving my life let alone my skills as an artist i keep taking so fucking long to do what feels like mediocre work and i want to improve so bad but for some reason i do all this thinking and imagining and planning ideas out but my body can never move something’s wrong with me and i dont know what to do i sometimes get scared if im not bottleing up anger towards myself as i just sit there and vegetate im just so tired of being tired and not doing anything worthwhile with my life i just want to be better i want to feel better and i just need to do better i dont know i just dont know how else to go about it aside from vomiting words like this there needs to be some kind of outlet for all this noise its almost like gossip through old walls with peeling wallpaper and i hate it i hate that i keep imagining the worst situations like im trying to prepare to feel ready and making plans for what i could do in hypothetical stressful situations. I think that’s just a by-product mechanism i developed after losing my mom suddenly, i kept thinking that she would be ok and come back from the hospital but things just got worse and more machines and tubes and wires filled her hospital bed until she couldnt take it anymore one day. There have been days where i could even feel what she experienced while being trapped like that its terrifying and im scared to think about it even if it comes from a habit of trying to understand others by placing myself in their feet and dont get me started what i imagined what my dad went through and my brother and my mom’s sisters and brothers and her mother i dont know how things didnt get worse than they did. Ok maybe things still turned sour but i guess thinking it could’ve been worse is just me excusing the circumstances that a part of me feel did me wrong like some kind of injustice i didnt deserve to go through all that and neither did my family. But i think whats worse was the divide that formed im part to blame for that but i dont know how to connect with people that are like 40 years older than me i dont know their past that well and they dont want to burden me with their pasts so im just left to pick up hints and pieces. But how can i find the help i need when im still overcome with an old desire im trying to let die finding a romantic happily ever after was never in the cards for me to begin with im not conventionally attractive enough for my type to be attracted to me nor am i in a good place to be dating or risking my heart to get broken again i just dont think i can bear that pain of loss in another form i fear it woul break me so now im-

[tuxxer]

Connecting the dots on Sabine

So the show is over and we are waiting on the second season, be it S2 of Ahsoka or does it blend into one of the shows that are supposed to be coming out.

So lets look back at Season 5 of rebels, or as some people like to call it, Season 1 of Ahsoka. All of the characters and even Zeb in Mando seem to be more or less on point. New Characters like Baylon (rip) and Shin brought the spicy meat balls to the show and universe.

So who got ripped off, Yup, Sabine. If your a reb fan, one of things that i felt aggrieved over was that Sabine had her agency stolen. If anyone could go toe to toe with a jedi and win, its our girl. Bring out the guns and the jetpack and let her go to town.

Buuuuuuuuuuuuuuut nooooooooooo, they give our girl a pig sticker and turn her into a bumbling idiot no different than Dinesh on Obi Wan. So how do we deconstruct the reasoning behind this decision.

Ahsoka is around 35 to 40 years old and has been classically trained by the jedi temple. One would assume that she knows force users, beyond someone of Han Solo's ability. We then find out from huyang that they split right after the empire glassed mandalore and Ahsoka's Jedi bullshit did not quite sit right with Sabine.

So the band gets back together and eventually goes on a road trip to Peridea. So Sabine meets up with Ezra and feels like the coyote when he finally catches the road runner, for some reason the reality does not meet the dream.

Ahsoka finally catches up after catching the uber whale and has to dial in Sabine with the force, hmmm curiouser and curiouser. So lets maybe take a leap of faith and assume that Sabine is a trainable user, but Ahsoka not wanting to train a weapon of mass destruction (see Mandalore getting glassed and Sabines family getting blown to component atoms.) flips Sabines switch that turns off or makes her forget to access her jedi powers.

One has to assume that the Jedi temple had to have a way of dealing with knights that have gone astray and making them safe, seems reasonable. So once she dialed in Sabine with the force, Ahsoka flipped the switch again, and now she magically has powers.

Bottom line is that a few well placed lines from the writers may have been able to explain Sabine's magical transformation a lot better

[inkforged]

I had a spicy dream the other night and I can't stop thinking about it.

Not the spicy bit, I mean a little, but every once in a while I will have a spicy dream and for the next week or so I'm more depressed than usual.

It's not because of the sex, it's the intimacy that I'm craving. The close and precious relationship that I've only ever witnessed, but never experienced. I've dated and I've had sex. None of those experiences were romantic, lasting, or satisfying.

Dreams like that remind me of the year before my older sister's wedding. On June 28th, 2013 we were stuffing envelopes for my sister's wedding and I was talking about if I needed a plus one. My mom said, "You have a full year, you never know what can happen in a year." On June 28th, 2024, it will be 11 years since my mom and I had that conversation and I'm still the lonely, never-loved, touch-starved hopeless romantic that dreamed of having a plus one. I have more pressing worries these days

I also turn 30 in 26 days and THAT is fucking terrifying. Everything I was pressured to accomplish in my 20s has slipped through my fingers. This last year has set me so far back, that I can't catch my breath. I don't have a solid career, I moved back in with my parents, I'm still very very single, and I don't have any hope of having children soon.

Now, I hear all of you saying "But you're still so young. You have time!" Do I really?

I have PCOS, the chances of me easily conceiving a child are slim. I don't want to be a 40 year old new mom, and I don't want to rush any relationship just to beat my biological clock.

Then maybe I think that I wasn't meant to have children. I can live with that. I have nieces and nephews and you best believe I'm going to achieve my goal of getting a Bernese mountain dog. What I can't live with is being alone for the rest of my life.

It's hard to paint a picture for those who have never experienced long-term or chronic singleness. It's not just lonely, it's painful. Have you ever craved touch? Not sexual touch, but someone holding your hand, playing with your hair, caressing your face? I swear I can FEEL my skin aching for touch. I want to be held and cuddled. And I feel absolutely pathetic for still struggling with this after all of these years. My feminist brain wants to declare that I don't need a man and I'm strong and independent and can do anything and that's still true, but it doesn't mean I don't WANT it.

I want to know what it feels like to be loved and cherished. Not objectified, fetishized, or made to feel less. I want the romance. I've never received flowers from a man, which is dumb, but it'd be nice. I want someone to know my coffee order and randomly show up just because they want to spend time with me. I want to watch my favorite movies with them and have a show that we watch together. I want to go on dates and not be hidden away because they are ashamed to be seen with a plus size woman.

I don't want anymore milestones to be met and lost without a person to call mine.

I've put myself out there, I've been on the dating apps over and over again and I just know it's not for me. It's going to be impossible, but I think I'm only going to meet someone the organic way.

I've looked forward to every stage of my life, sure that this would be my time. In college, after college, new environments, new groups, new cities, new churches, and every time I've been disappointed. I'm not surprised though. I was called fat to my face last week so it's not a mystery WHY I'm still single. I just wish that I was enough. I know that if I were to lose all the weight, I'd be more attractive on the surface, but it would still take surgeries to look normal. I would have to get my loose skin removed and things lifted. Even then, I'd be scarred and saggy in places. I'd probably still deal with my PCOS beard and have a new slew of insecurities to deal with. I just want me to be enough for someone because I'm never going to be beautiful. There will always be something monstrous about me.

This all feels very desperate and cringy, but when your heart wants something so bad, it's hard to ignore. When I dream of a kiss or kindness from a man it just reminds me of what I don't and probably will never have. It breaks my heart.

Living is hard enough, I can't imagine doing this by myself for the rest of my life. I mean, I guess I can, but it's not something I'm prepared for. I know life isn't fair, but it can't be THIS unfair. Why was I dealt this hand? I often wonder if I was created to show people what their life could look like so that they don't take it for granted.

I don't know, but I hope not.

[returntosaturn271995]

Friday, October 20th: Later that night

So I went ahead and did everything I said I was going to. Spicy fig mayo, folding laundry, reading, and 20 minutes of yoga.

Turns out, with that kept promise, I have hit 100 days of yoga this year so far. (I started in February, took a month off in August before I resubscribed end of September). That's close to one out of three days I stretched and I have the rest of the year to up the number.

In the "Defining Decade" chapter, I read about how essentially before thirty is the time to get more diligent and less neurotic before it sets in. Taylor Tomlinson once referred to it as getting garbage out of the lake before it freezes over. Self-confidence is trust that we can get the job done.

Maybe that's why I feel like my progress is so fragile sometimes, that I'm only as good as my last success. Confidence comes from successes and failures. Surviving both and having a growth rather than a fixed mindset. I knew I could do 20 minutes of yoga today because I had done 40 before. I knew I could run my 5 K because I had done it before.

Confidence is the result of a struggle, not the absence of one. It's the result of not having something and then working until you have it. You know you have it because you remember how you got it. That's why the shin splint scares me, because I worry if I don't run for a week or two, my progress will slip. But that doesn't erase the 47 runs I did this year and I started the last couple days of July.

It's fragile and new. But I'm resilient. I can rewire. I can grow. Eventually, I need to relax, not cling to the habits I once half-heartedly committed to. Let a few things go and keep what matters.

Today I hit a landmark. Of all kinds.

And it was also a day that wasn't my best mentally to start...and to middle.

I can still trust myself on these days. Treat myself like a sim character, stepping away from my thoughts and freaking out, and just working to turn my little diamond thing green.

[lindsaystravelblogs3]

Days 56-57 – Wednesday-Thursday, 19-20 July Back in Athens

Wednesday

We woke a bit earlier than usual, so did our final disembarkation packing before breakfast. We had to be out of our cabin by eight o’clock but we were well on our way to collect our big bags and catch a taxi to our central Athens hotel by then.

We checked in before 9am but our room was not expected to be available until 3pm, so we sat and used their Wi-Fi for a while before going out for a stroll.   It was predicted to be more than 40 degrees today so walking was pretty uncomfortable.   It has been close to, or in, the 40s for over a week – and promises worse for the next week.

There was some sort of demonstration a hundred metres up the road - no idea what it was about but we detoured a bit to ensure we didn’t get tangled up in it anyway.  We have a couple of tours we want to do while we are here and had noticed that the HOHO people were advertising them when we were here before, so we walked up there and checked them out.  As it turned out, it was cheaper to book direct via the website, so we did quite a bit more research in our room and booked three tours over the next week or so – one to Ancient Corinth, one to Delphi, and a Three-Island cruise next week.

We strolled down the street, basically shuffling from shadow to shadow to avoid the direct sunlight, and ate lunch at a small café not far from the hotel.  We sat around in the cool of the restaurant as long as we politely could, but they had no Wi-Fi, so we decided to return to our hotel and use the service there.  Fortunately, we had only been in the foyer for ten minutes or so when they said our room was ready so off we went.  It is certainly a lot better than our previous hotel, so spending the extra dollars was probably a good decision.  We got ourselves moderately organised but decided that we had done enough for the day, and would do the rest of our unpacking and reorganisation tomorrow.  It is surprising how much effort goes into getting ourselves organised and comfortable every time we move when on the road – one of the big advantages of caravan travel!

We went out to dinner to a Chinese restaurant that we had seen on our earlier walk.  After all the bland food we had on the ship, we were both hanging out for something with a bit of flavour, and the Chinese menu delivered in spades.  We both had a spicy soup and I followed that with Spicy Pork while Heather had a huge plate of Fried Rice, half of which we brought home in a container for lunch tomorrow.  What a wonderful touch of spice, after all that French cuisine.

Thursday

We had a lay-day today.  We walked around the local shops and down into the Flea Market.  We walked the length of it as well as detouring up and down a few side-alleys, but it is not as big as I expected and Heather said it is a lot different from when she was here all those years ago.  We never saw any fleas and everything is now insid, or around the doorways, of newish-looking shops, including a couple of more up-market clothing outlets than I expected to see in a Flea Market.  It really didn’t have the flair or colour I expected, but maybe that is a sign of the times.  Some of the places we passed near our former hotel aligned much closer to my expectations, but we never explored them much, partly because I thought we would see similar things around this hotel.

We purchased a few things at the supermarket on the way home and spent the rest of the afternoon inside.  Our lunch was the delicious leftover fried rice from last night, supplemented by a roll constructed from some of our morning’s shopping.

One of Heather’s Facebook friends had stayed at the (slightly more upmarket) hotel next to ours a few weeks ago and she had recommended a Korean restaurant in the street next door, so we went there for more spicy food for dinner.  We both had another spicy soup for entree and I can’t remember what I had as my main, but it was spicy and delicious and I enjoyed every tiny morsel.  Maybe our tastes have changed over the years, but I certainly enjoy stronger flavours with a bit of bite much more than I did a few years ago.

[henqtic]

21 and 40 in kisses with rafe please 🥺

authors note: ofc and thanks for requesting <33 // this turned out way longer than i expected lol

prompt/s: we'll face this together kisses + tummy kisses

NO MATTER WHAT;

join my sleepover <3 (closing tomorrow night so flood me with blurb request <33)

pairing: fanon!rafe cameron x reader

summary: no matter what ever amount of lines would show up on the stick, rafe promised you would be in this together— no matter what.

word count: 1.0k (1009). | warnings: teen pregnancy— pretty sure rafe is 19 in the show so they're not too young, some angst but mostly fluff

your teeth sunk down into the worn nail of your thumb once more, cracking every knuckle possible in your fingers, running your hands over your face and through your hair.

it had to be nearly the twentieth time the cycle went around in just one minute, the one you gave yourself to process after peeing on a stick you and rafe had just got from cvs in a cloud of uncomfortable silence and then washed your hands, slowly, making sure to give yourself just a little more time before having to open the door.

you had agreed to do it together, see whether a single line would show up and dismiss all of your worries or if a twin would come along with it and confirm them all.

you should've known this would happen, you and rafe weren't exactly the most careful pair in the world— not caring about what was ahead but simply trying to live in a moment.

careless, that's what you were.

now you were in the bathroom, going through all of the ways you attempted to deny it yourself— all of the morning sickness for nearly a week and a half, pushing away the eggs along with the breakfast he would make every morning. 

scrunching your nose at the recipe of chocolate chip cookies you had made together one night in junior year, it being more chocolate chip than cookie itself.

you knew it was overly sweet but it had never bothered you until then.

and the throwing up at the sole smell of the extreme spicy noodles topper brought over to tanneyhill for you to all try two days ago when you'd usually have a high tolerance for those sorts of things.

rafes holding back of your hair, telling you that whatever seasoning they put in it probably just irritated your nose and that you could put a clamp on it when it was your turn really making it click.

you didn't do that of course, you went up to his room and fell asleep. but still, even with all of those things you could've just brushed off as your taste changing, your period hadn't been there that whole time and more— today marking three and half weeks. 

the possibility of it somehow becoming irregular again being thrown straight out the window and you finally fessing up to rafe about it all, the thing that started all of this.

you don't even think he processed it himself, immediately pulling you into a tight hug at the confession and digging his head deep into the crook of your neck so you wouldn't hear his heavy sigh.

both of you not knowing what the manner of it was, just that neither of you wasn’t anything close to being ready for it, not mature or responsible enough— but maybe you could be.

“is it okay for me to come in now?” you heard him ask from the other side of the door, head resting against the wood seeing as he never left, probably using the time to contemplate all of the things you were.

you moved from your spot with a determined breath, turning the knob and allowing him to come in, your attention automatically diverting away from his soft gaze and to any other part of the room as you waited.

“y/n?” he asked after a few quiet moments, wanting to get you to look at him instead, not trying for much longer before simply grabbing your shoulders and moving your chin so that you were eye to eye.

both of them riddled with hints of red from rubbing at them gnawed at bottom lips, and looks of worry engraved into both of your faces— his just being more out of worry of the right words to say to you to make it all better.

“look, i love you and no matter what the result is, i still am. and— and if you decide that you wanna keep it, we can, we’ll work through it together. i’m not letting you go through this alone,” he promised, soothing you further by rubbing his thumbs on the apples of your cheeks, not getting any further than your mouth moving from side to side before you simply shook him away.

“rafe c’mon, be realistic— we’re still teenagers, both of us live with our parents and neither of us have anything remotely close to a stable job,” you ranted in one breath, more tears welling in your eyes but cooling down once you saw the drop in his hopeful expression with a huffing sigh, “we can’t, even if we wanted to, we’re not ready for this.”

crying, you were sobbing at this point— falling into his body as he held you tight in his arms again and allowed you to do so freely.

after a minute or two, the cries becoming softer, he pulled you away— wiping at your face before kissing all the wetness away. all of your face, little pecks getting left before he landed on your lips.

“we’ll face this together,” he mumbled against them, the smile on your face becoming straightened.

“are you one hundred percent sure though?” you pressured on, biting your lip at the chance that his mind may just change in the seconds given.

the cameron’s alone weren’t the most hospitable people out there and if one of their songs didn’t want to raise a child born out of wedlock, he probably wouldn't.

but your eyes only became pooled in with love as he dipped down from standing over you, down to his knees so that he could place small kisses into your stomach, faint mutters but you could still understand them well enough— “no matter what.”

your smile grew again, nearly ear to eat as you started to feel a little better about it all— only faltering by the slightest bit as he asked the question of what the result was, your eyes closing with a squeeze, knowing that no matter what it said, it would change your relationships entirely.

“positive.”

🔖—!! @velqvet @pogueslandia @jemimah-b99 @darklingbrekksov @lieswithoutfairytales @badbussylol @lieswithoutfairytales @a-bolanos @vinniehcker @drewstarkeysbitchh @supernaturallydc-blog @victoriadeangeliswifey @nehireerdogan @canibeoneofthepogues @clearbolts @urskaa @i-love-scott-mccall @joeybslut @jellyddog 

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[confessionsof-a-writing-freak]

I Don't Wanna Be a Memory

Summary:

“Well, I’m not just your boss!”, Steve hears himself say, “I’m not just your boss. I’m also an omega. And I want you to tell me what to do. Your voice is like it’s permanently in alpha command, and I want you to fucking command me! Because I’m not just your boss. I’m not just an omega. I’m your fucking omega! And I can’t stand you saying my name like you’re seconds away from telling me to get down on my knees because you never do!

And it isn’t your fault! It’s not! You don’t want me anymore, and that’s fine, but my omega hasn’t forgotten, and my heart won’t forgive you for not loving me anymore. So stop. Stop saying my name like you still want me. Because every time you do, I feel like you’ve come back to me, but you haven’t- you won’t! And it’s killing me, Buck.”

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33385405

Rating: Explicit

Ship: James 'Bucky' Barnes/Steve Rogers

Additional tags: A/B/O Dynamics, Alpha bucky!, Omega Steve!

Bucky’s voice is the single most dangerous weapon he possesses.

Not the guns, or the knives, or even the years of government-issued muscle memory in hand-to-hand combat could compare the carnage that rubbles and quakes the earth when he says Steve's name.

“Stevie,” Low and silky. Full of authority-full of alpha. But still understanding the difference in rank despite the apparent superiority in designation. Never challenging or speaking down, but fuck did it make Steve want to sink to his knees and watch Bucky fall apart due to his mouth for a change.

“Steve?”

Okay, maybe not the entire earth, but Steve’s world sure feels like it’s been turned on its axis.

“...Steve.”

The worst part of it all is Bucky has no idea. No clue. No motivation! He simply exists and speaks like that with no intention of letting his voice get all severe and appetizing for the purpose of getting Steve’s omega excited for Bucky's alpha.

It’s especially distracting during missions.

Steve’s heart races, his conscious thought nowhere to be found as he conjures up impossible scenarios involving his reformed assassin best friend and naked cuddling.

The second they boarded the Quinjet, Steve had torn the earpiece away as if it had burned him.

Can you imagine leading a team or keeping them safe when every so often your second in command asks for your position, voice rough as he asks Steve for orders?!

Can anyone really blame him for getting lost in the phantom sensations of Bucky saying his name like a secret no one else deserves to know?

He didn’t think so.

That being said, all the control he can muster in order to actually complete a mission evaporates into the wind the moment the dance between life and death comes to a close; every suppressed, shameless fantasy unleashed and unforgiving as they consume his every thought.

Steve is abruptly pulled from his most recent daydream when a cool metal hand taps the back of his wrist twice, “You with us, Steve? I’ve been calling your name for a minute now.”

Quickly, Steve straightens his back and squares his shoulders, meeting stormy grey eyes.

“Sorry, Buck. Had a lot on my mind.”, He says with more confidence than he actually has.

It’s not really a lie. He does have a lot on his mind, all the ways he can find himself face down, ass up on the other man’s bed. Drooling and crying and breathing in Buckys scent with every breath he takes.

Of course, he can’t very well say that, can he?

He was lucky the S.H.I.E.L.D issued, super soldier approved suppressants made him nearly null. He can’t fathom the level of embarrassment that would claim him if Buck- or the whole damn plane for that matter- could scent the desperation, horny inside of him.

Bucky shifts closer, grey eyes softening the tiniest bit with concern, “Is everything alright?”

No.

“Yes, of course, “ He lies, “Just thinking about battle techniques is all. Scouts honor!” Steve makes an odd, incorrect gesture as a mock salute.

Bucky allows a small huff of air Steve recognizes as his poor imitation of a chuckle. There’s a moment of fuzzy pride that nearly causes Steve to purr; happy he brought a smile to the alpha’s face before his stomach drops clear down to his toes as murmured laughter rumbles too close to a growl in Buckys chest.

“My memory may be shit, Stevie, but I know for damn sure you weren’t no boy scout.”

Aaaand there it is.

Stevie.

Steves omega stirs and preens before the captain shoves them back down. Resenting the butterflies crying out in his belly and the urge to beg Bucky to just say his name over and over and over…

“Steve?”, This time, the concern isn’t quite as subtle, “Are you sure you’re alright, pal?” Bucky takes a step closer towards the blonde, drawing out skittish blue eyes, lowering his voice in case anyone was listening.

Again, the omega clears his throat and squares his shoulders.

“Did you want to tell me something, Sargent?”

Bucky opens his mouth, defiance dancing on his tastebuds before something makes him snap it shut, offering a curt nod, “Yes, Captain.” His voice strained, everything he wants to say lodged in his throat.

“I just wanted to let you know that we should be landing in less than 15 minutes.”

Like before, Bucky opens his mouth to say something but thinks better of it. Choosing instead to take a seat beside his captain, slipping his arms through the provided harness. He gives Steve a pointed look, “We should probably buckle up.”

For a moment, Steve is taken back to the war. When his body was just beginning to react to the serum and the increased suppressants. (The government had taken every percussion necessary to ensure the public wouldn’t know Captain America was an omega.)

After Steve became ‘big’ and outranked Bucky in the military, the brunette never did anything but follow him into the fire. Loyal and boundless. Never questioning his strategies or actions unless it put him in direct danger. That didn’t mean he could keep himself from telling Steve what to do. He just found different ways to do it.

Suggesting tasks, like putting on seatbelts, for instance. Strapping extra weapons to his ankles before handing one to Steve and forcing it into his hands even when the blonde would roll his eyes, whispering his disapproval so only he would hear.

Never raising his voice or permitting his tone to deepen or his scent to take on that spicy, electric feel that never failed to make Steve bare his neck. Never stepping out of line. Never disrespecting or demeaning Steves title. Always in charge anyway.

Bucky doesn’t utter a single command or request, but Steve buckles up anyhow. Drinking in the small, hardly there smile that Bucky offers to the air in front of him, not even meeting Steve’s gaze. And the omega hates the happiness, the relief he feels at satisfying Bucky.

Hates that Bucky doesn’t even have to tell him what to do for him to obey. Hates that he has to obey, even though Bucky doesn’t need him to anymore.

He doesn’t need him anymore...

Bucky still hasn’t said a word when they land, but it’s not like Steve gave him much of an opportunity.

Things have been strained between them since Steve began pulling away. Avoiding Bucky’s calls and limiting their time together.

It was just easier that way. Miserable and lonely, but easier.

The moment the Quinjet is stationary, the supersoldier is up on his feet and stomping down the runway, leaving the Avengers and Bucky behind him.

He needs to breathe.

He can’t breathe!

If he didn’t know any better, he would say he was having an asthma attack. It feels like an asthma attack.

Steve’s eyes sting with unshed tears, taking large gulps of air into his lungs, and it burns!

He arrives at his door by the grace of God, not remembering entering the tower or if he passed anyone on his way.

“Jarvis. Door.” He gasps. Actual fear starting to seep into his bones.

“Yes, Captain Rogers,” The AI responds, the oversized steel doors swinging open.

Distantly, Steve hears the door shut behind him and feels himself settle against a wall. He pushes his back against the surface and tries to even out his breathing. Revisiting everything he can remember about how to resolve an asthma attack.

After several attempts, he stumbles into a somewhat consistent breathing pattern, his chest heaving at a slower rate.

In through the nose. Out through the mouth. In through the nose. Out through the mouth. In through the nose…

It’s not working!

Steve’s heartbeat only hammers against his chest and neck quicker, his breathing sharply turning back into hyperventilation.

It’s then that he realizes he isn’t having an asthma attack at all. He’s having a panic attack.

Fuck, Fuck, Fuck.

In through the nose. Out through the mouth. InthroughthenoseOutthroughthemouth.

Why isn’t this working!?

The blonde clenches his eyes shut, a sob fighting its way past trembling lips. He feels so alone. So unwanted, Unwarranted.

He thinks back to the 40s- back to him and Bucky. After the serum, during the war. Hidden behind the cover of night and an abandoned building at the far end of Base. The first time since the change, his heart felt like it would crawl its way up Steves throat and swan dive right off his tongue.

Struggling to ease the fogginess in his mind, Steve remembers strong arms wrapped around his waist. Cool metal poking his nose as he bumped Bucky’s dog tags with each of his movements, scenting warm flesh.

Bucky’s voice is rumbling demands, his voice leaving no room for argument while every word was also laced with patience and love. Scent projecting love, understanding, I’m here, you’re safe.

“In through your nose. Out through your mouth. In through your nose. Out through your mouth.”

He repeats the mantra until Steve’s Omega obeyed his alpha, sucking in lung fulls of oxygen and releasing it in time with Buckys orders.

The memory of bombs and gunshots lost behind the sound of Bucky’s voice.

In through your nose. Out through your mouth. In through your nose. Out through your mouth.

He conjures up the memory of Buckys voice, coated in alpha command, urging him to breathe evenly. Fingers digging into Steve’s flushed skin, grounding him.

His alpha always knows what he needs...

Steve misses him.

Misses more than just the raw irrefutable attraction that got them into more trouble than it should have growing up. But he misses the rest of him too.

Misses the smirks and the long nights dreaming of what the future would bring. He misses Bucky’s laugh. God, he can hardly remember what it sounds like now.

Steve misses the way he would kiss. Gently. Chaste. Rough. Long. Kiss him in private and kiss him places that weren’t safe. On the stoop in front of their apartment, before the sun would come up and wandering eyes could catch them. Or alone in their bedroom, lips starting on his eyelids, across purple bruises, then down to his chest. Swallowing the omega’s moans and grinning into his mouth before settling beside him and chuckling deep into his ear, the last thing Steve would hear before sleep would overcome him. He misses the way Bucky would say his name like a prayer, wrap his lips around every letter like a caress, eyes sparkling with their love.

He misses knowing he’ll never be alone.

His heart thunders in his ears, chest feeling seconds away from crumbling in on itself as he thinks maybe it was easier when he believed the alpha was dead. Before he found out Bucky was alive, he mourned the man who loved him. Now, he grieves the love he’s lost. The alpha- his alpha-standing beside him without an ounce of affection or desire in his eyes.

Bucky wasn’t mourning the loss of Steve because he didn’t want Steve. Not anymore.

He clearly remembered enough. He may remember it all. However, knowing didn’t mean he had any intention of returning to what they had.

But even if every memory was gone, if the omega mattered at all, Bucky would remember him- his soul! If Steve himself were robbed of his past and they were just meeting again for the first time, he knew his soul would remember Buckys. Would want to know him all over, not needing to understand why!

The tears are falling before Steve has the chance to notice. A jagged whine barreling past his lips. All the weight of devastation and loneliness finally falling onto his shoulders.

Bucky had met him again. But he didn’t need him the same. Didn’t know his Omega; he didn’t want his heart.

Steve slumps further against the wall, blonde hair drenched in sweat, hands clawing at his chest, trying fruitlessly to manage his racing heart.

Closing his eyes, the omega summons an image of Bucky smiling reassuringly, soothing him as he tells him what to do.

In through your nose. Out through your mouth. In through your nose. Out through your mouth.

Okay… okay. That’s better.

“It hurts to think of you,” The omega confesses to no one, the tears running past his chin onto his suit. But I need you, “And I can’t breathe without you.”

“In through your nose. Out through your mouth. In through your nose. Out through your mouth. I’ve got you, Stevie. In and out. That’s it. In through your nose. Out through your mouth.”

Steve allows himself to sink deeper into his fantasy, swearing he could actually feel Bucky's hands running down his back and through his hair.

“I’ve got you, Stevie.”

It’s the last thing Steve hears before he passes out.

***

Steve is warm.

Steve’s bed has always been too soft, even after Sam suggested a firmer mattress. While helpful, he still couldn’t manage anything better than a fitful half-sleep most nights. He knew why, but in an effort to avoid further misery, he chooses not to dwell too much on that matter.

Aside from the too-soft mattress and the alpha missing from his bed, the omega was never warm enough. He shivered and reached out for body heat too far from his reach. But…

Steve is warm...

For a moment, he swears arms are around him.

And for a moment, he doesn’t care who they belong to. Because he isn’t shivering, for once. Isn’t suffering through another cold sweat, and the omega constantly pacing within him is actually settled. He hasn’t been this comfortable since the previous century, so whoever the hell is beside him can very well stay where they are, as long as he can keep this feeling.

It’s with another breath, he feels consciousness slowly creep up on him.

He almost laughs at the thought of being comfortable in anyone else’s arms. Of course, Bucky should have been his first thought, but honestly, at this point, Bucky willingly in his bed was a cruel dream.

Bucky must be using the same blockers Steve does. His Omega can’t scent him even this close, but who else’s arms fit so perfectly around him?

It’s the closest they’ve been at all since rescuing Bucky from Hydra, and Steve hated it as much as he loved it.

He wants to go back to sleep. Wants to bask in the warmth Bucky offers and pretend they’re back in their tiny apartment in Brooklyn. Struggling to make ends meet and unplagued by the horrors of war. Hidden from the world behind wilting wallpaper, sharing sweet kisses and bruising grips.

But this isn’t 1939. Bucky doesn’t share his bed...or his affections.

He would give anything to go back. He’d give anything to have his alpha again.

“I didn’t know you still had panic attacks.”, of course, Bucky noticed he wasn’t asleep anymore.

Steve feels him shift away, the arm around his waist, already feather-light, hardly there.

The omega within him whines, not wanting him to pull away. No, he wants him to climb on top of him. To drop all of his weight onto Steve’s hopeless body, make him stay in place. Unable to move until Bucky tells him he can...

Steve clenches his eyes tightly, suppressing his every unrelenting instinct from manifesting into something that will only push Bucky further away. And he needs him. Steve needs him, even if it is killing him.

“Yeah, well, there’s a lot you don’t know about, Buck.”, the omega remarks, his back still firmly pressed to Bucky’s chest.

Bucky may be ready to move, but Steve certainly isn’t. It’s not like the Alpha will say anything. Steve is far from perfect, despite whatever bullshit the news wants to feed the public. Steve is flawed and can be as selfish as anyone else. There are times where he permits his gaze to linger longer than it should, hands lazily pulling back when they should’ve never left his side, to begin with, or say Buckys name in the dead of night, surrounded by nothing but darkness and the sticky evidence of his spent weaknesses.

In private or in front of the alpha, Steve has toed the line of what is appropriate between friends and behavior shared between lovers.

Bucky has never reacted to any of it. Robotic and perfect all at once. His responses are exactly what they’re supposed to be, feeling false all the same.

Never contesting. Never reacting. As if Steve doesn’t ache for him.

It’s then that the confusion begins to twist at the recess of the omega’s mind.

“Why are you in my bed, Buck?” And how can I keep you here?

There’s a beat of silence, Bucky’s breath even beside Steve’s ear. It almost feels rehearsed, as if Bucky is concentrating on his breathing. Steve shakes the thought away before he can fool himself for the millionth time something is there that has proven again and again to be long ago dead.

“I was worried about you,” Bucky eventually admits, the arm just barely resting on Steve’s hip returning to its previous pressure, fingers hot and electrifying as they accidentally meet bare flesh peeking beneath Steve’s sleep shirt.

Sleep shirt?

“Did you change my clothes?” Steve says without thinking, saying anything to stop himself from moaning. He can’t remember the last time Buckys hands were this close to his body without explosions and frantic shouts playing in the background.

He turns his neck enough to meet Bucky’s clouded grey gaze.

A gasp falls from his lips instinctively, his own eyes widening on their own accord, taking in the receding blood red only just beginning to fade from the alpha’s eyes.

Just like that, Bucky is removing his arm entirely, releasing the Omega and taking all of that delicious warmth with him.

Bucky stays on the bed, though. His back resting against the headboard.

Steve just narrowly stops himself from shouting, ‘No! Stay, please!’, his heart pounding in his ears and his hands burning with the desire to reach out and drag the other man in.

Instead, he swallows his cries and urges his weary muscles into a sitting position, facing away from the former assassin.

While Steve was changed into something more comfortable than his uniform, the omega notices Bucky remains in his clunky tactical gear, down to his boots.

He had no intention of staying, Rogers. Take deep breaths, and give him an out.

He just needs to go.

The blonde is good at pretending. Well, most days anyway, he can fake a smile when the world is falling apart; he can pretend to be happy. But what he can’t seem to do anymore is pretend that he isn’t painfully in love with the man currently sitting on his bed, not a single reminisce of what they once were hanging between them.

He can’t manage a smile or a whisper of optimism when everything good has been taken from him. He knows what’s expected of him, but there are days when the sorrow is crippling, and he feels weaker than he ever did as that little guy from Brooklyn.

Clearly, no more talking is going to happen. And Steve isn’t emotionally stable enough right now to act as if he doesn’t want the alpha to bathe him in his scent, forcing the lingering panic, unwell, lonely away.

He moves to stand when,

“Rest.”

The order is sharp and certainly unintentional.

The shiver that races down Steve’s spine is violent, and his body locks up, ready to obey.

Turning his neck again, Steve catches the profile of the alphas annoyingly handsome face. His eyes are closed, brow pinched in concentration.

Steve stands slowly, hands shaking. It’s sickening how dreadfully good that single word made him feel. Floaty and sated. His blood, always raging, rushing, and crying out, settles within him, preparing to be taken care of.

The logical part of him reminds the omega they’ve been here before. Bucky will do something so woefully familiar, he dilutes himself into thinking he’s still wanted.

It’s never the case.

Steve keeps the hope from his tone when he challenges, “Excuse me?” Waiting for another command with bated breath.

“You should probably rest, Cap,” Bucky folds his arms across his broad chest, still ignoring Steve’s previous question as well as his gaze.

Forcing a smirk that makes him want to throw up, Steve teases, “Are you avoiding my question, Sargent?”

“Steve,” Bucky objects, voice chastizing.

Something uneasy burrows into Steve’s stomach, his body rejecting the discontent emanating off Bucky's skin.

He shrugs away the urge to whine, instead offering an ingenuine chuckle, “Jeez, I’m fine. Why so serious, Buck?”

Bucky stands, eyes hard, glaring right into Steve’s soul. The blonde sucks in a harsh breath, his fingers tingling and breath shallow.

Bucky’s eyes are red.

“Why so serious? “ The alpha growls, not moving from his spot beside Steve’s bed. The distance separating them not making sense in contrast to the intimate edge heavy in the air. It would be comical if not for the current sparking the negative space.

“We’re just gonna pretend like I didn’t find you seconds from passing out less than an hour ago? Is that something casual, am I supposed to just ignore it?”

Steve’s plastic smile fades, a tired expression painting his sharp features, “Yes. That’s exactly what you’re supposed to do.” He sighs, scrubbing his face in frustration, “Ignore it. Like you ignore everything else, Bucky...Just go.”

“What’s tha ‘posed to mean?”

“It means I’m sorry you had to see that, but you don’t have to worry about it.”

“See what? You being irresponsible?”

The thin scrap of patience the omega has evaporates; actually, it burns the fuck up, raging as loud as Steve’s fury, “Irresponsible!?”

The anger shoots through Steve like a wildfire, his temperature rising and his hands balling into fists. If the Alpha didn’t know any better, he’d think Steve was going to punch him.

Even so, he doesn’t back down. Instead, he takes a single step towards the blonde, body tight and rigid. Voice booming when he sneers, “Yes, goddamn it! Irresponsible.”

“Fuck you, Bucky!” Steve shouts, “Who the hell are you to lecture me on being irresponsible?”

“I’m your… I’m your second in command, and if you were struggling with PTSD, you should have told me something! Instead of me following you to your rooms and basically threatening Jarvis into letting me in. You were pale, Steve. Snow White ain’t got shit on how you looked- you were nearly blue! And I’m sorry for stepping in. We can blame it on your biology, but you finally managed to relax when my alpha came forward. It’s irresponsible to let yourself get to that point when you could have come to me- or, or anyone in the avengers for help.”

“You’re sorry,” Steve scoffs, “ You’re sorry you had to help me.”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

“Oh, but it’s what you said, isn’t it?” The Omega is nearly in hysterics. Half sad laughs, the only thing keeping him from crying.

“Steve...”

Buckys voice is now soaked in concern, the anger lost behind wisps of worried seeping from his concealed scent. Which serves only to break Steve further.

“Stevie.” Bucky repeats, wondering if Steve was spiraling into another panic attack.

He is only two steps away from him in a second, twitching, never touching but always close.

Steve feels another shock rack his entire body. His name falling from Bucky’s lips so effortlessly. The authority he holds swallowing every syllable. The sheer force of it nearly brings the omega to his knees.

Steve's heart pounds against his chest, like his heart is trying to escape. Running both hands across his face, then over tufts of blonde hair, his hands meeting behind his neck craned up towards the sky. Praying to anyone up there with mercy that Bucky will just leave. He keeps his arms where they arm before he can do something stupid like reach out.

“Bucky, why are you so concerned about it?” Steve’s eyes are still trained to the ceiling.

Steve knows he’s playing with fire. Playing with his own emotions, but sometimes he can swear he lives for it.

Bucky hesitates, watching Steve with careful eyes. “Because…You are our Captain and my best friend. If you need help, I am going to help you.”

The finality in his tone almost sounds like an alpha command, but his words contradict any sense of attraction or desire.

Another huff, gaze and arms dropping, “I’ll be fine once you leave.” Steve counters, harsher than he intended.

But fuck if he cares. Bucky doesn’t want him. He deserves to be a little angry. If he can’t grieve him, he can at least have this!

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing!” He snaps, “Just leave, James.”

“James? Oh, I’m James now?”

Steve could care less if he’s hurt his feelings. He’s had enough. His heart hurts, and his head aches. He is done playing this ‘I’m okay with everything’ game.

He is not okay with this, Dammit!

His heart is broken. Shattered. Irreplaceable. And he’s just supposed to be okay with that? He’s supposed to be Bucky’s friend and make jokes and smile when he is dying inside? Crying for his alpha- for stability when he feels like his whole world has been rocked?

Well, he’s had enough. He’s behaved for 2 years. He’s done!

Clenching blue eyes shut, Steve feels every carefully constructed wall of deception crumple at their feet.

“I don’t have time for this. Just leave so that I can breathe! I can’t breathe with you here!”

“Stevie…”

“Please,” the omega whimpers, all the fight leaving his body, long pale fingers running through sleep tousled hair, pulling at the roots, “Just stop.”

“Stop what? I can’t stop doing something if I don’t know what it is I’m doing!”

It’s Bucky’s turn to be panicked. In two strides, he’s in front of Steve, feeling the alarm creep up his chest, a flash of something sharpening eerie grey.

“Steve! Answer m-” Bucky lifts his hands as if to reach out for the other man but catches himself before metal could find flesh, “Will you tell me what I am doing wrong?”

Steve wants to cry and scream and rip that stupid mental arm out of its socket just so he can slap Bucky with it.

“Stop!” He repeats desperately, “Just stop! Stop saying my name! Stop talking to me like-like…”

“Like what!?”

Taking a calming breath, Steve forces himself to meet the alpha’s eyes, “Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to give you orders and never receive a protest in return?”

There’s a beat of silence accompanied by a blank expression. Steves heart shouting in his chest.

“...What?”

Steve continues, “Telling you what to do and how to do it. At least before you would fight me, yell at me. Make it easier to breathe.”

“Steve, what the fuck are you talkin’ about? You’re my boss. I’m s’posed ta take orders from ya.” Steve just about weeps when the Brooklyn accent begins to peek through, just as it usually does when Bucky is confused.

“Well, I’m not just your boss!”, Steve hears himself say, “I’m not just your boss. I’m also an omega. And I want you to tell me what to do. Your voice is like it’s permanently in alpha command, and I want you to fucking command me! Because I’m not just your boss. I’m not just an omega. I’m your fucking omega! And I can’t stand you saying my name like your seconds away from telling me to get down on my knees because you never do! And it isn’t your fault! It’s not! You don’t want me anymore, and that’s fine, but my omega hasn’t forgotten, and my heart won’t forgive you for not loving me anymore. So stop. Stop saying my name like you still want me. Because every time you do, for precisely one second, I feel like you’ve come back to me, but you haven’t- you won’t! And it’s killing me, Buck.”

Steve’s eyes are misted with tears, his chest heaving and skin flushed with embarrassment and shame, “Please… Just don’t say my name, or I’m just gonna break.”

The words pour from his lips, and he wants to disappear. He wishes the ground would just swallow him whole and save him from Bucky’s response.

Steve trembles beneath stormy grey, choosing instead to watch the ground. His omega whining and clawing at the back of his mind.

“I can’t do this anymore, Bucky.” He murmurs, waiting for the outrage or worse; the indifference-the clunk of footsteps walking away from the mess he’s made. The life they had. The man he no longer loves.

Steve hasn’t found his eyes again. Won’t move his head. He doesn’t care how submissive it makes him look because he’s spent most of his life searching for steel grey eyes in crowds and across rooms. Seeking them out in the dark, the only beacon of light he would see most days. And now… Now those eyes that kept him so safe when the world was crumbling around them made him feel like winter on a summer day, cold and alone, only seconds from melting into nothing.

He’s not sure how much time passes without a word between them. He waits another moment before surrendering a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, shaking his head and turning to leave.

He didn’t know where he was going, but he couldn’t stay here.

Like lightning, Bucky’s right hand snaps forward, catching the omega’s wrist before he can make it far, and just like electricity, a jolt of fire scorches where their skin meets.

As one would an old friend, Steve invites the sensation to consume him, feeling every nerve respond to Bucky, it’s like he was brought back to life, and he wants nothing more than to cry because he knows it won’t last. He knows as soon as the alpha lets go, he’ll return to reality as only half a man. Something-someone always missing from him.

“Steve.”, his breath hitches, and his hands shake. A whisper of a scent he’s all but forgotten seeps into the room, but it’s gone before Steve can determine if it’s only a memory.

Steve’s name rolls off of Bucky’s tongue too easily. Too pretty. Too dark. Too much!

Jesus!

Hadn’t he been clear enough the first fucking time? How else exactly was he supposed to phrase it; ‘Don’t say my name, or I’ll break from how horny it makes me?’

“Steve,” The alpha repeats.

Steve feels another pang of electricity shoot to his fingertips, itching with the need to just touch, “Bucky, I think you should leave.”

He doesn’t want him to. But when was the last time Steve got what he wanted.

“Now,” He adds after another second passes. Bucky's feet were firmly placed on the ground, not a single muscle prepared to even twitch.

The room is blanketed in heavy silence before, “No.”

Steve feels as if the wind has been knocked out of him. His lips part in surprise, brow furrowed as his heart begins to pick up the pace.

“Excuse me?”

“I hate that I can’t scent you,” The alpha announces, talking slow, calculated steps forward, eradicating any space brave enough to separate them,

“I hate that I can’t tell where you are during missions.” Suddenly Bucky’s grip loosens, yet it doesn’t move far. He runs his hand up Steve’s forearm, fingertips dragging across perfect porcelain skin, not stopping until the palm of his flesh hand rests on Steve’s neck.

“I picture what it would feel like to sink my teeth into your neck and keep you there, with my fangs in your flesh, drawing blood from your skin and moans from your lips. I dream of you whimpering, “ He whispers harshly, eyes trained to Steve’s neck.

The omega’s eyes flutter closed, lips trembling around the alpha’s name, “Bucky,”

Ignoring the blonde, the other man continues, not quite done yet, “I defend those thoughts by saying to myself, it’s all so that I can feel you. So I can feel where you are when we’re in the field. So I won’t worry as much, won’t get distracted. But I know it’s just half of it. I know I want to tell you to take those damn blockers off. To wash it away, or let me lick it away with my tongue-whichever came first.”

“I hate that I want to fall asleep with you curled above my chest because you’ll be warmer that way. And for whatever reason, I remember you always being cold before bed. I want to demand you buckle up and wear extra layers. I want you to fight me a little. I want you to tell me to shut up but get all soft when I give you a hard look. Like, you are now, with my chest touching yours, hands at your neck and waist. Your heart stuttering against me. I want you to tease me because you want me to get annoyed so that I tell you to shut your mouth and put it to good use. I hate that I want to do all these things, but I can’t. Because you don’t want me to...”

Blue pop open, held hostage by grey. Bucky is everywhere. His face is so close Steve can feel every breath the alpha takes fan over his eyelashes. His eyes tracking over the curve of pink lips and soft skin. Left arm curled around Steve’s waist, metal grip unmoving. His other hand still firmly placed over his scent gland, Bucky’s long fingers spread over the column of flesh, thumb running back and forth along the length of it, causing goosebumps to follow his trail of fire.

Steve moans at the sensation, baring his neck so Bucky has the access he would need. His legs nearly giving out beneath him, but the arm at his waist won’t let him fall.

“Are you telling me that you want me to?” Bucky presses. His voice is sharp and promising. The hand around Steve’s neck, a light pressure the omega finds himself pushing into.

“Steve! Look at me. Look at me, omega.”

The blonde hadn’t noticed his eyes fluttering shut again, the sensation of being held, of having so much alpha- his alpha right there in front of him. Soaking him in his scent. Not a true claim or even a scent mark, but this is more than he ever thought he would ever get again.

Bucky’s words have barely registered for the omega; he lost the ability to comprehend English the instant Buckys hands found his body. But he reacts to the order, all the same, seeing the steely, beautiful grey (beginning to tint red again) he has known since he was a boy.

Slowly, so slowly, Steve begins to piece together the things Bucky has confessed, his eyes once more welling with tears.

Patiently, Bucky waits for the understanding to reflect in sapphire eyes, speaking only when he knows the omega can now retain information.

“Are you telling me you want me to touch you, Stevie?” Bucky murmurs, staring at Steve’s bottom lip.

“Yes,” He breathes, just barely audible without an ounce of hesitation.

The next thing Steve knew, Bucky had him against a wall. His nose buried in his neck and his hands rounding his ass, using his shoulders to pin Steve to the wall and lift his legs until the omega joined the program and wrapped his legs around Bucky’s waist. Bucky’s hardening cock pushing into his hip.

“Oh shit, Buck!”

“ I have to say your name,” Bucky growls, grinding into his omega.

“As much as I can, even if it doesn’t work in the conversation, because it’s the closest I can get you in my mouth. It tastes like heaven, and memories I can’t decipher are real or just fantasy they- Oh, fuck baby. Yeah, Stevie- They don’t compare to this- Keep moving, just like that, babydoll.”

Steve ruts against Buckys friction, his eyes closed tightly, whatever was left of their blockers bleeding out, replacing the neutral aroma in the room with their combined scents, desperation, and slick.

“God, Bucky. I missed you so much. I’ve been so alone.”

Buckys mouth finds Steve’s trembling lips, nothing subtle or slow about his movements. The alpha’s tongue swallows the moans tumbling past Steve’s lips. Hands gripping his waist tighter.

The sun bursts behind their eyes. Blood rushing and hearts bumping to twice their regular speed. For different people, people who aren’t Steve and Bucky, a first kiss after so long should probably be slow and tentative, something soft and building. But they aren’t different people. They are too broken and too powerful and undeniably deserving people who have had nothing to count on besides one another their entire conscious lives. To entertain even a second of not indulging in hard, fast, desperate supersedes unthinkable and settles somewhere over cruel.

“Never again, Stevie. I ain’t leaving you alone” another thrust, “Ever, “ another bruising kiss, “Again.”

Bucky’s cock strains against his uniform, desperate for Steve’s hole. Steve is a withering whimpering mess, drunk on Buckys scent and high on all the delicious friction causing his weeping cunt to flutter, uncomfortably empty.

After several more minutes of making out, Bucky moves them back to the bed, lying Steve out on the mattress. He only has a fraction of a second to admire the work of art that is Steve Rogers sprawled out and waiting to be fucked when Steve’s hands are at his neck, pulling him back in.

His lips move against the alpha’s sloppily, sucking on his bottom lip until the ex-assassin growls impatiently, searching for his mate’s tongue. His mate…

His mate. Steve thinks he may cry as the sheer relief almost painfully washes over him. All of the uncertainty and shame of being unwanted melts away, and all that surrounds him is the vibrating want, mine, love, love, love from the man above him, trailing scorching hot kisses down his neck.

“I wanna be ‘side you, baby. Please, Steve. Let me, ugh, please, babydoll. Can I-”

“Yes!” steve interrupts, “Yes, Alpha, you never have to ask! I’ll do whatever you ask, oh just touch me, Bucky, alpha, my alpha, touch me-”

“Shh, “ Bucky chuckles, stopping the omega’s rambling. He runs his flesh hand through disheveled blonde hair, dragging his nails through Steve’s scalp and marveling at the hiss the omega releases, “I’ve got you, Stevie. All I needed was a lil consent, then all bets are off, aren’t they? ‘Cause you’re mine now, aren’t you, baby?”

“Always have been, jerk. I never stopped.”

“Good. Now, stop touching me.”

With a whimper, Steve can’t stop his hands from frantically clawing every inch of Bucky he can access.

“Now, babydoll, don’t you wanna be good for me?”

Still clutching one hand around Bucky's thick, muscular biceps, the other pulling at the strands of dark brown hair helplessly, “I can be good,” the omega babbles, “I’ll be good, Alpha. So good, I can be good, so so good. Please-”

“ Then listen to what I am telling you. I won’t repeat myself again, Steve. It’s my turn now. I wanna get my mouth on you, and I can’t do that if you keep pullin’ me back up to kiss. So stop touching.”

The moan that stutters past Steve’s lips would be embarrassing if not for how fucking fantastic it feels for Bucky’s alpha command to slam into him. Paralyzing him in place. Hands falling unceremoniously at his sides.

Crystal blues brimming with tears, he feels safe for the first time since coming out of the ice- he feels familiar. Not somewhere foreign with no understanding of anything besides, fight this, kill that. This is different. This is them. This is intimacy- their intimacy.

There’s trust swimming within the negative spaces Bucky extends, and he knows, to his core, he can let go. Steve surrenders all his false smiles and exhausting positivity. This is home. Bucky is home. He doesn’t have to put up a front because his alpha has it handled.

Steve isn’t Captain America or some beacon of hope. He’s just Steve, Stevie. Bucky's Omega.

He’s unsure how much time passes or where it went, to begin with, but his body sinks deeper into his mattress, feeling entirely boneless.

“You okay, baby?” Bucky’s husky voice breaks through the fog, “I lost you for a second there.”

Steve feels himself come back, callused hands running through damp blonde hair.

“Mmm,” he hums.

“You spaced a little, Stevie. You’re so beautiful when you get all soft for me. But you’re back now, aren’t you? Look at you. So perfect. Pretty, perfect omega-mine. Kept your hands at your side the whole time too. Such a good boy. You’re gonna keep your hands right where they are, Stevie. Don’t you move a fucking inch. I’m going to lick you open now, babydoll. And you’re gonna come on my tongue as many times as I want you to. Because I’ve gone 70 years without you, and I’m goddamned starved” Bucky’s voice goes from soft praise to near feral growls. His voice sending nothing but jolts of electricity down Steve’s spine, another wave of slick slipping down his thighs.

Before the ‘please’ has the opportunity to touch Steve's mouth, Bucky's hot, slick tongue finds his pulse point, just mere inches from his mating gland.

“Bucky!”

“I want this off!”, The ex-assassin grunts, in one swift move yanking the crisp white shirt from Steve's chest.

“Oh!”

Bucky backs up to lean on his knees, eyes tracking over pinkening skin. Steve’s own gaze glides over now exposed skin. Steve tries to finger out when he removed his clothes but falls short.

After so long without Buckys tenderly harsh commands, falling into space came a little easier than he would have thought. Overwhelmed by the unanticipated satisfaction.

“Open your eyes.”

When had Steve closed his eyes again?

“There you are, dolly. Keep those pretty eyes on me, okay? Always on me, baby.”

Rough, mouthwateringly calloused hands find the waistband of Steve’s pants and yank down in one fluid motion.

The blonde hisses for a moment at the sudden cold air biting his skin, but it only lasts a moment before he’s screaming.

“Fuck!” Steve throws his head back in favor of making sounds even a prostitute would blush at.

One moment Bucky’s on his knees, eyes predatory and sinful, calculating all the things he could do to the man shivering beneath his gaze, the next finds him throat deep, swallowing down Steve’s sweet omega cock, slurping up his precum and getting high off the scent of slick so close to his nose.

Steve can’t breathe.

God! It’s too much. It’s so good. It’s too good!

Steve can feel the familiar pull of an orgasm tugging inside of him. The corners of his closed vision whitening out around the black, lacking the energy to even feel embarrassed by how quickly he’s reached his pinnacle.

Pulling off agonizingly slow, Bucky lets his tongue harshly lick along Steve’s little shaft and twirl over his tip, remembering- fucking remembering! All the sounds and glazed looks elicited from the man below him in the past.

Grey eyes flick up hungrily, ravenous for a look into perfect crystal eyes; he can remember the glazed debauched expression that could devour Steve’s pupils, but it’s not enough!

He wants the real thing.

He wants something tangible and alive in his hands he can never again confuse with desire. Something he’s sure happened, a gift Steve is willingly offering instead of a snarled half-memory he can’t allow himself to believe.

“I-ugh! I’m gonna-“Steve stutters, toes curling and knees bending, framing Bucky's face between his thighs. His hands twitch beside him, but he doesn’t dare move them.

“Oh!”

It should have been a cry of ecstasy.

Should have been the Yellow River Flood; relentless and relieving. No survivors.

Instead, Steve is left with his chest heaving violently. Gasping for air just as he did when he was small.

The omega hears Bucky tutting before he manages to pry his eyes open. Immediately recognizing his mistake before the words fall from cum slick lips.

“Oh, baby. You were doing so good.”

“Nno! Buck, please!”

“Shhh, What did I say, dolly?” Bucky replaces his mouth with one strong hand, lazily jerking at Steve’s straining cock.

He’s smirking when Steve hisses beneath him and hums in approval when his hands stay at his sides.

“F-Faster! Please, Buck! Goddamn it, stop teasing’ me.”

“What did I say, Stevie?” Bucky repeats sharply. His movements slowing further.

Steve’s omega cries.

“You wanna cum, baby doll? “

“Yes!”

“Then what do you have to do?“

Steve’s mind has gone to mush. He thrusts his hips up, chasing after Bucky's friction. Hands struggling against the bedsheets.

“Still, omega!”

Bucky's voice is rough as sandpaper, sounding as on edge as Steve feels. A firm metal hand presses into the omega’s hip holding him in place.

“Be good, Stevie.” The alpha asserts firmly, scent growing muskier with every heavenly noise gasped and groaned from Steve’s sinful lips.

“If you wanna cum, what is it you have to do?”

Bucky rubs a metal thumb soothingly over a sinfully sharp hip bone before trailing his fingers over Steve’s quivering thigh.

Grey eyes nearly roll into the back of his head, “Fuck, baby, you’re so soft. C’mon, don’t you want me to touch you?”

“Yes! Please, fuckin touch me, you jerk!”

Chuckling darkly to himself, Bucky watches Steve with bated breath, and all at once, he feels like his mind had never left. Like an addict, he was never over his addiction; he just forgot how good it was. And like the degenerate addict he apparently was, he sucks in deep breaths, sucking in as much of Steve’s aroused scent that his lungs can handle.

All it took was one hit of Steve- his omega- and he had fallen into himself, more of who he was than any memory had offered.

Steve is his clarity and his habit. The one thing that will always bring him back because Steve is home.

And he’s gonna make him feel good. He’s gonna make up for all he put his omega through, and he’s gonna enjoy every second of it.

Every moan, every shiver, every cry. He’s gonna hold him and bruise him because Steve is his, and that’s how the omega likes it. Bucky’s omega. Bucky's Sweetheart. Bucky’s mate.

The ex-assassin lets his fingers trail lower, his other hand still just barely moving over Steve’s pulsing cock.

The first touch of cool metal meeting Steve’s hole causes the blonde to nearly jump off the bed.

“Buck!”

Steve thinks he’s gonna die.

He feels every cell in his body vibrating with a hot, hopeless sensation. Slick pours out of him the second Bucky’s teasing, perfect, godforsaken pinky circles Steve’s core. His lungs and eyes are burning, nearly out of breath, and only capable of volunteering a broken sob when that fucking pinky just barely pushes in.

“Please,” he whispers jaggedly.

He’ll be good for bucky. He’ll keep his hands at his side. He’ll do what he says even without the command, the fogginess of his brain settling deep enough that any request will register as a command anyway.

That’s just how Steve is wired.

Designed to submit to Buck’s direction.

He knows what Bucky wants, but to physically pry his eyes open at that moment was easier said than done. He struggled to determine whether or not he’s trying to starve off a quickly approaching orgasm or trying to chase one.

Whatever the answer, Bucky doesn’t let him reach it.

The alpha’s dark, whiskey voice sounds as wrecked as Steve feels.

“What. Do. I. Want?” Bucky growls impatiently. Another wave of slick dribbles from the omega wetting the sheets beneath them.

Think, steve! Give alpha what he wants! You can be good. I can be good…. What does he want again?

“My…ugh! M-My eyes.”

Finally, fucking finally, Bucky pushes a finger into Steve’s hole. Fast and absolutely delicious.

Just when he thought Bucky would stop playing games, he realizes the ringing in his ears is replaced by the alpha tutting above him.

“Very close, baby, but not quite.”, Buckys finger starts to draw out slowly; what little fullness Steve has is threatened, and the distressed mewl Steve makes in protest causes the alpha to chuckle darkly.

“P-pretty! Keep my pretty eyes on you! Only on you!” his eyes snap open frenzied, finding a swirl of grey and red zeroed in on him.

In a millisecond, Steve has two metal fingers thrusting into his hole. His back arches on the mattress, fingers nearly numb as they grip the sheets tighter, but his eyes don’t close again.

“That’s right, baby. Only on me.”

“Oh! Yes!”

“Fuck! You’re so tight, Stevie.”, Bucky groans, lowering himself as to mouth along Steve’s jaw, nipping his skin between tentative licks.

“Pl-Ease! Oh, yes... Please, Buck.”

“Please what, Stevie? Use your words.”

Steve’s mind is a simple stream of 3 thoughts, Touch me. Fuck me. Love me!; all of which he can only vocalize as, “Oh please, please. Bucky!”

Working a third finger along with the other two, Bucky hisses with Steve at the stretch his hole gives.

So fucking tight, the alpha thinks to himself, I don’t know how I’ll survive it, but I’m gonna fuck this omega so gooood.

“Words, Steve. Or I’ll start thinking you don’t want me t’touch ya at’all. Huh, maybe I should stop...”

“No! God, Buck, don’t stop, don’t ever stop!”

“Then tell me what you want. What a’you begging for, Doll?” Bucky trails the tips of his fingers over Steve’s ribs, rounding at his back, “is it my fingers? Sliding through all your slick? Or is it my mouth?”

“Yes!”

Bucky chuckles,” That’s not really an answer, Stevie.” His voice gets darker each time he says the omegas name like he knows. Actually, the bastard does know! He knows exactly what he’s doing.

The prospect of teasing seems to pull him just the tiniest bit to the side of coherent, a snarky remark falling from his lips as easily as the desperate pleas had moments before.

“You havin’ fun, Buck?” Steve pants, “Seems like you’re having a little too much fun.”

“Aw no, baby. I’m having the exact right amount of fun. Aren’t we?”

“ ‘We’ are a lotta peop-le!! Oh shit!” pushing his fingers in deeper, Bucky just brushes against Steve’s prostate. A sinister and smug smile curling his lips upward.

“Words, Stevie. Tell me what you want. And I’ll give it to you, omegamine. Just tell me.”

Steve’s chest flushes more as the words tingle on his tongue. Bucky's nearly feral tone betrays his suave and calm demeanor.

He’s just as desperate to be buried deep in Steve’s hole as Steve is to have him there.

Bucky’s fingers push more firmly against Steve’s prostate, and the omega nearly sees stars.

“Sing for me” Almost like an echo, Steve hears Buckys words like gospel.

It’s a command he’s most familiar with. He knows just what ‘ song’ Bucky wants ….

“Daddy!” Steve hisses around a fourth finger. The words punching out of him before he could stop them.

“ I wondered if that was just fantasy,” the alpha mumbles. Eyes darkening a rich crimson. An ever-present growl rumbling in his chest.

Bucky leans over, letting his fingers get even deeper, dragging against Steve’s special spot with every new thrust. With red eyes and diminishing control, the alpha drinks in every pant and whine that drips past kiss-bruised lips and bouncing off the walls of Steve’s room.

Bucky drops his nose into Steve’s scent gland, swiping his tongue over the swelling tissue for a better taste.

“You smell so fucking good, baby. Like mate.”

“Buck…” Steve gasps, feeling overwhelmed. Any moans he could possibly wish to suppress are yanked from his chest with every move the alpha makes. Sounds too rowdy even for porn echoing in his small dark room.

Bucky can’t get enough of it, stuttering an accidental thrust into Steve’s hip when the omega whines in a delightfully sweet way, the scent of slick and alluring sounds steve makes nearly choking him.

Fuck, I hope Tony has these rooms soundproofed. Steve uses his last brain cell to think.

Bucky's metal fingers continue to work him open, preparing him for his big alpha cock fast and rough and exactly how he likes it, but his other hand still moves sluggishly over Steve’s, slowly purpling prick. Tightening and stopping entirely every so often as to starve off Steve’s orgasm.

“Bucky, please!”

Fuck, Bucky thinks, I hope everybody can hear him, fuckin; hear us,

The blonde knows all he has to do is tell Bucky ‘Fuck me’ maybe add on ‘Daddy’ to further wreck him like it did back in the days if he even still likes that. But as much as Steve likes Bucky telling him what to do, he loves to defy him into aggression, twice as much.

“Say it again,” Bucky mumbles against the omegas scent gland, unable to move a millimeter.

The laugh that tumbles past Steve’s lips is quickly swallowed by Buckys tongue shoved down his throat. Pearly white teeth pulling back only to stress a bite on his bottom lip, not stopping until a faint taste of metal joins the deliriously delicious taste of Buckys omega.

“Again, omega. Say it again.”

With another brush against his prostate, Stev’s vision begins to blur, but he won’t close his eyes, no matter how much he wants them to,

“Alpha!”

Steve is a debauched disaster. A puddle of liquid fire and Bucky wanted to fucking burn.

“You know that’s not what I want to hear, babydoll. But I’m feeling generous, so let’s make a deal, yeah? You say what I want, and I’ll tell my precious boy how good he is. How good you feel around my fingers swallowin’ my fingers so fuckin’ good. And I’ll say your name as much as you want. That’s what you were beggin’ for, wasn’t it?” Bucky rambles, fingers pumping quicker into Steve, hand starving off the omegas dick, tugging over the length with dangerous precision.

“You want me to say your name, dontcha dolly? Tell you you’re being good. Everything Daddy needs. My good, beautiful Stevie.”

Buckys cock presses into the mattress, the slightest friction sending magic to tingle over his skin. His knot calls out for Steve’s sopping wet pussy, fluttering around his fingers. The sensation alone is a mutual torture all on its own.

It would be so fucking easy to slide home into Steve’s awaiting heat. So fucking easy!

Not yet, he reminds himself.

No, he wants something first, and he’s gonna get it.

Outside of the bedroom, the thought of ever using his alpha tone with Steve is unthinkable. There isn’t a scenario out there that could justify taking away his omegas free will.

But here-like this. Sweaty and drooling and filthy, reeking of mate and sex, the tone combines with his voice as if that’s the only way there is to speak.

“Say it again, Steve. Now!”

“Daddy! Daddy, fuck me! Please,pleasepleaseplease”

Gently, the alpha removed his fingers. Steve’s mouth opens to cry, but before he can focus too much on the dreadful emptiness, Bucly is buried to the hilt in Steve’s ass.

“Ah!” Steve shouts, throwing his head back and moving his hands to grip at Bucky’s shoulders for the first time since being told not to move them an inch.

He quickly realizes his mistake, and in a fearful attempt to keep Bucky inside of him, confident he wouldn’t survive another moment of his teasing, his alpha’s voice rumbles past the panic.

“Touch me. Wherever you want, Stevie.”

The sigh of relief is an afterthought, long nimble finger trail over both metal and flesh shoulders, a satisfying wave pushing into the realm of too damn good. Being allowed to touch after being denied was always such an experience. Reverse touch starved. Bucky has the go-ahead to do with him as he wishes. Meanwhile, every instinct within the omega seeks Bucky out. His skin, his mouth, his scent. He wants to feel his alpha under his fingers as much as he wants to bounce on Buckys, but he can’t. He has to lay there and fight against the urge to suck hickeys onto every surface of skin he can find.

Pulling on stands of dark chestnut-colored hair, Steve tries to adjust to the girth inside of him.

“Move.”, the omega whispers harshly after a few moments.

Bucky doesn’t need much prompting; he knows Steve can take it, and more than that, any remaining sting that prepping might have missed, Steve fucking aches for.

“As you wish.”

It’s like a dam break. A flood, unforgiving, and exactly what they each fuckin need!

Bucky's shallow, calculated thrusts soon quicken, taking on a brutal pace.

He slams his cock home and grinds deep before pulling nearly entirely out and slamming back in. Again and again and again. Returning quicker every time he finds himself back inside Steve’s velvet-soft heat.

Words are lost on the omega, choosing to indulge rather on feral groans and guttural whines, meeting every thrust and dragging sharp nails across Bucky's shoulders.

It’s all so much. Like a storm, heavy and pounding in their ears. And it all makes so much sense.

They’re a natural disaster. Bucky kisses like a hurricane, all lips, tongue, and teeth. Steve moves and squeezes his walls around Bucky's cock, no rhyme or reason to his actions, just passion, just I have to have this.

Kisses pouring down upon kisses like rain, soaking them in love, and Steve nearly cries.

He never thought he’d have this again.

The ex-assassin is a bit more vocal.

He can feel his release creeping up, desire warm and urgent low in his belly. But cumming before Steve is absolutely not an option. Half the fun was watching the poster child for purity throw his head back in ecstasy, beggin for ruin with Buckys name on his lips. And he’d be damned if he's gonna miss it in the cloud of his own pleasure.

“D-Deeper!” Steve whimpers, pulling Bucky closer by the nape of his neck.

The hand that had been knotted in Steve’s own hair follows suit of the palm firmly placed over one sharp hip bone.

Gripping him with enough pressure to bruise, Bucky bends over Steve’s lithe build and takes hold of one muscular thigh, nearly folding the blonde in half as he settles Steve’s leg over his flesh shoulder.

“Fuck!” Steve cries, Bucky's cock sliding that much deeper, hitting his prostate with nearly every thrust.

Bucky groans at the new position, one large hand kneading and pulling at Steve's ass, tugging him back with the snap of his hips. His other hand runs over the omegas sweaty, slick body, sliding a finger over a single hard nipple before securing his fingers around Steve’s neck. Palm pushing into his scent gland.

It is a little more than light pressure, but it gives its desired effect; Steve’s eyes go from unfocused and glassy to piercing. More black than blue, pupils blown, but Bucky still catches the glint of gold mingling about, exactly what he’d been waiting for.

There you are, omegamine, he thinks.

“Ugh, yes, fuck! You like that, don’t you. Like me pushing you down. Like me pounding into your sweet pussy. But it’s not really yours is it, baby?”

“Gnnn”

“Answer me. Who’s pussy is this, Steve?”

“Y-yours, Daddy. I’m yours.”

“Mine.” The alpha growls, yet another wave of slick passing Steve’s thighs. “My omega. My good boy. Listened so good, doll.”

“Fuck, Buck. Alpha, my alpha. I missed you, I missed you so fuking much. I missed your big alpha cock. So good to me. I wanna be good, Daddy. Tell me how to be good.”

“You wanna be good?”

“Yes!”

“You’re already so good for me. Perfect omega. Pretty, perfect thing.”

“I can be-ugh yes!! I can...nnnn….be better.” The omega stutters between kisses, “Wanna be the best boy.”

“Yeah?”

“Please, Alpha. Knot me!”

“Okay, baby. Listen closely, hmm?”

“Keep still.” In two mostly smooth movements, Bucky is lying on his back, Steve’s lean frame now straddling the alpha, lifting him by the waist; Bucky sinks Steve further on his cock.

“Ride me.”

As if without his permission, Steve’s moving above the bigger man.

Thick thighs feel even wider between Steve’s slightly smaller ones. Bucky’s hands come to Steve’s waist, helping him grind down harder, deeper.

Steve can’t keep his gaze from trailing down to where they’re connected. His hole swallowing 6 to 7 inches of monster alpha cock, and he could just cry for how hot it is to see them connected like this.

I wanna be locked to you. I want your knot!

“Eyes, Stevie!” Bucky snarls with another hash snap of his hips, impaling Steve further and hitting his prostate. The omega falls over, making sure to lock blue with grey.

Abandoning their vice grip on the alphas thighs, Steve steadies himself with one hand over his lover's heart, fingertips brushing the mating gland by his neck as the other grips the headboard above the bed, wood splintering under every shock of pleasure jolting through Steve in response to each of Bucky's strident thrusts.

“Oh, oh! D-Daddy. I’m gonna, I’m gonna cum!”

“Now that I’ve got you back, we won’t be leaving this room for much, Stevie. I want you on your knees sucking my big alpha cock. Licking up the evidence of what you do to me. I’ll hold you by your neck and force-feed it to you just like you like it.”

“B-Buck-eyy!”

“Yeah, baby, say my name. You’re beautiful. Angelic. A work of. Fucking. Art.” He punctuates his words with a sharp jerking of Steve’s body above him. Pulling his center as close as he can get him, knot swelling mercilessly and snagging on Steve’s rim.

Steve feels pleasure like he’s never felt before. Words slurred and hardly coherent,

“‘Wan’ yur k’nnot!”

He sounds drunk.

Bucky loves it!

“Not until you cum, baby doll. You first, then Daddy. Good boys get their rewards, and this is-” using Steve as a ragdoll, Bucky manhandles him into circular motions, twisting and penetrating the omegas sweet spot with wild precision.

One hand (Steve couldn’t even tell you which, mind too fuzzy and too loaded with his quickly approaching orgasm) presses into the omegas gorgeous tits before sweeping down to tug on Steve’s crying cock, pre-cum dribbling from its bright red head.

Steve cums with a shout, back arching and eyes struggling to stay open, finally shut. His vision whites out with pleasure, but he can’t bring himself to remember anything outside of this bliss. No world lived outside of these walls. Just him, his alpha, and all the pleasure Bucky brings him.

“Ohhh, Allphaa,”

“Yours. Yes! Oh, you feel- God so fucking tight, Stevie. Look ‘atchyou. Milking my cock, pussy squeezing my knot, beggin for it. Daddy’s gonna give it to you.”

“Gimme,” he whispers weakly.

He doesn’t feel Bucky flip him over or the hands pushing both his legs over Bucky’s shoulders, but the moment Bucky starts pumping in and out again, his body jolts awake, and all Steve wants is to make his alpha cum.

“Daddy’s gonna cum right inside your tight, perfect pussy. Yeah, Stevie. ugh!”

“Wan’ be...hmm.”, he tries to form words, but they die on his tongue, not coming down fast enough to entertain even a murmur of conversation.

Another 30 seconds passing before he has enough brain cells to return his gaze to stormy grey.

As always, Bucky’s eyes are already on him.

“That's all you got, Daddy?” The blonde snarks between pants, another orgasm building in his belly, toes curling, and his half-soft prick smushed and pulsating against Bucky's abs.

Bucky laughs around a moan, pulling Steve into another kiss before giving one, two, three more thrusts, shouting out a string of praise as his knot pops inside of his omega.

Steve’s heavy punched out sigh joins the shuddered fluttering of his hole, another wave of release escaping him.

The room fills with pants and sloppy kisses. Each man nosing along their scent glands, finding where a bond mark would go and lapping over it lovingly.

In the 40s, hiding their love was a matter of survival, and a surrender of their need to properly mate. They didn’t have to hide here. They could love each other and bite each other someday. Unified in the one way they spent most of their lives thinking they’d never have.

They Lie there, tied together even after Bucky’s knot goes down. Thoughts of taking that step-marking each other, on the tip of both of their tongues.

They lie there, bathing in the calm after the storm.

Sometime afterward:

After another round and many minutes of lazily making out, the pair rest beside each other, touching the other man wherever he could reach, tracing nonsense patterns into heated flesh and feeling happier than either had in 70 years.

“What were you sayin’, y’know before we… Y’know”, Steve blushes as if he wasn’t just face down ass up drooling over Tony’s Egyptian cotton sheets.

“Before you started crying for my knot, and I fucked you 6 ways from Sunday?”

“You’re a fucking jerk!”

“Nah, I’m just fucking a jerk.”, The alpha smiles, joy like nothing he’s been able to remember trips over his heart.

“I’m serious, Buck. Before we...did it”

“Ha!”

A sharp smack falls onto Buckys bare chest, “Fine! Before you came like a geyser up my ass-”

“Steve!” Bucky barks a laugh, loving the pink blush dusting over Steve’s cheeks despite the faux aggravation he was attempting to express.

“Will ya quit interrupting me? You fucking alphas are so rude!”

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry, Stevie. What were you saying?” Bucky concedes, the shit-eating grin doing nothing for the butterflies swarming the omega’s insides.

“You were saying that you couldn’t decipher real from what’s fake?”

Sighing, Bucky cards his fingers through Steve’s hair, not stopping, when the omega turns onto his stomach, exposing his back and facing the brunette. Bucky smiles down at the omega letting his hand slide down to his spine, tracing the smooth pale skin with the tip of his finger.

It’s freeing, liberating even, to let his hands and eyes roam wherever they want. After so many years of separation, then being reunited only to build unnecessary obstacles designed for the sole purpose of self-sabotaging, somehow they’ve found themselves again in the other man’s arms.

Bucky bends down to press a gentle kiss on Steve’s shoulder, loving the way the omega shivers beneath his lips.

I could just eat him alive…

“Buuuuck,” Steve shakes his head, smiling at the alpha underneath long lashes.

“Sorry, baby, you just look so sexy.”

“Oh, do I? Maybe it has a little to do with all the naked skin?”

Smiling goofily, Bucky allows his voice to get al sweet, “C’mere, smartass.”

Bucky pulls a yelping Steve into his lap, effectively laying the slender omega over his broad alpha chest.

The feeling is exhilarating. Bucky feels his stomach swoop and heart skip a beat, feeling more accomplished in this solitary moment entangled with Steve than in months of SHIELD work.

Steve grins despite himself. Settling against Bucky's chest, folding his hands in front of him and resting his chin onto his knuckles. Suddenly thrilled by the position.

He can stare into Bucky's eyes forever, and he has a sneaking suspicion the alpha won’t protest.

Cold metal fingers trail down Steve’s spine, eliciting a gentle quiver from the blonde man, shamelessly beaming beneath the attention.

“I remember how scared I would get in the winter.”

Steve’s brow furrowed in confusion, lying his head down onto his forearms and urging the larger man with his eyes to continue.

“I love that I can make you shiver now. But I think it would’ve just about wrecked me with worry back then.”

Bucky's flesh hand curls across Steve’s exposed waist, letting his heat seal into his fingers. His eyes close in relief. Like he’s remembered something… or rather; reminded himself of something.

“ I remember the worry best. The sleepless nights and evenings spent bent over pews, praying no one could hear your name falling from my lips because then they’d know… Know how much I wanted you. Wanted you to live. Wanted you to love me. Wanted you to be my omega. I remember going to work at the docks and feeling the bike rise in my throat as we talked about chasing tail when all that I fucking wanted was to make it through my shift and run my way home to you.”

Steve smiles fondly at Bucky. His head remains rested in the crook of his right elbow but reaches forward with his left to trail patterns on Bucky’s scent gland. Trailing back from his neck to his cheek, he will never understand how helpful he is just by existing.

“ I remember wanting you. I know there has never been a moment in which I existed, and I didn’t love you, even under hydra. Even when they told me- made me go after you. They had to wipe me twice before I stopped fighting… I should’ve kept fighting.”

“Buck-“ Steve’s tone is soft and reprimanding in the way only Steve Rogers could manage, but it’s not enough. The tears build behind grey and crimson. Shame burning him from the inside.

Bucky shakes his head, trying to shake away Steve’s tender touch.

Leaning forward, Steve ignores the alphas dismissal, warm petal-soft lips find Buckys, and he presses his weight deeper into his alpha.

“I’m here. With you. You stopped, Buck. You never, not for a second, stopped fighting! That wasn’t you.” Steve’s tone was loving and firm in the way only Steve Rogers could ever manage- or could ever feel for Bucky Barnes.

Bucky's eyes find crystal blue, and for a moment, he’s thrust back into his mind, his heart thrashing and growling, crying Not him! Not Steve. Stop! God damn it! You’re hurting him! We can’t hurt him!

For a moment, Steve’s sweet pink cheeks are bruised and bleeding, split by Russian metal and the free will Bucky was robbed of.

“Bucky!” Steve whispers harshly, just on the edge of frantic, “ C’mon, alpha. Don’t leave me alone again.”

“I’m here.”, Bucky chokes out, “ I’m here, baby. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

They hold each other for, neither of them speaking. Foreheads pressed together between grabby hands pushing firmly against heated flesh.

A reminder…

I’m alive. You’re okay. We’re together.

“ I remember those things; that panic of possibly losing you, very easily,” Bucky continues, “ And then… it started as flashes. Split seconds. But god, did I chase after them. It would be something minimal at first. You lying down on the bed or smiling at me over a sketchbook. But then they changed, and your head was thrown back, and the things you were drawing were us-naked. And I started hating myself because my fucking crush on you was filtering in on my memories of you, and it wasn’t fair. It felt real, but I knew it wasn’t or-“

“But they are real, Buck. We’ve always been us. This way! Laws be damned! We loved each other, and no one was gonna tell us we couldn’t have that!”

“It didn’t matter, though,” Bucky adds.

Steve shoots up off his chest, kneeling on the mattress, and as naked as the day he was born. More hurt than he thought he could ever be in his alphas arms, “ Of course it did. How could you say that? Wha-”

Bucky sits up quickly, reaching out, but Steve swiftly evades him, feeling colder than Brooklyn in February.

“Steve-“

“No! How could you say that? It matters! We matter. You matter. I fucking matter, Bucky! I lost you. You died! You fell off that train, and my alpha died!” he cries,

“I flew that plane into the ocean not because Captain America’s nobility prevails, I did it because l was grieving and life wasn’t worth living without you.”

“Steve-“

“No! Shut. Up.” Steve growls, but it sounds more like a whine.

“I died too, Buck. And woke up to a life I didn’t want either. Not just like you. I know what you went through was unthinkably cruel. But living without you was a prison sentence. And I had no choice but to wear red, white, and blue in place of orange and serve out my life miserably and without you. And that mattered.”

“I know, Stevie, I know. I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant, baby.”

“Then how else did you mean it?”

“There were things that I saw or remembered-whatever! But neither matter because fantasy is something that can never happen, and if it’s a memory, it will never happen again.”

Steve can feel his heart breaking in his chest. Angry and more than a little offended, he can practically feel the anguish emanating from his alpha’s skin.

“Because you wouldn’t want the blood-soaked into my hands to touch you. To touch your pretty perfect body, so I say your name, and I can’t stop because my alpha is always just before feral, and you are the only thing keeping Me on the side of sane. I know you matter. You’re the only thing on this entire fucked up bullshit infested planet that matters!”

“But the thought of losing you based on things I simply wanted and not what you needed from me? It didn’t matter- nothing mattered beyond you. I thought you wanted Bucky Barnes, the closeted best friend. I couldn’t trust myself to believe you wanted me in the 40s, and I couldn’t hope that if you had, you’d want me still.”

“You’re an idiot,” Steve sighs, eyes misting, but he lets himself be drawn in by strong, vulnerable arms.

“...I think I understand what you mean, though.”

“Yeah?”

“I wanted to say I miss you ao many times. But then I just...couldn’t. I thought it wouldn’t change anything, so I just kept pretending I didn’t. But then there are days when I wake up, and the fact that it’s without you won’t let me pretend anymore.”

“Now, who’s the idiot?” Bucky chuckles, brushing strands of hair from those hypnotizing blue eyes.

Bucky lets the Sympathy, understanding pool from his scent and settle over Steve like a warm blanket.

Smiling, Steve takes the comfort from his alpha in stride, “Of course, I talk like an idiot, Buck. How else are you ‘posed to understand me?”

Huffing a quick laugh, the ex-assassin feels all the love for this omega shine in a smile, “You’re such a fuckin’ punk, y’know that little omega?”

“ I’m your fuckin’ Punk, and besides, I’m not so little anymore.”

Whatever faithless semblance of decency they had left swiftly deteriorates as Bucky fully settles Steve into his lap, lying back into the cushions and pulling the duvet over them both.

He presses a soft kiss on Steve’s forehead and whispers with as much meaning he can muster, “You’re perfect, omegamine. Fuckin’ perfect! Perfect for me, you hear?”

Steve releases a joyful giggle,” I hear. Are we going to sleep, Alpha?”

“Yep!”

Snuggling deeper into the alpha’s chest, Steve feels content for the first time in what feels like forever, loving how perfectly he still fits in Bucky's arms, even all beefed up by the serum. Not a single gap between them.

“You comfortable, sweetheart?” Bucky asks happily. Certainly hearing and feeling Steve’s pleased purring.

“ I’m warm,” The omega mumbles, exhaustion barreling into him.

“Good. Sleep, Stevie. We'll talk more in the morning.”

Steve doesn’t respond, just nuzzles into his alpha more until his nose is close enough to the source of the brunette’s scent, humming satisfaction as he sniffs pleasantly.

“I never thought I’d get to have this. That you’d be in my arms like this. I thought I’d spend the rest of my life just pining after you-loving you. I love you, omegamine. I love you so much.”

Steve replies in soft snores, but Bucky doesn’t care. He presses a kiss to the top of ruffled blonde hair and falls asleep with a smile on his face.

He doesn't mind that Steve fell asleep because nothing else matters besides his blue-eyed beauty. Not when he has this. Not when Steve is soft and asleep and warm. He has the rest of his life to tell his omega he loves him.

One thing is for sure.

Bucky will never stop saying Steve’s name.