#i just don’t get to draw them as much anymore o(-(

[onetoomanyfandomfixations]

Helluva Boss Characters Reacting to You Asking for a Hug

Tbh this series is just for my own enjoyment at this point lmao

I’m so normal about them, I swear.

BLITZØ

Honestly, it depends on what type of relationship you have with him

Familial relationship? Best BELIEVE he’s coddling the shit outta you rn

^ def a cheek pincher

“Hey sweetie? Do you need me ta fuck someone up for ya?”

But if y’all are platonic, or SATAN FORBID

R O M A N T I C ?

Ur not getting Shit

Well, until you start crying

“You’re a fuckin’ baby, you know that?”

Very casual hugs

Always sits his chin on you

Will complain the entire time

But you both know he loves you

LOONA

“Oh shit, you good?”

She’s blunt, not heartless

Honestly pretty touched that you asked for a hug instead of just going for one

Like her adoptive dad, very casual hugs

Usually just slings an arm over your shoulders

Won’t talk to you about it

Y’all just sit in comforting silence

Don’t let anyone point out that she’s letting you touch her

Will get v flustered

Depending on how you both feel - may let you play with her hair to self regulate

MILLIE

“Sure thing, hun!”

Doesn’t matter who you are, or why you need a hug, she’ll take it

Physical affection is her top love language idc

Squeezes super super tight

Like, you can barely breathe

Gushes over how sweet you are

Will probs pepper your face in kisses too (doesn’t matter what ur relationship with her is)

((Millie is a strong believer in non-romantic kisses, she told me herself))

Will probs ask Moxxie to bring y’all a drink

MOXXIE

“Uhh, you sure you want a hug from me?”

Yes babe I’m sure

Doesn’t think he’s the best one to be comforting you - will palm you off to Millie if he can

But will be offended if anyone else says he can’t look after you

^^ Gets all huffy about it

Distraction is his new best friend

Will tell you a mixture of stories and fun facts to try and make you feel better

Will also make you a hot drink

If you want to, will talk out your feelings with you

STOLAS

Babes just blinks for a hot minute as your words register with him

Has the softest smile

“Of course, dearest. Come here.”

A hug isn’t enough for him, you’re in for a full blown cuddle sesh now

Likes the feeling of having you fully wrapped up in his arms

Forehead kisses. Forehead Kisses.

Will sometimes swaddle you in blankets like a literal baby

Hums softly for you

Tries to ask what’s wrong, will def push the subject

He just wants to fix it, okay?

Will just,,, smother you in affection until you’re okay

And then some

OCTAVIA

Judgemental eyebrow raise.

Judgy, judgy girl

Y’all gotta be CLOSE for her to hug

((But not really, she’s so touch starved its not funny, but we don’t talk about that-))

Long, comforting hugs

If u end up crying, will fix your makeup for you

Don’t mention it though

Like, literally don’t mention it or it won’t happen again

She probs just breathes a sigh of relief when y’all hugs

Holds on a little too tight, for a little too long

If you ask first, she’ll start coming to you for hugs now too

FIZZAROLLI

Baby. Baby, baby man.

Will wrap his arms around you several times over

Another really tight hugger

You had shit to do?

Sike, not anymore

Now you’re spending all day with Fizz

Your fault, you started it by asking for a hug

Is super worried about you, but tries to play it down

Will do stupid shit just to see you laugh

Will ALSO flirt with you until you can’t stand it anymore

ASMODEUS

Immediately concerned, does not try to hide it

Much like his bf, cancels all plans for today

Y’all are gonna be chilling in bed and cuddling now

Just kinda,,, scoops you up?

Definitely plays with your hair

Gives a SOLID head massage

So so gentle and sweet

Just lays you on his chest

Draws pictures on your back and makes you guess what he’s drawing

^^ he does this to help ground you

Tbh he’ll probably drag Fizz to bed too, so know they’re both looking after you

Mans isn’t gonna let anyone get left out

#helluva boss x reader #helluva x reader #helluva boss #helluva fizzarolli #helluva blitzo #helluva loona #helluva stolas #helluva asmodeus #blitzo x reader #loona x reader #millie x reader #millie x moxxie x reader #moxxie x reader #stolas x reader #octavia x reader #fizzaroli x reader #asmodeus x reader #viziepop #fandomfixations headcanons #fandomfixation hcs #fandomfications helluva boss #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #someone just pls hug me ok i need it

[princessbrunette]

bbf!rafe eeeeek!!! 💞 imagine if you ever invited a boy over while rafe and your brother are chilling!! Man would be angrier than your own family ! heck, he’d probably throw him out himself !!

╭────── · · 🐰 · · ──────╮

the two of them are lounging in the living room when he watches you pass by, a boy he’s never seen before being lead by your hand— the two of you headed upstairs. rafe does a double take, staring in disbelief as your brother totally ignores it — too focused on the game.

“you—you see that shit, man? your little sister is taking some low-life up to her bedroom, alone.” rafe leans over to him urgently, jutting a thumb over his shoulder in reference. your brother offers him no more than a glance, shrugging a shoulder as he brings his beer bottle to his mouth.

“so? she’s grown. can do what she wants, i don’t care.”

rafe’s eyes flutter in irritation as he licks his lips, shifting impatiently on the couch. “so? so she’s allowed to just have any guy round? she’s your little sister, man you’re meant to be protecting her. you think i just let sarah march in with whoever the fuck she wants? no, because— because i’m the man of the house. you gotta get that shit in check bro, or she’s not gonna respect you.” rafe manipulates. truthfully, he didn’t give a shit who sarah brought home as long as it wasn’t a guy he had beef with. that was simply an excuse to get your brother to see eye to eye with him.

it seems rafe’s rambling was starting to get on his nerves, distracting him from the game. he rolls his eyes, turning to him.

“shit, you care so much why don’t you go kick the guy out then?” he snaps and rafe sits back, thinking.

“yeah… yeah okay. i think i will.”

the door to your bedroom swings open a moment later, your head whipping round from where you sat on the bed. he leans on the doorframe, staring the guy down with his arms crossed over his chest.

“rafe!” you exclaim, horrified and he doesn’t even spare you a glance.

“out.” he orders to your company, the guy glancing between you and rafe.

“uh— wh…”

“am i speaking another language, bro? get out of her room before i come over there and drag you out myself. go.” he speaks slowly, aggressively, condescendingly like the dumbest man on earth was sat on your bed. the guy offers you an apologetic glance and scurries off.

rafe stares him down until he’s out of sight before casually swinging your door shut, shutting you in with him.

“rafe why the hell did you—”

“bet you thought that shit was real cute, huh?” he asks, beginning to pace as he scratches at his cheek, barking out a quiet malicious laugh. “yeah… yeah this had to be some… some ruse to make me, what? jealous?”

“he was my friend.” you avert your eyes, not even bothering to sound convincing anymore. he scoffs, shaking his head before blowing air out his mouth. slowly, his lips forming the ‘o’ shape as he does so audibly.

“friend, right. okay… you think i won’t beat the hell out of any guy that touches you? like — like i- i care who’s watching? nah, nah… maybe i should let your brother know what you’ve been lettin’ me do to you on the sly.”

“rafe.” you pout as he draws closer.

“what, you scared? the kid doesn’t give a shit who’s shovin’ his dick in you. made that crystal clear downstairs. so why should it matter if it’s me, huh?” he tugs at your jaw, dragging a thumb messily over your bottom lip. you let out a whine of disagreement and his eyes roll back before leaning down into your space. “you dont see me whorin’ myself out to randoms the same way you do, do you? why would i? my best friends little sister spreads her legs for me whenever i want it. would be a waste, right? i don’t wanna see you bringing home any more guests. is that understood?”

╰────── · · 🐰 · · ──────╯

#anon #bbf!rafe #rafe cameron prompt

[kalinysu]

Muzan with wife reader who failed a mission and is trying to avoid him after he yelled at her? extra fluff pls

𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐘. - Muzan x F!Reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: None/Small angst. (?)

𝐍𝗼𝐭𝐞𝐬: LAST thing i’ll write Muzan for a while. 😭

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You had been avoiding Muzan for days. At first, he didn’t take the time to realize as he had been far too busy with other things to pay your obvious distancing any mind. He also never thought of you being upset with him for something that he did so often. Yelling? He’s yelled at practically everyone.

But you, you were his wife. That was the first time he had yelled at you, and you thought that he would treat you differently because you were his wife. But he yelled and got really angry with you, just like every other demon. It hurt you, more than he realized. And the fact that the two of you hadn’t talked in days and he didn’t notice, or rather didn’t care that something was up hurt even more.

You had been cooped up in your room for a while, and nobody had ever checked up on you or anything at all, not even your own husband.

Not that you expected it, everyone had been busy with the demon slayers and such. But still, he was your husband, and he had to have even a little free time at some point. You were sulking in bed, losing track of time, until finally, someone had opened your door.

“Get up, do something productive, like finding me that flower.”

Your husbands deep voice rang out as he rummaged through your drawing and took something before leaving without another word. The fact that he was now telling you only to find the flower stung. He most likely thought you were incapable of doing anything else.

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Days had gone by now, you had nothing, and it seemed Muzan was only growing more and more irritated as time went by. You had lost all hope of him ever coming to see you for even a split second of affection.

You were outside, somewhere. An unknown location, simply sitting on a hill in the moonlight. The flowers were pretty, but you couldn’t take the time to admire them. You were far too lost in your thoughts. You didn’t care for the flowers if they weren’t the one Muzan wanted.

Suddenly, you noticed someone sit down beside you.

Your husband.

Neither of you spoke, even though you really wanted to. It wasn’t an awkward silence, the two of you just knew it wasn’t the right time to talk. Well, you knew. Muzan didn’t talk because he didn’t want to or feel like it. He’s always been like that. He rarely showed affection through his words, but you didn’t mind to much, especially not anymore. You had grown used to the small gestures of affection from a while ago, but now you were convinced they had stopped.

“.. My lord if.. If i’ve done something to offend you—“ You started, not looking at him as you spoke.

“You’ve been distant.”

You looked up at him. He wasn’t looking at you, not avoiding, but simply looking across the hills. “You haven’t spoke to me in so long.. You have only uttered few words but those were orders, and weren’t frequent either.” You said, hugging your knees.

“Am I supposed to come to you? What happened to you coming to me?”

Your husband said. It sounded cold, but you knew that wasn’t his intention. You usually always came to him, showing affection and in return receiving affection back. He was right, you never went to him anymore. But..

“It seems you’ve been mad at me..”

“I was mad, but that’s no reason not to come to me. I’ve been irritable lately with all these nuisances.”

“But if your irritated.. you don’t have to take your anger out o..” You trailed off, going silent before you could even finish your sentence as you noticed him glaring at you. Looking away uncomfortably you mumbled slightly. “..Nevermind— I.. It’s fine but—“

“Sorry.”

You blinked a few times, wondering if you were hearing things. You looked back at him. “Hu—“

“I don’t like repeating myself.”

You went quiet.

“Your supposed to say you forgive me.”

“Right!!— I forgive you.” You said, still a little shocked he had actually apologized. You’d never heard that word come out of his mouth before, unless he was mocking someone but that was different.

“—‘My lord’?”

“—My lord.” You added, a small smile playing on your lips at the reminder. You leaned against his shoulder slightly, and in return, he placed a hand on your waist.

“Don’t avoid me like that again.”

His hand came up to your shoulder, pulling you closer to him, before he leaned down and placed a kiss on your head. When was the last time you had kissed him. You looked up at him.

“No.”

“No? No to what?” You said, with a fake innocence, before quickly giving him a peck on the lips before he could speak.

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#demon slayer #demon slayer roleplay #muzan #lord muzan #muzan imagine #yandere muzan #muzan x reader #demon slayer muzan #kny muzan #muzan kibutsuji #kimetsu no yaiba muzan #muzan x y/n #muzan x you #muzan headcanons #kny x reader #kimetsu no yaiba

[evansbby]

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟒

part iv - just like animals

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dark alpha!Steve Rogers x naive omega!Reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut, major angst, extremely dark themes, a/b/o dynamic, daddy!kink, dubcon, dumbification, bullying, breeding kink, pregnancy kink, size kink, housewife kink, semi-public sex, pussyjob, oral (f receiving),  extreme depictions of bullying and depression, 18+ only, minors do not interact!  

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You begin to lose hope, and Steve begins to lose his mind.

Series Masterlist 

𝐀/𝐍: Another warning that the angsty content and certain themes in this chapter may be difficult to read. Warnings are there for a reason. Apart from that, thank you so much for being so patient. It took me more than 4 months to write this and it’s 22.2k words long. Enjoy.

Pregnant.

You stare so hard your vision blurs, until the two lines on the test are swimming around comically, almost as if they’re laughing at you. And then you’re blinking rapidly, because your eyes must be playing some kind of cruel trick, right? This can’t be real, this can’t be real, this can’t be real.

You’re pregnant. With Steve’s baby.

It’s with an almost detached silence that you get up and wrap all three tests in a big wad of toilet paper. Like you’re floating through the air, you stuff them under your shirt and make your way out of the room. With Steve still asleep, you venture downstairs and out the front door, the chilly morning air having no effect on you.

You bury the tests at the bottom of the garbage bin, like how you’re currently trying to bury all the emotions threatening to spill out of you. A baby. Inside you. Right at this moment. Steve’s baby. Your hand twitches, reaching up to touch your stomach before you stop yourself. What were you going to do now?

Steve reaches for you when you return to the bedroom, he looks half-asleep as he pulls you back into bed. You wonder whether here, cocooned in cosy warmth, you can just scrunch your eyes up real tight and pretend none of this is happening right now…

“Where did you go?”

“Steve, I… I’m…” Your throat constricts, and panic rises within you like bile as you try to regulate your breathing. “I just went downstairs to drink water.”

Steve hums, drawing you closer and burying his face in your neck while you lie completely still. As if any movement would somehow expose the fact that you’re pregnant. He peppers soft kisses onto your skin, tugging your shirt down to expose more of your neck.

“I’m gonna take you out for dinner tonight.” He says softly, and it’s the last thing you were expecting to hear from him right now. His lips drag up to kiss the corner of your mouth before moving down to your jaw, his hands stroking up and down your body as he holds you close. “You have an exam this morning, don’t you?”

You don’t know whether to laugh or cry at the fact that you’d forgotten you have an exam today.

“Y-Yeah.”

“Mm, so I’ll take you out after. Anywhere you want to go. We can even go shopping before that, I’ll buy you whatever you want.” Steve’s arms encircle around your waist, pulling you up as he rolls onto his back, so that you’re lying on his chest. He blinks up at you, blue eyes suddenly serious, “I want you to forget about everything that happened last night, omega.”

And just like that, it all comes rushing back to you. Like a hurtling freight train that had been momentarily kept at bay because you’d just found out you were pregnant. But now the memories come back at lightning speed. Bucky. Steve Junior. The fight. How Steve hadn’t defended you. How he’d left.

How he’d cheated on you.

How you’d begged him not to leave you.

“Forget all of it.” Steve repeats, cupping your face with both his hands. “None of that’s important anymore, as long as you’ll be good from now on.”

And just like that, he wants you to forget. Move on in a blink of an eye. Forget his cheating, his casual cruelty, how he’d laughed when you’d cried. How he’d told you every detail of his encounter with that other omega, how it had felt like you’d been punched in the gut repeatedly.

How could he expect you to forget? By pretending it never happened and distracting you with shopping trips, gifts and dinners? Was that his way of compensating? Didn’t he feel even a tiny bit of remorse? Could he even acknowledge how much he’d hurt you?

There’s a part of you, underneath all the newfound shock of being pregnant, that wants to confront him about all of it.

Instead, you nod mechanically. “Okay, Steve.”

“Good girl.” He kisses you a few more times before sitting up and setting you down next to him. “Pick a restaurant and text me, I’ll make the reservation.”

With baited breath, you watch him as he gets up, moving around the room to get ready for the day. You know that he’s got his morning run, then a gym session and then two exams back-to-back– which means you won’t see him until a lot later. Maybe it would give you enough time to gather your thoughts and make sense of your situation before you tell him.

***

Your own exam goes by in a blur. It doesn’t help that all you can think about is the fact that there’s literal life growing inside of you, but you somehow soldier through. With nerves mounting, you walk from the university building back to Steve’s house almost in a daze. Worries, questions, concerns, and fears swim around in your head like a school of frenzied fish. What are you going to do?

Acting on desperate impulse alone, you whip your phone out. Shaky fingers scroll desperately, searching for one blocked contact in particular. Almost in a frenzy, you tap on his name, unblocking him and calling him before you can change your mind.

“H-Hello? Peter?”

It takes a few moments for him to register that it’s you, and then:

“Oh my God. Are you okay?!”

The familiarity of Peter’s voice makes you want to cry, the sound bringing back fleeting memories of sitting on his sofa with a bowl of popcorn and a movie, complaining to him about all the alphas in your lectures. Playing computer games on his laptop and laughing when you beat him. Catching the bus to his house after days of not speaking to anyone at university, and the relief you’d feel when he’d open the door…

“I’m… I…Peter, I…”

You’re suddenly awash with shame. The last time you’d seen Peter, his face was spurting blood after being punched several times by Steve. And you hadn’t even bothered to call or text him after that, hadn’t bothered to see if he was okay. Granted, that was also the night Steve had mated you – oh, how could you ever explain all of this mess to Peter?

“Are you okay?” Peter repeats. “I tried to call so many times but you blocked me.” A pause, and then he adds: “Don’t worry, I realised that was probably Steve’s doing.”

You swallow harshly, “I should’ve called you. It’s just… He… He…” But you couldn’t blame it all on Steve, could you? In the past month and a half, it’s not like you’d gone out of your way to contact Peter. No, after Steve had mated you, it was like he’d consumed you, eaten you alive. Wrapped you up in this little bubble where it was just you and him and no one else mattered. A bubble you clearly had been in no hurry to escape from until it had popped unceremoniously all over your face.

“Is he treating you okay?” Peter’s question sounds tentative, as if he doesn’t quite believe his own words.

“No, Peter, I–” A strangled sob escapes your throat from out of nowhere, and you can feel the flimsy threads holding you together as they begin to come apart. “Everything’s a mess, a big fat mess and I don’t know what I’m going to do!”

“What happened? Did he hurt you?”

Why had you called him? How could you even begin to tell him everything you’d been through in the past twenty-four hours? Would Peter ultimately even care to listen to you complain about the man you’d cheated on him with? The man who you’d been living with for the past month, acting like his good little omega while pretending Peter no longer existed?

“It’s all a big mess.” You moan pathetically, hating yourself for how you sound. Here you were, hurt by one man and immediately trying to hurtle yourself into the arms of another. Stupid. Pathetic. Dumb. Careless. You’d gotten yourself into this mess. Just like Steve said – all your fault.

Your hand finds its way to your stomach, stroking it softly through the material of your dress. For a split second, you close your eyes and try and picture it. You, with a baby in your arms. Your very own baby – it looks exactly like you. And Steve coming home, smiling happily as he kisses you and takes your child, swinging it around while it giggles.

But like ink spilling on paper, the image darkens. Now it’s you alone with your baby. Cold, dark, dreary. Steve’s gone. He left you. Left you and left your baby. For that other omega. Left you just like how your dad left too. And it’s all your fault, all your fault, all your fault! Steve’s voice chanting in your head while your baby cries: all your fault, all your fault, all your fault!

“Hello? Are you still there?” Peter’s voice drags you out of your mind. “Look, just tell me what happened. I can help you. I know I wasn’t much help last time but I can help you now. We can figure something out, just tell me where you are, and–”

“I’m sorry,” You interrupt him, swallowing harshly. What had you hoped to achieve by calling your ex-boyfriend and telling him that your current boyfriend got you pregnant? No, you couldn’t do that to Peter. “Look, I don’t know why I called, I can’t drag you into my mess.”

“You haven’t even told me what the mess is–”

“I’m sorry, Peter.” You choke out before quickly hanging up. Methodically, you delete the call history and block his number once more. And then, it’s with almost mechanical grace that you wipe away your tears and clear your throat.

This is your mess. You have to handle it by yourself.

Still reeling from the impulsive phone-call and it’s abrupt ending, you walk the rest of the way back to Steve’s house in a daze of different emotions, wanting nothing more than to just escape your mind which seems to be working in overdrive. Reaching the front door, you’re about to twist the doorknob when you hear a click and the door swings open from the inside.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Little Miss Omega.” Words dripping with smug delight as if he’s caught you with your hand in the cookie jar, Bucky leans against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest and a wolfish grin on his face, “Was that you I just saw on the phone?”

You duck your head, hoping to just ignore the alpha, nudge past him and run up to yours’ and Steve’s bedroom. But Bucky easily blocks your path, leaving you standing outside on the porch and looking up at him in dismay. Again, you try to push past him but he’s too big, too strong, barely budging.

“I asked you a question. Who were you on the phone with? I bet Stevie doesn’t know, does he?”

Bucky intimidates you, with his light blue eyes and cold gaze. The way he’s always staring. And you don’t think you’ll ever forgive him for what he did to poor Steve Junior. Hands curling into fists by your sides, you can’t help but look to the ground, “I was talking to a friend about a textbook I’m looking for.”

“Nice try, sweetheart. Everyone knows you don’t have any friends.”

“Just let me in!” You try and be assertive, but shoving past him does you no good – just like Steve, he’s practically built like a brick wall.

“Let’s put it to a vote, shall we?” Bucky turns his head slightly, “Hey, Sam. Should I let little omega into the house?”

Over Bucky’s shoulder, you see Sam on the couch, feet propped up on the coffee table and a joint between his fingers, a slightly glazed look over his eyes. “I don’t give a fuck, man.”

“I’ll take that as a no. Sorry, sweetheart. I guess Steve should’ve trusted you with keys.” And you can’t believe it when the door slams in your face. You stand there in shock for a few seconds, wrapping your head around exactly what’s just happened. Overhead, the clouds grow darker and you hear a boom of thunder that has your chest tightening.

Hurriedly, you knock on the door once more, trying to persuade yourself that they’re just doing what they always do – acting like alpha jerks and joking around. Of course, they’ll let you in soon – they’d have to be heartless not to.

“Please let me in!” You call out, knocks becoming more incessant as panic begins to bubble inside of you – you’re not too fond of thunder, “Bucky, Sam, please! I think it’s gonna start raining!”

A rush of cold air has you shivering down to the bone, goosebumps rising up and down your limbs. It had been warm in the morning, so you’d worn only a light sundress – absolutely not ideal for the rainstorm that’s clearly about to hit.

“Guys, please!” You cry out again, and it comes out as a whimper. Bucky’s been awful as of late, but maybe Sam would grow irritated by your cries and come to open the door? That’s all you can hope for as you continue to slam your fists against the door harder and harder.

Suddenly, the door opens and you sag with relief until you see it’s Bucky again.

“L-Let me in. Please.” You hate that you have to beg him like this, after everything he’s said and done to you in the past. How he tore Steve Junior, how he called you a bitch in heat. Oh, how badly you wish Steve was here. But then, would Steve have even done anything at all?

Bucky tilts his head as if he’s pretending to think, “How about we strike up a bargain, sweetheart? You give me a kiss, and I’ll let you in.”

It’s as if someone’s dunked poison into your veins. Ugly, green poison that gives you a bad feeling and a bad taste all at once. You take a step back almost cautiously, “N-No.”

“You sure, omega?” Bucky licks his lips, pushing his brown hair out of his face as his gaze drinks you in hungrily. “It’s awfully cold out there, and nice and warm in here. All it’s gonna cost you is one kiss. And don’t worry, I won’t tell Steve.”

You jut your chin out, “No. I’m not going to kiss you. You’re Steve’s best friend, you shouldn’t be acting like this anyway.”

It’s like it’s all a game to him, because Bucky just smiles wickedly, reaching out to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. Revulsion overtakes your body, and you take another step back, blanching before giving him a pleading look.

“Acting like what? I told you, I won’t tell Steve.” He tries to grab you, but you’re quick to dodge him, “Come on, omega. It’s not like Steve’s gonna care anyways. I was there when he cheated on you. I didn’t understand it, if I had a hot piece of ass like you in my bed– I’d never do what he did.”

You bite your lip. The pain is still so fresh, the memory of Steve so nonchalantly telling you how he’d cheated on you, how he didn’t have a mark on his neck that tethered him to you. You’re crestfallen, but there’s a certain fury that awakens inside you too, because you hate how Bucky’s talking about it, you hate how he knows, you hate how he’s using it to his advantage.

“JUST SHUT UP!”

You’ve never yelled at an alpha like this before, your voice sounding over a clap of thunder that hits at that exact moment, “Shut up, okay? My relationship with Steve is none of your business. So just please, please leave me alone and let me in.” And once again you try to barge your way past him, pushing against his arm with all your strength but getting absolutely nowhere with it.

“Listen, you little bitch. Don’t fucking raise your voice at me.” Bucky is quick to grab your arm, twisting it roughly behind your back and making you cry out in pain. “And stop trying to act all high and mighty, like you’re above kissing me. You’re just a pathetic little scholarship slut omega, remember that.”

“Please! It hurts!”

“It hurts!” He mimics, face inches from yours as he sneers down at you, “When are you gonna realise that no one cares when you hurt? Least of all Steve.” His lips are so close to yours, and you can feel his breath on your face as he speaks, “So, what do you say about that kiss, hm, sweetheart? He cheated on you, now’s your chance to do the same. An eye for an eye.”

“No! I’m not going to kiss you, okay? I don’t want to!” You cry out, trying with all your might to wiggle out of his grasp until he cruelly pushes you away and you stumble down the front steps of the house.

“Fine. Suit yourself, omega slut.”

And the door slams shut again, followed by the unmistakable click of the lock. And this time, you know Bucky isn’t coming back to open it. Another clap of thunder, a ripple of lightning and now heavy rain is falling down in earnest. For a few seconds, you just watch in disbelief as the icy cold water soaks through your clothes.

Then you run up against the window, pounding on it, hoping that maybe Sam will let you in. But Sam looks like he’s passed out on the couch and dead to the world around him. And Bucky just sits there, cigarette in mouth and phone in hand, pretending as if he hasn’t just heartlessly locked you outside in the heavy rainfall.

And the rain is unforgiving, so cold as it pelts downwards. Fat droplets of icy water beating down on your head – it’s already soaked through your dress and everything from your hair to your phone is dripping wet.

Once more, you slam your fists on the door, yelling out both their names, begging and pleading to be let in. You shake and rattle the doorknob, you pound at the glass of the window, at one point you even hurl your whole body into the door to maybe break it open – but to no avail.

“Please! It’s c-cold out here!” Your voice comes out hoarse from all the pleading you’ve been doing, and you can’t tell whether it’s rainwater or tears smeared all over your face, “Please let me in! I d-don’t know what I did to you but please, just let me in!”

It’s in the middle of your hundredth ‘please’ that you finally stop, clamping your shivering mouth shut because what’s the point? All this begging, all this pleading, just in the hopes that the two worst people you know might feel sorry for you? When they never have in the past? When they’ve been awful to you every chance they got, despite the fact that you’ve been nothing but polite to them?

No. Bucky and Sam don’t deserve your begging.

You find yourself sinking down on the steps. You contemplate calling Steve, but one glance at the black screen of your phone and you know it’s either dead or the rainwater got to it.

The library was closed for maintenance, and walking to the nearest campus building would be impossible in this rain. Even your old dorm is out of the question, because Steve has the keys to it. And slowly, as the cold numbness begins to spread across your fingertips and up your arms, you feel a sudden numbness in your mind too.

This despairing feeling of no hope, cruelly snatching away any need to survive. You feel your body switch off, the feeling of deadly indifference overtaking you. You bury your head between your legs, wrapping your arms around yourself to preserve any body-heat.

Steve should be home by now... But he isn’t, he isn’t, he isn’t! The voice inside you mocks. He’s probably with that other omega…Cosy in her dorm room, probably kissing her…

You don’t know how long you sit there in the pounding rain, feeling it beat unforgivingly down your head and back. A part of you wants to drown in the rainwater, or let it wash you away and take you somewhere far. Somewhere where it isn’t so wet and so cold, where everyone isn’t so horrible.

The car headlights don’t really register in your head, and neither does the rough hand that grabs your arm a few moments later, shaking you and calling out your name repeatedly. You just keep your head in your lap, hoping and praying that the cold goes away.

“Can you hear me? What the fuck are you doing out here?” Steve demands, grabbing both your shoulders now and shaking them heftily, making you look up slowly and blink. Your vision is completely blurred, and again it’s either from the rain or your tears – you don’t know. But you see Steve’s halo of blonde hair glimmering in the rain, and the furrow of his brow.

You open your mouth but nothing comes out as Steve yanks you up to your feet, pulling you towards the door.

“Did you hear what I just asked you? What are you doing out here in the rain? Are you insane?” He has to raise his voice to be heard above the deathly patter.

“W-Wouldn’t let me in.” You mumble faintly as Steve fishes for his keys, pulling them out of his pocket and unlocking the door in record time, pushing you inside before following you.

“What?” He repeats once you’re both inside, “What did you say?”

The warmth is immediate but you feel no relief – just that same numbness from before. You’re dripping all over the floor, cold beyond belief as you look down at your ruined shoes.

“Th-They wouldn’t let me in.”

It comes out so quiet, so pitiful, so weak and resigned. Because you know he won’t care, that he’ll downplay it. But Steve’s blue eyes blaze with fury once realisation sets in. Face red and knuckles white, he turns to the living room. You must’ve been outside for a while because Sam is gone, and there’s only Bucky who sits with his feet reclined on the coffee table, casually typing away on his phone.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, asshole?” Steve roars, striding into the living room and grabbing Bucky by the collar, yanking him up to his feet.

“Hey, hey, let the fuck go of me.” Bucky’s got a glare on his face as the blond alpha slams him against the wall, “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Don’t act fucking stupid,” Steve sneers, “She was outside in the rain for God knows how fucking long. Look at her. She said you wouldn’t let her in.”

Bucky’s gaze shifts towards you, and you know you look like a dishevelled, soaking mess. There’s a split second where his eyes widen, and his throat bobs as he swallows. Then he blinks, that familiarly cruel smirk returning, “Oh. I guess I didn’t hear her knock.”

“Bullshit.”

“What’s going on–?” Sam chooses that moment to come thudding down the stairs. He stops short when he sees you shivering at the landing and the sizable puddle of rainwater by your feet.

“Why would you do it?” Steve slams Bucky against the wall once more, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him this angry. Except the night he mated you.

“Relax the fuck out. It was a joke. Don’t act like you haven’t done shit like this before.”

“Don’t fucking joke with her.”

“I’ll joke with whoever the fuck I want, asshole. Just like how you used to,” Bucky sneers, “before you got yourself whipped on that omega slut.”

The look on Steve’s face is one of absolute livid fury, and he’s about to draw his fist back when–

“Steve, she looks like she’s hypothermic or something.” It’s Sam who speaks, stepping forward and swiftly coming between them. Steve glances at you before looking back at Bucky, giving the brunet one last menacing look before shoving him, then shoving Sam and making his way over to you.

“Both of you can go to hell.” He mutters, blue eyes still filled with rage as he grabs your arm. He inhales sharply, as if stung by how cold your skin feels. And ‘feel’ is a strong word because what you can’t feel is your toes, your fingers, the tip of your nose. And you can’t stop the violent, body-wracking shivers as your body fails to heat itself up.

Steve tries to pull you up the stairs, but it’s like you’re a solid block of ice – half frozen from cold and from the shock of everything that’s happened. Eventually, he just picks you up, carrying you up the stairs as you remain stiff in his arms.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you repeat the words in choked whispers till they lose meaning. And you don’t know what you’re apologising for, but you know Steve’s angry. Which means he’ll be angry at you – maybe for making him fight with his friends? Causing a huge commotion because you cried like a baby for being locked outside? Would he blame you again, tell you it’s all your fault?

Would he leave you?

“I’m s-s-sorry,” you can’t keep your teeth from chattering but you keep repeating it nonetheless, scared of what he might do, what your punishment will be, as he carries you up into his room, slamming the door shut behind him.

You risk a look up at his face. There’s still anger in his eyes as he scans over your body, the way you’re trembling in his arms, cold fingers gripping onto him tightly. And for a moment, he just stands there. Stands there in the middle of his room as if he has no idea what to do, almost as if he’s at a loss.

“You’re really cold.” It’s all he says, and then he carries you into the bathroom, easily holding you close with one arm, and manoeuvring the other to open the tap and fill the bathtub with scalding hot water. You can see the steam rising invitingly, but it’s like all hope’s been snuffed out from within you – you don’t really care about getting warm anymore.

“A-A-Are you m-mad at me?” You ask Steve quietly, but maybe it’s too quiet, or maybe you asked it in your head because he doesn’t respond. Instead, he gently puts you down on your feet, unzipping your dress and taking it off, and then your shoes and sopping wet socks too. That’s when you realise you can’t feel your toes either.

The bath is boiling hot but it only feels lukewarm against your poor, cold-stricken body. He’s filled it up till the brim, so you sit there with your chin resting on your knees and arms wrapped around your legs protectively, as if any moment he’s going to turn on you, yell at you, tell you it’s your fault. And then you expect Steve to leave, and he almost does once he turns the faucet off. But he hesitates at the doorway, as if he’s afraid to leave you alone in the bathroom.

Finally, he decides to stay, sitting down on the floor next to the bathtub, his eyes glued to you. But the anger seems to be gone (or maybe he’s hiding it?). For a long while, no one says anything. And it’s there, in Steve’s bathroom as you sit in the scalding water, that something seems to break inside of you. As if any will you may have had has been sapped out of your body, leaving just a shell behind.

Steve clears his throat, “Are you still cold?”

Silence.

“Omega. Answer me.”

You don’t. Or you can’t. He seems far away.

“Do you want me to make the water hotter?”

Why is he being nice? Is it an act? Is he trying to trick you? Why hasn’t he punished you yet? This is all your fault, isn’t it? Isn’t it?

You stare straight ahead at the tiled wall in front of you. It’s black and white marble. Minimalistic. A simple pattern.

“Is there something written on my face that makes people to treat me like crap?”

It’s you who speaks – but you almost don’t recognise it. Clear, void of any emotion and no stutter. You feel like a ghost, out of your own body and watching yourself from a corner, resigned and not caring what happens next.

And Steve seems slightly taken aback – maybe he expected you not to speak at all. Maybe he only expected you to cry like you always do. But it’s as if you’ve cried all the tears you possibly can, and your body has no more left to give. It’s like you have nothing left inside you to give.

“They shouldn’t have done that.” Steve says darkly, “I’ll make sure they don’t pull shit like that ever again.”

You blink, but don’t respond. You know in your heart that you don’t believe him – not when he picks and chooses when to defend you.

“Is there something so glaringly wrong with me, that it makes people treat me like shit? You should know if there is, because you’re the one who started it, Steve. They wouldn’t be bullying me – no one would be bullying me – if it weren’t for you.”

You feel nothing as you say it, almost as if your body’s given up on protecting you; your tongue allowing you to say things that you’ve only ever dared to think about before. You were profusely apologising to him not five minutes ago, but now it’s like you can’t stop yourself from saying what’s been festering at the back of your mind for who knows how long. But your tone isn’t accusatory, just monotonous. You focus on the pattern on the wall – black, white, black, white, black, white. One white tile has a crack in it. A small one, but it’s there.

“Why did you bully me, Steve? What did I ever do to you, except keep my head down and mind my own business? Did you hate me that much? Do they hate me that much?”

Through your peripheral, you can see him holding his head in his hands for a second. And then he looks up, does that thing where he runs his hands through his hair. Eyes squeezed shut for a second, he opens them and looks down at you, and his hand hovers in the air for a second as if to grab yours, only to snatch it back at the last second.

“I don’t hate you.”

“Why did you treat me so awful, then? And persuade everyone else to do the same?”

Silence. No answer. But it’s not like you expected any different. You fold more within yourself, hugging your knees closer to your chest and letting a huge wave of shivers overtake you.

“Can you just… Could I be alone, please?”

He doesn’t budge even an inch, and again you get the feeling like he’s scared to leave you by yourself. But it feels even more alien when his hand comes up to stroke your hair back. The omega inside you sings for his touch but for once it’s like the numbness within you is overshadowing your base omega desires. You duck away from his hand, making him freeze and snatch it back once again.

After a few beats of silence, you speak once more.

“It’s me, isn’t it? There’s something about me that people just don’t like.  No matter how hard I try, how nice I act – it always seems to come back and slap me in the face.”

Steve, his tongue always ready with cajoling words and sweet nothings, seems to have nothing to say. You’ll never figure out how to read his expressions, but his brow is furrowed and lips pressed into a thin line.

“I’ve kept quiet all my life, kept my head down, kept out of everyone’s way – but none of it works.” You meet his gaze, that forever unreadable look; “Please… Please tell me why it never works?”

“I told you; I’ll make sure they never do shit like that again. You won’t have to worry anymore; I’ll make sure they don’t even speak to you–”

“You told me once that nobody cares about me.” You pick at your nails, sounding both broken and matter-of-fact at the same time, thinking back to Bucky’s words from earlier: No one cares if you hurt. “And you’re… you’re right, Steve. No one really does, otherwise Bucky and Sam would have just let me in. And no one would’ve ever bullied me. And… And my mom would answer my texts, and…” A sudden wave of anguish washes over you, “And my dad wouldn’t have left me.”

You don’t know why you’re telling him this now, but it seems like everything’s finally connecting in your head – everyone will leave you, even Steve. The alpha sucks in his breath, and again it’s like his fingers are dancing, creeping over to grab your hand that lays limply on the rim of the bathtub. And this time, he does, squeezing tightly except you’re so emotionally numb that you can’t even feel it.

“You know he left because he wanted a boy? An alpha? You were right, he didn’t care about me, left before my first birthday.” The pain associated with the one thing you never talk about, that you never even think about, is so strong that it almost winds you, and it makes your heart hurt. “N-Now he has a new family. Two sons. He even has a daughter, but I don’t think he’d ever leave her like he left me.”

Steve’s grip on your hand tightens, and you hear this growling sound that comes from his chest. But you’re so far down this well made up of your own pain and anguish, that it’s like Steve’s almost not even there.

“I don’t think my mom ever forgave me for him leaving. And you were right when you said that she doesn’t care about me either. I don’t remember the last time she called me, or even texted to check up on me.” You look up to see him open his mouth to speak but you beat him to it, “Steve, sometimes I… sometimes I hate myself for being like this, for driving everyone away.”

Steve whips his blonde hair out of his face, suddenly sitting up straighter and eyes molten blue with new heat, shoulders squared as if he’s defensive, “Don’t say shit like that.”

“But it’s true. And I drove you away too. To that other omega.” And now fresh anguish cuts through, splicing you open like a knife, the same pain you felt the moment Steve told you he’d kissed someone else.

“You didn’t drive me away–”

“That’s what you told me. You said it was my fault. And it was, and I made you cheat on me. All my fault – that’s what you said.”

“I didn’t mean–” He grabs your face, hands rough and calloused but so familiar, as if a thousand others could touch you at the same time but his touch is the only one you could ever recognise. Face inches from yours and intense gaze boring into you, he exhales sharply, “I didn’t cheat on you, omega. I don’t think you understand what cheating means, but kissing someone is not–”

“I’m not dumb.” You interrupt, and it’s funny because you wouldn’t have dared to ever interrupt him before now. But it’s like you’re a ghost, outside of your own body and long past the point of caring. “Maybe I’m a bit naïve but I know what cheating is.” Tears would’ve been flowing down your cheeks at this point, had you any tears left to cry, “And you know the worst part? You laughed as you told me.”

Steve shuts his eyes again for a second, really scrunches them up and you can see the furrow of his brow, the clench of his jaw. But you don’t know what any of it even means – is he angry with you? Annoyed? Irritated? Do you care?

“It didn’t mean anything with her. I came home to you in the end.”

It meant everything to me! You want to yell, but instead you sink down lower into the water, wanting it to swallow you up, pull you down the drain and away from everything. But strong hands grip your forearms, jerking you back up almost immediately. You suck in your breath before turning to face him, properly face him, “You still kissed her. And you– you gloated about it; told me it was my fault. N-Now you’re gonna leave me just like my dad did. Leave me for her.”

Steve shakes his head, his knuckles white from gripping your shoulders so tightly, “I don’t even remember her face.” He lifts you out of the tub, and you don’t even struggle because what’s the point? The fight seems to have left your body completely. He places you on his lap, naked and wet and trembling, strong arms encircling around you as they’ve done a thousand times before when he’s ready to sway you with his sweet words, “Omega. Listen to me, she meant nothing to me.”

“I don’t think I mean anything to you either.” It’s both an observation and a realisation. All these weeks of trying to persuade yourself that Steve has changed, that Steve’s good to you now, that surely Steve wouldn’t treat you how he treated Sharon. It’s a delayed reaction, but now you’re sure of it. As Bucky said: no one cares if you hurt. Least of all, Steve.

“You mean everyth–” Steve cuts himself off with another deep inhale, the muscles and veins in his neck tensing, “You mean a lot to me–”

“Don’t,” You interrupt him again, “Don’t say things you don’t mean, Steve. You do it all the time and I’ll always believe it – and it’ll all be a lie because it always is.” You shake your head, looking up into his shadowed blue eyes and feeling that lurch in your heart you always feel. “I’ll always fall for your words, Steve. Because you made me fall for you.”

A surge of indescribable anger overtakes you, washing over you like a tidal wave, drenching your already wet body in confused, accusatory rage. Feebly, as if testing the waters, you shove him. It’s a slight push against his chest, but then you do it again with a little more strength. And then again. He’s so strong, so big, so well-built, that he doesn’t even budge but you push him again anyways.

“I hate you for making me fall for you, even though you treated me like dirt at the bottom of your shoe!” You cry, shoving him harder while all Steve does is stare at you with that damned unreadable expression, “I hate you for not standing up for me,” Another shove, harder this time, and then another one, “I hate you for cheating on me, for laughing while you watched me cry. I hate you for making me care so much that it felt like my whole world ended when you told me you kissed her!”

Again and again, you hit him; and every time he just lets you do it. Not even raising a hand to defend himself, just allowing your pushes, slaps, punches and shoves to slam against his shoulders and chest. And everything’s a blur to you, black and white bathroom tiles melting into the blues in Steve’s eyes, and again you shove him, harder and harder, not even knowing you had this animosity inside of you until it came pouring out.

“I hate you for bonding with me when you don’t even care about me. Hate you for making me beg you not to leave me, hate you, hate you, I hate you!” Louder and louder your voice gets, till it’s bouncing off the walls of the bathroom, and you think you see a chip in Steve’s stoic expression when he winces, and you hit him even harder. You’ve never hit anyone in your life but it’s like you can’t stop, this animalistic anger radiating off you in waves.

He catches your fists in his hands easily, as easily as he’s crushed and stomped on your trust and feelings in the past. And he pulls you into him, muscular arms wrapping around you, clutching you to his chest, holding you there while you struggle against him, shove and punch and push, until you finally stop.

“I don’t hate you,” You whisper in defeat, “I can’t hate you – no matter how hard I try, no matter how much I should. I wish I did, but I can’t.” You lower your fists, sagging against his chest in defeat, voice breaking as finally, finally, the tears begin to fall. “Can’t hate you, Steve. Not even a little bit.”

Everything’s still. You. Him. The water in the bathtub. And then:

“I won’t hurt you again.” Steve’s voice comes out oddly thick.

“You’ll leave me.”

“I won’t.”

You stare at your hands, fingers shrivelled from the water, trembling from all the screaming you’ve just done, “Don’t believe you anymore.”

Steve sucks in his breath, and you look up to see him tug at his sweater, pulling it down to expose his neck, pale yet so thick and veiny, connecting to his muscular shoulders. He tilts his head slightly, eyes dark and deathly serious, blinking rapidly with a desperation that you’ve never seen on him before.

“Mark me too.”

Your head whips up, heart skipping several beats. Desperately, you search his face for a sign that he’s joking, that he’s about to laugh in your face. It’s almost instinctive to do that now – you don’t trust him; you don’t believe him. Despite the fact that there seems to be sincerity written on his features, you can see it brimming in his eyes that glow in the dim light of the bathroom, in his lips which practically purse with anticipation.

You don’t know what to say.

“Mark me too, omega. Like how I marked you. I don’t give a fuck about anyone else; I only want you. So claim me, if it’ll make you feel better. I’ll be yours just like how you’re mine.”

You gulp. Steve’s all about grand gestures and sweet words, but could he really mean it? When he’s barely said anything this whole time you’ve poured your frustrations out to him? For a moment, a wild nano-second, the feral omega within you wants to surge forward and bite him hard, claim him how he claimed you that fateful night a month or so ago. Make him hurt how he made you hurt the night he claimed you. Make him yours, and maybe, just maybe, you’d finally be happy?

But then you wilt, like all your feelings have rushed to a standstill and taken a nosedive down to the depths of your own mind. Dark doubts, insecurities, mistrust, hopelessness – all of that seems to overtake any innate desire you have to mate him right back. Clearly, the bond you both shared meant nothing to him when he’d cheated on you. What difference could your measly bite-mark on his neck really make?

“Make me yours.” He repeats.

“You’ll never be mine.” You shrink back within yourself, like a candle that’s been snuffed out, or a balloon that’s slowly deflating.

Steve blinks as if he can’t quite believe it, and you feel a peculiar wavering in your bond. “I don’t understand,” He says slowly, “I’m giving you permission to mark me, omega. Not anyone else, just you. So do it. Mark me.”

You bow your head, shaking it slowly, “I’m tired, Steve.”

There’s a certain pull that you feel in your bond with him, a heaviness in the connection you share. You’ve never felt it before. Hurt. It’s almost as if he’s hurt. Could Steve possibly be hurt? But the feeling is fleeting, glimmering slightly before disappearing altogether, making you think you imagined it to begin with.

No more words are shared between you as he helps you to your feet, wrapping his large black towel around you before guiding you back to the bedroom. Like you’re a kicked and injured puppy who needs him. You wonder if you’ll ever not need him.

You feel nothing as he pulls his old football jersey over your head. It’s your favourite one, the one with all the holes in it that smells so much like him. His lucky jersey, he’d told you once. But even the omega inside of you has quietened down, and you still feel so numb. Numb and cold. And hopeless. Even the bed doesn’t bring you any comfort as Steve tucks you in.

He sits by your side, stroking your hair. You struggle to keep your eyes open, the dark depths of sleep tugging you in, and you wonder what fresh nightmares await inside your head. Steve leaving you? Leaving you and your unborn child? You’re already half asleep when you think you hear him speak again, in an oddly gentle tone:

“When I kissed her, I closed my eyes and pretended it was you.” A pause, as if he’s mulling whether to say his next words, “You’re all I think about – and I think about you so goddamned much, it feels like I’m going insane. I can’t even look at another girl, all I see is you.”

It’s through the throes of sleep that you answer:

“Don’t believe you, Steve. Don’t trust you. How can we raise a chil–”

But even in your half-asleep state, your voice knows to trail off. You know what you were about to say: How can we raise a child together when I don’t even trust you? But you can’t tell him about the baby, not when everything is so uncertain.

Sleep pulls you into unconsciousness. Dark and quiet, you dream of nothing.

***

The next few days feel like you’re living in some sort of limbo, with things between you and Steve quieter than a pin dropping. There seems to be change in the foreboding alpha who used to make your heart stop every time he looked at you. Now, he teeters between a range of different emotions. Like masks – quickly exchanging one for the other. Wary – as if you’re made out of glass. Apologetic – except he’s yet to actually say sorry. Cautious – as if he thinks you might do something to hurt yourself. Angry – not directly at you but it scares you anyways.

And sometimes you don’t recognise him – but did you ever truly know him to begin with? And you also don’t recognise yourself. You feel like a snuffed-out candle and you don’t know what to do with yourself. Steve’s room suddenly feel suffocating, but where else are you supposed to go?

But it’s like there’s an invisible barrier stopping you from leaving his room. The fear of running into Bucky is the biggest barrier, and so everything else comes to a standstill. Cleaning, laundry, all the little things you used to do around the house for Steve and yourself. Things you didn’t even realise had become routine until now. You barely go into the kitchen anymore, with Steve now bringing food up to his bedroom for the two of you.

Soon, your end-of-year exams finish, and looking out onto campus through your window, you can see other students packing up and leaving. Laughing and hugging their parents who show up in pick-up trucks and moving vans. Friends saying tearful goodbyes because everyone’s going home for the summer. Is that what you should do? Go home? When your mother hasn’t given you a call in more than a few months now?

One day, you’re staring listlessly out the window when you hear a knock on the door. Turning your head ever-so-slightly, your eyes meet with Sam’s.

“Steve isn’t here.”

“I know. I wanted to speak to you.” Sam steps into the room, leaving the door slightly ajar behind him. Your breath hitches in your throat, and the alpha scoffs when you get up and take a step backwards, “Relax. I’m not going to hurt you.”

It’s less a fear of Sam and more a fear of something bad inevitably happening that makes you swallow harshly. Sam isn’t as bad as Bucky but he was still awful to you, still said the meanest things to you and had done nothing when Bucky locked you out of the house. So, your body is on high-alert as you gaze warily at him now.

“Go away.” You don’t want to beg him, but you don’t have the willpower to even try to be assertive anymore. It’s not like any of the alphas in this house ever listen to you, anyways. “Just go away, okay? I have nothing to say to you.”

Sam scowls at the floor, kicking the carpet before inhaling deeply and looking up to meet your eyes. Why is he here? To ridicule you? Berate you? Laugh at you? Do you even care anymore?

“I’m sorry, okay?” He blurts out, the words tumbling out of his mouth so quickly that you’re stunned for a second, unsure if you’ve heard him correctly. Sam himself looks stunned, and you get the feeling that he’s never apologised to anyone before, let alone an omega. And nobody’s ever apologised to you before, not any of the alphas who’ve bulled you. Not Steve. And certainly not Bucky.

Sam takes a step closer to you, and this time you don’t flinch away.

“Look, I won’t pretend I’m a saint, okay? I know I’ve never been nice to you… But things went too far the other day and I’m man enough to admit that.” He’s still speaking fast, as if he wants to get it all out before he changes his mind.

Should you trust him?

“And I don’t know what the fuck came over Bucky that night,” Sam continues, shoving his hands in his pockets, “Usually he’s the nicest out of the three of us. And I was high as fuck that night, I thought he’d let you in eventually, so I just went upstairs. But whatever, I’m not making any excuses for him or myself.”

You exhale slowly, willing yourself to look up at his face, search for even an ounce of laughter, or a twitch of a smile – any hint that this is all a sick joke.

“So, consider this an apology. And you don’t have to say anything, and you don’t have to forgive me. But just know that you won’t be getting that sort of treatment from me anymore.”

Silence. Except your mind’s working in overdrive: should you trust him? Should you believe him? Did you even want to forgive him? Does this apology make up for all the verbal abuse, berating and bullying that you’ve suffered, with him being one of the main perpetrators? Did his apology even matter anymore, when the damage was already done?

You never get a chance to respond because Steve walks in at that very moment. The blond alpha freezes at the doorway, a bouquet of yellow roses clenched in his hand and a frown quickly forming on his face. His blue eyes narrow as he looks from you to Sam, who’s standing only about a foot away from you.

“Get away from her before I fucking kill you.”

There’s a flurry of movement, the yellow roses drop to the floor and it takes Steve only two strides to cross the room and stand between you and the other alpha.

Sam raises an eyebrow, “Chill out. I only came in here to–”

“Get out.” Steve is curt and seething at the same time, and for a moment it looks like Sam’s about to square up. He opens his mouth to speak before clamping it shut and shaking his head.

“I’m so fucking done with this bullshit.” Sam says under his breath before exiting the room, leaving you alone with the sound of Steve’s rapid breathing as your alpha whips around to stare you down. Your heart lurches when he grabs you by the shoulders, shaking you while those blue eyes never leave your face.

“You were gonna fuck him, weren’t you?”

Your jaw drops at how ludicrous his accusation is, how shockingly unbelievable.

“Wh-What? No, I wasn’t–”

“Don’t lie to me.” With clenched teeth and eyes that look half crazed, you see his pupils darting around as if trying to find the truth in your face. Jaw clenching and unclenching, he squeezes your shoulders and shakes you again, “Don’t think I don’t know what game you’re playing. You think you can cheat on me just because I cheated on you?”

“No–”

“You think you could ever get away with that?” Blonde hair falling over his forehead, eyes bloodshot with anger, he looks like he’s teetering at the edge of his own sanity. “You think you could just hook up with someone else as some sick form of revenge on me, do you?”

“Steve, no–”

“Where’s your phone?” Steve looks incensed, eyes scanning the room like a man possessed. Grabbing it from on top of the dresser, he goes through it quickly. Like he’s done a thousand times before, except this time it’s like he knows he’ll find something. You thank your lucky stars that you deleted the phone call with Peter from your call history – not that that counted as cheating in the slightest.

His frown grows deeper as he opens every app, scrolls through every chat, scours through your call logs. But you feel an eery since of calm – which is the opposite of Steve who looks like he’s about to explode with whatever mad anger that’s suddenly consumed him.

“Don’t you fucking think you can go behind my fucking back, you got that? Especially not with my friends, or that fucking scum beta ex of yours.” He throws your phone down on the bed, clearly having found zero evidence to back his absurd claims, but it doesn’t stop him from glowering at you.

“Listen to me very carefully, omega.” Steve scrunches your face between his thumb and fingers, his expression so intense it chills your blood. “You’re mine. I’m your alpha and I own you. That’s never going to change. If you ever cheat on me, I’ll kill him. And you too.”

He slams his lips against yours in a kiss so bruising, you feel your lips burn. And this kiss is different, you can almost taste the desperation as he moves his tongue against yours. As he holds you close to him so tightly that it hurts, and you can’t breathe, and you feel like he’s never going to let you go.

You fight the urge to kiss him back – because even now, that urge is still there. It’ll always be there. Palms press desperately against his hard chest in a bid to push him away.

“I wouldn’t do that to you!” You cry out as you pull away, “I would never deliberately hurt someone I care about, Steve. I’m not you!”

He lets go of you as suddenly as he’d grabbed you, breathing hard and still seething. And it’s almost like you’re really seeing him now. Steve, who was always so poised, so smooth as he clinically seamed his words together in the past. But now? The distant, crazed look in his eyes, the dishevelled features, hair unkempt, jaw tense, lips bitten and pursed. He’s always been beautiful but there’s an unpredictable edge to him now that maybe wasn’t there before.

Was the alpha losing control?

He backs away, fists clenched at his sides and that intense and crazed expression still on his face. You both stare at each other, it feels like your heart’s about to thud out of your chest. And then abruptly, he turns and strides out of the room, stepping over the bouquet of yellow roses that lay trampled and dejected on the ground.

***

The days all start looking the same. You’re so stationary in Steve’s room yet you feel like you’re running. Constantly running and hiding from the responsibility of the child growing inside of you. Tell him, tell alpha! He deserves to know! The omega inside of you shrieks and croons, but something’s stopping you from doing it. There’s a mountain of problems surrounding you and Steve – where would a baby fit in all of that?

The silence between the two of you grows louder as each day passes. Barely any words spoken, and a certain awkwardness that was never there before – certainly never from Steve himself. Yet despite all that, every night he holds you while you sleep. And every morning, you wake up in his warm embrace. And it’s only in those moments, in the quiet of the night with the weight of his arms around you, that you can pretend everything’s okay.

And then one day, Steve walks into the room and sits next to you on the bed. You think nothing of it, barely glancing at him before going back to examining the pattern of the duvet cover.

“Omega.” Steve says, but as usual he seems so far away. And it’s almost like you don’t have the energy to acknowledge him, even when he grabs your hand and squeezes it. It’s only when he says your name – your real name – that you look up. He barely ever calls you that.

“Have you eaten today?” He asks, a frown adorning his features when you shake your head listlessly. You’d attempted to go down to the kitchen earlier, but upon hearing Bucky’s voice you’d turned and come straight back into the bedroom, heart pitter-pattering and a sinking feeling in your chest.

He takes out a wrapped deli sandwich and a bottle of water from his gym bag. His blue eyes watch you like a hawk as you slowly take a sip of water and tear off a bit of the sandwich, chewing softly. It tastes like nothing, but you figure it’s better to just keep quiet and eat it – since you’re meant to be eating for two now anyways. And just that thought sends shivers down your spine – how long can you pretend not to acknowledge the existence of the baby growing inside of you? How long before you have to tell him?

Steve clears his throat, “Look, I know things have been…” His voice trails off as he watches you tear off tiny pieces of your sandwich, staring into your lap because you just can’t seem to look at him. He shifts around, and you feel a spark of unease in the bond you share with him.

“I got you something.” He says finally, reaching into his gym bag a second time, he takes something out and throws it into your lap.

The fur looks worn out and one ear is missing, and you can see the haphazard stitches on the teddy bear’s neck that hold it together. Not the neatest thread work, but it looks strong enough despite the head which is slightly lopsided. Coal black eyes shining bright as ever, and the same blue bow tie except now it has a few more loose threads than before.

“Steve Junior…” You breathe, running your fingers over the stuffie, and his fur feels just as soft as before. He looks so old, so worn out, pieced together and stitched so precariously but it’s him. As ridiculous as it sounds – he’s just a stuffed animal after all – but it’s him and now suddenly your mouth feels dry. You bring the stuffie up to your nose and you’re bathing in Steve’s alpha scent, so potent and rich and warm.

“It took me a while to find someone who’d fix him up.” Steve breaks the silence, scratching the back of his neck. You sneak a peek up at his face to find him scanning yours, as if gauging your reaction. “A lot of his cotton stuffing was dirty so I had to replace it. But the rest of him is all him, just as he was before. I thought of just buying you a new one, but I figured you’d appreciate this more.”

You nod slowly, stroking the top of Steve Junior’s head as if you can’t get enough of it. “You gathered up all the pieces from the kitchen floor?”

“Yes.”

It’s a monosyllabic answer, but his eyes say a lot more. At least, you think they do and you wish he’d verbalise it. Instead, with a hesitancy that was never there before, Steve slowly pulls you into his lap, holding you close against his chest, where you can feel the dull thud of his heartbeat. And you let yourself be held, feeling his alpha warmth that you haven’t felt in a while now.

Warm hands cup your face and make you look up at him. And it’s his tenderness that you can’t wrap your head around. Is this the same Steve who so vehemently accused you of cheating on him just days ago? Why was it always a different emotion with Steve? Always a different mask, as if he could switch them out so easily. What were you supposed to believe?

He kisses you like someone who’s parched, and again you feel that desperation on his lips. Before, his kisses were always so confident, self-assured, taking what he needed from you and leaving you breathless and reeling in the process. Now, he’s gentle. Handling you as if you’re made of glass. And it feels so foreign to you.

You let yourself kiss him back. Steve sighs and increases his pace, tongue swiping over your bottom lip, making you gasp before he gains entrance. His hands fall down to your hips at the same moment your arms wind around his neck. It’s frenzied movement and a blur of limbs, like two people who’ve suddenly realised they can’t get enough of each other after days of no contact.

“Fuck,” Steve mutters under his breath, squeezing your hips before his hand slips down between your legs, cupping your mound in his warm grip. You pant, jerking forward, squashing Steve Junior between both your bodies. You pull away long enough to prop your stuffie up on your pillow, making sure he’s sitting upright before Steve drags you back to him.

“You need me, don’t you?” He whispers fervently against your lips, biting and nipping while the heel of his palm grinds against your clothed pussy. “Tell me you need me.”

You do need him; you’ll always need him. It’s what terrifies you the most. But you try not to think, try to lose yourself in the feeling of his lips smattering kisses all over your jaw and moving down to your neck. He slips his hand into your panties, eliciting another gasp from you, and a jerk from your hips that can’t help but want him.

You start moving against his hand, riding it while he slips a finger inside you. Your slippery pussy swallowing his digit as if you’re starved, walls so needy that they constrict around him and you moan, grabbing at his shoulders, wanting to feel more of him. Nothing’s solved, nothing’s okay – but he’s made you so addicted to his touch that, for a second, it doesn’t even seem to matter.

His hands have snaked up your shirt, palm pressing against your belly like how he always used to do before. Except now it’s different, now it makes your eyes widen and a cold panic rise in the pit of your stomach. Again, the picture plays behind your eyes: you, alone with your baby. Dark and dreary, and Steve’s nowhere to be found. He’s gone. He’s left you. Did he kiss that other omega like this?

“STOP!”

You push hard against his chest, the force of the blow surprising both of you. You scramble off him, hands shaking and you can still feel his burning kiss on your lips, and his touch on your body too. You back away slowly, shaking your head and breathing hard.

“I can’t, I–” Your eyes dart to Steve’s face, and he’s looking up at you with what looks to be concern, as if he’s just kicked an already injured puppy. Repeatedly, you shake your head, “I’m sorry, I just… I just can’t!”

Running to the bathroom, you slam the door shut and that’s when the tears spurt out and you’re sobbing and sobbing. It seems like you’re always crying – as if the self-pity will just never end – but it’s like you can’t stop. Why couldn’t you just become okay again?

Everything is okay! The omega inside you screeches. He fixed Steve Junior! It shows he cares! Everything’s okay now!

If everything was okay, then why did nothing feel fine at all?

Staring at your reflection in the mirror, you see an omega who is weak and broken. Red eyes, bitten nails, puffy face. Hair unkempt, hands shaking pathetically, clothes crumpled. Was this the omega who was meant to keep Steve happy? Was this the omega who was going to have his baby? You cradle your stomach as rivulets of tears flow down your face.

“What are we gonna do?” You whisper softly, your sobs making your words almost indecipherable. “I don’t know what to do, I don’t know what to do, I don’t know what to do.”

You don’t hear the thud of the footsteps, only the crash of the bathroom door as it’s thrown open, Steve striding towards you and grabbing your shoulders before you have a chance to even cower.

“What’s wrong with you?” He roars, but there’s desperation in his anger as he shakes you by the shoulders.

“I don’t know!”

“What’s it going to take to get you to go back to how you were before?”

“I DON’T KNOW!”

You flinch when he draws his hand back, wondering if this is it. If he’s finally run out of whatever patience he had up until this point and now you’re in for it. You brace yourself for the inevitable blow, taking a deep breath and willing yourself to disassociate from the pain. But you only see Steve looking at you incredulously, his hand slowly curling into a fist by his side.

“I wouldn’t hit you.”

He looks almost appalled, staring down at his own fist for a handful of tense seconds, during which you can hear the sounds of your own rapid breathing and every single beat of your heart too.

“It wouldn’t matter if you did.” You say it softly, more to yourself than to him.

As if exhausted of all his options, Steve’s grip on you loosens. Blue eyes boring into yours, reflecting the helplessness that you can also detect in your bond.

“I told you to forget about it.” His hands cup your face again, thumbs swiping away your tears. “Why can’t you just forget about that night, why can’t you just let me make you happy?”

More than anything, you wish you had an answer for him.

***  

Despite talking lesser and lesser and slowly becoming strangers by day, the magnetic pull between the two of you increases at night. Where it’s dark and warm and you can pretend it’s all okay, that’s when Steve holds you and you let yourself be held by him every single night.

Which is why you wake up with a start, on the bed completely empty besides you and the newly resurrected Steve Junior.  A glance at your phone tells you it’s past midnight – so, where’s Steve? Blindly, you reach out for him – but he’s not there and, despite everything, this troubles you.

He’s left you, the dark voice at the back of your head cackles. You thought you could get away with being upset with him for this long, and now he’s left you, just like he said he would if you got out of line.

You’re not even fully awake before you’re on your feet, trying to keep your dizziness at bay. It’s another symptom of your pregnancy, another reminder of the secret you’re holding inside of you, another reminder that you need to tell someone. But right now, all you can focus on is where is Steve?

You find him on the small balcony that overlooks the back of the house. Elbows resting on the railing and blonde hair looking silver in the moonlight. He looks back as if he senses you, cigarette between his lips and a cloud of smoke surrounding him before he turns his back to you once more.

Before you can change your mind and go back to bed, you venture forward to stand beside the alpha, heart thudding as it always does whenever you’re near him. After days of his hot and cold behaviour and your own depleting moods, you realise you don’t know how to act around him or what to say. A gust of cold wind blows and you shiver, but it gives you this sudden burst of courage to speak.

“You shouldn’t smoke so much.” You blurt out. It’s the only thing you can think of to say; you’ve seen Steve smoke here and there a few times, at parties or gatherings with his friends. But never at home, in the middle of the night, with two empty beer cans rolling around by his feet.

To your surprise, Steve puts the cigarette out. Dropping it to the floor and stomping on it before turning away from you to exhale the final puff of smoke. You watch as it swirls into the night air, dissipating almost immediately.

“Sharon used to say that a lot.” He remarks, and hearing his ex’s name on his tongue feels like a punch to your gut – he’s never voluntarily mentioned her before. You turn around to leave, but his next words stop you short. “It’s funny, because I never gave a fuck about what she said. Or any of the other girls I was with.” He looks at you squarely, “I cheated on all of them too. And I never thought anything of it.”

It feels like there’s needles in your throat when you swallow, tumbling all the way down to your stomach and tearing you up from the inside out. Why is he telling you this?

“I thought it would be the same with you. You’re just an omega after all, why should I care about what you say or how you feel?” The full moon’s reflecting in his eyes, giving them an alien silver glow that makes him look like a stranger. And maybe he is a stranger, because he’s never opened up like this with you before.

“But I do.” He says it so quietly, it almost gets lost in the night air. Another gust of chilly wind has your teeth chattering, goosebumps covering your bare arms as you stand there and stare at him in only your nightgown. You don’t protest when Steve shrugs off his jacket and drapes it over your shoulders, smoothening the lapels and his fingers linger at your collarbone. For a split second, he leans closer, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply before sighing.

“I’ve hurt girls in the past and I’ve never cared. But you…” He turns back, looking over the balcony railing, and you wait a few beats, your mind silently urging him to finish his thought.

“I thought I could cheat on you and things would be fine after that. That I’d scare you into acting right and we’d just go back to how things were.” The words tumble out of his mouth quickly, as if he’s spitting them out before his ego catches up and swallows them back into his brain.

“Sharon warned me about you.” You blurt out.

His head whips around, faster than the frenzied winds that surround the two of you, “You spoke to her?”

“I–I didn’t believe her. I didn’t want to believe her because I liked you so much.”

“I know you did.” Steve cocks his head to the side, looking at you almost curiously. The stars dance in his eyes, and tufts of his blonde hair blow up with the strong wind, “How could you like me that much, despite everything?”

You don’t know what to say. How could you like him that much? Despite everything he’d done to you? Was it because the forced mating compelled you to feel things for him? No – your feelings were more complex than that. They’ve been there since the beginning, when he would bully you and you wished to God that he would like you. To after he mated you, and how you’d persuaded yourself that he’d changed, that he did like you now. To when he confessed to cheating, and your whole world broke down…

It's less of a realization and more of a fact: you like Steve a lot – more than Peter and more than your mother. Because you could live without Peter and you could even live without your mother. But you don’t think you could ever live without Steve.

When you don’t answer, Steve sucks in his breath and looks away again, “You’re pure, you know? The way you act, how good you are. And it… confuses me.”

You have to grip the railing hard to keep yourself rooted in reality – was Steve genuinely confiding in you?

“I’ve never second-guessed myself before.” He says after a long, long pause. As if he’s got a script pictured in his mind and he keeps mentally rewriting it and scratching things out. “But you… You make me second-guess everything.” It sounds like an accusation, but a resigned one; and you focus on his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. “I shouldn’t have made you think I was going to leave you. Because I won’t. Ever. I can promise you that right now.”

You nod, tentatively taking a step towards him and he mirrors your actions, his hand reaching up to stroke your cheek. It’s instinctive when you lean into his touch, feel the rough pads of his fingers rub against the soft skin of your face. He traces your cheekbones, and he’s so gentle. You wish you could freeze this moment, because Steve’s emotions are like the changing tide. Would he be this tender tomorrow or the day after – or even two minutes from now?

“You should go back to bed.” He says abruptly, as if on cue.

Why is your heart sinking? Why do you want to stay? But you listen to him anyway, a large part of you will always listen to him, always want to be good for him. And it’s when you’re a good few steps away that you hear him clear his throat.

“Omega?”

“Yes, Steve?”

“I’m sorry. For all of it.”

A coolness spreads across your chest, like a pleasant, soothing balm that calms you from the inside out. Your heart steadies, and you feel like you can breathe again.

***

“He’s not in his room, Steve.”

“I don’t fucking care.”

“He’s our running back, we need him. Especially today.”

“Jensen can play his position. Now let’s just fucking go.”

Behind the closed door of your bedroom, you can hear Steve and Sam’s muffled voices out in the hallway. You don’t mean to eavesdrop, but the two of them seem to be growing collectively louder and louder.

The tension seems to be running high between the two of them – you’ve hardly seen them speak since the day Sam apologised to you and Steve exploded on him. But the two alphas seem even more stressed out today, with the final football match of the season against a rival college in less than a few hours.

“Jensen can’t play as good as Bucky.” Sam quips.

“Bucky’s not here.” Steve says through clenched teeth, “He’s probably out somewhere, either passed out or hungover. And we don’t have time to start a manhunt for him so let’s just go.”

The bedroom door bursts open and you freeze as Steve storms in past you. The two of you haven’t spoken since last night when he’d apologised on the balcony. Granted, he’d been busy all day prepping for the game tonight – last minute workouts and strategizing with his team. And you had about three loads of laundry to get through since you’d been neglecting things like that for the past few weeks now.

And yet the lack of contact between the two of you made you wonder whether he was already regretting his apology. Or worse – what if he was going to pretend that he never apologised at all?

If anything, Steve seems more riled up and on edge now than ever, rummaging through the already messy bedroom (you had neglected cleaning too, and it’s not like Steve himself ever cleaned). “Where the fuck is it??” He murmurs under his breath, tossing clothes out of the closet and onto the floor.

“Wh-What are you looking for?” You ask him quietly, wondering whether he can detect the awkwardness in your tone. Sure, he’d apologised – but where do the two of you stand now? In some awkward limbo between “okay” and “not okay”?

Steve sighs, stepping away from the closet and grabbing his gym bag. Slinging it over his shoulder, he makes his way over to you.

“Nothing.” He murmurs, reaching out to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. You gulp, wanting to say something, anything. Maybe wish him luck for the game? But you’re too shy, lips feeling like they’re glued together and heart beating harder than ever. Steve opens his mouth to say something else, and then–

“STEVE, LET’S GO!” Sam bellows from downstairs.

Steve leaves without another word.

You spend the day doing all the chores you’d neglected for the past few weeks. It’s crazy to you how much of a difference two words can bring about. You’d spent the past few weeks lying listlessly in bed, feeling numbingly indifferent half the time and cripplingly stressed out for the other half. And you’re still stressed – how can you not be? Pregnant within your first year of college and you still haven’t told a soul.

But it’s somewhat easier now to make a mental list of everything – washing and drying three hampers of clothes (you wonder if you can put Steve Junior in the washing machine but after seeing the precarious stitches on his neck, you conclude that handwashing him would be safer). You also venture downstairs to clean the kitchen (and it’ll never cease to shock you, what a mess three alphas can make).

It's only when you’re deep into cleaning the bedroom that the vacuum cleaner catches on something poking out from under Steve’s side of the bed. A rectangular book with a black velvet cover – it seems unassuming enough yet it piques your curiosity anyways. Maybe because it’s got Steve’s scent all over it.

You expect blank pages – Steve’s not the type to make notes – but nothing could truly prepare you for what you actually see when you open the book.

It’s you.

Over and over again. Drawn on one page, then again on the next. You flip five pages down, and there you are again. Different renditions of you on almost every single page and the book is more than half filled up. You in pencil sketches, you in watercolour; there’s one of you with a pen in hand, clearly taking notes. Another of you sitting under a tree, drinking from a juice-box, one of you on your phone, and plenty more of you studying – always wearing your oversized hoodie.

The most recent one is of you sleeping, wearing his jersey with the holes in it and Steve Junior clutched tightly in your arms. It’s with shaky breath that you trace a trembling finger over the masterful strokes, admiring the accuracy of the teddy bear’s blue bow tie – all the way down to the loose threads! And the attention to detail is astounding – your hair, your skin, the slight furrow between your brows…

It's a lot to take in. Had Steve drawn these? He must have! You didn’t even know Steve could draw like this because never once had he done it in front of you. And how long had he had this book for? There were so many drawings – was it from before you and him got together? Carefully, you close the sketchbook and place it neatly back under the bed.

Almost as if you’re in a trance, you walk around to your own side of the bed to where your little makeshift nest is. What’s left of it anyways, since you haven’t really kept up with the upkeep and right now all it consists of is your teddy bear and Steve’s jersey with the holes in it.

His lucky jersey. Was that what he’d been looking for earlier?

Steve Junior looks at you with his coal black eyes as if conveying to you exactly what you’re thinking. Thoughts racing, you stroke his fur softly, the action reminding you of the rare occasions when Steve would fall asleep before you with his face buried in the crook of your neck. When you’d card your fingers through his hair because you were too shy to do it when he was awake.

You feel the sudden urge to do it now as you hold onto his lucky jersey. The one he was looking for. The one he probably needs right now. Right?

Grabbing your phone to check the time, you find that it’s already early evening – the game would be almost over by now. Could you possibly make it in time? Would this even be worth it?

You seem to have made up your mind before you can even begin to answer any of those questions.

***

“Let her in, that’s the quarterback’s girlfriend.”

Getting into the college stadium is easier than you thought it would be. In fact, it’s surprisingly easy, as if the universe is paving a path for you straight to Steve. You thought your significance at university was that of an ant surrounded by giants – but the guys hanging by the ticket booth recognise you immediately, one of them even offering to personally take you inside.

“You should go to the box by the front, that’s where all the girlfriends hang out.”

Never in your life have you been to a college football game before – or a football game of any variety for that matter. Feeling completely out of your depth, you put all your faith into this guy you’ve just met as he guides you through the waves and waves of people. You try your hardest to swallow down your anxiety – you hate large crowds – your nails digging into your palms while your heart races, already wondering whether coming here was a mistake.

“I’m Colin, by the way.” The guy says before pausing to look up at the gigantic scoreboard, “Uh-oh. We’re still down by a few points. That’s why I was outside, couldn’t handle the pressure – even as just a spectator.”

Down by a few points? You clutch Steve’s lucky jersey harder between your fingers, wondering what exactly you thought you’d accomplish by coming here. The game was in full swing – it’s not like you could toss the jersey into the field and hope Steve would notice and pick it up.

“I just think today’s a bad day for the team,” Colin explains, “Steve seems distracted – well, that’s what my friend Jake told me. Jake’s on the team too, but he’s usually on reserve. Except he’s playing today because Bucky didn’t show up, and if you ask me–”

Colin’s voice drowns out as your nerves go into overdrive. Slowly, after ages of weaving through a very intense and rowdy crowd, the two of you make it to a cluster of seats in the front row. A bunch of cheerleaders are standing there in a group, biting their nails with frowns and looks of concern etched on their faces – the girlfriends.

You gulp, glancing down at your own attire and knowing you’ll stick out like a sour thumb. All your new clothes that Steve had bought you were currently in the washing machine – leaving you with the one piece of clothing that you hadn’t worn in a long time. Your oversized hoodie.

Not that it matters right now.

“Well, there you go. Front row seats to all the action – although it’s looking pretty bleak right now, so I’d look away if I was you.” Colin grimaces, glancing at the scoreboard once more. “We’re down by five points and there isn’t much time left on the clock.”

You manage a tight smile, feeling like a tiny fish inside the Pacific Ocean. “Thank you for helping me, Colin.” You say softly.

“No worries.” Colin’s already walking away – clearly, he has no faith left in this game, “Oh, and please don’t tell Steve I spoke to you, okay? He’s probably going to be in a bad mood when – if – we lose this game, and he usually takes his anger out on Jake or me, and this’ll just make it worse, and–”

And then he’s gone, and you make your way past the cluster of cheerleaders, whispering out a soft “excuse me” every time you make eye contact with one of them. They all look you up and down, but thankfully don’t say anything as you walk over to the front, where you now have a clear view of the field.

Steve’s got his team in a huddle, yelling out instructions that you can’t hear. He’s in his blue jersey with his helmet under his arm, blonde hair fluffy and messy and his face pale yet flushed at the same time. And he does look stressed and distracted just how Colin had said. Would he be angry if his team lost? Would he be mad at you for coming? With Steve, one never really knew what to expect, and you suddenly feel extremely foolish, standing here in your ill-fitted hoodie with a jersey full of holes in your hands.

All the players take their positions for the final few minutes of the game. From your limited understanding of football, you can tell that the stakes are very high. The girl next to you can’t stop biting her nails and clutching onto her friend’s arm.

Your eyes are trained on Steve, focused only on him despite the fact that there’s ten other players wearing the same blue jersey and helmet as him. That’s when you feel the mark on your neck suddenly prickle, and Steve’s heard jerks up at that exact moment as if on cue, turning back to look directly at you.

His face is obscured by his helmet, but it makes your breath catch in your throat all the same. Like it did every time he’d strut into the lecture hall, every time you’d see him in the hallways, and those times when he’d show up to your dorm room. He’s yards away from you, but you shoot him a small smile – it’s the first time you’ve smiled at him in a long time now and you wonder if he can even see it.

The whistle blows and there’s a flurry of movement. For a handful of seconds which feel like ages, you don’t even know where the ball is. Everything’s moving so fast, and a glance up at the gigantic timer shows you there’s barely any time left. But the seconds feel like hours, the anticipation growing high not only within you but in the crowd around you. You lean forward over the rails, eyes scanning the field and you see a blur of blue with a handful of players chasing behind it.

You don’t think you’ve ever seen Steve run so fast, yard after yard, as if he’s racing against the clock – which he is. And then his teammate – all the way from the other end – heaves the ball downfield. You see it soaring in the air, so quick that it’s easy to miss. And there’s mere seconds left on the clock, and there’s about four defenders surrounding Steve but he’s gotten past the goal line, and he jumps up, and –

There’s a split second of silence before the stadium erupts in cheers. You realise you’d been holding your breath, and you blink several times before you see the ball in Steve’s hands, hoisted up high. And he’s cleared the goal line, and his teammates are charging at him, whooping in the air.

“I can’t believe it!” The cheerleader next to you screeches in glee, grabbing her friend as they both jump up and down, “A touchdown! We won!”

And sure enough, the huge screen at the front flashes “touchdown!” in huge block letters, and everyone seems to be beside themselves. You exhale in relief, the cheerleaders’ infectious excitement rubbing off on you as you can’t help but smile. Steve is swarmed by his team, and they lift him up. And now you can see him more clearly, see when his eyes zero in on you.

On the shoulders of his teammates, but he’s looking directly at you. You want to give him a little wave but you feel too shy, and you wonder whether you should leave now since he’d obviously want to celebrate with his team. But, as if he somehow senses your intentions, it takes Steve about a millisecond to get back down on the ground, and then he breaks into a run – straight towards you!

You grip onto the railing in anticipation, and Steve crosses the distance in almost record time. There are people in the crowd who’ve invaded the pitch, congratulating his teammates and staring after him as he makes a beeline towards you. Wide-eyed, you stare as he gets closer and closer, his cheeks flushed pink and chest puffed out as he comes to a stop in front of you.

“You’re here.” He says, slightly out of breath.

“Y-Yeah, you’re uh–” You’re suddenly at a loss for words, but you hold up his lucky jersey as if that’s a sufficient enough explanation. Clearing your throat, you add: “Congratulations, Steve. You played really well.”

He stares at you for a moment, and then before you know what’s happening, his hands wrap around your hips, lifting you up over the barrier and into his arms. You squeak, arms instinctively winding around his neck and your legs wrap around his waist.

He kisses you, and there’s an explosion of summer sunshine behind your eyes and all around you. The scent of firewood and an intense summer day interweaves through all your senses – all you can taste, smell, breathe is him. And it’s you who pulls him closer, returning his kiss with double the enthusiasm, your lips working against his as if you’re willingly ready to be consumed in him.

Steve draws back, only to kiss you again. One peck, another peck, and then one of his hands slips up and cups your cheek, pulling your face even closer as his tongue probes against yours and he sucks sweetly on your bottom lip, leaving you breathless yet wanting even more when he suddenly pulls away.

“I love you.”

The words seem to burst out of him – and it seems like both of you stop breathing as soon as he says it. As if you’re both encased in this bubble and the people around you don’t matter and those three words are bouncing around the confines of this bubble, echoing and growing louder, embracing you like a hug.

And your whole world stops. There are hundreds of people around you but they all seem to freeze in place, and you can hear your heart thumping to the same beat as his. And his eyes are clear blue and earnest, and you can see your reflection in them. Shocked, surprised, caught off guard yet every cell in your body rapidly filling up with hope.

“Don’t say that…” You breathe, “D-Don’t say things you don’t mean.” Or else I’ll believe you.

“I mean it.” Steve presses his forehead against yours, gripping you so tightly that you feel like you can’t breathe – but in a good way. “I mean it, omega. I’m in love with you.”

He savours each word as he says it, and you feel this hot and cold feeling – rushes of it – throughout your body. Sparks in the pit of your tummy like tiny butterflies fluttering excitably, or firecrackers ready to erupt in a shower of what feels like pure happiness. You feel light, like you could float forever as his words keep repeating inside your head like a song.

Up until this moment, you’ve second-guessed almost every single word he’s said to you. But why aren’t you second-guessing this? Why is your whole body trusting and believing him, erupting in elation as he holds you close? He loves you. Steve loves you! Love! You don’t think anyone’s ever told you they’ve loved you before. Or made you feel this strange feeling; this heady mixture of wanting to laugh and wanting to cry, of feeling so overwhelmed and yet so at home, and, and and–

“Steve, I’m pregnant.”

The words leave your mouth before you can stop them. And maybe you don’t want to stop them anymore, because the relief you feel is almost instantaneous.

And Steve stares at you for the longest time, and you focus on the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes rapidly, pink lips parted slightly as if he can’t believe what he’s hearing. For one horrific second, you think he’s going to drop you and leave, and take his “I love you” back and tell you it’s over. But he holds you even tighter, and you realise you’re moving as he walks the two of you to a door off to the side, leading to the changing rooms.

Once inside, he sets you down gently on your feet and pins you against the wall, trapping you against his considerably larger frame, looking down at you with an almost foreign look on his face, as if he can’t quite grasp what you’re saying.

“You’re pregnant?” He repeats.

“Yes, I am.”

“Pregnant.” Steve says it again, more to himself than to you, cupping your face, his thumbs stroking your cheekbones lightly. “My omega. Pregnant.”

“Yes.” The more you confirm it and the more he says it, the realer it seems. But it’s crazy how much less scary the prospect of pregnancy sounds when the word is coming out of his mouth. “I took three tests; they all came out positive. My period never came–”

His lips press against yours in a heady kiss that leaves you reeling, and he’s holding you so tightly that you feel light-headed. “My girl carrying my baby, just like I said you would.” Steve whispers against your lips. A smile breaks out across his face, “Baby, you’ve made me so proud.”

Proud. He’s proud. Proud of you.  

He gets down on his knees in front of you, your breath catching in your throat because he’s so big. Even on his knees, his face is level with your chest. His hands, so big and warm, trail softly down your figure – the gentlest he’s ever been. Fingers splayed out and stroking carefully over your stomach, he lifts your hoodie up and presses his face against your soft, exposed skin.

“You’re so tiny,” he breathes, almost in wonder. “So little… How’re you gonna carry my baby inside you when you’re so little?”

Your chest rises as you inhale deeply, a soft whisper of “I don’t know…” leaving your mouth.

Butterfly-light kisses trail up and down your stomach, his lips dragging against your skin, tongue peeking out to lick, nip and suck at your belly – as if he wants to devour you. You get the strong urge to card your fingers through his hair, but you’re so shy that you hesitate, jerking forward instead when the tip of his tongue probes inside your belly button.

Steve looks up, the wonder in his eyes now replaced with a familiar, devilish sparkle.

“I always knew I’d knock you up before the year was over.” He boasts cockily, one hand still firmly stroking your stomach like he’s grown addicted to the feeling. “Didn’t I say it from day one? That I was gonna fuck my baby into you? And now look at you, knocked up like the good, dutiful omega I knew you’d be under my wing.”

He sounds how he did before, the same cocky Steve. But there’s an underlying lightness to his words, this infectious excitement that’s so different from your own cold fear of being pregnant.

“You don’t think it’s too soon, Steve? I mean, I don’t think I’m ready–”

“You’re ready.” He interrupts you, words spoken between kisses against your stomach – it seems like he can’t refrain from kissing you there – “It’s an omega’s duty to have her alpha’s babies, and didn’t I say I’ve got a plan? You, me, and my baby – it’s all coming together now.”

“B-But what about college? You’re graduating now but I’ve still got two more years left, and–”

“You don’t have to worry about any of that anymore.” Steve cuts you off again, standing up to his full height so you have to crane your neck to look up at him. With his shoulder pads on, he looks even bigger than usual, “Didn’t I say I’d take care of you?”

Your concerns are swallowed up by his kiss, and his hand slips down to hook under your thighs. He picks you up easily, and he’s so strong; he only needs one arm to carry you, his other hand cupping your face and pulling you in for another kiss – as if he can’t seem to get enough.

“Poor little baby omega,” He coos, laying you down on a nearby bench and climbing on top of you. You can hear the roar of the crowd close by, everyone celebrating this monumental win for the football team. You know for a fact there are people milling about near you. Steve is undeterred, however, kissing down your neck as he pushes your hoodie up to expose your chest.

“You must’ve been so stressed, huh baby?” More kisses as he unclasps your bra and pulls it off hastily, throwing it somewhere behind him as his eyes zero in on your bare breasts.

“Y-Yeah, I was.” You can’t help but sniffle, sounding small and pathetic but you can’t help it. Telling Steve about the baby feels like a huge weight has been lifted off your shoulders, the agonising stress inside your head easing bit by bit as Steve’s large hands squeeze and grope your tits roughly.

“Don’t worry, sweet girl. You don’t have to worry about anything anymore. I know your little brain is tired from thinking so much, now you just leave all the thinking to daddy, okay? All you have to focus on is being a mommy.” He buries his face in your breasts, nuzzling and inhaling your soft skin, squeezing and pushing your tits together till they hurt while you whimper beneath him.

“St-Steve, someone might – ah! – someone might see us!”

“Shhh, didn’t I just tell you not to worry about anything?” He takes your hoodie off completely, and now you’re topless and completely at your alpha’s mercy. He grins wolfishly down at you, “Now, did you know that pregnant baby omegas like yourself are meant to feed their alphas too?”

Your eyes pop open, “Wh-What?”

Steve smirks, palming your tits roughly before rubbing one of your stiff nipples between his thumb and forefinger. You’re half enamoured by the thrill of it, and half paranoid that someone’s going to walk in and see all this, but Steve doesn’t seem to care.

“You didn’t know that you’re meant to feed daddy too? God, you really are a baby, aren’t you?” He pinches your nipple before his tongue peaks out and licks around it, making it even more erect. “All pregnant omegas have to let their alphas have a taste of their milk.”

“I haven’t – ah! – I haven’t read about that anywhere!” You try not to moan.

“That’s because you’re just a baby,” Steve coos before encasing your nipple in his mouth and giving suckling on it not so gently. And the action sends thrills straight down to your core, making you gasp breathlessly and clutch onto his broad shoulders. He releases your nipple with a pop, “Now omega, are you gonna let daddy drink your little mommy milk?”

You squirm, “Y-Yes?”

He twists your nipple roughly, “Say it, then.”

“Y-Yes, you can drink it.”

Another pinch. “Say it properly.”

“Yes, you can drink my mommy milk!” You cry out.

Steve smiles, pulling your cheek condescendingly, “Good girl. Not that I would need your permission, since you’re mine after all.” He gives your nipple a feather-light kiss before encasing it between his lips again, teeth grazing against the sensitive bud.

“And address me properly, or I’ll call the whole football team and make them watch while I fuck you.” You can feel him harden at the thought, “I’ll show them exactly how I knocked you up in the first place.”

“Daddy…” you whine, “N-Not in front of anyone, please!”

Steve licks his lips as his eyes drink you in, like a carnal wolf admiring his prey. His gaze focuses on between your legs, his hangs grabbing at your thighs and spreading them apart. Lewdly, he cups your mound and you automatically buck your hips upwards, making him smirk at your neediness. Grinding the heel of his palm against your clothed pussy, you want to hide your face in embarrassment when you see the wet patch forming on your leggings.

“You’re going to be so much hornier now that you’re pregnant,” He breathes, looking at the wet spot between your legs as if he’s entranced. Suddenly, he strikes you; palm slapping against your clothed pussy while his other hand holds your legs apart. You gasp, sparks of pleasure flaring up inside you as he repeatedly slaps your clothed cunt.

“Tell me, baby omega. Who knocked you up?”

“Y-You did!” You cry out desperately, trying to clamber upwards to grab at his shoulders except he easily pins you back down. His head dips down too, straight between your legs till he’s face to face with your pussy. And you wish to God your leggings and panties weren’t in the way, but Steve doesn’t seem to care. His tongue peaks out past his pink lips, licking a stripe up your covered cunt, and you convulse, “Oh fuck!”

“Tell me how you got knocked up, baby.” Steve speaks against your pussy, and you can feel his hot breath through the thin material of your leggings. He lets out a hum before he takes the material between his lips, sucking at the wet spot and making you throb down there, “Tell me how I filled up your little baby cunt and fucked my baby into you.”

You hesitate, and earn a harsh slap to your ass that has you hissing in pain. “Say it!”

“Y-You filled up my baby cunt and knocked me up!” You cry out desperately, rubbing your pussy against his face as he continues to suck your leggings, his nose grazing against your covered folds and making you want him so badly, it hurts. “Daddy – ah! – y-you fucked your baby into me, okay? P-Please!”

It’s insane how quickly he renders you to be delirious, but after weeks of not being intimate with him, it’s like this is exactly what you need. The depravity, the filth, the fear that just about anyone could walk in at any moment. And it’s also the pride you see in his face – alpha is proud of you for getting pregnant, and that just makes you want him even more.

“You’re just a tiny little baby,” Steve sits back up, looking down at you as if you’re some ravishing creature and not just a desperate omega practically humping against him, face contorted in need for her alpha. “How’re you growing my baby inside of you, when you’re a little fucking baby yourself, huh? Daddy’s little baby.”

He peels your leggings off, leaving you in just your panties in the changing rooms where anyone could walk in at any moment. Pressing kisses against your inner thighs, getting closer and closer to your core, and you’re wiggling underneath him, thrusting up into air because you’re so needy for him.

“I’m gonna take such good care of you, baby.” He breathes, sinking down to his knees on the side of the bench and grabbing your calves to pull you to the edge of it. His face between your thighs now, you can feel his hot breath against your panty-covered core. “Gonna keep you so happy. My little wife… I’ll give you everything you deserve.”

Your heart lurches at the word “wife.” He’s never referred to you as that before, but you don’t have the time to mull upon it when Steve’s teeth enclose around your wet panties, pulling them and letting the elastic stretch before he lets go and it snaps back against your pussy, making you whimper softly. He grins, taking the sodden fabric into his mouth again, this time sucking all your slick from the material while your eyes pop at the sight, pussy clenching around air.

“I love you, baby. You’ve made me so happy today. I want to make you happy too.” His voice is dripping with sweetness – and usually you’d be questioning: is he being sincere? Does he mean it? Should I trust him? But just hearing him say it, hearing him say “I love you,” it’s like it makes you stop thinking straight, makes you not want to question him, makes you want to believe him because what do you truly have left if you don’t believe him?

And maybe – just maybe – he does mean it.

“The mother of my child,” Steve coos, blowing cool air on your hot core, and your slick is dripping down to pool underneath you on the bench as he continues to finger the material of your panties, “Aren’t you happy that you’re pregnant, baby? Aren’t you happy that you made daddy so proud?”

You bite your lip, “H-Honestly, I’m scared– ah! – I’m too young, we’re both too young. There’re so many things we have to think about and consider, and– oh! Oh my God!”

Steve chooses that moment to rip your panties in half and dip his head down, pushing back the hood of your clit and encasing the throbbing button between his lips. He sucks down hard, and you automatically raise your hips to grind up against his face, leaving it glistening with streaks of your wetness. His hand lands an open-palmed slap against your bare pussy, the sound so lewd and wet as it echoes across the changing room.

“I asked you if you’re happy for making me proud.”

You gulp, hands reaching down to grab at his blonde tufts – something you’d been itching to do all day. Slowly, you nod your head. “Y-Yeah.” You whisper, “A-Always wanna make you proud.”

“Good girl. That’s what I thought.” He goes back to your clit, spitting down on it. His saliva pools around your button and he uses his thumb to spread it, circling and rubbing it around and around till you can’t take the intensity, and hump up against his hand. “I already told you not to think about anything else, except being a mommy and making me proud.”

Steve lifts your thighs up and props them over his shoulders, and your ankles automatically lock around him, encasing his head between your legs so he’s face to face with your core. And that’s when you feel his tongue, hard and pointed, flick against your clit, once, twice, three times till you’re crying out his name, your thighs already thrashing except his tight grip keeps them pinned to his shoulders.

“Look at your little button, all swollen up and cute.” Steve spits once more, his saliva trailing down your mound to pool around your clit once more. “You missed having your daddy make you feel good, didn’t you?”

“I…I, uh – Ow!” You gasp when he slaps your ass, the sound resonating across the room and you wonder why no one has walked in yet.

“I wasn’t asking you; I was asking her.” Steve licks his lips, looking straight at your glistening folds and using his pointed finger to swipe up and down your wetness. “Look at your little baby pussy, she’s crying because she’s so happy that daddy’s here to take care of her again.” And that’s all it takes for him to bury his face in your wetness once more, enveloping your sensitive folds between his lips and suctioning harshly.

“Mm, fuck, daddy!” You whimper softly, and he reaches up to squeeze your breast possessively.

Licking and sucking his way back up to your clit, his teeth graze against your swollen bundle of nerves, making you throb like crazy as the sparks begin to build up. “So fuckin’ puffy, just for daddy, huh?” He questions, and you gasp out in agreement, your movements getting needier and more desperate as you begin to hump into his face in earnest, your fists tightening around his hair as you practically smear your pussy over his face, feeling his tongue, his teeth, his lips, his nose, even the light stubble he’s starting to grow out – all of it creating delicious friction against you.

Your body is rocked by so many different sensations: he’s practically making out with your pussy as his mouth suctions over it, lapping at your wetness like he’s starved. His tongue, so hard and pointed, fucks into your hole, his nose grazing against your clit before he licks a flat stripe up from your fuckhole up your slit, ending with a hearty suck up on your clit before biting down on the bundle of nerves not so lightly.

“That’s right, baby. My horny fuckin’ little omega, rub your baby cunt on daddy’s face, use me to make yourself cum. Fuck! I said rub yourself on my fucking face! Harder, before I change my mind.” Steve’s teetering between nice and mean, and the heady mix of both makes you scream out and clutch his hair harder, his voice muffled and sending vibrations against your clit. “Hump on daddy’s face, baby, c’mon. Make yourself feel good, show daddy how much you missed me.”

Your orgasm is doubly intense, and for the second time in your life, your juices squirt out, streaming all over Steve’s face and coating him in your slick. And, like a man starved, he wastes no time in swiping his cheek and sucking his finger, his eyes training on your pulsating pussy as you clench and release, over and over again, thighs tightening around his face as you cry out, “Oh! Oh my, d-daddy!”

“Good baby,” He praises you, prying your legs off his shoulders, “Doesn’t it feel so good to just switch off and let your daddy do all the thinking?”

Hands and legs limp like jelly and every thought and worry slowly leaving your mind, you manage to sniffle out a soft yet ashamedly honest, “Y-Yeah.”

You’re completely limp in his arms as he picks you up by the waist, sitting down on the bench and setting you down on his lap, your back against his chest. But not before undoing his fly and pulling his dick out. It looks angry and red and somehow bigger than ever – as if it’s about to explode. You gulp – it’s been so long since he’s been inside you. Would he still fit?

Like a steel rod, his cock pokes out from between his legs, resting pretty between your own thighs that are parted by his hands. Your wetness has spread all the way from your folds to down your legs, and it’s mildly embarrassing just how needy you are for him at this moment. So needy, in fact, that you surprise yourself – your hands grabbing at his dick as if the omega inside you just can’t help it.

“Fuck,” Steve hisses, covering your hand with his own, “Look at your tiny baby hands on my daddy dick.” His tongue is lapping and sucking at his mark on your neck – his favourite spot – but his eyes are locked on the scene in front of him – you palming his dick almost hesitantly, as if you’re scared of it yet want it badly at the same time – which you do.

You swallow harshly, “P-Please.”

“Please what, sweet girl?”

You duck your head, too shy to voice your desire but his hand grips your chin and makes you look up, twisting your head back slightly so he can look into your eyes.

“Tell me what you want, baby.” Steve says softly, beguilingly with blue eyes sparkling, “I already told you I’ll give you whatever you want – you just have to tell me.”

You surge upwards to kiss him, suddenly remembering how he’d rejected your kisses the last time the two of you had had sex. But this time, he captures your lips with his, ravenously making out with you and his tongue dominates yours, licking up every crevice of your mouth like it’s his job to kiss you. Till you can’t breathe and yet you still don’t want to pull away, and it’s him who finally does.

“Or we could just sit here, and I could feel you.” Steve muses, hand gliding his dick back and forth against the soft skin of your thighs before slapping it against your pussy. You gasp and convulse, and he only chuckles as he repeats the action, and you can’t help but close your legs around his dick, as if forcing him to put it inside you.

“Alpha please!” You mewl softly.

“I guess your pregnancy hormones have made you even needier now, huh omega?” He snickers, using his hand to guide yours up and down his dick, making you jack him off. And you can feel every ridge, every vein of his thick dick as it pulses under your hand. And the omega inside you is feral, you want him so badly it’s unreal. All these weeks of no intimacy have you starved in a different way – because being mated to him means always wanting him, always yearning for him, and having no willpower against his charms.

It's with burning cheeks and tears of need welling in your eyes that you utter: “P-Please, alpha! N-Need you inside me, your knot… So bad. So bad!”

“Why? You’re already knocked up.” He’s tracing the tip of his dick against your clit, holding you down as you thrash on his lap. And you don’t understand his willpower – did he not want you as badly as you wanted him? But he continues to slap and stroke his dick against your folds, coating his length in your cream, grabbing you by the hips and grazing you on top of it, physically grinding you against his hard dick yet not putting it inside you.

“Aww, poor baby. Look at your cute little baby cunt, all drippy and leaking all over daddy. You still want my dick, baby? Still want my knot even if you’re already pregnant?”

“Yes! Yes, please!” You want to tell him not to tease you, but you know that he’s your alpha and you can’t really tell him what to do. You know you’re already submissive by nature but in his arms right now, you feel like you’re completely at his mercy, like you’d do anything for him. “N-Need you, daddy. So bad. Just… Just gotta feel you inside… P-Please!”

Steve swears, grabbing the base of his dick and lining it up against your leaking pussy. But he has to lift you up by the hips and slam you back down to get his fat, bulbous tip to finally breach your tiny hole. And oh my God – was it possible that he felt even bigger than ever before? He’s barely halfway inside you and you feel stuffed to the brim already, slippery walls convulsing and crying around his fat cock as it penetrates into you.

“What a tight fuckin’ baby cunt,” Steve grits out, squeezing your tits till it hurts, “God, fuck! Never had a pussy this tight before, baby. It’s like you were made for me.”

He’s so big, it almost feels like it’s the first time – how could you ever have gotten used to such a huge dick? And he’s big everywhere: his muscular legs which hold your entire body weight, his thick arms that hold your thrashing limbs at bay. All six foot six inches of him dwarf you completely. You feel so light, so fragile, so tiny on top of him, his dick slowly going deeper and deeper inside of you, practically ripping you in two.

“S-So big, daddy…” You moan, because it hurts yet it hurts so good, and you love the delicious friction you feel.

“Can’t even go all the way inside you, baby.” Steve say softly, as if he himself is surprised by his own girth and by how small you are. “Fuck, you’re tinier than I remember. Guess I’m too big for you. Your cute little baby cunt can’t take me in, omega.”

“Please! F-Force it in.” Something carnal takes over you then, and you’re surprised by your own words; they sound so desperate, so lust-ridden and unabashed – like you’d die if he isn’t fully inside you.

And Steve growls, pushing out of you and picking you up – and he only needs one arm to do it – before forcibly turning you around so that you’re chest to chest with him. He forces you back down on his dick, and it’s so hard and imposing as it pierces into you, and you can’t help but clamber closer to Steve, both of you gasping against each other’s lips when he finally fills you up till the hilt, and the pain is so deliciously excruciating, you feel like you’ll break in half.

“I think I may have broke your pussy, baby.” He whispers, as you marvel at how much of a tight fit it is, his dick so snugly inside you, stretching out your walls as far as they’ll go around his fat girth. You truly do feel broken, but in the best way, and you wrap your arms around his neck, wanting to be closer.

“D-Don’t care, alpha.” You don’t know what’s suddenly come over you, maybe it’s the fact that he told you he loves you, maybe it’s because you haven’t had sex with him for weeks, maybe it’s because you’ve finally told him you’re pregnant and he’s proud of you, he’s promised to take care of you. Or maybe it’s something else altogether, but your desire for him has never been this high, this intense. Even Steve looks surprised.

Slowly, he starts bouncing you up and down on his dick. And you don’t have to do any work, just sit there and let him manoeuvre you, let him control your movements like a puppeteer, like how he controls every other aspect of your life. And maybe it’s time to admit that you like it that way, maybe it’s time to stop fighting with the omega inside you. Maybe this, here with him, is where you belong.

“You like me splitting you open like this, don’t you?” He whispers against your lips, capturing them in a searing kiss that has you grabbing his face and pulling him closer. Wanting to touch him and smell him and feel him and hold him and everything in between. His dick is hitting that special spot inside of you, making you cry out with every thrust, not caring that you’re being loud and this is a public place and anyone could walk in.

“I love you so much, baby.” And there it is again, those three words once again, penetrating into your heart and tattooing themselves upon it. His hand suddenly grabs yours, holding it close and pressing kisses all over your palm and fingers – and you’re reminded of the night where you’d begged him not to leave you, and how you’d done the same thing.

“I’m never letting you go, omega.” Steve speaks between kisses, all the while his hips are a blur as they move up and down, thrusting inside you like he wants to keep the two of you connected forever. “I’m gonna make you my housewife, keep you locked up and safe so no one can ever hurt you or my baby. I’m gonna take care of you, both of you.”

And you’re nodding feverishly, whispering “okay” over and over again, grinding down to meet his thrusts, biting your lip in bliss when his hand snakes down to where you two meet, his fingers deftly rubbing your clit, heightening your pleasure as his cock continues to tear you in half.

“My omega, all mine,” He growls, balls smacking against your skin as he fucks into you, your poor fuckhole so used and abused yet you don’t even care as you drip all over him, the pleasure growing steadily inside you, coils tightening as he fucks you like only he ever could. “Won’t let anyone else touch you, speak to you, even look at you anymore. You’re my property – my little wife knocked up with my kid. Won’t let anything come between us, not again.”

Through your delirium, you manage to lock eyes with him, clutching at him desperately, and your words come out so softly, and you feel so small when you ask him, “Y-Y-You promise?”

He stalls for a second, just a second, before his thrusts resume, hitting deeper if that’s even possible. He cups your face with his warm hand, and you can smell his heady, musky scent that you’re so addicted to. His eyes sparkle earnestly, like twin blue oceans that you could drown in except the experience would be pleasant. He leans close to you, so close; “I promise, omega.”

You cum so hard, you feel like you’re going to pass out, your walls constricting around his dick, squeezing it so hard while he continues to thrust up into you. You can feel your cream leaking down his dick, staining his uniform but it’s like you can’t stop squirting around him, your slick squeezing out of your worn-out pussy as it pulsates around his hard cock.

“Steve, oh my God, oh my God, fuck!” You cry out in complete abandon, clutching onto his biceps, your nails digging through the material of his jersey.

“That’s right baby, cum on daddy’s dick like the good little girl you are,” He coaxes you, rubbing your bare back almost soothingly, while his fat dick continues to pierce in and out of you at an inhumane pace – as if he’s savouring being inside you, as if he never wants to stop. “Squeeze my fucking dick, omega. Fuck, I’m gonna keep you pregnant forever, baby. Tell me you want that; tell me you want all my fucking babies.”

“W-Want your babies!” You cry out obediently, your body jelly on top of his, limbs twitching as the rushes of pleasure flush through your body. He’s using you like a fuckdoll now, an iron grip on your hips as he pounds into you as if he can’t get enough. His mouth latches onto your mark, licking and sucking possessively, and you think you might pass out from the pleasure – and he still wouldn’t stop.

You feel his dick twitch inside you, and he’s still fucking you through his own release, his seed so hot as it pours into you. Spurting hot cum, coating your insides like he’s trying to brand you, and he grips firmly onto your hair, pulling your face to his and kissing you roughly. “I love you, baby.” He whispers soft as a feather against your lips, and you don’t think you’ll ever get tired of hearing him say it, as you grind down, his thick ropes of cum mingling with your own slick, and he’s still pumping out more. As if his load is so heavy and he won’t stop until you’re completely filled up.

“Marry me.”

For the second time today, he renders you completely speechless. Third time, if you count your reaction to his book of sketches. Cupping both your cheeks and making you look at him and only him, and you don’t know what to think. First ‘I love you’ and now ‘marry me’? The alarm bells are chiming softly in the rational part of your mind – because isn’t all of this happening too fast, too suddenly, too soon?

“Marry me, omega.” Steve repeats, “Let me take you home. To Brooklyn. I’ll take care of you, give you a real home, I’ll make you so happy. And you can leave this place behind.”

Leave it behind? What did he mean by that? Your degree? There’re so many questions on your mind: Is he being serious? Does he mean it? Why is all of this coming out now? Should you believe him, believe his promises – when your own trust in him has come back to slap you in the face multiple times in the past? And what if this is all some cruel practical joke? What about your education, your scholarship? What about your mother? What about… what about… what about–

But it’s like your mind is working in overdrive to forcibly push all those thoughts out, and replace them with how he’d told you he loved you. How he’d apologised to you last night. All the sketches he made of you – those weren’t a joke, were they? They couldn’t be.

Time to surrender, the omega inside of you is beguiling as ever; time to be happy…

“Okay.” You whisper.

He breaks into a smile, like he knows you could never say no to him, and presses kisses all over your face.

There’s a quiet calm as he picks you up, taking you to the nearby bathroom and helping you clean up. You thought your head would be a screaming mess of emotions, but your thoughts are eerily quiet as you let him clean and redress you. Maybe this was all meant to be, and this is where you belonged. Maybe he meant it this time – maybe he’d take care of you and keep you happy forever. And you have the baby to think about too – maybe this was best for the baby.

He carries you back out of the bathroom, only setting you down on your feet when he’s opening the exit doors to get back out onto the field. And even then, he holds your hand tightly – so tightly, as if you’re a kite that might fly away.

Outside, everyone is still celebrating – almost as if the two of you never left. You can see Sam and the rest of the football team popping open cans of beer and pouring it all down their fronts, or shaking hands with different people, or kissing their own girlfriends. Instinctively, Steve’s grip on your hand tightens even more.

“Hey, Cap! We’re taking a team picture with the trophy. C’mon!” One of his teammates calls out before the whole team begins to assemble themselves into haphazard rows while the professional photographer tries to guide them.

You feel Steve hesitating before letting go of you, grabbing your shoulders instead.

“Don’t move, omega. I’ll be right back.”

You nod, smiling softly, “Okay, Steve. I’m right here.”

It’s like he’s searching your face for something, and you wish to God you knew what because you’d show it to him in a heartbeat. But then his face softens, he grabs the back of your neck and pulls you close, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. And then he jogs away, joining his friends and being greeted with hoots and cheers and high-fives and chants of his name. He looks like a king on top of his world, standing up front and centre. Someone thrusts the gigantic trophy in his hand, and he holds it up proudly, smiling cockily at the camera.

You take it all in, feeling a mix of emotions ranging from pride for him as well as a certain sense of imposter syndrome. He’s a king and you’re an ant – but he loves you. He told you so, he told you so, he told you so–

“HEY!”

The repeated calling of your name doesn’t register to you until it’s right up against your ear, and you feel someone grip your wrist roughly, tugging you back. You turn around in alarm, mouth dropping open when you see who it is.

“Peter! What are you doing here?”

Peter looks dishevelled, out of breath as if he’s been running around all day. His spiky hair is longer than how you remember it, with brown locks tumbling down his forehead. His cheeks are flushed and eyes bright, the remnants of his fading black eye very apparent on his face. And his hold on your wrist is tighter than ever – just like how Steve’s grip was earlier.

Heart pounding, you glance back at Steve – but he’s still busy hoisting the trophy high in the air, posing for pictures and shaking hands with different people.

“Went to your dorm – you weren’t there.” Peter huffs, trying to catch his breath as quickly as he can. “Someone said you might be here – that the entire college was here. And they weren’t wrong – I’ve been looking for you in the crowd for ages. I figured this would be the best way, since he’d be too busy playing to notice anything.”

Peter casts a quick glance at Steve too, before pulling you further away. When he doesn’t stop, you tug back.

“What’re you doing? We can’t… I can’t be speaking to you, he’ll–”

“Come on!” Peter cuts you off, an almost desperate sense of urgency in his tone as he keeps glancing back at Steve. There’s a certain panic to his demeanour, as if he’s in a hurry. “Look, this is the perfect opportunity – he’s distracted, we can just slip out and –”

“Wait, Peter–”

“No, I’m not going to wait and neither are you!” Peter hisses, yanking your arm and pulling you further and further away, off the side of the field and leading to the stairs where a sizeable crowd of people is still mingling.

“Look, I spent a whole month feeling sorry for myself for getting beaten up… For letting him get the best of me. And I barely spared a second to think of you and what you must’ve been going through.” Peter’s talking rapidly, and he never stops moving, never stops tugging you but he does keep looking over his shoulder in Steve’s direction, his palm clammy as he holds on to your wrist. “But then you called, and you sounded distressed. I knew he wasn’t treating you right, I knew I had to do something.”

You swallow harshly, taking another look back at Steve – now his teammates have hoisted him onto their shoulders again, and he’s still smiling for pictures. A million thoughts race through your head, “Peter, I have to get back, he’s gonna–”

But it’s like Peter doesn’t hear you at all, as he determinedly pulls you up the stairs behind him and towards the exit. And you do want to speak to him, of course you do! You haven’t spoken to him for more than a month, and there’s so many things you want to ask him. But, but, but…

“I’m so fucking stupid for not doing something sooner. You were my girlfriend… You are my girlfriend and I should’ve taken care of you.”

You shake your head rapidly, “Peter, please listen! I don’t want to… I don’t think this is a good id–”

“You’re never gonna have to see that sick sonofabitch again, I promise you that much. I’m doing what I should have done that day I showed up at your dorm – take you away from him.”

“Peter, no, I–”

But either it’s the roar of the people around you or his own determination, but he doesn’t seem to hear your pleas. Everything’s happening too fast, the thoughts racing around in your head and the panic bubbling in your chest. Peter is good, you know this – and you know he means well. And yet…

You feel your mark prickle hotly, and you whip around in time to see Steve’s head snap in your direction. Your eyes lock with his for one single split second, and your mark throbs in pain and you feel a certain unrest in your bond, and it feels like you can’t breathe.

The hurt that flashes through Steve’s eyes is the last thing you see before you’re yanked out the exit and swallowed up by the crowd.

Well. If you managed to make it to the end of this chapter, thank you! I really hope you enjoyed. Guys, I poured my life and soul into this... and I hope I did this chapter justice. Please, PLEASE PLEASE reblog! And give me feedback. That’s what keeps me going honestly. I would love to hear what you think. In fact, i’m nervous to know what you think! And what should we expect for the next part? All I’m gonna say is... Steve’s omega has been taken from him, if he was mean before, it’s nothing compared to what he’ll be now. ALRIGHT BYE. and thank you for all your support! Love you guys!

#chris evans #steve rogers #dark steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #dark chris evans #bucky barnes #mcu

[hellfirexclub]

i don't know if you're taking requests but i absolutely loved the 'calling them daddy' one of the boys. if you want, could you do one where they call the reader mommy or something during seggs time.

only if you want to, thank youu anyways!!

Hey thank you for the request!! This was actually lowkey a bit hard for me to write because I'm such a sub myself, so I really hope I conveyed it well and I hope you enjoy!!! also it pained me to write mummy with an 'o' every time but I knew I'd be rinsed by you guys if I didn't lmao

warnings: 18+, fem!reader, mommy kink obvs, p in v sex, riding, tittyfucking, titty sucking, overstimulation, edging, grinding, fdom/msub, blowjobs, light choking.

Steve: 

Steve looked so good under you right now, looking completely fucked out with his gorgeous locks stuck to his sweaty face, cheeks pink as you slowly ride him. You both loved it when you would take control, pinning him down and sinking onto his cock instead of Steve being on top. You had been edging Steve for a good while now, teasing him painfully by sliding off of his cock anytime he got close, and he couldn’t take much more of it. Steve squirmed and writhed beneath you as you teased him, loving the look on the pretty boys face when he’s this desperate to cum.

“Fuck baby, I can’t-” Steve groans, legs shaking as you continue to slowly bounce on him, hissing when you slip off of him again with a smirk, his soaked cock twitching in the air, hips desperately rutting to find more friction.

“You want to cum Stevie? Beg me.” You whisper seductively into the brunettes ear, biting the shell of it while he moans, face flushed as he looks up at you desperately. You sink back down on him, watching his eyes roll into the back of his head as you begin to bounce on him again, hearing nothing but the sound of your slick against his thighs as he ruts up to meet you. 

“Please baby. Please let me cum.” He moans breathlessly, eyebrows furrowing as you only tut and shake your head at him.

“That’s not good enough Steve. Beg better.” You coo darkly, loving the way he chokes out a moan when you slip off of him again, a frustrated grunt slipping past his lips as his hips buck up in desperate need of more friction. He grips the bedsheets hard enough you think him might rip them, strangled moans escaping him as precum leaks from his furiously red tip, showing how desperate he is to cum. You wrap a hand around his throat gently as you sink back down on him, drawing a frantic moan from the boy beneath you.

“Please let me cum mommy, I can’t take it anymore.” Steve whines desperately, not realising what he’d said until your amused chuckle makes his eyes shoot open in shock. His mouth opens and closes like a fish, face only getting redder as he tries to think of something to say, but he stops when he sees the glint in your eye as you lean down into his face.

“Mommy huh? Is that what you want call me?” You tease breathily into his face, loving the way his eyes flicker in pleasure at your words, biting his lip hard as your hips grind against him faster. “Beg Mommy to let you cum some more and then maybe I’ll finally let you fill me up, okay?” You tell him, biting his lip sensually before you move back and watch him writhe beneath you with his flushed face. You begin to ride him faster, holding back your own moans as Steve grunts under you and squeezes his eyes shut, trying to act like he’s still the tough guy and not an absolute desperate mess of a sub for you right now. “C’mon Steve, if I don’t hear you then I’m just going to stop.” 

“Please! Please let me cum Mommy, I need to fill you up so bad.” Steve practically sobs out, panting heavily as he stares up at you pleadingly.

“Okay Stevie, you’ve been a good boy so you’re allowed to cum in Mommy now.”

Billy:

You and Billy had been ‘seeing each other’ a couple of months now. You were just another girl to him, another slut, he was only letting you sleep with him because of what he got out of it. That’s what Billy tells himself when he’s awake late at night missing you, wanting to have taken up your offer to stay the night and cuddle but letting his pride get in the way. Billy was confused by what he felt and was spitefully ignoring it in hopes he would just shake it and stop feeling his heart tighten with happiness every time he’s around you. It would take Billy feeling a lot of comfort around you for the words to ever slip out of his mouth, and you know that a part of him almost needs it, to just let go and allow himself to feel freely and without shame. You had him on his back, for once he was feeling lazy and just wanted you to sloppily ride him as he guides your hips with his hands. Billy’s head is thrown back in a long groan as you slowly tease his dick, almost letting the tip slide out of you before slipping all the way back down onto him. Billy’s grip on your hips tighten, holding you in place balls deep on his cock as he hisses at your cunt clenching around him.

“That feel too good Baby?” You coo teasingly, biting your lip at the weak growl Billy lets out to tell you to cut it out. “You’re being such a good boy, fucking me so deep like this” You coo again, making Billy shiver. You relish the way he bites his lip as his cheeks redden slightly, but he tries to keep up his act of dominance and bounce you harder on his cock.

“Shut up or you’re going to regret it” He threats in that deep, sexy voice of his, though theres a waver in his voice that you’ve never heard from Billy before. You laugh in response and Billy brings a hand to your throat, teeth grit as he pulls your face towards his. 

“What? You don’t want me to call you a good boy, Billy?” You whisper, watching Billy’s mouth fall open into a silent moan at you calling him good boy again. He stares at you almost pleadingly but he still shakes his head, releasing your throat as you smirk at the effect you’re actually having on him. “I think you like me calling you a good boy, don’t you baby?” You whisper into his ear, making his eyes flicker as he tries to keep them from rolling back into his head with pleasure. Your tits are in his face now and Billy groans, grabbing them both and kneading them roughly, his hips frantically rutting up into yours. He takes one of your nipples into his mouth as he plays with the other and you smirk, ready to break him. “Good boy, suck on Mommy’s tits just like that” You coo, and Billy actually moans around your nipple, unable to keep the sound in. He releases it with a pop and looks over you desperately, something unspoken having taken over his features. It’s not something Billy has ever thought about, or rather he’s not allowed himself to, but his cock gets impossibly hard at your words and he finds himself wanting to fucking beg you to say it again. “Tell Mommy you like it or she’ll stop” You tease into his ear, making him quietly moan again, ferocity in his eyes as he debates saying it, embarrassed to allude to how much he actually likes it. True to your words you stop moving, sitting still on his cock as Billy whines and finds your hips again while you cockwarm him. Your eyebrow is raised as you wait for his next move, he tries to move your hips but you refuse to let him and for once Billy obliges to that. He growls low as you clench tightly around him, overstimulated and desperate to cum inside you. 

“I like it” He growls, giving into you and trying to rut up into you again. You tut and shake your head at him, and he knows exactly why, exactly what you want to hear before you’ll let him cum. 

“I…I like it, Mommy” Billy drawls out quietly, breath heavy and eyes drowning in lust. Without a moments pause you’re riding him again fervently as Billy lets out a strangled groan, barely able to keep hold of your hips for how much he was shaking with his approaching orgasm.

“Good boy, you can cum for me now.”

Eddie:

While I see Eddie predominantly as a dom, I think he’s very switchy and would melt in your hands if you took charge of him. It all started because of your stupid, sexy elf costume. Eddie had been planning out the next part of the campaign ready for the following night when you’d told him you wanted to show him your costume for it. Eddie was super excited as not many people actually cosplayed, typically everyone just wore their hellfire club shirts for games. So imagine his shock when you walked back in dressed entirely in a skimpy Elven dress, your cleavage pushed up and straining against the dress as Eddie’s jaw dropped to the floor. You chuckle at his reaction, approaching him slowly, biting your lip as his eyes rake over your body. You can tell he likes the look of your elf ears too, his fingers brushing them gently when you were closer enough.

“Fuck.” Was all he could manage to say hazily, swallowing hard when you push him back down into his seat and straddle his lap. Eddie looks up at you wide eyed, biting his lip enough to draw blood when you move to grind against his already rock hard cock, his shaky hands frantically reaching round to grab your ass and grind you against him harder. Your tits, squeezed into the form of the most perfect cleavage Eddie had ever seen had his mouth watering as they sat in front of his face, desperately wanting to have them smushed into his face.

“Holy shit baby,” Eddie moans as his hands reach up to tease the exposed skin, “Your tits look so fucking good in this.” He breathes, panting as he watches them bounce while you continue your movements. All it took was you biting your lip seductively at him, reaching your own hands up to the top of the dress and slowly pulling it down to break Eddie, him panting heavily beneath you as you almost expose your nipples to him.

“Please Mommy.” Eddie moans breathlessly, hips rutting up into yours frantically as you tease him. Eddie quickly realises what he said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly as his cheeks go pink and he lets out a nervous chuckle. 

“Mommy?” You ask him, tease in your voice as Eddie splutters trying to bluff that it accidentally slipped out. 

“I uh- didn’t mean to say that.” Eddie says unconvincingly, his cheeks a dark red as you look down at him unconvinced. You smirk at him, eyeing his frantic features darkly. 

“Oh, so you’re telling me you don’t want to see Mommy’s milkers then?” You coo at him, knowing you’ve got him when he moans loudly in response to you saying those words, his eyes burning with pure desperation for you. “Guess I’ll just get off of you then…” You tease, trialling off for him to leap into action. Eddie shakes his head frantically, hands flying to your waist to keep you against him when you teasingly pretend you’re going to get off of him, looking up at you desperately.

“Please don’t, I’ll be a good boy now! I want to see them Mommy” Eddie moans, blissed out and in dire need for you to fuck the shit out of him. You smile at him softly, patting his cheek at his compliant behaviour.

“Good boy.’ You coo softly, running your thumb over his soft lips as he swallows and tries not to pant too loudly. His cock was now straining painfully in his pants, desperately in need of your attention. You pull your top down slowly, finally exposing your tits to him, which he almost drools at. “Suck on Mommy’s tits baby.” 

Jonathan:

Jonathan as we know is a total sub and and would definitely have a very obvious mommy kink, which would be so fun to tease him about. Jonathan would be quite timid sexually for a while in the relationship, too focused on worrying about how he looks or how he’s performing. But you’d slowly help him gain his confidence and realise that you enjoying having sex with him as much as he does you. Once he gets more comfortable he’s more vocal about the things he likes, letting you know he much prefers to be submissive and have you in control of him. That’s what gave you the inclination that he would definitely want to call you mommy, but since he hadn’t mentioned it yet you decided you had to draw it out of him yourself. You had Jonathan laying on his back, his soft moans emanating through the room as you slowly suck him off.

“T-that feels so good baby.” He praises you softly, his hips slowly bucking up against your mouth as you bob your head on him. Your eyes twinkle as you take him down into your throat, loving the loud moan that escapes his mouth and the way his head falls back in pleasure. You slide your mouth off of him with a pop, meeting his heated gaze with your own. 

“Do you want my tits wrapped around it?” You ask him, pressing your tits together in demonstration of what you mean.

“I-I mean, only if you want to do that.” He replies breathlessly, very much wanting you to tit fuck him but not wanting you to feel forced to.

“Mommy wants to do it for you, baby.” You whisper into his ear, earning a strangled gasp from Jonathan. His face goes red, knowing you must have found the magazines he’d tried to keep hidden, eyes wide as he looks over you. “It’s okay baby, don’t look so worried. You can call me Mommy if you want to.” You tell him lovingly, brushing his hair from his face and placing a kiss to his lips as he nods frantically, almost wanting to cry at your acceptance. “So, will you tell Mommy want you want me to do with your words?” You ask him gently, moving back down to sit between his legs. He takes a deep breath, nervous to say anything aloud to you, only pants escaping his lips. You wrap your hand around his cock again, getting a moan out of him while you slowly rub it in your hand.

“Please.” He says quietly, making you raise a brow at him to continue. “I… I want you to titfuck me, Mommy.” He breathes, getting a smirk in response from you at his choice of words. Seems all it takes for him to get a bit filthy was for you to really take charge of him.

“Anything for you my darling.” You coo, spitting on your hand to slick up his cock before pressing your tits together, holding the cleavage together while you slip them down over his cock, earning a loud groan from Jonathan. 

‘Can I…” Jonathan trails off as he stares at your tits with pink cheeks. You’ve been in this position enough times to know what he wants.

“Yes, you can take a picture of me baby.”

#Eddie Munson smut #billy hargrove smut #Steve Harrington smut #Jonathan byers smut #Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson x you #Billy Hargrove x reader #Billy Hargrove x you #Steve Harrington x reader #Steve Harrington x you #stranger things smut #stranger things imagines #Jonathan byers x reader #Jonathan byers x you

[allisonlol]

hii!! can i get dazai, chuuya, tecchou when their s/o safewords during sex plsss

a/n: i got so excited when i saw this req i fr started writing instantly lol. i’ve always had an idea similar to this in the back of my mind but never got around to writing it, so thx for requesting & reminding me >:)

warnings: mentions of sexual activity (somewhat explicit), safeword usage, brief descriptions of pain and blood

(Dazai, Chuuya, Tecchou) When Their S/O Safewords

Dazai

you and dazai had been at it for awhile now, and so far everything was fine

but suddenly, dazai lifted up your legs and pressed them back against your chest, forcing you into a mating press

you gasped at the sensation of how much deeper he was able to go now, & threw your head back against the pillow

but after a minute you registered a throbbing pain in your abdomen

the ache soon turned into sharp, shooting pains that were hard to ignore and outweighed the pleasure

ur body wasn’t used to this position yet and, unable to bear it anymore, you grab onto dazai’s shoulder & frantically say your safeword

it takes a few seconds for him to register what you said

but once he realizes, his eyes go wide and he stops, face paling slightly

^although it goes unsaid, dazai hates the thought of hurting you even unintentionally so he automatically feels guilty

kind of draws in on himself and won’t look you in the eye as he asks what’s wrong

pls just let him know what happened and that you’re not badly hurt

once you explain the situation and reassure him, dazai will lowkey start making fun of you?? lightheartedly of course

says some shit like “sorry my dick is too long babe😞” boy if you don’t shut the hell up

will resume only once you’ve reassured him several times that you feel better and are willing to continue

^even then he maintains a more gentle & slower pace

Chuuya

chuuya is known as an abrasive person in general and this aggressive behavior also regards to how he acts in bed

so i can see him getting carried away at times

don’t get me misunderstood tho. chuuya is very attentive and lives in fear of hurting you so usually he’s overly cautious

today was a bit different tho; the both of you had a stressful day of dealing with mafia business & were looking for a healthy way to release frustrations

so currently, chuuya had you pinned down on his desk, but was being more aggressive than usual

the intensity & degrading words which usually turned you on were now only making u feel more tired and upset

your eyes start tearing up and you try to hold back for him, but it's only a few more minutes before you're weakly calling out the safeword

chuuya is alert to every sound you make so he instantly hears it & stops, gently helping you up and turning you around to face him

sits you down on his chair and crouches on the floor next to it so you're at eye level

his heart almost stops when he sees the tears threatening to fall from your eyes & he curses himself for not noticing

you admit that you're just feeling a little upset at his words and it's probably because of the stressful day you both had

while you give him a watery smile and insist you are fine now, chuuya is still going to really internalize his guilt. you'll notice for a few weeks after that he is much softer n passionate both with his words and in bed <33

Tecchou

honestly he's such a soft lover that it's unlikely he'd hurt you in any way during sex

^always praising you, letting you know how much he loves you and just being sweet n gentle in general

this isn't to say he doesn't have days where he's rougher but even then, he is careful

SO in order for you to actually need to safeword, i believe there would have to be a third factor

^that being an injury you'd gotten at work the other day. while nothing particularly bad, it was a light slash across your abdomen from a blade

you'd bandaged it up of course, and tecchou had asked several times if you'd still wanted to continue despite the injury (to which you'd insisted)

at first everything was fine, but after 10 minutes you registered the cut starting to sting and assumed it had reopened. since it was so minor you figured afterwards you would just patch it up again

however it only gradually got worse and even with tecchou being his usual gentle self, the pain was too much </3

BUT tecchou is so attentive that u didn't even have to safeword

^notices the tears forming in your eyes and the way you're trying to hide your wince at every inward thrust he does

stops immediately and refuses to continue, pressing a kiss on your lips every time you try to protest

you're all like "no i'm fine!!" but he just gives a pointed look towards your bandage which is starting to spot with blood

y'all not tecchou having such good dick it made you bleed- jk jk

rebandages it for you and makes a "no sex" rule until you're completely better >:0

taglist: @deadmitochondria @miycutie @chuuyasboots @shy-socially-awkward-intovert @beandaifuku @stygianoir @sonder-paradise @irethepotato @serenareiss @ashthemadwriter

#bsd x reader #bsd x you #bsd x y/n #bungo stray dogs x reader #dazai smut #dazai x reader #dazai imagines #dazai headcanons #chuuya x you #chuuya x reader #chuuya smut #chuuya hcs #dazai x you #dazai x y/n #tecchou x y/n #tecchou x reader #tecchou smut #dazai hcs #bsd smut #bsd scenarios #dazai scenarios #chuuya scenarios

[sister-lucifer]

Hiya, hope you're having a pog day <3

I wanted to make a request if possible (also if you're comfortable with it, if not, feel free to ignore this ask!! no worries)

nsfw headcanons for Hoodie and Masky with a trans masc s/o (with top surgery scars)

Masky + Hoodie w/ a trans masc partner who has top surgery scars 

Masky + Hoodie x Reader (separately) 

Genre: Fluff + NSFW, headcanons 

Content/warnings: There’s a lot of talk of reader’s body but it’s all positive, Tim is insecure about his scars, chest + tummy kisses, tooth rotting fluff AND some soft romantic NSFW 😌 

Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio (request rules + masterlist in pinned post)!

Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out 

Feedback is encouraged and appreciated:)

Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors!

A/N: Sorry if you wanted like…hardcore nasty NSFW, this is really sweet 😔 

Tim Wright/Masky 

Although I don’t personally headcanon Tim as trans (though i definitely enjoy trans tim content 👌😋), he certainly has his fair share of scars 

They’re mostly on his arms and hands

Some are from fights, others are from miscellaneous accidents, some have been there as long as he can remember and he’s not even sure where they came from

But theres one thing he knows for sure:

He HATES when people point them out 

He can’t really explain it, he just hates having attention drawn to them 

You may not feel the same way, but even if you say you don’t mind he’ll be careful not to point them out 

That’s not to say you won’t catch him staring when he thinks you’re not looking, though 

The scars just look so…natural, on you 

Like they’ve always been there 

He forgets that they’re scars, really 

He’s not sure why he feels so different about scars on you than he does on him 

The longer he’s with you the less he notices your scars anymore 

And the less he notices his own too 

Over time he becomes less insecure about them as he watches you not only live with but accept and maybe even embrace your scars 

And there’s something he loves about being able to run his hand down your bare chest, the marks on his hand matching with your scars 

Especially when he finds you in bed with him, climbing on top of him and straddling his lap 

He cant stop himself from reaching out and pulling your shirt off, his large hands splaying out over your torso as he admires you, feeling your heartbeat thump behind your ribs 

If your position allows him to see your chest, don’t be surprised if he can’t pull his eyes away 

He’s not very talkative during sex, but he’s always sure to remind you how handsome you are 

He knows sex can sometimes trigger dysphoria, and he doesn’t want you to forget that you’re his sweet boy, forever and always

You can thank him for the praise by taking one of his scarred hands and pressing a soft kiss to it, a silent reassurance that his feelings about you are not unrequited 

Brian Thomas/Hoodie 

Brian, on the other hand, is very vocal about how attractive he finds your scars 

Although he’s got a few of his own, they’re generally not very noticeable 

And even if someone did point them out, he’d simply laugh them off 

So he feels comfortable telling you how much he loves your scars 

They’re a reminder of how strong you are, he says 

It’s not easy embracing your true trans self in this world, and you should wear your scars with pride 

He’s got an artistic streak, so don’t be surprised if he asks to draw on them 

He may even suggest getting a cool tattoo to emphasize them! 

Like barbed wire or a flower chain or something 

But if you don’t want that, he’s perfectly content simply being allowed to run his fingers over your scars 

He’ll often absentmindedly begin tracing them whenever you’re laying together, sometimes not even realizing he’s doing it 

He loves to kiss your chest too 

He’s a romantic type, what can I say 🤷 

He just loves to give your scars all the gentle attention they deserve, he can’t help it 

Don’t be surprised if his hands find your scars as if they have a mind of their own, always wandering to your chest whenever you’re standing at the counter or sitting on the couch with him 

And don’t be surprised if those wandering hands lead to more than just gentle touches 

If you allow him his way during sex, he’ll always insist on having you on your back 

He’ll pay extra attention to your chest, and i don’t just mean your scars (although they certainly aren’t ignored) 

He’s much more vocal than Tim, a constant stream of praises and reassurances spilling from his mouth and he drones on and on about how handsome you are and how lucky he is to have such a beautiful boy like you to take care of 

You’re an absolute beauty to him, and he’s going to make sure he tells you every chance he gets  

Brian Thomas: The Dysphoria Miracle Cure 

#marble hornets #marble hornets x reader #marble hornets smut #masky x reader smut #masky x reader #male reader #trans masc reader #ftm reader #tim wright #masky #tim wright x reader #tim wright headcanons #marble hornets headcanons #hoodie x reader #brian thomas #brian thomas x reader #brian thomas headcanon #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta smut

[critical-twenty]

I'm kinda new to the cr fandom so i only know c1 stuff... could you write something with the prompt "is it okay to hug you?" from the part 2 list! Maybe something with the party having a s/o who struggles with touch and being vulnerable who has been having a very stressful day? Cries easily when they are frustrated or upset? 😢 If thats too much maybe just something with Vax or Percy cause i love them the most. 💖

sorry this is so late! it’s been sitting in my notes for ages, i’ve just been too busy to post it!

S/O who struggles with touch has a stressful day!

Vax

Vax never really has an issue with the lack of touch in your relationship

Sure, he likes to hold your hand, but it’s not the end of the world if you don’t want to

He’s able to fluster you with just his words anyway

But when you come home one day with tears in your eyes and tension in your back, Vax is unsure of what to do

His first instinct is to reach out to you. It’s what he does for Vex and the others, so why wouldn’t he?

He stops himself when he remembers how much you dislike being touched without express permission

Even when you start crying, Vax doesn’t want to make things worse, so he just stares at you as he tries to ask what’s wrong

You look up at him through tearful eyes and ask ‘Can I hug you?’

Vax is immediately scooping you into his arms, letting his warmth invade your senses and comfort you

He tentatively begins to rub a hand up and down your back, continuing when you don’t tell him to stop

He’s relieved, in all honesty. He’s relieved he can help you and he’s honored that you let him hug you in such a moment of need

When you finally calm down enough to talk, he draws away to give you some space

His fingers stay connected with yours though, as you won’t let him go

He smiles at this, before pressing a kiss to your head

‘I’m sorry you had such a hard day, sweetheart. I’ll be here as long as you need me to be’

And he is 🖤

Grog

It took Grog a while to understand your reluctance in touch

It wasn’t that he thought it was weird, he just couldn’t read the signals as to how uncomfortable you were with his physical affection and you didn’t want to say anything

Finally, though, you told him about how you weren’t the biggest fan of touching

He nods, but it doesn’t fully register

Still he tries his best to remember, but he forget sometimes

He apologizes when he forgets and you can’t really get mad at him when he’s so genuine

When you come back home from a really rough day, Grog can instantly tell that something is up

He’s not the smartest, but when it comes to your happiness, he’s learned to become more attentive

He also knows that you don’t always want to be touched when you’re like this

(Pike had reminded him enough that it stuck with him)

So he watches you until he really can’t stand the sight of it anymore

‘Can I hug you?’

You look up at him with tears ready to fall and nod

Grog gives the best comforting hugs. He’s gentle but firm and he won’t let go until you ask him to

He’s not perfect, but he’s trying

Percy

Percival Fredrickstein von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III was never a man who thrived in touch

He rarely initiated physical contact with you and whenever he did, he asked for your permission first

It was like he already knew about your dislike for touch without you even telling him

(He definitely did. He’s observant enough to see your subtle emotions and tells)

You were perfectly content with a dynamic mostly built on quality time and acts of service, rather than physical affection

This wasn’t always the case though

You had had a particularly hard day at work. There was so much to do and you felt like not enough time to do it all

So, when you walked into Percy’s Tinker Room, he instantly noticed your tense demeanor

He is the king of stress himself, he knows the signs

However he doesn’t know what to do. He knows that he likes to be alone when stressed, but by seeking him out you seem to want to be around him

He contemplates in his head for a moment as you tell him about your day, waiting for you to finish before he stands up and comes over to you

‘May I hug you, darling?’

You immediately look at him, before barreling into his arms

He’s quick to wrap them around you, pressing a light kiss to the crown of your head as he tries to ground you

He’ll hold you as long as you want. He’ll even offer cuddles

Needless to say, he’s done working for the day. You need him and that’s 10x more important than anything else

Scanlan

It took Scanlan awhile to adapt to your feelings on touch

He’s a naturally extroverted person and he’s usually the first to initiate physical contact with anyone, so it’s an adjustment for him

However, once he finds out that it’s even more fun to fluster you with his shitty pick-up lines and love songs, the physical touch thing becomes easier

He slips up every once in a while, but he tries to make it up to you (he is a secret romantic underneath that… sexual persona)

You go find him, sitting with his lute, after an awful day

You were tired, and stressed, and part of you just wanted to go to sleep and wake up when this project you were working on was over

Scanlan knew the minute you walked over to him that something was up

Not wanting to be obvious in his effort to comfort you, and not wanting to touch you when you were clearly already tense, he decided to do what he does best: talk

He began to make small talk, talking about his songs and his day and whatever was going on with his friends

He thought it was working, until you said his name and looked up at him with tired eyes

‘Can I have a hug?’

He was stunned for a moment, obviously not expecting it, but he got over it quickly

He lightly wrapped himself around you, holding you close and just letting it be

It was rare that Scanlan was so silent but, for once, the only sound was breathing

It was a small moment, but it was more than enough for you

Keyleth

Keyleth was awkward at first

Not because she had a hard time without physical affection, but more because she didn’t know what to do in general

Romance was still foreign to her

Still, she read your body language with perfection

You didn’t even need to tell her that you didn’t like physical touch… she just knew

You were thankful for that

It had been a stressful day and you were really just looking forward to hanging out with Keyleth

Sitting in the forest and listening to her talk to the plants always calmed you down

But even as you sat there, the stress didn’t go away

Keyleth noticed immediately, of course

She’s not great at words but she is more than adept at movement

‘…Is it okay if I hug you?’

You looked up with wide eyes and Keyleth immediately backtracks

‘We don’t have to, of course! You just seemed a bit tense and I thought maybe a hug might help be we don’t have to do that if you don’t-‘

She’s cut off by your arms gently wrapping around her waist

She freezes for a moment, before embracing you

It’s warm and comforting and Keyleth suddenly understands why people like doing this so much

She’ll hold you as long as you need. After all, she’s enjoying herself just as much as you are

Vex

Vex’ahlia is the queen of subtle touches

She loved resting a hand on the shoulders of her friends, or bumping into them playfully as they walked

It took a bit of self-control to not do those things with you

It wasn’t hard, per say. It just required a bit more focus and awareness of her movements

But, Vex would do anything for you, so she learned (quickly, as expected)

It was after a fight, while everyone was setting up camp, that Vex noticed the look on your face

It was the same look she saw when you were stuck on a particular puzzle, or when everything seemed to be piling on your shoulders

‘My dear, are you alright?’

You shrug half heartedly

‘Would you like to accompany Trinket and I on a walk? I think it will be quite relaxing and the moon is especially gorgeous tonight.’

Vex waits for your reply when finally you look up

‘Vex, will you hold me?’

Vex doesn’t even falter

Sure, she’s surprised, but the urge to comfort you overrides everything else

She hold you as close as she can without it being uncomfortable, rubbing circles on your back and whispering sweet encouragements into your ear

When you part, she tells you to take your time joining the rest of the party, before turning around and giving hushed threats to anyone who dares make a comment

You hear them, but it’s endearing. It shows that she care.

Pike

Pike is a very affectionate person

Not in the same flirty way as Vax or Scanlan, nor in the subtle way as Vex

Pike was just a very loving woman. Physical affection (including hugs) were just commonplace to her

Which is why she was a little stunned when you told her that you weren’t too fond of physical touch

It was hard for her, at first, because she had to find new ways to express all the love that she had for you, but your comfort came before everything

She always asked before initiating anything and you were always so thankful for that

One day, you came back to find Pike kneeling in the garden, mumbling under her breath

You assumed she was praying (for what, you weren’t sure) but you really needed her

Today had been hell and Pike had always known how to make you feel better

Sitting behind her, you gently rested your head on her shoulder

She tensed, knowing it was you, but confused by the display of touch

Still, she didn’t saying anything

‘Pike…’

She knew with that one call of her name what you needed

‘Do you want me to hug you?’

A small nod was all it took for Pike to spin around and gather you in her arms

Her hugs were like sunshine embodied

You felt all your stress and tension slip away as she held you close

Maybe she was a God herself, with the way she made you feel so safe in her embrace

#critical role #critical role imagine #critical role x reader #critical role c1 #critical role campaign 1 #tlovm #tlovm x reader #vax'ildan #vax x reader #vax'ildan x reader #grog strongjaw #grog x reader #grog strongjaw x reader #percy de rolo #percival de rolo #percy de rolo x reader #percy x reader #scanlan x reader #scanlan shorthalt #keyleth #keyleth x reader #vex'ahlia #vex'ahlia x reader #vex x reader #pike trickfoot #pike x reader #vox machina #vox machina x reader

[nathandrakeisabottom]

Headcannons about them with an anxious SO? Love your stuff x

Thank you, friend! Now, in full canonical honesty, I don’t believe that either Nathan or Sam would be particularly good at dealing with their deeper anxiety, let alone someone else’s, let alone someone else’s who they loved dearly and would only be afraid to make it worse (that many crumbling bridges and a guy’s gotta if consider his only superpower is the ability to destroy everything he touches) for most of their young lives. 

However, I do believe that post-UC4 (perhaps a little earlier for Nathan), and a good dose of necessary therapy (paid for in pirate coins, of course)--- they’d be more than willing to finally take on the challenge. 

For themselves, and for the person they love more than anything.

Drakes with an Anxious S/O Headcanons

Nathan:

In his younger days, the prince of the awkward smile and half-hearted clap on the back. A pulley doll whose only catchphrases were “Man, that’s hard”, “Yeah. Yeesh.”, and “Soooo, I guess this would be a bad time for a joke, huh?”. Scurries to the bathroom as soon as they’re not in tears anymore, and stays there for as long as it takes to stop hearing the residual sobs.

However, his late 30s and 40s bring him a much healthier perspective (and therapy— Jesus, finally) and being the smarty pants he is, he passes on no opportunity to put his new skills and knowledge to use.

That playfulness and desire to find the lightness in even the hardest situations never leaves him at any age, though.

A panic attack? “‘Is something… wrong with you’? You realize you’re talking to the guy who accidentally destroys ancient temples for a living, as an archaeologist? And I still consider myself a not so bad guy. So in my eyes, you’re basically a lesser known Mesopotamian god.”

Got a bad grade? “A D in Psychometrics? I don’t know, sounds like they don’t know anything about math if they’re using a letter to grade you. Maybe they should go get their teaching certificates checked. Hey, how ‘bout I just draw you a PhD myself? You know I have an eye for art.” 

Dealing with shitty parents? Landlord? Roommates? Exes who won’t leave you the fuck alone? “What? That buffoon? Guy who can’t even spell their own name right? That bastard isn’t worth a thought of a thought of a thought in your head. Pretty sure they haven’t had a thought in their own head since 1996.”

As soon as his first wide-toothed smile is won, he’s leaning into his partner with a secretive smirk: “Ya wanna get the fuck out of here?” 

Because distractions always helped him before. 

Will act especially gentlemanly, and theatrically play it up, while taking their partner for a frozen yogurt, antique shop, Target trip, public park, laser tag (yes, really) decompress. Bows when he opens the car door for them. Pays for everything. Calls them ‘your majesty’ for the entirety of the excursion.

All he wants is to get them to smile. And he’s not stopping until he sees it. 

When the night creeps in and his S/O starts to lose steam, Nathan’s own worry grows more obvious, though he tries his best to keep it to himself. 

Watches them with wide eyes. Gives them space, but still asks every few minutes if they need a cup of water. No? Tea? Arnold Palmer? Popsicle? Massage? Hot Pocket? Sexy pillow fight? However many it takes to make his partner laugh again. But he fully means every offer he gives.

Says nothing as he helps them undress and into their PJs. Touches are tender and intimate, gently rubs their shoulders and neck. Never too hard, never too direct. Plays the friendly ghost and lets their partner take the lead, but never, ever just sits around to watch.

Makes them a beverage of some sort, even if they say no. Hot lemonade with honey is his personal homecure. Says yellow is a happy color, so it must be good for you.

And right before they turn the lights out, Nate timidly offers— with a shy, trying chuckle— if they want him to read them a bedtime story. 

Somehow shocked every time they say yes. Mumbles something self-derogatory about himself (“Ya know, not the best actor, but—” “Personally I think I have the voice of a dying goose, but—”) before sitting on the nearest surface and cracking open a book.

If he’s still feeling a little awkward, will uneasily ask if they wanna hear what he’s been reading lately, and will do so if asked— but really wants to read the pirate storybooks his mother read to him and Sam when they were kids.

It always made him feel better when the world felt too big, too scary, too cruel. 

So he wants to share it with the person he loves. 

He wants to share everything with the person he loves.

And without even asking, goes to the medicine cabinet and brings them a tablet of whatever they need when the anxiety gets especially bad, and says “I know, it’s scary. But we’ve been through scary before, right?” with a kiss on the cheek as they swallow it down with a sip of lemonade.

Lingers, eyes down, and vaguely nods to nobody as he stands and walks to the door.

“Want me… uh, want me to keep reading to you?” But he offers before he can even get past the door frame. 

“Do you want me to want you to keep reading to me?” 

And the last thing he wants to see is his love, alone. The idea of them crying beneath the covers because they were too afraid to burden him with it, too afraid to be seen. Everything he felt he had to do when he was 6 and his mother “passed”, age 9, 10, 11, 12 after a black eye, the words that his brain told him wrong: spoken aloud by the playground bullies he feared he’d never be stronger than. 

But he knew they were wrong. The bullies were wrong. The ones in his brain. The ones in theirs.

“Yes.” He replies without missing a beat. 

And he makes sure to hold their hand in his free one until the second they fall asleep… and a few hours after, just to be safe.

The next morning they fucking better expect breakfast in bed— and he maybe, just maybe, might even be willing to spring for McDonald’s, if that’s what they want. As long as they promise to eat actual fruit after. And hell, maybe even a vegetable or two when he makes dinner that night. Did you know that eating right and exercise are actually primary solutions to poor mental health—? That’s what Dr. Dorian said— No, potatoes don’t count as a vegetable— no, especially not if it’s fried— NO, FRENCH FRIES DON’T COUNT, BABY—

Sam:

Sam takes a bit longer to warm up to discussing anxiety than Nathan does, mostly due to struggling so deeply with it on his own. It’s not like prisoners (or Shoreline guards) made the most comforting companions. 

The better he could keep secrets, the less he could reveal, the safer he’d be.

So it makes sense that it’s both his greatest strength and weakness when it comes to emotionally turbulent times. 

In his younger, more avoidant years, he’d be the first to leave the room, leave the building, hell, sometimes even leave the city after a particularly heavy cry or confrontation with his then-partner. Only to come back the next morning and act like nothing ever happened. 

But now, he doesn’t run. After prison, after Rafe, after Madagascar, all he wants is to be allowed to stay. To be wanted to stay by someone who loves him. 

Is happiest to just sit with you in the silence. His biggest skill is his ability to weather the storm. And whether you need to scream bloody murder, or need to sit and decompress and just fucking feel, but can’t do it alone, Sam’s there. Listening. 

Once you’re done talking, he takes one last, long drag of his cigarette, stubs it out onto the pavement, and asks simply: “So do you want solutions… or something else, sweet’art?” 

You can see in his eyes— darting less than solid, certain against your own— that he really means it, in every way that he was too afraid to when he was younger.

The wonderful and terrifying thing about having anxiety while Sam is there is that it’s a vulnerable experience for the both of you. He’s learning, discovering, trying right along with you. And he may not be able to lift you up so easily, but he’ll be able to sink into the dark places with you, and not be afraid to see what’s down there. 

And maybe seeing someone he loves so deeply, sees as so beautiful, so smart, so kind, so wonderful, so absolutely perfect to him feel the same ways he does about himself… maybe it makes him think that he’s not as terrible as his brain tells him, either. 

Helps you take action by letting himself (finally) not be the smart one: “When ya… get like this, what do you usually do first, sweet’art? Paint me a pit’chure.” Gives you complete control, and smiles softly when you wipe your tears and the logical, the archaeological mind awakens. Mimics unraveling an ancient map when you begin to explain, and you inadvertently hiccup out a laugh. 

At times, it’ll feel like he’s trying to run again, but when he stands up and walks across the room— he always returns. This time with your favorite of his jackets, the denim one that smells like him even though he just cleaned it, and drapes it protectively over your shoulders. Clasps his palm at the back of your neck and rubs out the knot he always finds there. Smiles toothy and wide when your words are broken up by sighs of relief. Only to be filled once again with silence, gazes meeting sweet and safe. 

“Remember Indonesia?” He offers with a smirk, despite your furrowed brow.

“I guess? What about—?” 

“I read the runes’ instructions and ran us in circles all around Bali, only to reread the transcript and realized I got three letters completely wrong. J—V—A. Java. It was goddamn Java the entire time.” 

“Your point being?” 

He smiles and shrugs. Trying. Maybe he’s wrong, a foreigner in some ancient, uncertain land, but he tries.

“Sometimes our brains are just wrong.” He tries for you. “That’s all.”

You sniffle, and he leans in to press a prickly kiss to your cheek. His jacket is still warm from the dryer, wafting with the residual sting of cigarette, Old Spice Captain, cheap mouthwash, even cheaper aftershave, and something else completely unnameable. 

And maybe some others would think the scent appalling, but it’s the strangeness, the specificity, and yes, the stank— everything that makes Sam him— that makes you love it. Love him. The depth. The difference. 

The pain, and what he chose to do with it. 

Another kiss, this time down your neck. This time, the sigh of relief is his own.

What he chose to change it into. 

“So… any chance sex therapy might be a thing?” He asks grinningly.

“Why don’t we find out, ‘sweet’art’?”

#uncharted #uncharted 4: a thief's end #nathan drake #sam drake #nathan drake x reader #sam drake x reader #happy christmas yall!!! #and for those are yall who struggle today. you arent alone #feel free to jump into my inbox and geek out with me #sometimes family is just someone you share blood with #and that's allowed to be it #shea out

[hvnnibvni]

Together Again | JJK *part 2*

Pairings: Jungkook/Reader

Genre: Mature themes. Romance. Angst. Arranged marriage AU. Childhood best friends to lovers AU.

Warnings: cheating, reader is a rope bunny (ALLEGEDLY), hard!dom JK, switch!reader, reader likes to be slutted out, drunken sex, unplanned pregnancy(this is in the end dw😅), cunnilingus, oral (both receiving), fighting (talk shit get hit) daddy!kink, praise!kink, dirty talk, spanking, hair pulling. Just all around nasty y’all.

Summary: After reader finds her long-term boyfriend in bed with their mutual friend. She moves back into her family home, but under one condition. She has to marry her childhood friend that has been arranged since their childhood. For a wedding gift they go to a mountainous getaway with a group of friends, reader is told that ex and mutual friend get invited, so reader and jk decide to pretend not to know each other to avoid any confusion or miscommunication.

Authors note: Heyyy~ how are you? Welcome back. I’m going to try to release once a day idk yet still trying to figure this app out 😭 I sound old asf bruh but we gone get through it lol. Anyways ENJOY BB🤍

——————————————————————

‘ Oh these bitches got me all the way fucked up’

“well I guess we could go back home for a while. Right my lovelies?” You ask your two afghan hounds, Cleo and Benji. You two babies you’d be damned if you’d let that piece of shit keep them. He can’t even keep himself.

As you drive home you think about what you’re going to say to you parents. You know they’re gonna be upset you left in the first place for someone who had ‘unknown origins’ but you never saw it that way. You really did love him, but you weren’t going to cry over a man. That just wasn’t in you. What would your mother say? You’d rather not think about what you father would say

when you pull up to the security gate the guard is surprised to see you, but none the less let’s you in and quickly gets in the phone. Most likely to tell your parents you were coming up no doubt. “Nothings changed,” you say to yourself as you drive through the landscape up to the manor. As you pull up to the mansion you see you mother running out to great you. “My baby! You’re home! I’ve missed you so much.” Your mother exclaimed as she kisses you all over your face. “Hey mama,” you laugh. “Where’s Dad?” You ask following her into the house. “Oh he’s up int the drawing room right now, he has a guess at the moment. Maybe it’s someone you might remember.” She says smirking to herself. “ I know that look mummy, who’s here?” “An old friends is all I’m going to say,” your mother had a cheeky look on her face when she said that. “Oh you’re up to something weird,” you say to her but ultimately you let it go.

“So are you going to tell you why you’ve come here all of a sudden after no contact for 5 years?” Your mother presses. “I doubt you don’t already know, I know you and daddy have been keeping tags on me since I left.” You answer her as she gives you an innocent face. “I do but I’d like to hear the story from you.” Your mother has been keeping tabs on you since you left, so she definitely knows the whole story. So you tell her everything. What they did and everything they’ve said about you. “Well good thing you didn’t have to deal with trivial matters like that anymore,” she says rolling her eyes at the thought of you ex. “What does that mean momma?” You ask catching the double meaning in her words. “It means you will have a chance to make things right for you and the family reputation.you know what we had to go though and cover up once you left.” She tells you low key reprimanding you at the same time.

*sigh* ”okay momma I’ll do whatever it takes to go back to being the head of the family, and kill those pieces of shit classily.” You tell your mom smirking. Your mom laughs at you change of mood, and leads you to the drawing room where you father is. You hear voices on the other side of the doors besides your fathers. Your mother open the door excited to show your father that you’re back home. When she does you dad looks like he expected to see you on the other side, while he looks at you but you’re focused on the man sitting across from him. “Jungkook,” You breathe out. “Hey y/n long no see,” he says with a breath taking smile. “ welcome home y/n we were actually just talking about you. Before we can accept you back we have one condition.” Your father explains to you. “And what is that daddy?” You ask already having an idea as you continue ti stare at Jungkook. Amazed at how much more mature he’s gotten.

“You have to agree to our previous arrangement, and marry Jungkook.” You father says not wasting anytime. Well at least he welcomed you back. You’d expected him to not speak to acknowledge your existence while you were there. “Okay. I’ll do it.” You rempli to your father watching him stand and make his way over to you. You weren’t expecting him to hug you, but he does. It’s the most loving hug you’ve ever received from you father. ”I’ve missed you babydoll,” he whispers kissing your forehead. “I’ve missed you too daddy,” you say hugging him back trying not to cry.

After a while your mother steps in “I’d hate to break up this touching moment, but we need to get y/n ready for tonight.” You look at her confused “what’s tonight?” “Your engagement party of course!” She says excitedly “why did I think I’d at least have a week to get settled in. You guys already had this planned out didn’t you? I bet you guys called the Jeon family as soon as you found out I was coming right?” You interrogate. Your father chuckles next to you as you look at you parents incredulously. “It was your fathers idea. I said we should wait at least a day.” You mother adds. “ of course it was,” you say as your father looks the other direction with a cheeky smile.

you turn to look at Jungkook who’s been unusually quiet. Watching the scene in front of him. “Were you in on this too?” You ask him looking past your parents. “I actually just found out the moment before you came in,” he responds with a small smile. “But I can say it’s been some of the best news I’ve gotten all week. I really missed you y/n.” He says scratching the nape of his neck. You and Jungkook have been arranged since childhood. He’s always had a crush on you, it broke his heart when you refused to marry him for someone else. But now that he has you he’s not going to let you go again. “I missed you too JK, you’ve grown up so much I barely even recognized you,” you say chuckling. “Yeah I know right. It’s crazy how much people can change over a short amount of time.” He says looking at you with a look you just couldn’t decipher.

Before you could respond you mother cuts in again “Ma fille, we really need to get you ready for tonight. Ah please take her bags up to her room and get her into the proper attire.” You mother asks the head maid. “Oh and burn whatever she’s wearing.” She points at your outfit , covering her face with a look of disgust. “Cheri what is this atrocity you’re wearing. It hurts to look at.” You were wearing white beach shorts, a stripped tee and a green cardigan. It’s not what you were used to wearing when you were home. But it was comfortable and made you stand out less. “Momma it’s not that bad,” you defend. “No babydoll your mothers right. That’s not something anyone in our family would wear, maybe if the cardigan wasn’t the same shade of puke it would pass as inside clothes. No scratch that no one would ever wear that in their entire lives.” You father adds looking slightly disgusted. You look at you parents shocked at them reading you to filth. Behind them you see Jungkook holding his laughter while covering his face. Before you could defend yourself further you’re already being ushered out of the room.

#bts jk #bts ff #btsedit #jung hoseok #kim najoon #kim soekjin #kim taehyung #park jimjn #bts army #jungkook x reader #bts x you #bts x reader #bts junkook #jungkook smut #jungkook ff #bts ffs #jeon jungkook ff #fanfic #cheating au #bts angst #childhood friends au

[hotpinkstars]

Can i have eula,kujou sara and navia reacting to their s/o who endured a lot and manages to rise from the ashes time and time again?

-> destruction, a vicious cycle

synopsis -> no matter what, you can never catch a break. being brought down, rebuilding yourself, and being brought down all over again is your cycle of life.

a/n -> my first official request yayyy!! ah i was so happy when i saw this in my inbox because i'm only creative when it comes to drawing i seriously cannot think of anymore prompts..... anyways everybody feel free to send some in fhajdkdkks they'll likely get done by same/next day!! sorry if this was misinterpreted i cannot focus on anything rn and it's been like this for the past few days

warnings -> mentions of injury, reader showing evident signs of wanting to give up, crying, mostly angst

w/c -> 1.3k

eula 

she gets that feeling. more or less better than anyone else you know would. considering her horrific past, she would wake up and go into the day blindly, not knowing what there is to come for the next string of long hours. she’s been rejected by monstadts people, by her own family. 

so when you express your feelings to her, she gets it. but she’ll still do her best to comfort you anyways. 

so, she started paying more attention to the things you do and the interactions you have with people.

the first time she witnessed something was when you had tried oh so hard to gain the trust of the acting grand master, jean, just for it to all crumble down due to a silly rumor that an immature guard decided to spread around the favonius headquarters. it had caused a lot of backlash on your part from the cities residents and from all of the knights and the vision holders that are affiliated with them. 

and then, once you regained her trust and worked day and night to get the residents on a good t with you, your family decided to shame you for no reason whatsoever, and bringing another issue you worked to fix for yourself into your life.

it felt rather draining, being unable to catch a break. one thing after another, one day at a time. life felt like a cycle to you at this point. 

whether you had a brutal injury in combat and had to work endlessly (or at least to what felt like it) to prove your strength to yourself and the world once more or simply had to regain trust, you were genuinely tired. 

so, eula tries to take the burden. at first, she tries to take in entirely, but you both knew that wouldn’t be possible. she wasn’t the one injured, or the one who was mere seconds from being roughly escorted out of the city. she couldn’t necessarily shoulder that without being the one in the position. 

but what she could do was allow you to cry and express your emotions to her when you’re in the safety of your own home. you both knew that she wouldn’t turn on you for your life cycle. she was the only person you felt you could genuinely trust at the time and you felt really grateful to have someone as wonderful as her. 

she’s been making it much easier for you to live now, and she’ll proceed to do so throughout the rest of the time the world gives you two. 

kujou sara

you understood she didn’t have much time to listen and understand what your life is like, and all of the traumatic and upsetting stories that go with your name. she’s constantly out, fulfilling her loyalty to the esteemed shogun and leading over the tenryou commission, and she doesn’t come back until late most nights, if she even does come back. you completely understand what she does and why it’s so important, and she always tries so hard to make you feel loved and that she has time for you. 

but you haven’t had that chat about yourself with her yet. and you don’t know when you will.

she first picks up on something being not right when you came home, trying so so hard to fight back tears and nearly failing. you excused yourself to the shower, allowing the tears to spill due to the water muting your cries. 

but she knew. she knew something was up, and she wanted to ask you about it, but at this very moment was one of the first times she thought she couldn’t make up the words to confront you. so when she does, it sounds more like a demand then a question. you both knew that it wasn’t supposed to sound that way.

once you told her, she nodded, getting up and making you some tea to try and soothe you. she didn’t try to pressure you into relaxation, or to tell you to be calm. because telling you that would be unfair. she’s not that way, so why should she force you to be? 

like eula, she’ll keep a close eye on you sometimes. the first time she witnessed what she had at first thought was your downfall, she tried to keep herself composed as you struggled to get the blade out of your stomach. 

it was one hell of a journey to get you back on your feet. not only was this weighing down on you, the thought of disappointing sara or being a burden to her (considering her 5 hour stays at the hospital nearly every single day) haunted you. corrupted your sleep, and corrupted your mind whenever she was helping you through your physical therapy work. 

once you were back on your feet, it seemed like another thing after another happened. you were asked so much out of the citizens of inazuma city, and even yelled at, until you snapped at one of them and it was the headline in the papers. even guuji yae looked into it. then again, you worked to build yourself up again.

no matter how vicious the cycle, you knew you always had sara there to support you. 

navia 

she wasn’t stupid, she knew something was upsetting you, but didn’t want to ask. since the loss of her father she’s learned certain ways to cope, and she just thought you were using your ways to cope, too. 

but she realized it was much more than that.

you two had heard rumors of someone going around and pickpocketing people, taking mora. so, considering she wanted to try and solve such a mystery, she asked you if you’d like to accompany her, and you agreed. 

the person who did it was a fontaine citizen who had been doing this for years to survive. the woman lived on the streets, occasionally stealing food from food stands when they came out, or threatening cafe owners into giving her what she wanted. 

considering the fact that she could be considered mental, she framed you. and you were the one who had to face the repercussions. 

thats when navia really started to realize that this wasn’t the first time something this horrible has happened to you, considering your reaction to the whole situation and how you brushed it off whenever she’d bring it up. you had a 4 month sentence in the fortress, and though it used to be something like 4 years, navia made a deal with wriothesley into shortening it due to false accusation. 

but once you got out of the prison, it seemed you couldn’t catch a break from tragedies. from things you didn’t even know you were doing to things people made up lies about, you felt that you constantly had to prove yourself to the people of the city, to prove that you weren’t a horrible person whose only interest is stealing peoples things and hurting others. 

navia would let you talk for as long as you possibly needed, listening extra hard when you mention some more disturbing topics that you barely got back up from, but managed to anyways. she understood the comparison when you mentioned how it feels like a never ending cycle of devastating events, and how you were tired of always being forced to be the bad guy in situations you didn’t even know were happening half of the time. 

she’ll settle your cries with a nice warm hug (if it gets to the point of crying) and makes sure she can help you in any way you need when another one of these incidents happen. she knows she’ll never be able to make it all go away, but she tries to at least make it less of a weight to carry around when you two are together.

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #eula #kujou #sara #kujou sara #navia #navia x reader #kujou x reader #kujou sara x reader #sara x reader #eula x reader

[unicyclehippo]

as a prompt: imogen and laudna and images of vex?

there are people sitting on the tempest’s bed when they return. keyleth’s skin is split and red and it’s awful to see except when you love her enough that pain means alive, means here enough to hurt.

these strangers love keyleth. they sit on her bed as people who are welcome to it, they hold her staff and she trusts them to take the place of her powerful artefact, to help her to her feet when she struggles to stand—scarred hands in scarred hands—and laudna considers the few of her own people who have carried her (dead) and carried her (alive) and offered a helping hand and knows keyleth loves them too.

it takes some minutes for laudna to realise they are not strangers at all.

‘lady vex’ahlia,’ imogen greets warily. and then, ‘lord de rollo.’

‘bells hells,’ lady vex’ahlia returns in much the same tone, wary as everyone is these days. her tone softens tremendously when she says laudna’s name, alone. laudna trembles. imogen takes her hand. lord de rollo looks at her too, too keen. then orym speaks, and keyleth, and there’s flowers and busy work as tinctures and healing begins and laudna mostly is thinking about the fact that they’re inside of a tree and how funny that is, really, because sometimes she turns treelike herself, and it’s a bit strange to be a dead woman inside a tree that’s inside a dead woman inside a tree.

she smiles, touches imogen’s elbow. ‘might we go outside, darling?’

orym glances over—the quickness of mental communique that laudna so admires, and misses, the crackle of imogen’s thoughts so bright and light and powerful—and he nods and there’s something in his gaze that makes laudna think she ought to say something, but fear is a starving rat eating her tongue, which is awful, isn’t it, because she can’t speak while it’s there but it’s better for everyone if she keeps her mouth shut so they don’t see the tongue and the rat and the cavern and the rat can’t get out and it can’t bite anyone but her and she doesn’t really need a tongue anyway she’s dead after all so why deal with the blood and pity when she could just eat the rat and be done with it. also, there’s a beautiful woman whose ears are uncut into points who is her reflection, brilliant life billowing out from her, sun-warm, and she’s watching her, and laudna thinks she might cry or perhaps scream if this woman gets a glimpse of laudna’s insides.

imogen loops their arms together. they walk outside like lovers do, beneath trees bejewelled with flowers and buds. the fabric of their dresses brush together as they walk. their hands do not part.

‘are you alright?’

laudna keeps her mouth closed. the rat is gone, she doesn’t think it was real, but she’s not sure about the state of her tongue.

imogen touches her own forehead, the circlet there. ‘do you ever think of her?’ she asks. ‘that lady?’ when laudna nods, imogen sighs. ‘i wish… i wish so much hadn’t happened to you. i wish it couldn’t hurt you anymore.’

‘if it’d never happened, we wouldn’t be here,’ pate says, crawling out from his house. he perches on the roof, balancing with paws against the faux-chimney—laudna knew it was ornament only because she’d taken pate’s eyes as her own and they’d clambered through the space together, small and secure, and pried into each expert corner until they were satisfied. ‘and then you wouldn’t get to explore wi’ her. an’ by explore—‘

‘don’t you finish that thought,’ laudna snaps.

‘—o’ course i mean explore her body,’ pate chortles. he has to launch into the sky when laudna tries to grab at him, palm full of dark lightning. ‘oh fuck! don’t - laudna!’

‘get back here! apologise to imogen!’

pate hides behind imogen, wings flapping, chortling. ‘won’t!’

‘you will! right now!’

‘won’t! can’t make me!’

‘i did make you, you - you - you little beast!’ she races around her - girlfriend? her imogen - who spins, laughing, keeping herself between laudna and pate.

they’re drawing eyes. who could possibly be laughing, loving out in the open? who could possibly dare draw the ire of the red, glaring moon? imogen catches laudna’s clawing hands in hers, holds her. pate crawls up purple hair, splays, exhausted, atop her head.

‘do you think she knows?’ laudna gives voice to her fear. ‘what i am? what i did?’

‘how could she?’

‘she could be watching. me. if she suspects, if he does… she did such terrible things to them, darling, and i am—i literally embody that for them.’ imogen is shaking her head but laudna doesn’t see it; sees the tree, and the de rollo’s, and the shadow of the blossom tree with its curling branches stretches out in front of the sinking sun like a grasping hand. ‘i’m afraid, imogen,’ she admits, mouth open, everything soft and bitten and hurting on full display. imogen looks right into her eyes, her mouth. she sees everything. nothing changes. imogen still holds her hands, still holds her close.

‘what are you afraid of? that they’ll try and hurt you?’ imogen shakes her head. ‘i won’t let them. we won’t. you’re not bad, laudna, and you’re not her.’

‘but she’s in here. she’s back, i did that—‘

‘did you ever think that you didn’t let her in? that she was waiting out there in the dark and when you were scared and hurt, she let herself back in?’ imogen reaches up. strokes the hair back from her face. which does nothing, because the wind is fierce and playful and endless here in zephrah. ‘you’re not to blame for the fact that she hurt you. and if they blame you for that,’ she says, tilting her head back to the tree, ‘they’re wrong.’

‘she hurt them too.’

‘i don’t care.’ she didn’t. laudna could see it. oh, she cared enough for them—hearing what had been done to whitestone and the family there was dreadful and imogen had a sweet heart—but the care was dwarfed, obliterated, by how she cared for laudna. it did not compare. how could it? what was as a single raindrop to the scorching desert, a handful of gravedirt to the mountain. what was sympathy to the way imogen loved her?

‘i don’t want to see her today,’ laudna says, and helps to tie back imogen’s hair with red string. ‘can it be as it was, once? the two of us?’

‘oí.’

‘three of us,’ she amends, and when imogen laughs, and kisses her—hidden from their friends behind the huts—laudna glances over to ruidis, smouldering on the horizon, and smiles. it would all be alright, eventually; after all, what was the red moon to the way she loves imogen?

#tagging my stories #prompt fill #cr fic #imodna my beloveds

[jkoo-njoo]

college crush - 4

summary : college au l when the frontier between a crush and an obsession blurs, how can you draw the line?

pairing : shy n clingy bf! jk × black fem! reader

genre : fluff, soft yandere | headcanons

word count : 3980, on going story

warnings : a bit angsty in the beginning with very harsh self-talk, description of self-neglect and implication of suicidal thoughts because Jungkook has low self-esteem

author's note : thank you so much @armydgirl for commenting “I need more of this” under the last chapter because it motivated me to finish this in like 2 days when I’ve been stuck on this for months. I’m really thankful for everyone who’s been reading this story so far ! There is one last chapter left. What do you think will happen ? (∩˃o˂∩) enjoy my loves and as always, all comments are well appreciated ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა ₊˚⊹♡

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4/ when imagination and reality combines, your dreams come true

- No-thing : there is no good or bad

The morning after you received the apology letter from your secret admirer, and now intruder, you were feeling pretty excited

It’s like their morbid obsession rubbed off on you and you were kind of starting to feel the same ? towards them ?

Was it ok though… to feel this way. You didn’t know

Anyways !

Even though it sounds like you are not making much sense, you’ve had a very fulfilling sleep actually

And it is now time to tackle the daily tasks your world awaits from you : attend classes, study and work

Before leaving you remember to put up the little surprise for your admirer

You already prepared the note in response to their apology letter the night before, so you just install it evidently in the middle of your main table with a glass of water

(you figured since you want them to clean your place they will be thirsty afterwards — hence the water)

Then you attended to your occupations

With an intrigued heart beating hard in your chest from anticipation, and a slight smile on your face

- Any-thing : signs follow, they do not precede

Because Jungkook didn’t have class this morning but he knew you did, he decided to pay you a visit

This visit is special : it is the first one in a few weeks, right after the apology letter

For some context…. it was not looking good for him. Like, he’s been going through a very tough period

When he took the hoodie with him on his last visit, he felt so proud of himself for having the courage to take a piece of you and bring it back to his home

He has never felt this euphoric

He would put the hoodie up to his nose and smell it to ingrain your body odor in his brain

He would wear it to bed and hug himself imagining it was you cuddling him with your arms circling around his waist and messaging his back to soothe him

The euphoria lasted a few days

He didn’t even go back to your place or send letters in the meantime like,,, he was fully satiated

Then your sent started to fade away progressively and he figured he needed to go back to your place

But he realized that… you were kind of actively using this hoodie. You must have noticed it was gone

What if you knew it was him ? What if you were hating him for stealing something from you ?

In his defense, it wasn’t exactly stealing because he planned on putting it back

He wanted to put his scent on it and give it back to you, so you could get intoxicated about him the same way he was about you

But his doubts and insecurities started eating him alive

“What if she thinks you stink ? She would never accept back a hoodie from a dirty man.”

“Scratch that : she would never accept the hoodie back from you at all, because she hates you.”

“You broke into her home so many times and stole from her. Don’t you think there’s consequences to your actions ?

“Karma exists and she’s out to get you”

“Don’t even think you have a chance with her anymore. I’m pretty sure she doesn’t love you and never will again.”

“Hell, I’m sure she forgot you since you don’t even send letters anymore.”

“You’re nothing but a fleeting bad memory, plaguing her brain.”

“Stay away from her, you monster.”

The mental self-harm was so harsh, he absolutly didn’t leave his room anymore

Not to study, not to work — not even to eat

He didn’t go to photography class anymore because he couldn’t even have the guts to face you after all this

He felt so so bad for so long

At some point, he was truly starting to decay and felt like he wanted to see you one last time before dying.

So, he showered for the first time in like a week

Dressed up in all black, popped on a large black bob

And went out, looking for you

It was something like 2 PM on a Wednesday

According to your schedule, you were supposed to be at the campus library studying a bit before your afternoon classes

And like clockwork, right after entering the library, he spotted you from afar

You were at the very end of the long hall, sitting alone with your books and your computer.

Your back was facing him so you couldn’t notice him staring at you with tears in his eyes

How could he let himself rot away when you were the light he needed in his life ?

How could he leave you this way when you needed him to protect, love and provide for you ?

It was inconceivable that he wasn’t taking care of you anymore, and that he even entertained the idea of never doing it ever again

He needed to bounce back immediately.

So, he sprinted back to his place,

Shuffled through his desk to grab a piece of paper and a pen,

And got to work.

He was still crying uncontrollably while trying to put his thoughts onto the paper

After 3 crappy letters and lots of crossed-out sentences, he figured he needed to calm down in order to properly deliver the best piece of literature ever

The one letter that could melt the heart of a statue and that will recover your relationship, without a doubt.

That’s when he came up with the apology letter you received.

Shortly after writing it, he decided on an express delivery to your place,

So you could read it and contemplate on his fate during the night or whatever

And while you do that, he would come the next day bearing gifts :

a brand new hoodie to replace the old one, a flower bouquet to decorate your house and give you a piece of himself and some of your favorite fruits to nourish your tummy and your soul

Their job was to make you realize that he was very serious about this relationship with you.

To remove any doubts about taking him back into your life

This was his plan, and to him it was infaillible.

Fast forward to today

There he was, in front of your door, with his arms full of gifts for you, and on the verge of throwing up and pissing himself on the spot

He waited there a good 10 minutes until someone across the corridor unlocked their door to come out of their room.

Since the last thing he wanted to do was get caught, he hurried inside your place.

He closed his eyes, and almost started to hyperventilate but he managed to calm himself down.

One — inhale… exhale

Two — inhale… exhale

Three — inhale….

On the exhale, he slowly opened his eyes and was greeted by the silence and stillness of your room.

He felt so at ease, so happy to be back — where he belongs.

After a few more seconds in contentment, he decided to install his things and get back out

But as he emptied his arms onto the table, he noticed you left a note on it

He wasn’t sure if it was for yourself or for him, so he took it out of pure curiosity

Upon reading it, his heart almost jumped out of his chest

It was your answer to the apology letter.

You responded to him !!!!

Oh my God.

You finally acknowledged him

AND you deliberately wanted him to alter your living space to clean and order your things

He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

This was a gift from God

He was so happy, he fell down on his knees and held the note right over his heart

After getting down from the high, he arranged his gifts onto your table and got to work.

He never cleaned a place this meticulously in his entire life

This was almost cathartic

Like he was cleaning his sins away and prepping for a squeaky clean new slate for your relationship to start again from

When he was done he felt very proud of himself and was so happy to have been able to tremendously help you for something you needed

He didn’t plan on writing anything because he didn’t expect you to answer to him ;

But since you did, and he executed your request, he took a piece of paper and one of your cute bullet pens to write back to you :

“I cleaned your whole entire place just as you asked, my princess. I will always do absolutely everything that you ever request from me, with immeasurable joy and love every single time. I can’t wait until I can permanently take care of you and provide for you at all times. I can’t wait until the day I can hold you close in my arms, look straight into your gorgeous sparkling irises and tell you that I live for you, for you are my entire life. I bought you a new hoodie as I promised. I also bought some beautiful scented flowers and your favorite fruits. Please accept all of this as a proof of my endless unconditional love for you. Take care of yourself my angel, and never forget that you are the light that guides me through darkness. If you ever need me again, I’ll always be right here. — your secret admirer”

He has to physically contain himself from taking anything before leaving

But it’s less difficult than last time, because he never felt so fulfilled in his entire life

He realized that he feels the most joyful and alive when he does things for you.

He is now convinced that he truly lives for you, and that you are promised to him.

After a long and exhausting day, you finally went home.

The excitement and curiosity was eating you alive.

Did they come today ? Did they notice the little note ? Did they clean the house ?

You were truly hoping that they did come, and that if they did, they didn’t ignore you, because that would be sad.

As you open the door, you immediately notice how your room smells fresh and fruity

A quick look around reveals that your room is very much clean, as if it had been ran over by a cleaning crew

But the most surprising thing is the pile of stuff on your table

There were : a new and very cool hoodie, apples raisins and peaches, and a large bouquet of flowers with a very sweet scent.

You were filled with glee and contentment

This is the confirmation that this really isn’t a prank by your friends, but that there is truly someone out there that is invested in you

That is so cute ?!

You are so caught up with all of these gifts and new realizations that you almost don’t notice the letter

A new letter from your secret admirer !!!

This is a gift from God

After reading it… you feel like crying.

Nobody ever made you feel this way. Nobody ever went out of their way to make sure that you were good, that you had everything you needed, that you were taking care of yourself.

To have someone you don’t even know care that much…. is something indescribable.

You couldn’t not develop some feelings back for them, even if you wanted to

They were becoming a constant presence in your life and you truly didn’t want it to stop.

This night, you both fell asleep under the same sky, and asking the same stars to reunite you, for you belonged together.

- Some-thing : flowers bloom, even in concrete

The next morning, Jungkook is going to the local cafe for his occasional dose of caffeine, when he sees something that makes him stop dead in his tracks.

You are walking around the campus, with the brand new hoodie he gave you just the day before.

You must have felt his eyes bore holes into your sides, because you turn around and look right into his eyes.

Realizing you’ve met eyes with the cute nerdy guy from photography class, you politely smile and wave your hand at him

Then, you keep going your way, oblivious about what you’ve caused

He could only instinctively wave back at you with a shy smile

He keeps staring at you walking with a bouncy and bright demeanor until you are out of sight

This whole encounter is so overwhelming to him that he has to rush to the nearest campus toilet

He just saw the literal [love of his life] walk around outside with something he choose specifically for her and smile at him.

You were accepting and proudly using his gifts for you. His proof of his love for you.

It is the absolute and ultimate proof that you are also totally in love with him

He could not contain his emotions even if he tried to. It was too much

So, he locks himself inside a toilet to hide his boner and cry from joy

He is as hard as he is happy. This is everything to him.

Literally all of his dreams are coming true.

So, he decides that from now on, he’ll send you more gifts and love letters than ever

Because he just cannot get over the fact that he can send you stuff and you will just… use them ??

Absolutely crazy and groundbreaking.

The next few weeks, on top of following you everywhere and taking pictures of you, he started stalking you on social media

If he felt like a pretty discrete and laid back admirer before, he definitely feels like a total stalker now

But he isn’t a creep, and you’re receptive to his moves. So it’s not bad, right ?

Anyways

He was mainly in search of a potential wishlist you posted or some posts where you expressed your interest in something

He has bookmarked almost all your “I want this 😖” & “I wish 😿” tweets

Each time he would find a post of you wanting anything, ranging from :

New clothes or cute jewelry to plushies plants and books,

He would buy it and deliver it to your place with an affirming love note attached

Saying stuff like :

“you deserve everything that you ever want and need my love”

or :

“as long as I’m alive, rest easy and know that you will always be taken care of”

But, he also had his own wishlist of stuff he wanted to offer to you

Recently, he bought a cute platted skirt that would would perfectly hug your waist and make your legs stand out — in his opinion — just because he thought it would fit your style

(and it did)

He had tons of carts scattered everywhere on the internet, even on lingerie websites,

Not because he wanted to see you in them but because he wanted you to feel good, comfortable and valued in your own body

Ok he’s obsessed with you but. He’s still an asexual

Talking about that, he is not worried about his sexuality, in fact he is so grateful he fell for you because your were so open and accepting

He overheard you talking about never feeling like anyone would love you just for you, and being scared of being used for your body and never finding true love

That there are multiple ways to love others, and that a relationship shouldn’t revolve around sex

He knew that he had all of his chances and he was the absolute best candidate that met all your standards and that could please and fulfill you in the right way.

Also, he doubled the amount of time he spent at your place

(behind your back, as always)

With each visit, he brings your favorite fruits and sometimes restocks your fridge and cupboards if he sees you’re running out of everything

How does he even manage to finance this lifestyle, you ask ?

Well, do you remember: he is a talented photographer.

He was booked and busy before, but retired when he started college due to lack of time and the loss of all the passion and drive necessary to keep up that kind of side hustle

Now that his passion and drive was back — all thanks to you — He started selling his services as a photographer and as a video editor again.

And he was making bank !

You are such a blessing in his life, he will never be thankful enough for your existence.

You were creating all these opportunities for his to grow as a person and improve his life, it was crazy how he changed so much in so little time.

And to recap the state of The Plan ™️ : he’s making Big Moves.

He was slowly but steadily becoming a known and stable occurrence in your life

Half of the plushies you owned were bought by him.

Some of the coolest clothes and shoes and jewelry : bought by him.

The books that you were obsessed about recently ? You guessed it, bought by him.

Even the only pieces of lingerie you had were bought by him.

He was nourishing your body and nurturing your heart.

Seeing you walk around campus proudly while constantly wearing the very outfits Jungkook once daydreamed about has been an insane experience

Knowing that you were eating the food he bought for you and consuming the letters he kept writing and gifting to you….

(he still checked your bins regularly to make sure you were still accepting him)

It made him feel immense pride and contentment.

He was at his peak in terms of interaction in his life right now.

He never made it this far in a relationship

And he knew he wanted more ; but he didn’t want to burn his wings by flying too high too fast.

He knew that patience was key

And he was right because eventually, you were the one to cross the bridge.

- Every-thing : no matter what happens, the universe expands and time flows

One day, you left a note asking for the number of your secret admirer.

It was random, truly, because you usually never answer to their letters directly.

Sure, you would stick a post-it sometimes suggesting a new type of fruit for them to bring to your place for you to try

Or expressing appreciation for an item they bought you recently and that you really enjoy

But it was still very scattered and anecdotical

So much that Jungkook cherished each and every note of yours in a special binder — and if he could frame them he would.

All that to say : that day was different.

You felt it in the air

It’s been 3 months now since the secret admirer thing has started to be pretty serious… with the admiration.

But at this point, you wanted more.

Did you want attention ? distraction ?… love ?

You couldn’t pinpoint a specific need, and you didn’t know exactly what were your motivations ; but you knew something was missing.

Also you needed an answer to your never ending questions

Who are they ? What are they passionate about ? How do they envision their future ?

…Why you ?

Interrogations and curiosity bubbled in your mind like a bottle of sparkling water

You pondered for quite some time about the way you would go to reach your goal

Should you :

ask them to take you on a date, or

invite them over for dinner at your place, or

go to the cinemas with them, or

have a picnic in a park with them, or…..??

The thing is : every option seemed dangerous, especially because you actually didn’t know a single thing about them

Sure, as of now they’ve never attempted to hurt you and they claim to love you much more than life itself

But. You weren’t reckless nonetheless and you’ve watched too much true crime documentaries to even entertain these ideas

So you settled on a post-it note with “can I have the number of my secret admirer, so I can admire them too ?” written on it

Simple is king !

You went to sleep that night with a knot in your stomach and your heart beating loud in your chest as if it were the day before a final exem

The next day, Jungkook entered your place bearing gifts as always without expecting a thing

While checking around as usual, he noticed the post-it on the door of your fridge asking for his number

… Huh ?!

He literally froze in disbelief and read it over and over again to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating.

How come you were asking for his number. His. number.

The plan was working like a charm in such a way that he would’ve never expected in a million years

This was so much more than what he could’ve ever asked for

He did try to think about how to make a move to get closer to you ; but he didn’t feel ready yet and wanted to wait more

And now, you’re the one who decided to take matters into your own hands and accelerate everything

It was absolutely crazy

You. wanted. HIM.

Well… not really exactly him

In fact, he noticed you used non-gendered pronouns to address him and realized that you barely knew anything about him

Progressively, he got down from his high and he wiped the tears that fell from his eyes unbeknownst to him

He did want to give you his number, but… the group project in photography class was coming sooner or later and he didn’t want you to connect the dots just yet

He decided to buy a new SIM card from which he will text you

So, he wrote you back immediatly, telling you to wait for him to be ready for you and that he’ll give it to you soon.

A few days later, he came back and instead of delivering the usual LLOTD [love letter of the day] he wrote a note specifically to answer the number question

"Looking at the crescent moon, I see your face in its bright pure aura. Knowing that eventually its going to become a full moon lighting up the sky during the night, like your beautiful face lights up my life each time I look at you, makes me realize I love looking forward to the future only when I know you're going to be in it."

At the end of the poem, he wrote his special number with a heart next to his usual "— your secret admirer" signature

He went back to his place being very much full of glee, and eager to get a response from you.

When you got home from class, you saw his note and your belly immediately filled up with butterflies

Finally, it was time.

Seeing your emotional reaction to their answer you knew you did the right thing

You were going to get your answers to the many questions you've been asking yourself

But, more importantly, you were going to get closer to them.

You pondered for a long time before decinding on what to text them

You wanted to try and write a poem for them too but you felt like you couldn't match their skill and profoundence of their words just yet

You settled on :

"Hey ^^ this is [y/n]. Thank you for giving me your number ! I can't wait to get to know more about you"

Little did you know that… the best was yet to come.

#lufy’s fics ♤ #thebtswritersclub #college crush update #jungkook headcanons #bts x black reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fic #jungkook fluff #jungkook soft yandere #bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts imagines #jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #bts x you #bts x poc reader

[l0serloki]

Dangers

Val Agents reacting to their S/O in danger!

(Chamber, Sova, Fade, Reyna)

CW : GN!Reader, Death & Killing, Battle anxiety, cussing

Chamber : 

This man has EVERYTHING calculated. Even the risk of you getting hurt! 

You are struggling with a double on your back? No issue. You’re drained of your abilities? No problem, Chamber still has his!

He will always keep an eye on you. One word and he’s got your back. 

He dotes on you after, making sure you’re okay! If you need anything he is more than willing to get it. He knows how it feels to have a shitty mission.

“My love, let’s watch out? We should plan next time for you to have more backup.”

You struggled as the KAYO knife hit you. You knew that if you peeked the corner he would end you. You had no abilities and no place to turn. This mission was a failure.. Or so you thought. Taking a last deep breath, you jumped across the chokehold. The KAYO’s bullet grazed your cheek, drawing blood. The loud noise of a gun shot, KAYO falling to the ground. 

Turning, you met eyes with Chamber. He was further away, set up in his nest. You released the anxious breath you were holding, glad that your boyfriend took notice of the predicament. His suave voice came through the comms.

 “My love, let’s try to avoid that situation. We will plan ahead next time.”

You snorted, expecting such a response.

“No, darling. I just love being on the verge of death! It’s my favorite thing.” Sarcasm dripped off your tongue as you took KAYO’s gun, suiting up for the next battle. You knew Vincent always had your back.. And for that you were grateful.

Sova : 

Sova ALWAYS worries. He will never admit this though!

“My dove, I have your back. They will not take my happiness.” 

One scream and he has a shock dart flying to your location. If you are hurt then the enemy is in for it.

Sova has one hand on you all the way back to base. It calms his heart to know you are still with him.

“Don’t leave me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Please! Help!” You screamed into your comms, hoping one of your allies was near. The enemy Reyna was closing in on you. It was mere seconds before she turned this corner and ended your life. 

“They’re approaching! I can’t defend this myself.” You whispered, coming to terms with the situation. You were not excited for the Sage rez coming in your future.

“Calm down. I am on my way. Stay exactly where you are.” Your boyfriends voice cut through, out of breath from running.

“Sova, I don’t think I have that time-” You started until Reyna peeked the corner. You began shooting and then it hit. A dart falling from the sky landed on her body, ending the battle. There was no way he was that good of a shot.. Right?

“Holy shit, Sova. You did it.” You shook out, running to another corner. Sova’s figure appeared and gave you a light kiss before getting back to work.

“They will not take my star. You bring me so much light. Let’s keep the momentum going.”

Fade : 

If you are in trouble.. The enemies are screwed.

She will release any and all her nightmares in attempts to get you back.

Once you are safe she will just hold you. She already has dreams about losing you.. Best not to make them a reality!

The rest of the day she is angry. Not at you though! Just at others who think they could EVER put a hand on what’s hers.

“Let’s get you home. I’m not looking to rack up anymore deaths for the day.”

You struggled, body tired from running. The whole team was on your ass and your comms were broken. There was no easy way around this. You kept screaming as you made your way through site, praying that someone would come to the rescue. 

“Please! Fade, Sage? Where are you?!” Your yells fell on deaft ears, body turning to shoot at Raze. There was no time to wait for your allies. You sprayed down the halls and got behind cover. 

The ground began to change tones, and a voice echoed across the building.

“Nightmare, take them!” 

Your eyes widened. Fade heard your calls! You jumped into action, taking advantage of your deafened enemies. You shot them down with ease and finally relaxed. Thank god for Fade.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes. Let’s get you home, yeah?” Hazal’s arms wrapped around your torso, pulling you in for a hug. You could only hum in response, glad for that to be over.

Reyna : 

PLEASE.

We all know Reyna will lose control if you need help. Her baby is in danger? No worries, she will take every soul in the room.

She activates empress and zooms through the enemies. All you can hear is cackling and the sound of bodies hitting the floor.

Before you know it you’re being carried. Reyna threw you over her shoulder and she’s mumbling insults in Spanish.

Once you two are on the way home she will clean up your wounds! Either she will bandage you up and give you small kisses or get Sage to heal you. She’s also very demanding on you not moving a muscle. You were so hurt! 

“If they think they will get past me.. Ahaha. The queen will never die.”

“Fucks sake. Get off me!” You screeched, pushing another corpse off you. They seemed to endlessly push you. It was more than tiring and somehow your team was still dealing with ONE enemy on another site.

“Guys, really?I need back up. I have four on me and you can’t kill Neon?” You groaned, more shots firing at your location. You shot back, throwing your last utility in hopes of slowing them down. You had taken a bullet to the leg, the battle looking not too hot.

“How dare they! Don’t worry dear, I’ve arrived.” Reyna’s voice spoke up as she ascended from the tower. She looked you over and shook her head, empress activating. Her warm hand patted your cheek, lips leaving a light kiss.

“Leave this to me. They have no chance against the Queen.”

You could only watch in horror as your girlfriend went in, ending the battle swiftly. You had to agree - they really didn’t stand a chance.

#valorant chamber #chamber x reader #chamber valorant #chamber fluff #chamber #chamber x reader fluff #vincent fabron #fade x reader #fade #valorant fanfiction #hazal eyletmez #fade x you #fade imagines #fade valorant #chamber imagines #chamber x you #sova x you #sova valorant #sova x reader #sova #valorant sova #sova x reader fluff #reyna x reader fluff #reyna valorant #reyna x you #reyna x reader #valorant imagines #zyanya mondragón #sasha novikov

[daisilynn]

Sorry if this has been asked before, I'm a newer follower but-

I've noticed you do both digital art and traditional art. All your work is amazing, but I have to know how you get your traditional drawings so, like, crisp looking?? What materials do you use?

HI THANK YOU SO MUCH!! I’m not the best at answering questions, so I hope this helps!

For coloring, I use ohuhu alchohol markers, specifically the 48 pack. I just got mine off of Amazon lol

For the line art I use Tombow Fudenosuke calligraphy pens! You can order a 6 pack on Amazon for $14 or just a 2 pack for $5. I just have the 2 pack from Michaels (or I saw they sell it at Walmart as well!) they’re also waterproof, so if you let them dry long enough on paper, there won’t be a problem with smudging! :] they’re also super flexible and reaaally good for line width

For paper, I use the Strathmore marker paper! It’s super smooth and you don’t have to worry about ink bleeding through ^-^

You can also use mixed medium paper as well, like those super thick sketch books. that’s what I used for my Sans and Papyrus traditional drawing, but watch out for bleeding :o

I hope this answered some of your questions! Feel free and ask anymore if you’d like! :o

[camels-pen]

a gift (not a burden)

summary:

Usopp knows who his soulmate is, but he doesn't want to follow some bullshit rules of fate etched into his skin.

Meanwhile, Sanji's a hopeless romantic.

—

second gift exchange fic! this is also for @redriotinggg & i've got some extra notes about their soulmarks i'm probably gonna share at some point

warning: internalized homophobia

Ao3 Link | Chapter 2

Chapter 1: I love you, my friend

“Soulmarks: a way of finding your perfect romantic match. Depending on where it’s placed, the meaning changes—”

“So?” Usopp said, colouring the mane of his fish-lion drawing.

“So,”—Ms. Okra ripped the paper away and he made a noise of protest—“yours is very important, Usopp.”

Usopp sighed, slumping forward on the table. Ms. Okra kept talking about more dumb soulmate facts while Usopp tried to remember her real name. She always bragged that she got the nickname ‘Ms. Okra’ because she sold the best okra in the village, but Usopp’s heard the other adults make fun of her hairdo plenty of times to know the truth.

“Are you even listening?!”

Usopp groaned. “Who cares about soulmates?”

“This is serious, Usopp,” she said, wagging a finger at him. “You have to make sure to find yours soon—”

“Because you don’t wanna come up the hill anymore?”

Ms. Okra stuttered, “Well—I—”

“I didn’t ask you to babysit me,” he grumbled, rolling his broken crayon across the table. “I was doing just fine before the mayor made you guys check up on me. I’m 7 and a half; I’m basically an adult!”

Ms. Okra rolled her eyes. “I’m just saying, you could stand to make a few friends. There are some nice boys and girls who visit on passing ships sometimes—”

Usopp blew raspberries. “You just wanna get rid o’ me. Prolly to steal all the legendary gold I’ve got hidden away.” He grinned. “Did I ever tell you? I went to a famous island made of cheese and—”

“Son of a pirate, indeed,” she whispered, rubbing the bridge of her nose. It sounded like any other curse she’d yelled at him from her shop window.

Usopp gripped his crayon tightly. “He’s gonna come back.” He glared at her. “And he’s not gonna be happy when I tell him what you said.”

“Oh please, if that coward was going to come back, he would’ve done it before Banchina—”

Usopp snatched his drawing and ran out the door. 

“Usopp! Usopp, get back here; we haven’t finished the lesson!” Ms. Okra shouted. “What would your mother say?!”

His mom would be proud of him for sticking up for himself and his dad. And she wouldn’t be so pushy about soulmates. Her mark was in the same spot as Usopp’s, after all, and look what happened.

Usopp spent the night holed up in a cave by the beach, his fish-lion crushed to his chest. The breeze whistled a lonely tune through the stone and sand. He buried his face in his knees and tried to ignore it.

—

Vinsmokes aren’t supposed to get soulmarks, his father sneered.

It’s like an ugly tattoo, his brothers jeered.

Make sure no one sees it, Reiju warned.

“Sanji,” his mother said, a warm look in her eyes, “it’s beautiful.”

“Really?” he asked, curled up next to her in bed. “Everyone else hates it.”

“Really, baby.” She tucked a stray hair behind his ear. “Don’t worry about everyone else; how does it make you feel?”

“Hmm.” Sanji traced each line of his mark with his finger. He smiled. “It makes me feel really warm and good! Like when I eat soup!”

His mom pressed a kiss to his temple and he giggled. “Then, mon chouchou, that’s all that matters.”

“But—But what if they don’t like me, maman?” He sniffled, tears welling up in his eyes. “I’m really bad at everything and I’m whiny and—”

His mom shushed him and pulled him closer. “Don’t listen to Judge and your brothers, okay? You are perfect just as you are. Your soulmate is going to love you.”

“Can you come with me when I meet them?” Sanji hastily added, “W-When you get better, I mean! And—And when I’m older and not as much of a baby!”

His mom took a sharp breath. She buried her face in his hair, the sheets rustling as she tugged him to her chest. “Of course, mon coeur,” she said, her voice sounding odd and muffled. “I’d love to be with you when you meet them.”

—

Usopp’s soulmark was a tiny little thing. Blue waves and a chef’s hat with a spiral pattern all inside a glass bottle. It was barely the size of his fingernail.

Mrs. Barb’s soulmark stretched across her whole back. A big green boar with curly white tusks and yellow flowers for eyes. Mrs. Barb’s tanktop couldn’t even cover it all.

“Rue!” Ms. Okra yelled, her voice easily louder than the sound of Mrs. Barb’s hammering. “You better not be fixing the display stand when I told you to rest!”

“Nope! No fixing here!” Ms. Okra stomped down the street as Mrs. Barb hastily put away her tools and kicked the box under the porch. She and Mrs. Barb whispered something to each other. Mrs. Barb said something that made Ms. Okra burst into laughter and smack her shoulder. Mrs. Barb put an arm around her waist and leaned in to kiss her cheek.

“Don’t get too close, Captain, or they might spot you.” Pepper pulled on the back of  Usopp’s shirt. “C’mon, let’s find Onion and Carrot, they’re still hiding!”

“R-Right! I was just trying to test my limits today.” He grinned. “Gotta practice my famous stealth techniques or I might get rusty!” 

“But I found you first…?” Pepper said, confused.

Usopp turned Pepper around and ushered him further down the alley towards the mouth of the forest. “Of course, of course, but that’s just because I was going easy on you, just wait until next time when I—”

—

“I almost had it!”

“Sure you did, kid!” Patty laughed around the cigarette in his mouth. “Maybe next time you’ll hit the target!” He laughed again, slapping the railing.

Sanji whirled on him. “Fuck off!”

“Hey! Watch your fucking language!”

“You need to bend your knees more,” Zeff called from the kitchen, his voice drifting out from the open door.

“You didn’t even see it!” Sanji yelled back.

“Didn’t have to. I could hear your dainty little steps from here.”

“They aren’t dainty.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

Sanji scoffed. “Whatever.” He swiped Patty’s cigarette and ran back inside, giggling while the man chased after him.

“Give that back you brat!” Patty knocked into a rolling cart piled with dirty plates. Carne scrambled to catch them with a curse. 

“Patty!” Zeff shouted. “Quit fucking around and harassing the Eggplant. Either finish your shitty break or get to work!”

“Ugh, dad to the rescue.”

Sanji flushed. “He’s—I mean—he’s okay, but he’s still just a shitty geezer.” There was a smarting pain to his head and Sanji squatted down with a hiss. “What’d you kick me for?!”

“I may be a geezer, but I ain’t shitty.” There was another thud, followed by a deeper hiss. Louder, Zeff said, “And I ain’t your dad, Patty, so get to fucking work.”

“Aye aye, Owner Zeff,” he grumbled.

With the sound of running water, Sanji looked up. Patty was at the sink, washing dishes and sporting a lump on top of his head. He snickered quietly to himself and took a celebratory drag of his stolen prize.

“You gotta stop picking fights like that,” Carne said, frowning down at Sanji. “Also, quit smoking. It’s bad for you.”

“Everybody else does it!”

Carne took the cigarette from Sanji and held it out of reach. “Well, you’re not everybody else, are you?”

“Hey!”

“Sanji, let it go.”

“But Pére!” Sanji whined.

Silence.

Carne had a hand over his mouth. Patty’s shoulders were shaking.

“What?” Sanji said, shoulders rising. “Don’t laugh! You guys said it earlier!”

Before he realized, Zeff leaned down and scooped him into a hug. Sanji stiffened. “W-What the hell are you doing, shitty geezer?”

“Nothing special.” He paused a moment. Sanji grew more tense with each passing second. “Thank you, mon fils.”

Sanji gasped. “You—what—when—?!”

“I wanted to read books from the North, so I learned,” he said. It sounded like that time he told Sanji he’d grow watermelons in his stomach if he ate the seeds. Zeff gave him a hard pat on the back and went back to cooking like nothing had happened.

“When you meet your soulmate, you better bring her ‘round to meet all of us, okay?” Carne said, wiping his eyes. Patty was trying and failing to subtly wipe his nose on his sleeve. “You can’t just run off without telling us!”

“As if I could ever run off.” Sanji leaned back against the counter, trying for smug, but ending up with a wobbly smile. “You guys would never survive without me.”

—

“Alright Zoro, hit me!”

Zoro wound up and punched Luffy in the face. Luffy bounced all across the deck, knocking over anything that wasn’t tied down until he ended up tangled in the railing. 

“Wow, seven bounces; that’s a new record!” Usopp said. “I need to step up my game.” 

“Hey bastards, you’re disturbing Nami!” Sanji shouted, bursting out of the galley.

“Sanji! When’s lunch?” 

“We just had breakfast.”

“And?” 

“And if I let you eat whenever you wanted you’d clear out every speck of food we have!”

Luffy whined. “But lunch is so far away. A little snack wouldn’t hurt.”

“Listen here you shitty rubberman—” Sanji picked Luffy up by the front of his vest. Anything else he said after that was completely lost to Usopp as he got a good look at his wrist.

Now, Sanji had been sailing with them for a couple weeks at this point, and he didn’t particularly put any effort in hiding the obvious mark stretching along the width of his wrist. Usopp could’ve probably named the basic colours and shapes of it based on the glimpses he’d seen. So really, it was no surprise that there was a yellow-orange target with a brown eye in the centre, framed by a green slingshot. 

What surprised him was the fact that it was only now, after seeing the whole picture at once, did he recognize that slingshot.

Holy fuck, Sanji was his soulmate!

Holy fuck, Sanji was his soulmate.

Mr. if-I-don’t-flirt-with-every-woman-around-I’ll-die was Usopp’s soulmate. Dear god.

What was he supposed to do with that? It was proper etiquette to make the soulmate bond known once one person had figured it out, but…

“Radiant Nami, would you like a refill of your tea?” 

“I picked some flowers just for you, my love!” 

“You’re the only girl for me, Nami baby!”

Well, what did Ms. Okra know anyway? She was wrong about a lot of things and all that soulmark junk was stupid anyway. Usopp’s curiousity had been sated, Sanji could keep flirting with girls guilt-free—it was a win-win!

And besides, compared to Sanji’s, Usopp’s soulmark was—fuck, he felt like crying.

“At least have the decency to wait a couple hours before asking for a snack!” Sanji growled, shaking Luffy and unintentionally bringing Usopp out of his head. Luffy simply laughed.

Usopp took a breath. He clenched his fists tight before letting them fall limp. “Hey, Sanji, you mind letting us have Luffy back? We were kinda in the middle of something.” He carefully kept his gaze away from Sanji’s wrist.

“Sure just give me a second, I need to beat some sense into this shitty captain of ours.”

“Give it up,” Zoro said. “That’s impossible with your puny kicks.”

“Puny?!” Sanji let go of Luffy and jumped the railing, butting heads with Zoro. “I’ll show you puny you third-rate swordsman!”

The force of Sanji letting go sent Luffy snapping back through the railing and around the deck before eventually flying through the galley door. There was a crashing noise and Nami screeched, followed closely by Luffy’s apologies between laughter.

“Eight bounces,” Usopp mumbled to himself.

Zoro and Sanji were fighting, Sanji’s sleeves riding up as he twisted around. 

Usopp quietly made his way below deck to the boys’ dorm, wedged himself in one of the corners, and buried his head in his knees with a groan.

—

“How come you’re so…” Nami waved a hand.

“You just gestured to all of me, my dear.”

“I mean, you flirt with pretty much any lady you meet.”

Sanji nodded frantically. “Of course! I can’t just let a lady go about her day without complimenting her!”

“Right.” Nami tapped the edge of her teacup. “Now, I don’t want to be rude, Sanji, but it really seems like you don’t care much about soulmates.”

“Ah, so that’s what this is about.” He smiled. “It’s the opposite, actually. And a little silly, I suppose, but when I was a kid, I didn’t want to miss the chance that one of the customers might be my soulmate. Some only visited the restaurant a few times a year and others only came once while passing through on their travels.”

“So you… decided to flirt with every woman who visited?”

Sanji’s cheeks warmed. “Well, yes, in a sense.” 

Nami raised an eyebrow. “What’s there to be embarrassed about? You certainly don’t have any shame about it now.”

He coughed into his hand. “I… started doing it rather young. And I hadn’t really been able to discern which customers were with their soulmates or otherwise in relationships already.”

Nami laughed. “Aww, Sanji, that’s so cute. I wish I could’ve seen that.”

“Trust me you really, really don’t,” he said, refilling her tea.

She took a sip and let out a satisfied sigh. The galley was silent for a long moment.

“If…” Nami paused. “If you’re waiting for your soulmate, then does that mean you know who they are?”

Sanji shook his head. “Nope, I’m just as much in the dark about her as you are with yours.”

Nami touched a finger to the spot just under her ear, a light blue heart outlining a well-loved crown atop a sandcastle, a single peacock’s feather sticking out of it. Sanji had never seen that style of crown before—none of them had—but then, that wasn’t uncommon when it came to soulmates from different places.

“Sanji,” Nami said softly, her eyes drawn to the table. “You really don’t recognize it?”

Sanji tilted his head. “No, not at all.”

Nami sighed again, this one more tired than satisfied. “Maybe we should get your eyes checked before we cross the Red Line.”

Sanji made a noise of confusion, but Nami refused to elaborate. When she asked about lunch plans, it didn’t take long for him to forget all about it.

—

Bath times were… harrowing to say the least. The guys didn’t have to wash up at the same time, but Luffy—and now Chopper, too—needed a buddy so he didn’t slip under the water and drown. Zoro needed a little persuading sometimes, which was always easiest with company around, and Nami forbade Usopp and Luffy from taking baths on their own, on account of wasting all the hot water messing around. Ever at Nami’s beck and call, Sanji would join bath time to keep order, followed by Chopper who came more for the comradery than anything.  

It wasn’t too hard for Usopp to hide his mark before. It was far smaller than his hand so he could easily cover it with a well placed towel or carrying Luffy to the tub in a particular way. Before, it was out of embarrassment of the size, but ever since recognizing his own mark on Sanji’s wrist, things had become a lot more stressful.

“Alright you idiots,”—Sanji clapped his hands and everyone turned to him—“Nami dearest is still recovering so we’re gonna get this done in no time and leave her, and our precious Vivi, plenty of hot water to soak in.”

Usopp kept one hand on his towel, saluting Sanji with the other. “Aye aye, bath captain!” Chopper and Carue rushed to mimic him, determined looks on their faces.

“But guys, I’m the captain…” Luffy said, pouting.

“Yes, but Sanji’s the bath captain. That means he’s no fun—”

“Watch it, Longnose.”

“Don’t forget afraid of a little dirt,” Zoro piped up from across the room, already having washed himself off and sitting in the back of the tub.

“Wow, I’m impressed,” Sanji said, brow raised. “You actually used your brain for once and insulted me when I won’t fight back. Maybe your head isn’t full of algae.” He smirked. “Though I guess it’s expected that you’re afraid of retaliation.”

“Who’s afraid?!” Zoro yelled, jumping to his feet. “You wanna go, Curly?”

Sanji wagged a finger. “Ah ah ah, what’s the rule?” 

He turned to Usopp and Luffy who both said, in a bored tone, “No fighting in the bath.”

“That’s right.” He started to unbutton his shirt as he added, “So finish up first and I’ll kick your ass later.”

Zoro sat himself back down, mumbling, “I’ll kick your ass later.”

If Sanji heard him, he didn’t show it, and man was Usopp glad for it. The days Sanji wasn’t just tearing out of his clothes as fast as possible to try and splash Zoro were always a treasure. Watching him leisurely expose the skin of his belly, a fine black happy trail dragging Usopp’s eyes down down down, just as he started to unbutton his pants—

“Usopp, hurry up!” He startled at Luffy’s voice, only just realizing he was still wearing his boxers. He quickly shoved them off and grabbed another towel for his waist before dumping a basin of water over Luffy’s head, clearing the suds all over him. Luffy gave a cheer and jumped into the bath, soaking Zoro completely. 

Ugh, what was Usopp doing? He couldn’t just check out Sanji like that! They were friends, crewmates! And Sanji didn’t even like guys, so it wasn’t like there was any chance. Besides, soulmarks didn’t really mean anything: you could be smitten lovers or barely acquaintences just like a relationship with any other person.

Yeah. Yeah! Usopp was probably just… going sea crazy. That’s a thing, right? Where being at sea so long makes you… fall in love with your best friend. Ugh.

“Sorry—I said I’m sorry, Zoro!” Luffy said as Zoro shook him back and forth. “I won’t do it again!”

“Won’t do it again my ass,” Regardless, Zoro let him slip from his grip and flop against the edge of the tub. 

“Usopp! Me too, me too!” Chopper said, covered in soap and holding out the basin. 

“Of course! The great Captain Usopp would never leave you hanging!” Usopp shifted in his stool. “Close your eyes and hold your breath.” Chopper did as instructed and Usopp poured the basin over him, slower than he did for Luffy. 

Chopper shook from head to toe, sending water flying everywhere. Usopp made a noise of surprise as he was soaked right back. “Thanks Usopp!” Chopper said, running for the bath. 

“Geez, give me a warning next time!” Usopp sighed, twirling some of his wet locks around his finger. “Man, I wasn’t even planning on washing my hair today.”

“No use complaining about it now.” Sanji said, pulling up a stool next to him. He held up Usopp’s shampoo bottle and shook it a little. “Want some help with it?”

“Please.”

—

Sanji laughed, the sound followed by a loud squirt of shampoo in his hand and a faint floral smell. Usopp turned his back to him and sighed happily at the first touch. They sat in relative silence—

“Chopper, do not turn into Walk Point—”

“Zoro, you don’t have to be jealous, we can take turns! You take the duck and—”

“I’m not gonna ride either of them!”

—as Sanji scrubbed shampoo into Usopp’s scalp. Usopp leaned back at bit more, his head tilting up. Like a cat wanting to be pet, Sanji thought fondly.

He took his time lathering up the suds and rubbing thoroughly at differents bits of sea salt and grit; he did the same for his own hair and he’d be damned if he didn’t do the same for his friend.

He combed his fingers through Usopp’s hair, taking his time to start from the ends and work his way up to the root, like Usopp taught him. Eventually, he ran his nails from the top of his scalp to the back of his nape in one smooth motion. Usopp had a full body tremble and sighed contentedly, the sound deep and satisfied. Something warm pooled in Sanji’s gut and he suddenly wanted to do anything to hear it again.

He repeated the motion, but Sanji only saw the curve of Usopp’s smile. A sight he held close to his heart, but not what he was hoping for. He ran his nails along the sides of his hair, scratching good and hard. Usopp huffed through his nose. Following the thread, Sanji put his fingers behind Usopp’s ear and scratched again; this time he had to rush to catch Usopp before he hit Sanji’s chest.

“Falling asleep?” Sanji asked with a laugh.

“Mmmno,” Usopp said, voice slow and drawn out. He tilted his ear towards Sanji and Sanji could see both his eyes were closed. “Keep going?”

Ah, maybe a dog would’ve been a better comparison. Sanji could almost imagine a little tail wagging against the floor. “‘Course. Can’t leave a job half done.” He grabbed a little more shampoo and got back to it, being sure to keep one hand right where Usopp wanted it.

To Sanji’s delight, Usopp sighed far deeper than before and pratically melted into his lap with hardly a thought; his arms lay limp over Sanji’s thighs and the back of his head pressed into Sanji’s stomach. The poor guy must’ve been tired from doing repairs on Merry earlier if all it took was a little head scratch or two to have him fighting sleep like that. Maybe Sanji should rinse off the shampoo and usher him off to bed—

Usopp sighed again, the sound closer to a pleased moan.

Well, this was benefitting both of them, really, so Sanji couldn’t just stop out of the blue. He had to be thorough in helping Usopp—he offered, afterall, and it’d be rude not to see it through. 

Usopp slid down a bit more, head turning to rest on Sanji’s thigh as Sanji scratched behind the other ear. His movement jostled the towel over his shoulder and it slipped to the ground.

Sanji noted it, absentmindedly, and glanced at the newly exposed part of Usopp’s chest without a second thought.

His hands stilled.

“Mmm? Why’d you stop?” Usopp asked. Sanji hardly heard him over the roaring in his ears. “Sanji?”

Blue waves. A chef’s hat. A distinct pattern of spirals. All encased in a small glass bottle.

There was a sharp inhale and suddenly the warmth across his thighs and stomach were gone.

Usopp stuttered some excuse as he left. Sanji was frozen, his eyes glued to the spot where his matching soulmark stared back at him.

His matching soulmark.

His matching soulmark.

And Usopp hadn’t said a word.

He sat there, covered in shampoo suds and wondering where he went wrong.

#one piece #sanji #usopp #sanuso #soulmate au #opfwex #opfwex2024 #opexchange #nemo the writing ho #this fic was so damn hard to keep quiet about #the other one too but this one Especially