#alpha!sucky x reader fluff
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Wildest Dreams: Part 2
AN: A skiff of smut in the beginning
Steve drew his fingers down Bucky’s spine and up again, slowly and languidly feeling his mate shudder beneath his touch. His right hand was tucked under the back of his head as he stared at the ceiling and hummed, his tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth. Steve was deep in thought while Bucky rest his head on Steve’s chest, the two entangled in sheets while some comedy played in the background on the small TV they set up in the corner.
“Do you remember…” Bucky had begun speaking, his voice soft and husky as he communicated with his best friend and lover. “…that omega that we used to be inseparable from?”
“I remember,” Steve had answered Bucky immediately, the two of them close enough to almost have the same thoughts, “her parents moved across the country.”
“She’s back,” Bucky had craned his neck, looking up at Steve through his lashes, cerulean blue eyes meeting stormy blue-green’s, “my mom told me. We know that her parents moved back last year, and now she did too. Ma said that she moved back because she hated being so far away from her parents. She’s transferred here.”
Steve inhaled sharply, his nose filling with Bucky’s scent while his heart thrashed wildly in its cage. Lately, Steve and Bucky had been thinking back to the daycare days and the omega that was as attached to Steve and Bucky as they were to her. Steve wondered if she had carried the same scent, or if it had frowned and changed.
It seemed so long ago, a distant memory that was filled with fuzzy images of the other kids they went to daycare with and the soft muffled voices that weren’t quite clear enough to be detectable. It was a memory that wasn’t inherently clear, however, if they focused hard enough they could remember the sound of her giggles and the way her scent seemed to coil around them like a blanket. The omega they knew, that had been so attached to them, had been ripped away after a doctor and therapist suggested that if the three had stayed close it would be detrimental to their socialization skills.
They would become too close and in becoming so close, they would isolate themselves from others around them.
It was recommended, and the decision was made. When your dad got a job offer across the country, it seemed like the perfect time to split up the trio, even if it ended up with immense tears being shed. You had left, and Steve and Bucky stayed and continued living in the same neighbourhood.
When Bucky’s dad, George, died a few years ago it could be a catalyst for the three of you to see each other again, but there had been a few factors that kept you apart. Their moms told them that you had watched the funeral online, and had sent your condolences, but then it fell silent again.
“Y/N,” Steve spoke your name, trailing his fingers back down Bucky’s spine, his own body shuddering when Bucky had slipped his left hand below the blanket and brushed his palm against the heady head of Steve’s cock, “we called her Omega Bean.”
“Beanie baby,” Bucky turned his head, his tongue and lips suckling Steve’s bare chest, “she was the cutest little omega.”
Steve hummed in agreement, the soft rumble of his chest growing when Bucky grabbed his shaft and pumped twice. Blood rushed to his cock, and his head had become engorged and swollen, Steve’s eyes screwed closed when Bucky shifted on the bed and threw the blankets back.
Bucky’s tongue had been trailing a deliberate path down Steve’s abdomen, to the illustrious V that led to his impressive and throbbing cock. It was a tense moment, a moment where time had slowed down and nearly come to a complete stop where Bucky had teased him, had puckered his lips against the head of his cock.
“Bucky just-“ Steve hissed and threw his head back when Bucky had enveloped Steve’s twitching head into his mouth, the blonde’s hand immediately set upon the back of Bucky’s head. Steve’s fingers wove into the strands of Bucky’s silky brown hair to push his lover to take more of his cock into his mouth, desperate need rumbling in his chest.
“Bucky, fuck-!” Steve’s head lolled back and his back had arched when the tip of Bucky’s nose touched Steve’s flesh, his mouth stretched around the thick girth. “Feels so good…”
There was rising sexual tension that was thick and banded, the air had grown heavy with the sound of Bucky slurping and sucking Steve’s cock, and Steve’s cursing. There was a moment of intense intimacy that was fuelled and rooted in the news that their old friend was back, the tension was driven by the news that someone they had known would be their omega, even from the moment they met, was back in their lives.
They hadn’t taken much of an interest in other omegas, occasionally they would have a threesome however more often than not they would take their sexual tension out on each other. Like now, like this moment where Bucky was sucking Steve’s dick like he was dying. It was the sounds of pleasure that echoed off the walls, that had reverberated against every possible surface as the two of them took stock in the feel of each other’s pleasure before they were needed on the football field.
It was part of their partnership with the student union to host and be a part of the introductory and welcome party to the university, a task set upon them that they weren’t entirely looking forward to. They had far too much on their minds otherwise than being on the field wearing their gear in order to run plays and grab hopeful freshmen to try out for the team or even volunteer. An added benefit of them being there meant that the cheerleaders would be there dressed as well, the push to gather attention and interest in the competitive sports was unrelenting.
“Bucky, fuck…”
“I know you’re going to cum,” Bucky swiped his tongue along Steve’s shaft, feeling his cock twitch in response, “you’re close-“
“Fucking swallow,” Steve growled and shoved his mouth back down, that domineering part of him taking hold again, settling in for a moment as he assumed the dominant role. “Don’t make a mess.”
Silence was combatted by the sounds of sucking and curses, and it had all come to a head when Steve had growled and cursed, his head thrown back, the veins in his neck pronounced as he came in Bucky’s mouth. His thick spurts of cum swallowed as Steve wanted and only when Bucky was done had he pulled his mouth off and licked his lips, then stuck his tongue out to show Steve.
“Fuck,” Steve exhaled in a huff, running his hands through his hair, “I feel like I could go again.”
“Not now, Stevie.” Bucky crawled up his chest and kissed him quickly, letting him taste himself, “we’re going to be late.”
The pads on his shoulders felt tighter today, and the jersey seemed to irritate him no matter how he tried to adjust it to fit. Everything just felt wrong, and he almost wished Coach didn’t insist on making them run plays to garner attention, it wasn’t as if they needed it. The teams were as thick as thieves, they were making plays that were as brilliant as they were tight which had already struck an impressive reputation for the boys on the team.
Still, Coach insisted. And with the football team, had come the cheerleaders and their sparkly uniforms that had gained different kinds of attention altogether. The girls that Steve and Bucky had become good friends with, the dancers who were all sweet and kind in their way, didn’t find any enjoyment in this either. They felt like they were there as pretty little bobbles and decorations to draw in freshmen and graduated high schoolers who were looking forward to their college years.
“Nothing sits right.” Steve huffed, complaining to Bucky who had set his helmet on the grass to help Steve. “I’d rather not do this.”
“Quarterback and captain of the football team complaining about things being too tight…”
“Bucky, I swear to God-“ Steve growled, his eyes burning into Bucky’s as the halfback laughed under his breath and tugged on Steve’s jersey, fixing the placement that he was complaining about.
“Is that better?” Bucky teased, nudging his helmet aside and leaning in, almost as if he was going to kiss him before he pulled away at Coach’s whistle.
“Barnes! Rogers!” Coach called them to split them apart, ushering them to their places with a nod of his head. “Get on the field with Levinson so we can run some plays.”
Bucky had bent to grab his helmet from the grass, and when he had stood again he had noticed the transfixed haze in Steve’s eyes. The way his best friend and mate had become catatonically enthralled by something or someone in the crowd had stirred Bucky’s attention, and after he cast a look over his shoulder he had understood why.
Steve was watching the crowd, enraptured by a single soul among the crowd who was watching the team with mild interest. They didn’t need to be close enough to catch the scent of the omega or even see the breathtakingly stunning eyes that could have pierced through them. They knew, they both felt the figurative shift of the earth beneath their feet from the slightest appearance of the omega they once knew among the field to watch the team.
It was the single look, the first appearance in years and yet both alphas had felt the surreal jolt deep within their souls.
“Omega Bean.” Steve whispered it first, he was in such a thick and heavy trance that he hadn’t felt or heard their coach calling him from further down the field.”Fuck, Bucky-“
“I know.” Bucky exhaled in a huff, just as stunned as Steve was.
They knew you were on campus, and they knew you were enrolled in the university but to see you in person, less than a hundred feet away from you was a surreal experience. They knew they had to have known, that things would not be the same as they were in daycare and yet it didn’t seem to matter. Appearances alone were enough, seeing you on the sidelines was enough for the two alphas to feel their entire world shift.
“Barnes! Rogers!” When their coach called again, Steve and Bucky had snapped out of their haze and had gained the ability to move again, both of them yanking their helmets on. They had crossed the field and joined their team again, the two of them taking the positions necessary to run the play Coach had planned.
Steve dug his heels into the turf and tucked his head, he kept his breathing even and slow as he counted down the milliseconds before the whistle was blown and the call from the other half of the team, who was playing the opposition, was made. The play was in motion and he had moved by memory, every action and step, every subtle bounce to his steps as he turned to avoid a tackle was instinctual.
The whole half hour seemed endless as they ran play after play, as they had worked through the usual tactics when they practiced for the purpose of stirring attention in the program. He was used to the noise, he was used to the sound of the cheerleading team calling from the sidelines, their pompoms waving and the skills they had exuded as they had done flips and tricks were all typical.
It was all the usual.
But your presence was not.
You watching them was new, and when they had come to a stop, Steve had ripped his helmet off and dropped it on the sidelines. He followed his inner drive, the internal compass that would always lead to you or to Bucky, the innate pull that made him want to find you.
He had stepped off the field and onto the sidelines, his chest rising and falling with every gulp of air as if he was trying to weed through the various scents to find yours. Even if it was only the tail end of your scent, he was desperate to find it just to see how different it had been.
“Steve! That was amazing!” A cheerleader, one who had been one of his and Bucky’s casual hookups once upon a time, had bounced on her heels and hugged him. There was nothing but friendship behind the hug, nothing but a friendly congratulations as she snaked her arms around his neck, and he had instinctively wrapped an arm around her waist to settle her down, his eyes still piercing the crowd to find you.
“Is she here?” Bucky jogged up behind him, his helmet discarded like Steve’s.
“Oh, are you talking about that omega?” Their cheerleading friend had turned, while still resting against Steve, and pointed toward you as you sat wide-eyed on the bench. “She’s so cute!”
“Yeah,” Bucky smiled crookedly, “she’s a cute thing, isn’t she?”
She had waved with her pompon, stirring your frown and narrowed eyes. You had scowled and rolled your eyes, standing abruptly and stomping on the stands as you moved. There was a phantom memory of you in rubber boots splashing on the sidewalk through puddles that had hit both Steve and Bucky with potency, making the two alphas grin in unison.
“Clearly she’s not happy to see you.” Their friend laughed and tossed her pompom at Steve’s head, laughing at his sudden turn. “What’d you do?”
“Nothing,” Steve huffed, “haven’t seen her since we were five.”
“We got our work cut out for us, punk.”
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anonymous asked: can we get a bakugou fluff based on the song hug all ur friends by cavetwon
pairing: bakugou katsuki x fem!reader
warning: bakugou has high anxiety, cussing, fluff
word count: 4,000
a/n: so I listened to the 1 hour loop to this song when writing it LMAO, I think its one of my better pieces ive written, but I guess that’s also for you to decide!!!!!! enjoy!!!!
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Bakugou Katsuki was someone who had no guilt in admitting that he cared about himself first and foremost. Bakugou Katsuki never imagined a day would come where he would find himself interested in someone-- especially in a romantic setting.
Romance and Bakugou, to him it seemed like mixing oil and water. Impractical and impossible.
Bakugou was hard, rough, and explosive.
Romance was soft, tender, and weakening.
So for the life of him, Bakugou could not understand why on god you were consuming his thoughts. Why did you have him wrapped around your fingers despite you only being his best friend? What the hell was wrong with him?!
Bakugou stared at you from the distance, his eyes were warm, his face soft, and the book in his hands long forgotten.
You were a force, this overwhelming energy that he could not figure out.
You weren’t like Kirishima who gained his friendship through mutual respect and trust in each other’s strengths. You weren’t like Sero or Mina who he came to see as friends after he used them for their quirks two years ago. You weren’t like Kaminari who he saw as a friend because Kirishima came as this unknown package deal.
You were soft, tender, and in no way were you weak, but Bakugou couldn’t think of any other word to describe you but weak.
It made no sense as to how you two became friends. The two of you had spoken once! Then you landed a punch on his jaw so strong that he needed to go to Recovery Girl and you cried for hours afterward. Bakugou thought it was dumb that you were apologizing so he yelled at you for being stupid. Seconds later you two were friends.
“Bakasuki, it’s way past your bedtime!” You screamed as you looked up from your phone. Your eyes red with tiredness and irritation still shone as you made eye contact. The impressed grin on your face as strong as if it was midday. “It’s midnight?!”
Bakugou felt his face cement over again. It was an involuntary action as you rambled off about how the big softie Bakugou Katsuki was awake at 'crackhead' hours. As you got up and walked over to Bakugou, he felt his hardened features melt as you took a stance in front of him.
“I bet you’re staying up because of me, come on, admit that you like me.”
Your words are teasing of course, yet Bakugou’s heart clenches at the truth of your words. Bakugou one year ago had begun staying awake past nine because of you. You were always active at night! You told new stories that Bakugou wanted to hear at a late hour, and Bakugou soon found himself staying up.
Ten at night turned to eleven, eleven became twelve, and then Bakugou was up until two in the morning because of you. He never complained about it, and he never dared to tell you or anyone about it. Bakugou took every teasing you gave, and you teased him about him staying up every night even if it was a year later.
“Trust me, if I was staying up because of you I would fucking hate myself,” Bakugou lies as you laugh. “Don’t think you’re fucking special because I tolerate you.”
His words were harsh to the average ear, but to the trained ear, to your ear, it was as if he nudged you playfully.
“Sure you old grump,” you wink as you stick out your hand. “Iida said it’s my turn with the Disney+, wanna go watch with me?”
“As long as you don’t make me watch something fucking horrible,” Bakugou grunts as he takes your hand.
He would watch the sappiest of movies and the weirdest of shows if it meant that you’d snuggle into his side. His favorite memories have you at his left. These memories also included you between his legs as you laughed hysterically at the horrible and childish jokes. It also didn’t matter how many times you watched the same movie, you always ramble as if it was your first time viewing it.
“I’m thinking Lilo and Stitch,” you let him into your thoughts as you begin walking towards the staircase. His hand is still locked with yours. “I think I can be Lilo, and you can be Stitch! You two have very similar personalities!”
“Like hell I’m anything like that fucking animal!”
“I didn’t even need to goad you into a reaction!”
“Shut up dumbass…”
“If I ever stopped talking to you, you would go insane! So careful what you wish for!”
“I wish you would shut up…”
Bakugou watched as your lips pressed flat together. A faux annoyed expression on your face and you dropped his hand.
It may have embarrassed Bakugou to admit what he did next, but it took him five seconds to crack under your cold shoulder. He threw you over his shoulder as he walked to your room. Your squealing exclamations were loud as he held your lower thigh.
“See I told you--”
“Shut the fuck up, shitty woman!”
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Your loud groan rang in Bakugou’s ears and his eyebrow twitched as he once again looked at your slumped figure. It was the second to last set of finals you guys would be taking as hero students. Three years later, you were nearing the final countdown to graduation! But that meant finals.
Bakugou had managed to stay within the top three of his class all three years. So he felt decent in where he was in class ranking right now. He has ranked third right now after all, but you ranked fifteenth. A feat that he had zero idea about how it came to be considering how smart you were. You had a sharp mind, a witty sense of humor, and a deadly tongue! Yet you were barely outperforming the rest of his idiot friends. You were one of the few people who could beat him in a verbal challenge! But when it came to pencil and paper tests, you stumbled hard.
“Would you stop fucking groaning?! You’re not getting anything done except getting on my goddamn nerves!”
“WELL!” You immediately yelled back, your nose stuck to the sky as you tossed your pencil away. “I don’t know actually! I screamed well because I live for the dramatics!" Bakugou groaned as you laugh. "Okay, but this all makes sense to me now! It's... I’ve realized I become an idiot whenever I try doing it on the exams.”
“It’s because you are an idiot.”
“Wow, thanks,” you complain as you slam your forehead against your math textbook. You shot back up gasping loudly. “OH SHIT! Bakugou you solved all my problems! This entire time I’ve been an idiot! I’ll tell Deku to give me some smart people juice tomorrow morning, obviously, I’ve been sipping the idiot juice.”
“Hah? Fucking hell -- do you ever shut up and wait for me to finish what I’m saying?!”
“Bakasuki, there was a period at the end of that sentence! Or let me guess what you’d say next!”
“Don’t fucking guess--”
“‘Oi, shitty woman, I’m Baku-hoe Kat-sucky, and you better get your head outta your asshole! Maybe if you weren’t always on your goddamn phone you wouldn’t be failing’!” Your voice had lowered multiple octaves to the point where you sounded like you smoked every day. Bakugou watched as your face contorted into a mock scowl, your nose stuck into the air as your arms folded across your chest. “‘I’m the alpha nerd here, so you have to fucking listen to me, you damn fucking nerd ass shitty woman!’”
Bakugou remained silent as you erupted in giggles, your eyes beaming with joy as you looked at him.
“I don’t fucking cuss, shitty woman,” Bakugou retorted. He knew it was a lie but the way your eyes expanded four times their size and how you pressed your face into his shoulder was worth the lie.
“You don’t cuss?! Wow, suddenly my name isn’t y/n!”
“Hm, well I was going to point out that you probably have some form of testing anxiety, but since you’re Miss. Fucking-Know-It-All…”
“There’s no way I’m eighteen and don’t know that about me!”
“Well, you didn’t fucking know you loved chocolate caramels until this last month either.”
This launched you into another tangent. Your conversation skills always gave Bakugou whiplash! You talked about everything you could and right now it was about what you loved. It should have annoyed Bakugou, he knew that! But while you rambled about how you loved seeing oversized dogs in bags, he realized that he loved knowing more about you.
How he would kill for the chance to pull you close, he knew that if he did you would hug him without a blink of an eye. Bakugou knew if he attempted to feel your warmth you’d overwhelm him forever and he wasn’t sure if that was something he wanted. Did he want you? Did he actually love you or was it just the chemistry in his brain is dumb. He wasn’t sure what he wanted as you showcased your favorite pencil.
“Do you have something you love, ‘suki?”
You.
“No, I don’t fucking love anything. The hell is love good for?”
“Don’t you worry about what people think about you when you can’t answer a question on something you love?”
The only opinion he cares about is yours.
“They don’t need to fucking care about what I love, how the hell does that make me a reliable pro hero?! Gossip and tabloids and interviews are bullshit. How is me smiling and being nice in front of a camera going to prove anything?”
Bakugou’s eyes widened as you wrapped your arms around him drawing him into a tight embrace. His eyes blinked rapidly as he felt frozen. His hands are frozen at his side as you pressed into him. You were making him dizzy. His heart pounded so loudly in his ears that he feared you could hear it as you pressed your lips to his ear.
“Sometimes you just have to hug people, let them know that you’re not letting go. Being kind and offering a hand, even if it kills your feral vibes, gives them a reason to love you and trust them. Trust is important, you know that, dummy. Hugging them is a small promise of not letting go.”
His breathing stilled as you pulled away. Your hair fell in your face and you sucked everything out of him as you smiled softly. But who would Bakugou Katsuki be if he didn’t have something back to say?
“I’m not fucking hugging any of those damn extras out there!”
“It was a FIGURE OF SPEECH, BAKAGOU!”
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“Rise and shine, grumpy old man!” Your voice rang as bright sunshine shone through Bakugou’s room.
“Fucking hell, y/n! Shut my goddamn shutters!”
“It is past noon, and I am here to make sure you are in fact alive!”
“Shitty woman, please close the damn shutters… I got in three hours ago and I want to fucking sleep in.”
The shutters closed immediately and guilt hung heavy in your voice as you said, “Wait you got in at nine?! You got called out of class early, too!”
Bakugou who had been sitting up now, glowering at your form fell back onto his mattress without a word. Unfortunately, it seemed that you weren’t quite done with him.
“Why the hell are you still in my room?”
“...can I nap with you?”
“Hah?”
“I was out from five in the morning until a few minutes ago! I just… want to cuddle, but if you don’t want to that’s totally cool!”
“You’re so goddamn annoying,” he nearly growls. It wasn’t necessarily directed at you, but instead himself. He was going to let you obviously, but how much longer could he do this uncaring act? How he hadn’t just slammed your oblivious ass against a door to kiss the soul out of you was beyond him. “Get in.”
A loud squeal emitted from your throat as Bakugou felt your figure snuggling into his chest. Your body was cold against his, and he resisted the urge to shiver as you wrapped his arm around you.
“I never fucking said you were allowed to cuddle.”
“Oh please, you were going to latch onto me at some point, might as well do it now instead of waking up to it and freaking out.”
“You’re fucking annoying.”
“Shh, I’m trying to nap.”
Bakugou snorted but nonetheless brought you in closer as he too closed his eyes. He ended up falling asleep with you in his arms. It wasn’t until he woke up did he realize that today was to be your friend's date. Something you had been persistent in having. But as you too woke up at half-past seven p.m., the both of you agreed that the nap was way better than going out.
That is until Kaminari sent a picture of Bakugou and you cuddling to the group chat. But then again, Bakugou may or may not have saved it as his home screen.
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4:48 a.m.
Bakugou’s eyes focused on the neon red numbers that illuminated across his bed. His alarm was positioned as such so he would be forced to get up to turn it off in the morning.
His heartbeat was pounding in his ears as everything turned blurry.
4:49 a.m.
His eyes closed and he was suddenly back in Kamino two years ago.
His body felt dirty, sticky, unclean.
His mouth tainted with the taste of copper. His teeth gritting together as he saw All Might fighting in front of him.
It was hard to fight with his sweat-soaked and stiff clothes. All he knew was those bastards turned from wanting to convert him to wanting him dead. He remembers stumbling and seeing your frantic eyes in the corner of his vision. He didn't know you well back then, so it confused him, at least before a yell from Kirishima took his attention away.
It was the first actual memory he had of you, and yet it intertwined with his memory of All Might’s downfall. A downfall that could have been prevented if he had just been fucking better. If he had been a better hero maybe he wouldn’t have been caught. If he had been a better person maybe he would never have been targeted in the first place. It didn’t matter how many different ways he ran through his memories, it always ended up being his fault.
The fight with Deku had helped relieve the surface tension. All Might saying it wasn’t his fault barely made an impact on the guilt demon that ate away at his inner thoughts.
Simply told, tonight was a bad night. Nothing he did could drive away the guilt demon.
You were the one who made him strong but you were out on a mission for your hero work. You were being a hero to people who needed you, yet Bakugou wanted you to be his hero right now…
His anxiety crawled down his spine. His mind swimming back to the image of All Might's defeated form, and it kept reeling in his mind. His palms sweated profusely, but at this point, he had no idea if it was from his anxiety or from his quirk.
It burned to breathe and he wanted to go for a run, but he knew he shouldn’t. So he stood up out of bed choosing to walk down to the kitchen.
4:57 a.m., the clock read as the door shut behind him.
He felt dizzy as he walked down the hallway, his heart racing as he went down the staircase.
The lights were on and it made his eyes hurt as he opened the door for the ground floor.
“‘Suki?” A tired voice whispered as Bakugou stared up.
It was you.
Your uniform looked rumpled and dirty. Your tie wasn’t done and your hair was a mess as you yawn, your hand rubbing your eye as you waved at him. Bakugou saw the bandage on your neck and cheek and he pointed at them.
“Some dumbass with a--” you stifle a yawn as you shake your head. “Fucking vampire quirk! If he bit you, and consumed your blood, you would be entranced with him! Can you believe that!”
Bakugou snorted as you showed him the bruised mark on your neck.
“Thing is, he doesn’t have fangs, his teeth were super dull, so now I look like I had sex!”
“Can’t have people thinking that huh?”
“Nah... now, you gonna tell me what’s wrong?”
Bakugou knew better than to lie to you, but he couldn’t help it, you needed to sleep.
“Nothing, I needed water.”
“I’m sure you are,” you nod your head as you adjust your backpack. “But that doesn’t explain why there’s tears in your eyes and on your cheeks.”
His eyes widened as he felt the wet stains on his face, he was indeed crying.
“I don’t really wanna talk about it,” he grumbled as his hands shoved into his sweats.
“That’s okay,” you smile as you take a few steps forward. “Can I give you a hug?”
It takes everything in him not to scream at you to hug him, so instead, he turns his head and nods curtly. Your arms are wrapped around him immediately as he feels himself shrinking into your hold. You were safe, you were warm, and you made him weak.
It was at that moment that Bakugou Katsuki noticed that he completely and utterly was in love with you.
As he went through these thoughts you grabbed his hand and led him upstairs, “I’ll get you your water, but you need to rest.”
“Shitty woman, I can take care of myself,” Bakugou breathed as he didn’t resist you taking him to his room. “Besides we have class tomorrow, you need more sleep than I do.”
He watches as you shrug as you open his room door.
“Maybe so, but I’m a Hero and you’re someone in need of a savior!” you chirped as your lips pressed softly onto his cheek as you sat him in bed. “I’ll be right back, lay down please!”
He nodded dumbly as you left, his cheeks burning as the door closed.
It felt like no time had passed as you soon returned with a cup of water, “Now drink! Crying is good for the soul, but it dehydrates you so much.”
“Tch, idiot, don’t say that like you cry all the time,” Bakugou grumbles as he chugs the water down.
Your fingers take the glass from him and place it onto the desk, your shoulders bouncing as you sigh one last time. “Well, I should go to bed, I may not need beauty sleep, but even three hours of sleep can make me ugly.”
“Sleep here,” Bakugou found himself mumbling as you were by the door. “You can take a shirt, I just… please, just fucking sleep here with me?”
Bakugou expected teasing, he expected you to laugh it off and say he was dumb and crazy. What he didn’t expect was for you to grab his skull t-shirt and strip your clothes off in his bathroom.
He stilled as you crawled into bed with him, your body curling into his as you held him near.
“Goodnight, ‘suki,” you whispered.
His arms wrapped tightly around you, a sharp intake of air went through your nose.
“Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank you, y/n.”
“You’re welcome…”
✩✶✩❇✩✶✩
You smile while wiping away tears that formed in your eyes.
Tears streamed uncontrollably down your face as you taped up the last box with writing that read: Y/N PICTURES.
It was moving out day, you had done it, you graduated.
“Y/l/n-chan!! Stop crying and c-come take a p-p-picture with us!” Mina wailed as she too was crying uncontrollably.
The common room was fill of every one of your classmates, tears were in everyone's eyes as boxes scattered near the entrance. It was over. Three years of heaven and hell were gone and even though everyone would still be seeing everyone again (you all were working in the same general areas after all), tears wouldn’t stop.
Multiple times you brushed away tears as twenty-one of you stood for class pictures.
Class pictures became friend group pictures, friend group pictures became trios and duo pictures.
Everyone was crying and everyone was laughing too. It was as if you were never going to see anyone again and the tears wouldn’t stop.
I love you’s were exchanged, promises of not forgetting who each other were as you would all become stars, and plans on monthly meetups because you were family. It was too much, it was too sentimental, and you were ready to leave.
“I hate to do this to you all, but it’s time to go,” Aizawa lulled over the roar of your classes chatter.
For the first time, his words were useless as you all took a photo with him, much to your homeroom teachers' secret enjoyment.
But now it was time to go.
You gave a one-armed hug to Mineta as he bounded out of the door. He had somewhat had drunk respect-women juice and was now tolerable. But the nightmares forever remained.
Then Koda, Aoyama, Shoji, Ojiro, Tokoyami, and Sato were done swiftly yet deeply. They all said kind words and promises to keep in touch as they left.
Then it was Iida, Todoroki, and Midoriya. The group of boys embraced you tightly as Iida told you and Midoriya to stop crying. It only strengthening your tears as Todoroki patted your back softly.
Then it was Mina, Momo, Jirou, Tsu, Uraraka, and Hagakure. The girl group and the reason why this class felt like family so quickly made you cry harder as you all lost it. Hugs were tight, hugs lasted minutes long as you all shouted over each other. This was not goodbye, just a see you later.
Sero, Kaminari, Kirishima, Mina, and Jirou once again met you for a tight embrace. The dubbed Bakusquad because Bakugou was the loudest one in the group, but you all knew that if the group never held Kirishima it would never work. Bakusquad was truly Kirisquad and you excitedly talked about how you were all going to karaoke on Sunday.
A gentle cough broke you from Sero’s embrace and you turned to the last person who you hadn’t hugged yet.
Bakugou didn’t look at you as he sighed, his shoulder slumping as he looked at you. Your lips quirked as your heart raced at his red-tinged eyes, he had cried too.
“We’ll see you guys later!” Kaminari yelled as the boxes in the now empty common room belonged to you.
“We’re still on for tonight?” Bakugou asked as his finger brushed the wet trails that stained your cheeks.
“Have I ever ditched you or stood you up?”
“You could have made plans in your crying hysteria, it’s been done before.”
His words are teasing and you laugh as you launch yourself into his arms. Your arms wrap around his neck as his rest around your waist.
“I don’t know why you weren’t interested in having a spa day with the girls!” You teased as you bit your lower lip.
“Too much gossip about dicks,” Bakugou rolled his eyes as he squeezed you tightly.
“It’s a good thing you didn’t go, I wouldn’t have wanted you to see me talking about my dick of a boyfriend,” you whisper as his eyes shine brilliantly.
“Hah? You’re really gonna fucking--”
Bakugou never got to finish that sentence as your lips pressed against his and his mind went weak as he kissed you back.
You were the undoing of Bakugou Katsuki.
You made him weak, yet he’s never felt stronger.
#bakugou x reader#bakugou imagine#bakugou katsuki x reader#katsuki bakugou x reader#bakugou katsuki#bakugou fluff#bnha writing blog#bnha#bnha x reader#bnha bakugou#mha#mha x reader#mha imagines#mha bakugou
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Hiraeth - I.VI: The Forgotten One
pairing(s): Hybrid!Im Jaebeom x Reader, Witch!Mark Tuan x Reader, Werewolf!Jackson Wang x Reader, Vampire!Park Jinyoung x Reader, Supernatural!Got7 x Reader
genre: Supernatural!AU, Dark Magic!AU, HEAVY Angst, some Fluff, eventual Smut
warnings: Mature language, mentions of death and murder, brief violence, blood and gore, character death by suicide, mentions of depression and mental illness, hallucinations and trauma, brief mentions of child abuse and slavery, etc.
Trigger Warning: This chapter does contain graphic and explicit depictions of suicide. Please do not read if this will harm you. This is your final warning.
word count: 7,6k
synopsis: How far are you willing to go to find out the truth about Moon Dye Bay?…
chapter directory
A/N: This is a dark and heavy chapter.Please make sure to look carefully and closely at the warnings. Your safety and wellbeing should be your first priority. Do not read if you know it will cause you harm. Be safe and enjoy.
“I can’t believe he just left like that, that asshole!” Jinyoung holds back a chuckle at your bitter retort, unable to focus on anything aside from the furious expression along your features. He knows he shouldn’t find your anger cute, but there’s something about the way your nose scrunches inward and how your lips purse that has him melting. More so than the fever.
“I mean, what kind of self-absorbed, arrogant, heartless prick leaves his best friend to suffer…?”
“Jaebeom has never been the most compassionate person on the planet.” Jinyoung hums in response, tilting his head as to better give you access to towel away the sweat gathering across his forehead. “Even when we were children, it was hard for him to see through someone else’s eyes. But that is likely the cause of his upbringings.”
You shake your head indignantly. “We’ve all had sucky childhoods. That doesn’t excuse this petty, cruel bullshit.”
For a short moment, Jinyoung studies the forefronts of your face. This is the first time you have ever brought up mention of your childhood, and he couldn’t help but notice the rather sour tone of your voice. And while he can easily pass that off as anger toward his hybrid brother, Jinyoung wonders whether there’s more beneath the surface…
Who really are you…?
“Did Jaebeom tell you anything about his past during your time together?”
You shrug. “Yeah, I guess? He told me about your family, and your father—”
“What about his family?” Jinyoung notices how your body pauses, the cold cloth on his forehead freezing in place. He gives you a second to fix your composure, before leaning back into the comfort of his mattress and continuing, “Jaebeom’s parents were both killed by pillagers when he was very young, leaving him orphaned and one of the only remaining survivors in his village.
“He was taken into slavery, and traded off from one person to the next.” He explains, taking a second to cough and clear the thick bile building in his throat. “For the majority of his childhood, Jaebeom was beaten, abused, starved, maltreated and left to die more times than anyone could count. If I hadn’t found him, incapacitated and nearly dead in the forest, he would never have survived past fourteen.”
Guilt washes along your face, transmitting into your body language through the shakiness of your hands and tension in your shoulders. Jinyoung keeps his eyes trained as you dab his cheek, ignoring how the cloth does little to relieve yet another increase in his body temperature.
You murmur with a deep frown, “I… didn’t know.”
“Few do. Jaebeom doesn’t like to look back on his past.”
“But that still doesn’t make sense to me.” The hand with the cloth falls to your lap as you take the time to think. Jinyoung waits patiently, resting comfortably against his pillows. “If you two are so close… why let you go on sick rather than heal you?”
“Jaebeom and I have spent many lifetimes together, (Y/N).” He says, “Like most companions, we’ve had our fair share of falling-outs and feuds… This time was no different.”
“So he’s essentially punishing you? For not listening to him?”
Jinyoung sighs. “I know it’s difficult to believe, but Jaebeom does have a good heart.”
You scoff. “Yeah. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”
“He spared you, didn’t he?”
“He told you…?” Your eyes widen in surprise, and Jinyoung can’t help but smile at how much you resemble a gentle doe.
“Not exactly…” With some needed effort, he moves his arm to your lap where your free hand rests on your thigh. He mindlessly runs the tip of his finger over the bump of your knuckles, marveling at how cool your skin feels against his own. “My brother and I got into an argument the day before you came to the cemetery, so I had a suspicion he would try and retaliate against me… When I saw you were here, with him, I knew my suspicions were somewhat correct.”
Jinyoung raises his gaze to meet your eyes. “Time is not a friend when it involves creatures like me and Jaebeom, (Y/N). We may live forever, but we also suffer and endure the same pain forever.”
“There’s really no way for you to die?”
“No. If there was, then I would have ended my life a long, long time ago.”
Jinyoung notices how your eyes seem to sadden at his answer. But he doesn’t inquire any further, enduring another coughing fit that rattles his bones from the inside out. A small barrage of blood leaves his lips to splatter across the white sheets, which you’re quick to wipe away before offering if you can do anything else.
He shakes his head. “The symptoms will pass eventually, but you need to leave. I will start to hallucinate soon and I don’t want to put you in danger.”
“I’m not just gonna leave you here by yourself.” You argue, adamantly shaking your own head back and forth. “You’re stuck with me until your ass gets better.”
For the first time, Jinyoung actually curses your stubborn nature. He releases a groan, partly out of pain and partly out of frustration, before forcing himself to sit up against all your warning protests. Once he’s in a less than comfortable position, Jinyoung reaches for your shoulder and pulls you even closer toward his bedside.
“Mark is missing, and Youngjae needs a friend right now.” Your steadfast expression falters at Jinyoung’s words.
You sigh heavily. “I just… don’t want you to be alone.”
Jinyoung’s heart seizes at your confession, but he forces his expression to remain neutral. For your favor, and for his.
“I’ve endured this fever dozens of times on my own. This time will be no different.” He reaches up to brush a fallen eyelash from your cheek, relishing the starry night that shimmers in your eyes. “Go, please. Unlike me, your friends are not immortal.”
You remain troubled for a moment, weighing the options over while nervously gnawing at your bottom lip. Before he can think about his actions, Jinyoung hooks his thumb over your lip and frees the flesh from the wrath of your teeth. Surprise flashes in your eyes, but it is quickly replaced with defeat.
You surrender with a nod, “Fine. But I’m only going because I’m worried about Mark… not because you told me to.”
“Of course.” Jinyoung smiles as you retract from his touch, captivated by the way you flail about the room, preparing him a sick care package and gathering your own belongings. After you’re satisfied, you return to his bedside, and to Jinyoung’s surprise, lean down to splay your lips across his burning cheek. When you pull back, you refuse to meet his gaze.
“That’s for saving my life… And everything else.”
Long after you’ve exited the room, Jinyoung can still feel the lingering ghost of your lips against his skin.
☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾
Raindrops cascade gracefully from the silver storm clouds above, creating a soft curtain of mist everywhere you look. The chill of the rain shower actually motivates your pace to pick up. That, and the apprehension of leaving Jinyoung alone in such a weak, vulnerable state. Though your inclination to find Mark keeps you from turning on your heel and hailing a cab all the way back to the Project Estate… yet another good chunk of money out of your wallet.
At this point, you might as well as invest in a car.
The sigh that falls from your lips disappears into the falling rain as you slip past the entrance gate of Eclipse Cemetery. Before you found out about Mark’s witch nature, you never understood why he and his friends ever chose to hang out in a graveyard—a place where you can’t walk without stepping over the resting place of a corpse. You always figured Mark was edgy like that… and just strange, in general.
Your boots sink into the earth with each step, thick mud staining the leather soles. You can’t bring yourself to really care though, too focused on reaching the mausoleum before the storm soaks you to the bone. However, just when the familiar building is mere feet away, a rather small gathering of people come into view. You recognize Youngjae’s dark head amongst the crowd and beeline straight for the group.
Youngjae notices your approaching figure and turns to greet you. Even through the fog, you can tell the younger male has been crying from his swollen cheeks and crimson-tinted eyes. As soon as you’re in reach, you wrap your arms around his waist and pull him into a tight hug.
He reciprocates with a murmur. “I didn’t think you’d come… not after what happened—”
“None of that matters right now.” You assure, running a hand through Youngjae’s rain-soaked locks. “We’re gonna find him, okay? He’ll be home before you know it.”
“I hope so.”
After another moment or so, Youngjae pulls back from your hold. His hand remains on your bicep as he invites you into the sea of faces, where the surrounding strangers had watched your display with the young siphoner. You clear your throat, willing away the slight embarrassment brewing inside your gut.
“(Y/N)-noona, these are members of Moon Dye Bay’s resident werewolf pack.” Youngjae points to a shorter, but rather broad and muscular male with bleached, blonde hair, “This is Bang Chan, the Alpha and leader of the wolves.”
Chan’s smile is kind. “Hi. I wish we could have met during better circumstances.”
“Same here.” You reply, offering a small smile of your own.
“Kim Yugyeom is Chan’s second-in-command. You might have heard his name from—”
“Bambam.” You finish Youngjae’s sentence with a nod, noting Yugyeom’s extremely tall stature. And to think you thought that Bambam had long-ass legs… “It’s nice to finally know the face of the best friend he mentions all the time.”
Unlike Chan, Yugyeom doesn’t smile. But you can tell it’s not out of impoliteness or prejudice. The dark bags underneath his eyes and the tense lines of his cheeks disclose the severity of his exhaustion.
“The feeling is mutual.” Yugyeom hums, “Bam talks about you a lot too.”
“All good things, I hope.”
“More or less.” You make a note to smack the cashier the next time you see him as Yugyeom gestures to a young woman at his side with navy blue hair and a pretty smile, “This is my sister, Dahyun.”
“It’s so good to finally meet you.” Dahyun steps forward to take your hands between her own, “A couple of my friends are in Professor Park’s literature and history classes. They rant and rave about the aide that might as well be their professor.”
You chuckle shyly, “I’m getting there. Working on my doctorate right now.”
“Good for you.” Dahyun squeezes your hands before letting go and returning next to her brother. Through the corner of your eye, you notice another figure lingering beside a grand oak tree—obviously steering clear of the circle. His expression is cold, almost as if he had never smiled in his entire life.
“Don’t mind Changbin.” Chan blocks your view of the lone male with a sigh, “He’s in a mood, and has never been the greatest at greeting new people.”
You wave off his concern, instead focusing your gaze on an oddly silent Youngjae. Your heart practically breaks at the pure sadness and helplessness that contorts his features, but before you can open your mouth to console the siphoner, Yugyeom beats you to it:
“Is there any way we can find Mark without ripping apart the entire goddamn town? Some spell or enchantment or…?”
Youngjae shakes his head. “I already tried a tracking spell. He’s cloaked, meaning we won’t be able to detect him with magic.”
“What about the witch?” Dahyun says, “I mean—she had to have taken him while we were dealing with the huntress, right? There’s no other explanation why he would just up and disappear—”
“Wait—” You stare incredulously at the conversing wolves and witch, “Mina took Mark? Why would she do that?”
Yugyeom shrugs. “We killed her partner. Seems like a pretty decent way to get revenge.”
“She won’t… hurt him? Will she?”
Silence is your only answer, and it unleashes an electric wave of panic through your veins. You swallow down the gathering bile in the back of your throat before getting a grip on your sanity and turning back to the group:
“My friend is close with her.” You gulp, already pulling your phone from your pocket. “I’ll call and see if she knows any place she might have gone.”
“Good idea.” Chan nods and turns to the other wolves, “While (Y/N) does that, we should start forming search parties to check the town. Dahyun, you call Chaeyoung and Ryujin and have them start at the square—”
“Why do we even fucking bother?” Everyone startles at the sudden, gruff question. It takes you a second to realize the voice belonged to the lone wolf, Changbin, who is now rounding in on the small circle with a violent sneer. You can’t help but shiver beneath the intensity of his expression.
Dahyun rolls her eyes. “Who invited this asshole to come, again?”
“Dubu, please.” Yugyeom sends his sister a pointed look before meeting Changbin’s gaze. You marvel at how calm the tall wolf seems, as if he’s dealt with this type of thing a good number of times beforehand.
His tone resembles that of a parent speaking a serious subject to their child. “We’ve already talked about this… Mark—”
“—is the fucking reason why Jackon is dead?” Changbin chuckles darkly, the soaking wet hood over his head intensifying his intimidating aura. “No matter how many times I try to tell you that, hyung—you just don’t seem to get it…”
“Mark didn’t kill Jackson!” Dahyun argues, shoving past Yugyeom to approach the furious wolf. Although she’s significantly shorter than him, Dahyun doesn’t hesitate to lean in close to Changbin’s face until they’re nose-to-nose and send him a harsh glare of her own. “When will you get that through that moronic brain of yours!?”
“And when will you realize that whatever this puppy crush, love sick shit you have on him is never gonna happen—”
“Enough!” Chan’s bellow ricochets through your bones. The Alpha shoves the two wolves away from one another before stepping in between their bodies, making sure there is no possible way for them to reach one another without going through him. He glances between the pair with a stern glare, “You two need to calm down. Changbin, take a hike.”
“But, hyung—!”
“That’s an order. Go.”
You barely manage to duck out of his path before Changbin barrels past, likely heading toward the gates of the cemetery. His silhouette eventually becomes one with the raindrops, almost as if he was never here to begin with…
“(Y/N)-noona…?” Reality hits at Youngjae’s soft call of your name. You turn back to the other figures, finding each set of eyes looking in your direction. With your attention, Youngjae continues, “You want to make that call…?”
“Oh. Yeah.” You nod, remembering the phone between your fingers. “I’ll let you know if Sana tells me anything.”
Without waiting for a hum of agreement, you turn on your heel and make your way deeper into the cemetery. You don’t know why you have this sudden need to get as far away from the group as possible, but something in your gut doesn’t sit well with what Changbin had said.
Who is Jackson…?
The name isn’t familiar, nor do you recall Mark ever mentioning a ‘Jackson’. But judging by the tone of both Changbin and Dahyun’s voices, this Jackson is, or was important to them—important to Mark. So why have you never heard about him…? From anyone…?
And why did Changbin say Mark is the reason why Jackson died…?
You don’t realize how far you have traveled until you reach the tall iron fence highlighting where the burial grounds cease. Youngjae and the werewolf pack are long behind you, and you can’t tell whether the relief that spills through your body is a good thing or a bad thing. After wiping the droplets from the screen of your phone, you prepare to do as tasked and phone Sana for whereabouts on Mina. But just as you are about to hit the call button, something else catches your attention.
A jet black, one-winged butterfly glides through the falling rain like a tiny plane. It flutters only mere inches from your nose, playfully beckoning you with its single, rigged appendage before traversing past the graveyard fence toward the ominous forest. You watch, transfixed, as it pauses just in the mouth of the wood… as if waiting for you to follow.
Against your better judgement, you tuck your phone into your pocket and walk closer to the barrier. You somehow manage to scale the slippery fence without fault before sprinting after the deformed butterfly, which flew into the trees as soon as your feet hit the ground outside the cemetery.
The rain is lighter underneath the cover of thick leaves and branches, but it is also much, much darker. It is especially difficult to spot the black insect amongst the gloom, but as if under a spell, you manage to do so. You’re not exactly sure how long you trailed the butterfly, nor do you have any idea where you are, but you can’t seem to care—not when a large, obscure cave comes into sight.
You pause, watching the butterfly drift toward the mysterious cavern, telling you this is where you’re supposed to be.
Way past the point of no return, you enter the pitch black of the cave. Your own steps and the pitter-patter of the rain echo in your ears as you tread deeper into the obscurity, shuffling your feet as to avoid tripping over any awaiting obstacle. You eventually decide to pull out your phone, cursing yourself for not doing so in the first place, and switch on the flashlight setting.
A loud yelp sounds from your throat when your beam of light reveals something that strikes both fear and relief in your heart. Not something… but someone.
Mark lays in a heap on the dry cavern floor. If it were anywhere else, he would seem as if he were sleeping soundly… but he’s in a dark cave. Unconscious and alone.
“Mark!…” You rush to kneel at his side, checking over his body for any possible injuries. You find none, so you attempt to shake him awake, “Mark! Get up!”
Mark doesn’t even stir at your touch.
“Freaking hell, Mark…” You shake your head with a heavy sigh, preparing to grab your phone and call Youngjae, but when you turn to the spot where you left it on the ground, the device is nowhere to be seen. Chills race through your bloodstream like a wave of ice.
“What… the fuck?…”
“I believe you’re looking for this…?” You immediately whirl around at the sudden voice, protectively standing in front of Mark’s incapacitated figure. More panic and dread fill your gut at the sight of a silhouette standing in the mouth of the cave, with what seems to be your phone within their hand.
Trying to mask your fear, you call to the figure with a growl, “Who the fuck are you!? Don’t come any closer!…”
“It’s alright. I’m not going to hurt you.” The more the stranger speaks, the more you swear you can recognize their voice. You keep on your toes as they approach closer and closer, until there’s only a couple feet separating your forms. It’s not until a light appears, right in the palm of the figure’s hand, do you finally match the voice to a face.
Mina smiles softly. “I’ve been waiting for you, (Y/N).”
☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾
He’s running. With no destination in mind. Lungs screaming for oxygen. But he can’t stop. No matter how the rocks and branches tear at his skin. Have to get away. Warm blood spills down his arms and feet. Have to get away before he finds him. Violet and crimson bruises stain his flesh like acid. Have to get away before he finds him and finishes the job. Running deeper and deeper into the black.
Fat droplets spill down his cheeks in scarlet trails. Of terror. Of pain. More tears blur his vision. Colors of all shades meld into one single glow. Every wildflower is grey. Every leaf is grey. Even his blood is grey. He cannot tell which one of four hands is his own. Fingers outstretched. Searching for answers. Searching for comfort.
What has he done to deserve this misery? What merciless deity has subjected him to such violent torment? What has he done to deserve each slap, each broken bone, each lick against his skin? What kind of unkind universe allows a young boy to suffer at the hands of his own father?
His ankle catches in the dip of a rabbit hole. More agony erupts through his veins. Body meeting the hard earth with a pound. It hurts. It HURTS. Sobs are long past uncontrolled now. Maybe he can cry himself an ocean. And drown in the currents of his own tears. His ankle throbs. There would be no more pain. No more suffering then.
A sharp rock would do the job. One stab to the throat and he’s out like a light. It would be so easy. So easy. The stone sears his palm like a handful of ice. Its surface even colder against his neck. His father can’t punish him in death. Can’t find him when he’s gone. He would be safe. Dead. And safe. He presses the point deeper into his skin.
Who would miss him? His mother? His sisters? The villagers of his town? Do they know he’s gone past the territory border? Do they know he’s suffered the wrath of a thousand suns? Do they even care? Will they mourn him? Acknowledge him?… Celebrate his absence?
Echoes of a shrill groan bounce through the trees. His grasp loosens. Blood pools into his collarbones as the rock tumbles back to the earth. Trembling legs bear his weight. Ankle still throbbing. He takes a step forward. Then another. Then another. His hands shake like a helpless rose in a violent windstorm.
There’s someone else in the woods. It’s another boy. Strewn among a bed of dead leaves. Laid within a puddle of his own blood and sweat. Mud clings to every available patch of skin. Like a shadow of nature. Thick pus oozes from his thorn-bounded wrists. He can’t see his face. But he knows the scent of pain.
“Help me, please.” He can’t tell if the voice is the boy’s or his own. Or maybe he’s finally lost his mind. Overthrown by the claws of insanity. Maybe death will come for him now. Bruised. Cracked. Broken. Like a piece of useless trash no one desires. Take him. End his pain now.
“Jinyoung…” The voice is clearer now. Adamant. Death has come. Sweet and merciful. Arms up toward the heavens. Fingers outstretched. Searching for comfort. Searching for relief. Something warm cradles his hand. Tears and blood mix along the canvas of his body. Another call of his name. Distorted. But real. Loving.
“You need to drink this…” Something cold presses against his lips. A sigh escapes. Death really has been his true friend all along. Sweet liquid invades his taste buds. Swallows the thickness like a greedy child. Thank you. Thank you so much.
When Jinyoung opens his eyes, the blurred forest is gone, as is the pain. He searches the dark room for the bearer of his fate, wanting to verbally express his appreciation and pledge his loyalty. However, the face that appears in his vision is neither spiritual nor resemblance of the grim reaper—it is the wounded boy from the forest. Now a man.
“I’m here, brother…” His murmur is faint against Jinyoung’s ears. Soft. His eyelids begin to droop, the same darkness, yet more tame and kind, overtaking the forefront of his mind. He can’t fight it off. Not this time.
The voice continues to lull him, calm him, as Jinyoung slips back into a dreamless sleep.
☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾
“If you’re gonna kill me, then just get it over with.” You hiss, keeping alert as Mina proceeds to pace around the wide, dim cavern. Never before have you felt such anger, such hatred toward another human being, except at this very moment. “Stop playing around like this is some fucking game. I want nothing to do with it.”
“I’m not going to kill you, (Y/N). That’s the last thing I want to do.”
“Yeah? Is that the same thing you told Nayeon before you murdered her?”
Mina’s sigh is neither one of frustration or annoyance. In fact, if you knew any better, you would have thought the sound to be something close to exhaustion.
Your shoulder tense as the witch approaches, maneuvering yourself to shield Mark who lays behind you. Still asleep. Noticing your protective stance, Mina backs off with another sigh and runs a trembling hand across her sweaty forehead.
She murmurs softly, “We weren’t always killers, you know? Momo and I—we used to be innocent… and good.”
For a moment, you merely gape at the witch, unable to conjure up a proper response. Mina ignores your silence, either uncaring or unknowing, and takes a seat across from your frozen form. Still a good amount of distance away. Her eyes glance toward Mark’s unconscious body before turning back to you with a blank expression.
“He’s alright. I put him under a sleeping spell.”
“I don’t understand why you’re doing this?” Your strict, yet inquisitive tone pulls a grimace across her face.
“I knew if I took Mark, I would be able to get you alone… to talk.”
“Why?”
Mina doesn’t answer your question and proceeds to stare off into space. “You know, I was in the foster system for years, always dreaming about the day I would finally quit bouncing from one home to the next.
“I was fourteen when I was adopted, and also when I met Momo.” The weak smile that forms across her lips stirs something inside your gut. “I had always wanted a sister, loving parents, and a home to call my own, which I finally had… It was the best feeling in the world.” She pauses to release a breathy chuckle, “It’s funny—what I would give to go back in time and feel like that again…”
You bite your lip. “What… What happened to them?”
“Our parents were killed by our town’s witch coven in a ritual gone wrong.” Mina whispers, tilting her head and fluttering her eyes closed. A single teardrop escapes her lid, dripping sadness down her flushed cheek. “It was an accident, but the damage had already been done…
“Once Momo found out about her hunter-roots, she became different—vengeful. She slaughtered those witches without so much as batting an eyelash, but it wasn’t enough. She needed to kill again and again and again. ”
“Why didn’t you stop her?”
“Because I couldn’t.” She shakes her head, another droplet trailing down her skin. “After our parents died, she was just so—so heartbroken. I could barely get her out of bed in the mornings, much less make her eat or go out or anything…” You watch sullenly as Mina wipes her eyes before shrugging, “It was like her soul died with them, and the sister I knew and loved was a shell of who she once was.”
You release a sigh of your own. “Until she killed those witches.”
“I convinced myself that it was fair—their lives for our parents. And every other life she—we took, I tried to make up some sort of excuse that it was justified…
“But it became too much.” She says, “After Nayeon, I knew I couldn’t handle anymore death. Not even for Momo.”
Your eyes widen when you realize the shadows along her face are not shadows at all, but her veins gradually appearing in the forms of inky, spider-webbed lines. When she lifts her gaze back to your own, her pupils are dilated to slits and rimmed with jet black irises.
“I knew Momo could never stop killing, so I used every bit of my magic to strip her of her strength long enough to allow the wolf pack to do what should have been done a long, long time ago.”
“Your face… It’s—”
“Dark magic is a funny thing, (Y/N).” Mina laughs sarcastically, tracing the black veins along the back of her hand with the tip of her finger. “The power itself feels so good, like a high that never comes down, but like every drug, you don’t realize it’s killing you until it’s too late.”
Holding back tears, you shake your head. “Why are you telling me all of this?”
“Because you deserve to know what this world does to you.” Mina answers, crawling closer to reach for your hands. You don’t flinch at her abnormally cold touch, nor do you make any fight to pull away.
The witch stares directly into your eyes. “Knowing about the supernatural comes with a price. Your values, your morals—everything you know will be tested at every possible moment, and piece by piece, your soul will chip away to nothing.
“I could sense your humanity the very first time we met.” With a black-lined finger, Mina caresses a tear you hadn’t realized had fallen until then. “You’re different from other mortals… If you go down this path of darkness, then it will destroy you, (Y/N).”
“I don’t understand…” You sob, attempting to cling to Mina’s hands as she begins to pull away.
“You will. One day.” With given effort, she eventually peels herself away from your grasp and retires back to her lonely place in the shadows. She retracts something from the pocket of her jeans, but you can’t make out much through the darkness. Only the gleam of something sharp. Mina offers a weak smile— her lips as black as night.
“I hope you live a long, happy life, (Y/N). Without any of this.”
You watch in horror as the witch lifts a small pocket-knife right beneath her jaw and slices across her throat. Dark blood immediately spurts from the wound and paints her skin and the cavern floor red. Mina’s eyes keep to yours as she garbles and chokes, before the irises themselves grow white and her figure collapses to the ground. She squirms and spasms for a moment or two, then falls uncomfortably silent. Completely still.
Nausea bubbles in your stomach like a tidal wave, and you have to force yourself to look away from the vulgar scene before you vomit. Even then, the sight of the knife dragging across her windpipe and her strangled noises remain at the base of your thoughts. You’re sobbing uncontrollably, you quickly realize, gasping for air and shaking like a madwoman.
“(Y/N)?…”
The husky call awakens you from the beginnings of the anxiety attack. When you peer down, Mark’s eyes are hooded and bleary, but open and alert. He forces himself upright with a pained groan, rubbing at his likely sore shoulders before glancing around the cavern with visible confusions strewn along his features. His gaze immediately stops at the sight behind you, the confusion ebbing to terror, then sympathy.
Mark’s expression is absolutely heartbroken as he returns his focus back to you. “Oh my—(Y/N), I’m so, so sorry…” You practically throw yourself into his awaiting arms with a loud wail, curling into his body like a small child. He holds you tightly, his embrace warm and safe, while murmuring soft assurances into your ear.
“She just—just k-killed herself!.. I couldn’t-couldn’t do any-anything—!”
“Shhh…” Mark cradles the back of your head in his palm, caressing light circles into your scalp with his thumb. “Just don’t think about that right now, okay? Focus on something else—keep talking to me.”
You sharply breathe through your nose, inhaling the various elements of Mark’s scent. Rainwater. Earthiness. His sweet cologne. A gentle hint of lingering bourbon. As you count, the panic in your chest begins to die down… but the trepidation remains.
Your tone is soft, calm when you finally speak again. “Who’s Jackson…?”
Mark’s body deeply tenses underneath your own, his hand freezing its movements upon your head. He pushes you backward to peer at your face, wide-eyed and somewhat frenzied, before humming darkly, “Where did you hear that name?”
“I met the wolf pack earlier and Changbin mentioned a Jackson.” You shake your head, “I’m sorry, I just never remembered you mentioning him and you told me to talk, so I just figured—”
“Hey…” Mark silences your rant with a finger to your lips. “Don’t apologize, okay? Jackson was… my best friend.”
“Was?”
Your companion hesitates. You can see the cogs violently turning in his brain, but before you can tell him to just abandon the subject entirely, he answers:
“He died almost four years ago.”
“Oh, Mark…” You don’t waste a second to wind your arms back around his shoulders, pulling his head tight against your chest. His form trembles beneath your touch, but like a starved man, Mark greedily surrenders to your embrace.
As you’re comforting your best friend, another dreadful thought enters your mind—almost as bad as the repetitive memory of the scenes that occurred just moments before: Mina is dead, and so is Momo.
What will you tell Sana…?
☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾
“I don’t know what we could ever do to repay you guys.” Mark shakes his head, glancing between the circle of wolves with an incredulous expression. Behind him, Youngjae and Jisung both nod in agreement while Lia offers a grateful smile. Chan responds with a grin of his own before moving forward to place a careful hand on Mark’s shoulder.
The Alpha hums, “We protect our own. No payback required.”
“Plus the huntress didn’t even put up a fun fight.” Dahyun snickers, joining Chan in wrapping a tight arm around Mark’s waist. He pats her head as she nuzzles into his chest, releasing an amused chuckle into the torn fabric of his shirt. “Good thing we weren’t in our wolf forms, or we would have literally ripped her to shreds!”
“Dahyun, please.” Yugyeom rolls his eyes, earning another laugh from his sister. The she wolf leans upward to press a kiss to Mark’s cheek and whisper a farewell before exiting the mausoleum to join the other waiting members of the pack outside. Chan follows Dahyun soon afterward, leaving only Yugyeom alone with the witch coven.
Mark sends the wolf a soft glance. “I owe you my life, Gyeom. Thank you.”
“Like Chan said, hyung, we protect our own.” Yugyeom waves off his thanks, though Mark can visibly see the younger male attempting to hold back a smile. “Whether you like it or not, you’ll always have a place with us. Jackson-hyung made sure of that.”
At the mention of his passed friend, Mark is reminded of his conversation with you inside the cavern. For some reason, the mere mention of the name does not strike the usual despair it has in the past. It actually feels good to hear it, he realizes. Maybe he should try saying it himself more often.
“Don’t be a stranger, okay? We still play beer pong every Friday at the cabin.”
“I was always pretty good at bp.” Mark chuckles at the memory, “You and Bam are always the first ones to get shit-faced though.”
“It’s not my fault Bam literally has no skill.”
The head witch tilts his head. “Kind of is… You do pick him as your teammate every game.”
“Not the point.” Yugyeom sends Mark a playful glare while shrugging on his brown leather jacket. Mark follows the youngster to the door, pausing when he directs his goodbyes to the other members of the coven. Once he’s finished, Yugyeom meets Mark’s gaze with a silent sigh before pulling the witch into a tight hug.
“I’ve missed you, hyung.”
“Me too, Gyeom.” Mark confesses, breathing in Yugyeom’s familiar woodsy scent. The fragrance brings back even more pleasant memories that act to warm his heart. He gives the wolf one final squeeze before pushing him away with some reluctance and gestures toward the door. “Better go before Dubu lands herself in a fist fight with Changbin.”
“Don’t even get me started on those two.” Laughing at the expression of pure annoyance across his face, Mark watches as Yugyeom bids him one final farewell and takes off into the pouring rain. In the distance, Mark swears he can hear Dahyun’s headstrong voice telling Chan off for something. The knowledge widens his smile.
But his rush of jubilation is only temporary for Lia’s shrill scold yanks him back to reality:
“—almost got us killed, asshole! What don’t you understand about that!?”
“How was I supposed to fucking know that it was a set-up!?” Minho hisses at the female witch, rising from his perch at the small dining table to enter the disorganized circle of conversation. “You guys made it very clear that my input in everything was useless—”
“Now that’s just bullshit.” Mark interrupts the younger witch, “You were the one who stormed off and have been M.I.A. for the past however many days. The fact that you’re trying to assign blame is fucking stupid.”
Minho scoffs., pointing to Lia. “And what the hell is she doing then!? This is what I mean when I say you take sides—when everyone takes sides! None of you ever take me seriously!”
“How can we when you go out and do stupid shit like this?” Lia growls.
“We’re alive, and the people who killed Nayeon are dead.” Youngjae cuts in, stepping in between the seething pair with a shake of his head. “There’s no reason to fight, okay? We should be celebrating and—”
“I have no desire to celebrate a goddamn thing.”
Mark rolls his eyes as Minho begins to gather his belongings, pushing past Lia with a little more force than what is necessary.
Like Mark, Lia also rolls her eyes. “Gonna run away again and live off the radar for another week or so?”
“Fuck you.”
“Enough!” Mark nearly yells, his mood now at rock bottom. He sends Lia a stern expression, as well as one to a silent Jisung, before pointing toward the door. “It’s been a long day, and we all need some time to process. Go home and sleep on it, alright?”
Lia doesn’t say a word. She only grabs her bag, storms past Mark and Youngjae, and disappears into the storm outside. Close behind, Jisung takes the time to pull on his raincoat and murmur a hushed goodbye, before following in the female witch’s footsteps. Minho goes to leave as well, but before he can make it past the doorway, Mark blocks his path.
The former addresses him in a hiss, “What the fuck now?”
“We need to talk—”
“No, we don’t. Cause I’m done.”
Mark raises an eyebrow, “What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means I want nothing to do with you fuckers anymore.” Minho seethes with the most piercing glare Mark has ever seen, “Consider me self-exiled.”
Mark has more to say, but Minho literally shoves his way out the door. For a second, Mark debates on whether or not he should run after the witch, and convince him to reconsider his decision. But he decides against it. Minho needs time. And so does Mark.
“She used what is called the Sleeping Beauty spell to put you in a coma.” Mark tears his gaze away from Minho’s retreating silhouette and faces his remaining company. Somewhere in the midst of his confrontation with the younger witches, Youngjae had retreated to the lectern and flipped through an Encyclopedia of Spells.
Mark approaches the siphoner as he continues, “She bound your consciousness to her life force. So only when she died, you could awaken.”
“Makes sense.” The head witch collapses onto the sofa with a loud sigh, “One minute I was watching Jinyoung take a bullet for me, and the next I was in that cave with (Y/N).”
A small moment of silence passes. Mark relishes the peace, propping his suddenly heavy head on the palm of his hand. The quiet, like his positive mood, doesn’t remain as Youngjae eventually breaks it:
“How was she? (Y/N)?”
Mark shrugs. “She was… traumatized. It was a lot for her.”
“But she’ll be okay? Right?” Youngjae joins Mark on the couch, tracing the patterns of the cushions with a worried expression. “You don’t think she’ll… leave Moon Dye?”
“I honestly don’t know, Youngjae.” The head witch offers the siphoner a lost glance, trying to ignore the obnoxious pounding inside his head. An aspirin and a nice, long fifteen hour sleep sounds like a dream in heaven. “I hope not.”
“Me too.”
The silence returns. Mark takes the time to flutter his eyes closed and lean his head back into the sofa. Exhaustion immediately overtakes his mind like a vice, ensnaring his physical body in the need to rest—which is kind of ironic, since he had been in a deep, deep sleep only hours prior.
“Hey, hyung?”
Mark hums, not bothering to open his eyes.
He hears Youngjae inhale a shaky breath before whispering, “I thought… I thought I lost you…”
At the siphoner’s pained tone, Mark immediately opens his eyes and turns to his companion. Youngjae refuses to meet his gaze, finding interest in the loose threads among the couch cushions. Mark doesn’t push him to do so, nor does he really need to. With a heavy heart and an even heavier headache, he merely murmurs to the siphoner:
“You won’t ever lose me, Youngjae… Not if I can help it.”
☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾
You’ve never exactly known what it’s like to live a stable life.
As a child, you were stuck in the foster care system since the day you were basically born, never having met the people who brought you into the world. No one ever told you the identity of your parents, not that you ever wanted to find out. Knowing your own mother left you, a newborn barely a day old, on the doorstep of a local church is enough to warrant your fair share of loathing toward the woman. Intense loathing.
You were never adopted, but once you hit sixteen, you filed for emancipation and set out for a life of your own. For the first couple years, you bounced back and forth between cities, taking up job opportunities as they came and working toward good enough grades in order to eventually qualify for an academic scholarship. You achieved just that, attended a university remote, and graduated with both your bachelors and masters. It wasn’t easy, but you did it. All on your own.
Moon Dye Bay was just supposed to be another temporary fix, then you met Mark that day in Poison Square, and for once you actually looked forward to staying in the mysterious, little town for longer than usual…
That was before you witnessed a woman slit her own throat.
So maybe after you and Mark parted ways in the cemetery, the thought of leaving town crossed your mind. In fact, you were more than ready to pack up your bags and make a beeline for the bus transit. However, the moment you entered your apartment to find Sana sobbing on the kitchen floor… your plans changed. Even more so when she told you that Jihyo had left in a panic after ranting and raving about tattoos and magic.
Jihyo is gone. Momo and Mina are dead. Sana is devastated.
Moon Dye Bay continues to see you for another day.
You inhale the final gulp of your tea before depositing the mug back on your nightstand and slipping underneath your bed covers. Today was the shittiest day you’ve ever experienced, which is saying a lot. All you wish to do is sleep everything away and deal with the emotional baggage tomorrow. Hopefully Mina’s foreboding words won’t follow you into your dreams.
With a sigh of relief, you lean back into the pillows and curl tighter underneath the weight of the blankets. You try to clear your thoughts as much as possible while rolling onto your side. Drowsiness immediately clouds your senses the moment you reach a comfortable position. Preparing to surrender to the darkness that calls, you move to close your eyes, but something catches your attention in the corner of your room.
You peer toward the area, unable to make out much through the thick shadows. Unfortunately, you know your brain won’t rest until you discover the source of movement. It’s probably just a trick of the moon, but just in case, you reach over to your nightstand and switch on the small reading light atop its surface.
It’s not a trick of the moon… because there’s a man standing in the corner of your room, staring straight at you.
Paralyzed with a blend of fear and shock, you’re unable to do anything but stare back at the stranger. His dark eyes widen to saucers after a long moment of silence, and even amongst the shadows, you can tell his expression is one of surprise.
“Can you… Can you see me?” His husky voice proves his bewilderment, but does little to settle yours. Instead, his strange question only sends more warning bells raging throughout your head.
You somehow find your words, but they come out in little above a squeak. “Who the hell are you!?…”
“My name is Jackson… and you’re the first person I’ve talked to in a long, long time…”
#got7#got7 fanfic#got7 fic#got7 imagines#got7 x reader#got7 angst#got7 fluff#got7 smut#got7 au#im jaebeom#im jaebeom x reader#im jaebeom fanfic#mark tuan#mark tuan x reader#mark tuan fanfic#jackson wang#jackson wang x reader#jackson wang fanfic#park jinyoung#park jinyoung x reader#park jinyoung fanfic#kpop fanfic#kpop au
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“Blissfully Blizzard”: Alpha! Steve Rogers Imagine
Steve Rogers Imagine
Alpha!Steve Rogers
Omegaverse Headcanons/Imagine
Alpha!Steve Rogers x Omega!Plus Size Reader
Winter Imagine: Stuck in a Blizzard
(Yes, I know it's Fall {N. Hemisphere} No, I'm not trying to rush it. Geez.) Enjoy!
Imagine getting stuck in a blizzard with Steve (aka Mother Hen).....
You were trying so hard not to roll your eyes at Steve as you looked out the window of the car into the pure white gusts of snow and icy wind.
Theoretically, Steve being the super soldier he was could've got out and went for help or even pushed the car for that matter- no sweat.
However, there was no way in hell he would leave you here alone.
Not a chance.
"This was supposed to be relaxing." he grumbled.
Clearly he was irritated and you could feel it coming off him in waves.
Normally, as your Alpha that would have your little Omega self dizzy with anxiety ....but you weren't some delicate flower.
You could at least hold your shit together.
As much as popularized Omega culture would like to force everyone to believe that all Omegas were these frail, useless little waifs who can't survive without an Alpha....you didn't buy it.
Never had.
Hell, you hadn't even HAD an Alpha for most of your life until Steve...and you'd only been with him like two years.
Your father bailed after a one night stand turned very real and you're badass Beta mom got shit done.
She raised you to believe in yourself without fail.
She was also in the military and didn't take no for an answer so you now, there's that.
Anyway, you Mr. Soft Blue Eyes over there years ago and he'd been trailing after you like a pup ever since.
Kind of ironic in a way and man, the courtship had been something awful.
You didn't have time for Alphas and he had to do a whole lot of convincing for you to even give him the time of day.
What really sold you was when you realized who he was.
Not that he was Captain America.
In all honesty, you couldn't give a flying fuck about that.
But that he was Steve Rogers- that skinny, stubborn little shit from Brooklyn who never backed down from a fight.
That was what had your attention.
Of course, when he figured out that this was what got your attention....he basically fell in love with you on the spot.
Back to the original point.
He was irritated and you were trying not to let it affect you.
"Well it's kind of relaxing, babe." you offered. "The snow is pretty and I like the sound of the wind. We've got the heat on. There's snacks in the back and an extra blanket or two. And you know I always like being in close quarters with you."
He smiled a bit but gave you a look.
He knew what you were doing ...and he loved you for it.
"You're really trying to make the best out of a sucky situation here aren't you?" he chuckled as he looked down and shook his head.
"Might as well." you said with a shrug before turning around and promptly diving into the back of the SUV.
All he heard was a bunch of noise for a second before a bag was produced in front of his face...yours following it just a second later with a grin.
"Plus we have hot cheetos." you said. "And thanks to ME! We also have all of the leftovers from the fridge this week. Which I conveniently heated up in the oven before we left and kept warm in my handy dandy thermal bag. And you said it was a waste! Ha!"
A few more seconds of you shoving things around and Steve began to shake his head.
"Are you doing what I think you're doing?" he asked narrowing his eyes at you.
"Shut up." you said pulling the lever and lowering the seats down into the floor.
Silently, you thanked Sam for convincing you to upgrade your vehicle into this fancy schmancy little situtation.
"In the middle of a blizzard?" Steve asked.
"Shut it." you said as you found your beloved blanket....and the six pillows that you'd vacuumed sealed down and then hid under the seats.
Steve died laughing.
"Are you serious?" he was basically choking on his own spit in the front seat.
You turned around and placed your hands on your hips.
Well as best you could while you were hunched over the back of the vehicle trying to build the perfect nest.
"Listen here, Captain Spandex. I am an Omega. You know this. I know this. Everyone fucking knows this. This means that wherever I go, whatever I do....I will bring a certain amount of shit along with me to nest. It's a fact. This also means that whilst we're stuck under this damn pavillion in the middle of bumfuck-nowhere-ville with a blizzard around us....I'm going to fucking nest!" you snapped.
Ok, so ...you're emotions and slight worry in the situation had actually began to creep up on you.
It would anyone really.
Hell, even Steve and he was an Alpha.
When he finally caught the scent of it...he bit him bottom lip.
"Hey, babe." he said reaching out and gently touching your elbow. "Baby, I didn't mean anything by it. I was just teasing. I'm actually really happy and grateful. You being you kind of makes this whole situation a lot better."
You just nodded silently.
That was one thing about being an Omega that really chapped your ass.
As much as you prided yourself on keeping your emotions in check and not needing anyone....sometimes you flew off the handle.
It pissed you off so badly that sometimes you'd spent hours at the shooting rage just blasting through as much as you can.
Steve called it your Rage Monster.
You called it Stress Relief...because you're a fucking lady.
Hmph.
He gently pulled you over to him and planted a kiss on your cheek.
He knew better than to go back there until you had your nest the way you wanted it.
It would make you severely angry and upset...and of course he didn't want that.
He nuzzled his nose into your neck and placed a few kisses there all the while drawing his hand down your back.
"I swear, baby." he said. "I just thought you were being cute. I always think you're cute when you're in nest mode."
You blinked at him a few times really grateful for the close proximity.
His scent really could calm you down like no other.
"Well then." you said. "I'm about to be positively adorable."
And with that you smacked him in the face with one of the pillows.
"Fluff and scent, please." you instructed before turning back to your nesting.
Steve did as you asked and just watched you work.
Fourty five minutes later and he had to admit that you'd created a little haven in the back of the SUV.
He'd been put on fluffing and scenting duty and instructed to set all the hot food in the floorboard so that the heat could blow on it and keep it warm.
You'd arranged the blankets six times before you were satisfied and hung up extra clothes over the back windows for privacy and to piece together a projection screen.
You just knew that battery charged projecter port would be useful.
And Steve said you would never use it.
Hmph, Etsy can solve everything.
What did he know?
#you'rekindofaddictedtoshopping #hoarder
When he was done he just sat there and watched you sit in the middle of it all.
"Is it ready?" he asked.
"Maybe." you said with a little laugh. "Please hand me the food?"
Steve passed you all the food that required heat and let you set it up how you wanted before he climbed in the back with you.
Having the good sense to leave his shoes and yours in the front under in the floor board.
God forbid, he bring dirty shoes into your nest.
He'd likely lose a toe if he did.
"This looks amazing." he praised you and had to hold back his 'aww' when you involuntarily and unknowingly purred.
A purring Omega was an happy Omega.
You busied yourself with setting up plates of food for the both of you and getting a movie ready to project from your lap top to the makeshift projector screen of tshirts, lol.
He teased you for all your junk and how much stuff you supposedly had to be prepared for.
But in reality he loved it.
This time it worked out that ya'll actually needed it.
But in reality, he just loved you because you actually cared enough to think about stuff like that.
Everyone always said how lucky you were to have Captain America as your Alpha.
But Steve Rogers knew he was the lucky one.
He'd been blessed by the gods, won the lottery, whatever you'd like to call it...because you actually wanted him.
So no, the romantic evening hadn't gone as planned but as he looked around the back of the SUV and took it all in...he suddenly didn't miss it.
Hot leftovers from all the different things the two of you had eaten that week.
A cute little Disney movie projected on several white t-shirts.
A comfy nest of pillows, blankets and jackets.
And most importantly, you.
His sweet, cuddly little darling, just waiting for him to wrap his arms around.
Suddenly, he was very fond of this blizzard after all.
Heeeeeey, smoochies! I hope you enjoyed this little Steve imagine! Alpha! Steve and Omega! Plus Size Reader is one of my favorites! And while it's just fall here in the US ...I have quite the love affair with winter in my heart. I live for the colder months. Anyway, I was listening to some beautiful winter sounds this morning and just had to share this little number floating around in my head! If you like it and want more Alpha! Steve and Omega! Plus Size Reader please be sure to let me know in the comment section! Happy Reading!
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Love, Kenny
#steve rogers#steven grant rogers#steve rogers imagine#captain america imagine#plus size reader#reader insert#ps reader#marvel imagine#steve rogers headcanons#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x ps reader#steve rogers x plus size reader#captain american x reader#captain america headcanons#captain america x ps reader#captain america x plus size reader#marvel headcanons#marvel x reader#marvel x ps reader#marvel x plus size reader#alpha#alpha imagine#alpha!steve rogers#omega!reader#alpha x omega#alpha! steve rogers x omega! reader#omega! plus size reader#omega reader#omega plus size reader#plus size omega
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