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#may or may not have cried while drawing

snakerdoodlle · 1 year

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Cry if you feel like it

There’s been this audio going around and it reminded me of Maven so I really wanted to make something with it :D this is basically him talking to his younger self, maybe once he realizes what his mother did to him was wrong? Idk but hey!! Cool stuff!!

⭐️ No reposts

#red queen series #red queen #maven calore #rq fanart #fanart #procreate #I may have cried while drawing this #last 2 frames got me fucked up

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neixins · 2 years

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Shen Zechuan failed to grasp hold of anything as the blood swallowed him up in the inundated sinkhole. The terror of drowning swept over him. He could not breathe. All he could do was struggle and look on helplessly as that faint light died out.

“Shen Lanzhou—!”

Xiao Chiye scooped up Shen Zechuan. Those sturdy shoulders of his could stand up against the assault of the storm. He brought with him the light of the blazing sun, and he used the strong wind to sweep this dark, gloomy world clean, dispelling the snowstorm. He was scorching hot, so scalding that there was no room for anything else around Shen Zechuan.

#the whole chashi sinkhole flashback sequence.....Harrowing! i may or may not have cried myself into a headache #but also xiao chiye coaxing him out of it and being so sweet and the 'lanzhou come back. come back to me' 😭❤️#i'm gonna lose it #u know that image of the little girl crying while drawing? that's me trying to work on my assignments after this #also like. i've wondered since the beginning why shen zechuan was even near the chashi sinkhole initially..............well now i know :(#qjj

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dokirosi · 6 months

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Everyone believes in STEVEN UNIVERSE Happy 10th anniversary Steven Universe!

10 years ago today! TEN YEARS AGO TODAY !!!!! Steven Universe AIRED! And EVERYTHING CHANGED!!

While drawing this I kept trying to find a way to describe how much this show mean to me, and I get too emotional everytime. I love it so much, from the jokes, the amazing visuals, the SONGS!! Yes I heard the entire discography while drawing this and sang and CRIED bc this show. THIS SHOW. It’s an emotional catharsis and pays off EVERYTIME. I met so many wonderful friends through this show, I learned so much and grew, and forgave, and let go. I may not ever find words to describe the feeling I have for this show, but sometimes things are not meant to be described but EXPERIENCED. And what a wonderful, heartwarming, tearjerking and FUN experience it is to watch it.

Crying. Singing and crying.

#steven universe #steven universe fanart #steven universe 10th anniversary

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st4rrth0ughts · 4 months

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Hello! I came across you from the fic Dr. Ratio x quantum tentacles, and since this fic I have been serving on your blog! I absolutely love the way you write!! I also love your ideas, God, they are great! If requests are open ,would it be difficult for you to write a fic about Argenti?No matter what happens!(but I still have an idea about the Knight of Beauty!Reader in this fic)I just love him so madly!😭💞

And if there is an anon emoji feature, can I be "🌾" anon?

(I apologize if there are errors in the text! If you don’t like it, you can ignore it!)

my first anon <33

A/n: im in the middle of a Argenti drabble coincidentally during this req, so i hope you dont mind half swarm monster reader as well :33 tw, cw: monsterfucking, reader is literally half monster, i may not may not have indulged in a little too much twitter art iykyk

breeding Argenti would be lovely, no? 🛡️🌹

Argenti was your fellow knight of beauty. Really, he says Idrilla is the most beautiful, but in your half monster eyes, he's the only beautiful and worthy object of your affection. Even in your freakish state, he came up to you, and proclaimed you the most beautiful person he's set his eyes on. You loved him, more than Idrilla.

He's so cute when your fucking him, he's strong, no doubt, but Aeons, he's so soft when he jerking you off. The way he gently bobs his head when he takes your first length in his mouth, the way his palm gently fists your cock, pretty green eyes welling up with tears as you hit the back of his throat, whining a little as you fist his hair. He diligently takes your other cock into his mouth, somehow only gagging slightly as your hips buck back involuntarily into his mouth. The knight's red hair is sticking to his face as he moans softly around your cocks, his hand reaching down to gently finger his clit as his throat bulges ever so slightly from you. He lets out a soft whimper as he comes, slick dripping down his thigh when you release into his throat, shocking you a little when he swallows it all without gagging. This man, he'll be the death of you.

The way his head throws back when he whimpers out while your forked tongue explores his cunt, spreading his legs wider as he combs his fingers through your hair, thighs trembling as your tongue finds his cervix, letting out a loud sound as you start to fuck it roughly, your sharp fingers tracing over his clit, making him come as he falls back on the mattress weakly, panting heavily as he watches you lick his pussy so tenderly, flushing slightly in embarrassment as you flash him a silly grin. His legs wrap weakly around your waist, his voice softly begging you to fuck him silly. Your two cocks harden again as your features show in all its glory, sharp fangs, glowing red eyes and sharper fingers than your normal ones.

The knight almost regrets it, but at the same time, holy shit, he wouldn't mind being ruined like this every night. You have both your cocks in him, one fucking his ass and the other in his cunt, fucking his cervix silly as he muffled his wails in the pillow, your fingers digging into his waist, piercing his skin, his blood making your instincts go absolutely wild. He trembles as your sharp teeth sink into his neck, drawing blood. Another sharp shriek escapes his throat when he squirts around the cock in his cunt, his eyes rolling back as his back arches into your body. Pulling out the cock in his ass, and shoving it alongside the one in his pussy as his mouth opens in a silent scream as he struggles to take in your length, babbling dumbly about how it was too much. Nonsense, you think as your hips slam into him, fascinated by the loud cries and squeals that comes out of him while he's being pounded into the bed by you.

Pumping load after load into him, his mind is completely hazy, merely filled with the thought of being your pretty mate. He cries out as he squirts around your cocks again for the nth time, fat drops of tears dripping down his face, the knight is drooling as you trace a hand over the bulge of cum and your cocks in the stomach, your instincts to mate going haywire as a low growl escapes your throat. His eyes widen as he feels your knot, as he bucks his hips back onto you, soft pleas and groans of wanting your knot. Well, since he's begging so sweetly, its not in your place to say no, is it?

Yeah, he definitely underestimated it. He's shrieking, choked gasps escaping him as he takes your knot, sobbing as he comes again, his body spasming in pure overstimulation, the lewd sounds coming out of his mouth was unlike anything you've ever heard, it was lovely. Your knot, keeping your seed inside your pretty mate, who's laying limp against the bed, soft sounds of contentment escaping his lips. So pretty. Reaching down, you bite his neck, leaving a mark. The knight shivers slightly, he's yours now. And he wouldn't have it any other way.

#✪fics!#✪anon!#✦honkai star rail!#sub honkai star rail #sub hsr #dom male reader #dom reader #honkai star rail smut #sub character #dom gn reader #hsr smut #sub argenti #argenti hsr #argenti x reader #monster reader #we need more sub argenti

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hor3nee · 1 month

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• Fatherhood •

What kind of dads are the JJK men ?

CW/TW: GN! Reader, Mentions of crappy parenting, BREIF mention of pregnancy in Geto's, (Lmk if I should add anything else!)

Characters: Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Sukuna, Toji x Reader

AN: Almost cried writing this the baby fever is going HARD rn dude. Headcanons !

• Gojo •

Menace of a father, but in the good way! Gojo spends his years raising his kids as if he's their best friend, truly and genuinely treats his kids as equals and in a sweet way, allows his children to have complete trust in him. Because Gojo is quite childish himself, he loves playing with his kids, making a fool of himself, and indulging with them.

Has a bit of a bad side to this though, his lack of traditional discipline or making himself the 'adult' in the situation leads the kids to both be very spoiled and not really ever listen to him.

"Sweetheart, darling, my perfect angel, can you please go to bed?? pretty please! Help your old man here, please??"

"Nuh uh!" And with that bout of defiance, he's back to running up to you, like HE'S the child, begging for your help. Because it seems you're the only one who can get the kids in line, and you do.

Plays pranks and teases the hell out of his kids as they get older, always in a loving way of course, but nonetheless loves getting them flustered over his stupidity. Type of dad to do dumbass dances in the middle of a Walmart to embarrass his kids.

• Geto •

Geto is optimum of what it means to be a gentle parent. Cannot, for the life of him, bring it in himself to yell at his kids. He's so soft-spoken, never so much as raising his voice against his children. Geto has children who respond to his voice alone, because it's so lulling, he's familiarized them with it and made them feel safe with it.

Doesn't mean he can't discipline them, of course he can, and he does so extremely gracefully. Whenever you're on your last straw with the kids, fighting the urge to start scolding them and yell, he steps in, smoothly taking over and the kids instantly listen to him.

"We're your parents, honey, c'mon that's not very nice to say, is it? They carried you for 9 months you know. Say sorry." Like magic the kids shut up and come over to you apologizing while Geto stands back, calmly having fixed the situation with ease.

With everything Geto does, has done, experienced etc, he can sometimes feel conflicted. Geto knows what he is capable of, and what he has done, he's extremely self-aware even if he justifies it, and he can struggle to balance the weight of all of it while also remaining a dutiful father.

Despite it, he does wonders keeping it separate from what his children have to see or experience, teaches them respect and kindness and hopes they hold true to it.

• Nanami •

Not a single man on this list fathers as hard as Nanami fathers. He's built for it like no other. Nanami treats fatherhood with his all, he puts his all into it and makes damn certain he does right by it. Stern when necessary, sweet when needed, provides for his kids and refuses to miss any important milestone of theirs.

Nanami is a calm man but the second work starts piling potentially making him miss his kids school play or something he's arguing with his supervisors and ready to throw hands.

He keeps the drawings his kids make on his desk, alongside a photo of you and your kids. Literally just stares at it while working smiling, unable to wait till he's home with the kids. They are his pride and joy genuinely.

No matter how over-worked Nanami may be though, when he comes home you are basically on vacation. Insists you rest and he takes over literally everything involving the kids.

"Darling, darling no, I got this covered. You take rest. You know I love spending time with my kids." He says with an earnest smile, both kids in his beefy arms just dangling around and playing with their father. He's definitely exhausted from work, but that never stops him.

• Sukuna •

The King of the Curses, as cruel and terrifying as he is, taking pleasure in all sorts of sickness and treating love as pointless, legitimately likes his kid.

He doesn't care about fatherhood, or the responsibilities that being a parent entails, but it's nice having a mini version of himself around. That he likes. An extension of himself and you, it's nice to have around he doesn't mind it. He may act aloof about it, not outwardly showing affection like hugs or kisses, but he clearly enjoys it.

He gets a massive ego trip when his kids cause chaos and disturbances. Points at them laughing with his belly "See that? That's mine."

Sukuna never minces his words though, and his kids have to get used to his bluntness. Again, he doesn't care for the concept of 'parenting', and will in their face call the kid some extreme insults and weak and they have to learn to take it.

On the flip side, Sukuna also never minces his praise, and Sukuna has an abundance to give his kids. Every accomplishment or show of strength that they show he'll let them know he's proud. A good ol' fashioned fatherly slap to their shoulder while he praises them.

He treasures his children, and even if he doesn't put much effort into parenting them, you taking over most of it, he's definitely a present figure in their lives.

• Toji •

Went to get milk, hasn't been seen since.

#sukuna x reader #gojo x reader #geto x reader #nanami x reader #satoru gojo x reader #geto suguru x reader #suguru geto x reader #nanami kento x reader #kento nanami x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #gojo saturo x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #sukuna x you #gojo x you #geto x you #dad!sukuna

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p0ckykiss · 7 months

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baby i'm yours - choi yeonjun

summary - yeonjun can't think of not being by your side and you wouldn't have it any other way.

genre - fluff, falling in love, friends to lovers, sharing a room, yeonjun is whipped

"you've been clingy lately. is there something going on that i don't know about?"

yeonjun opts to shake his head, never once letting go of you who's currently squished under the heavy weight of yeonjun's body. yeonjun was left feeling the need to barge into his best friend's room and quite literally tackle you in bed. looking back at it, he figures it's due to the fact that you haven't spent as much time as before, both of you busy with individual schedules and when you did have your free time, you would either be fast asleep or on lenghty calls with your family.

yeonjun isn't upset over that.

this is one of the rare occasions, he thinks. finally getting you alone, all to himself. he missed this.

"you're lucky i already showered." your giggle makes yeonjun shuffle even closer, wrapping his arms around your warm body.

"i would've cuddled you in the shower, too. absolutely no problem."

"i have no doubts about that."

it's been proven to be a real challenge to stay away from you, even for a few minutes. he doesn't like to think of himself as a baby that needs constant attention but it may very well be the case with you and your calming presence. practically glued to your side, he closes his eyes and preens at the way his freshly washed hair is being carded through, long and gentle fingers massaging his scalp from time to time. his whole body goes limp, melting against you when your other hand lays on his broad back and works the stiffness out of his muscles. you lay like that for a while in silence, save for yeonjun's content sighs and your words of appraisal.

"i'm starting to think that you missed me real good."

yeonjun nuzzles his face further in your neck, pulling a breathy laugh from you beneath him at the ticklish movement.

"of course I did." he murmurs against your skin, voice low and affectionate. "didn't you miss me, too, ynie?" one of his hands moves from your waist and slides under your shirt, drawing circles on your skin with his finger. your chuckles turn to full blown laughter and yeonjun's heart soars.

"hey! stop that, it tickles!"

still wriggling and laughing, you try to push yeonjun off the bed. it proves to be a real challenge when he sprawls his body entirely over yours and knocks the breath out of your lungs.

"not until you say it too. do you know how hurt I am? unrequited feelings are no joke, y/n." he fake cries and you slap his back playfully.

"i missed you too, dumbass."

"now can you please move before you kill me?"

yeonjun does as told and settles back beside you, satisfied with himself as your warmth envelopes him again.

"i really mean it, yeonjun. i missed you a lot."

yeonjun can hear the smile in your voice and his heart does a somersault. he knows this feeling all too well.

"i know."

-----

----

"that's not fair! i've been playing this game for months, struggling and wasting all my nights to get this far! what about you? you just waltzed in here and swooped every critical fighter like the sly predatory bird you are!"

"how is that my fault? It's about being lucky, and clearly, luck hasn't been on your side but mine!"

"i'm about to swing this controller at you, beomgyu! don't try me, you know I'd do it."

"oh yeah? do it then."

woken up from the commotion downstairs, you sigh heavily and make your way towards the living room, immediately welcomed by two arguing boys. beomgyu and soobin, having another quarell over video games, while the rest of your roommates watch with either amusement or exasperation. your eyes scan the area until they eventually seize yeonjun's figure in the kitchen, having a glass of water. on your way to the kitchen you pass by an exhausted taehyun who pats your shoulder and moves to break the two rascals apart. you can only laugh at his poor attempts to get beomgyu off soobin's back.

pulling your gaze away from the guys, you return to staring at the object of your affection. yeonjun seems to be spacing out again, that hilarious blank expression making you shake your head in amusement. his hair sticks out in all directions and the urge to run your fingers through it is strong enough to make you do just that. approaching him silently as to not spook him, you settle behind him and caress his soft hair, making him look at least a bit presentable. yeonjun leans against you by instinct and nuzzles his head in the soft hoodie of his best friend.

"morning, sleepyhead. spacing out again?"

yeonjun sets the empty glass on the counter and turns around to circle his arms around your middle. almost falling off his chair, yeonjun looks extremely comical and you move just a bit forward to accomodate him.

"morning.." he mumbles. "the roommates woke me up."

"yeah, me too. was hoping on sleeping in for at least a few more hours."

"well, plans ruined."

"we can do something else today though. what do you say about shopping?"

the simple offer has yeonjun bouncing on his feet and all ready to go despite it being only morning. the excitement is infectious, you can feel it seep through your skin and gradually, a fond smile takes over your features.

"i'm suddenly not sleepy anymore. let's have breakfast and go."

"ramen?"

"ramen."

------

"how about this one?"

yeonjun points at a somewhat simple yet fancy silver bracelet that has an infinity symbol carved on it in the color black. he thinks it looks nice enough to show it to you so he beckons you over with a smile.

you've been shopping for clothes for approximately two hours, scanning rows and rows of clothes ranging from casual to something more expensive. both of your wardrobes needed a refresh and so it wasn't a problem of spending too much or buying too many articles. you both share a common interest for fashion, things went smoothly but there's something missing. accessories. matching ones at that.

you peek over your shoulder with great interest, eyes practically glowing at the sight of the stylish bracelet and matching necklace.

"it's cool and all but.." you snicker. "look at the price tag, yeonjun. it's crazy."

"do you like it?"

you start twirling your hair, something you do when you're embarrassed. "i mean, yeah, who wouldn't? it's totally my style. but we can't waste so much money on this. we'll go broke in no time." you laugh, pat yeonjun's shoulder and move towards the exit of the shop, seemingly ready to return to your shared apartment.

yeonjun can't possibly go home without buying the matching set and so he approaches the cashier.

"uhm, hello. may i purchase these?"

the lady looks up at him with a knowing smile. "is it a present for the person who's waiting outside?"

he can feel his face heat up at the implication of her words. "something like that. y/n really likes the bracelet."

"is that so? i happened to hear your conversation earlier." she leans closer to whisper. "we don't normally do this thing but i can make an exception for you two and sell these to you at a lower price."

"are you sure? i wouldn't want you to get in trouble-"

"it's no problem."

she's still all smiles and sunshine as she wraps up the accessories and gives them to yeonjun. he tucks them safely in his bag and thanks her a million times before finally leaving the shop and joining you. you look up at him dubiously, eyeing the bags in his hands.

"what took you so long?"

"i was..looking around some more."

"really?"

you start walking back home and the nervousness of carrying your present is enough to make his legs go limp. what will be your reaction upon seeing that he bought the matching set after all? you couldn't possibly be mad, right? he sure hopes so.

"yeah, really."

-----

freshly out of the shower, yeonjun lays in the comfort of his bed and fiddles with the bag that shelters what he just bought for you. you are still showering, he can hear the water running and the groovy tune of a song that he's been listening to lately. your voice sounds a bit muffled yet yeonjun can discern a few words here and there and the more he listens, the more his nerves subside and he finds himself spacing out a second time that day. surely nothing can go wrong, he tells himself. he'll confidently reveal the gift, place the bracelet around your wrist then wear his own necklace and call it a day.

you've always talked about wearing something memorable for the both of you and this is the perfect time for it.

he doesn't know how much time has passed but it must've been a while because in front of him stand you, hair already dry, skin flushed from the steam in the shower, comfortable sweatpants and a loose shirt already on. with a quick shake of his head, yeonjun smiles at the confused look you give him.

"seriously, what's up with you? you've been spacing out again." you point out, seemingly amused. "and why are you gripping that bag?"

"close your eyes?"

"what did you do this time, yeonjun?"

"please just close them. you'll find out."

as soon as you do as told, his hands fumble with the fancy bag and pull out the small box that holds both the bracelet and necklace, a sappy smile already on his face. he's buzzing with excitement at the prospect of him and you growing even closer.

"it's been two minutes. can I open them already?" your right leg is shaking, anxiety bubbling beneath your skin.

"oh, sorry. open them."

you take a while to adjust to whatever you're seeing in yeonjun's hand. you see the small, sophisticated box along with what's in it and you freeze. the bracelet you just saw at the shop earlier today. and a matching necklace. your palms start to sweat and your heartbeat picks up speed at the gesture. silly yeonjun can't resist buying things that you like, no matter what anyone else says. you should've known better. yeonjun is incredibily stubborn when he wants to be. you look up at him and searches his eyes, all full of adoration, pride and excitement. your heart swells, barely concealing the smile that only seems to grow wider when yeonjun fiddles with his fingers and waits for a reaction.

"you said you liked it and i..bought it. even though you said i shouldn't. i couldn't help it. if you don't want it i can return it-"

"you're a real piece of work, you know that?" you let out a breathy laugh and shuffle closer to yeonjun's flushed face, scanning each and every detail of it, engraving it in your mind. no one else has ever gone to such lenghts to make you happy. "you never listen to me, do you?"

yeonjun gulps when your fingers caress the side of his face, falls into a deep trance the more he looks into your eyes.

"i wanted to make you happy." he murmurs, closing his eyes as soon as your lips touch his forehead.

"i am happy just being here with you. material things don't have the same effect you have on me, you know? sure, they do look nice, but they could never replace you." he lets himself be pulled into your arms. "i can appreciate the meaning behind your gift though. never took you for the romantic type."

yeonjun chuckles and traces a finger across your wrist. the bracelet is carefully being clasped around it and it suits you so well that he mentally pats himself on the back.

"i can be anything you want, y/n."

your heartbeat picks up speed at the implication, hands shaking as you place the silver necklace around yeonjun's neck. pretty, you think.

"anything? are you sure?" a teasing lilt accompanies your voice. you push forward, testing the waters between you. yeonjun doesn't step back.

"when have I ever been unsure?"

"what if I want you to be my boyfriend?"

yeonjun's breath stutters in his chest, alarms ringing in his head as he pulls just slightly away to come face to face with your pretty face. though unexpected, he's not entirely surprised. the tension has always been there somewhere around you. a bit too close to be just best friends, ever since the beginning.

"i'd gladly be."

your lips form a teasing smile, all inviting and soft. yeonjun glances down then back up, a silent hint. you take it, of course you do. shuffling even closer, yeonjun is once again reminded of how enamored he is, of how much he'd do for you.

"is that so? prove it."

yeonjun does just that. he immediately closes the small gap between you and seizes your lips in a searing kiss, stealing all your breath away. your hands find each other, intertwining and holding tight, lips chasing each other with the fervor of feelings being hidden all these years. intoxicating, yeonjun quickly realizes. you use the advantage of your better position to push even closer to yeonjun, running fingers through his hair as your lips part and gasps for air fill the silence in the room. neither of you move an inch away, simply staring in each other's eyes, bracelet and necklace somewhat glowing under the soft lights.

"so? are you mine yet?" yeonjun's teeth comes into view with how wide he's smiling and you are forced to squash the urge to hug him so tight that your bodies morph into one.

thinking back on it, you figure you've always been each other's. a silent agreement. despite voicing it out just now, you have always known.

"i think i've been yours since the first time i saw you."

"augh, that was a bit too much."

"shut it, yeonjun."

this is just another step into their journey. nothing will change between you and you are sure you'll only grow closer as time passes.

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bimbobaggins69 · 7 months

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𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖋𝖑𝖊𝖘𝖍

succubus steve x eddie munson x girlfriend reader

summary: after finding a weird book of summoning spells from the library, your boyfriend eddie proposes an idea where you’d put the spells to good use, but what happens when you both actually summon a succubus demon who’s been starved of his lustful desires for centuries.

warnings: smut ahead, 18+ mdni, monster fucking, big dick steve, mmf threesome, oral sex ( f & m receiving), p in v sex, p in a sex, dom!steve, sub!eddie, sub!reader, spit as lube, being spanked and choked by a tail, squirting, breeding kink, cream pie.

authors note: another one shot for y’all, hope you like! As always thank you to my baby loves @xxhellfiregirlxx & @take-everything-you-can for beta reading, and always listening to my crazy ideas <3

wc: 3.1k

“This is such a bad idea.” You grumble as Eddie’s eyes squint, trying to make out the scription that was hastily written in the black leatherback book your boyfriend had found when he was in the library, browsing the shelves for a new fantasy book.

Instead, he found a creepy looking one filled with summoning spells and incantations.

“C’mon babe, this shit isn’t real. Who would leave a legit book of spells in a library? A Hawkins library, no less.” He huffs with a devious smirk “the only demon you’ll be summoning tonight is this big dick having one, right here.” He pacifies before chuckling at his own words as he continues drawing out the intricate looking pentagram.

You scoff and roll your eyes as you sit on your shared bed, socked feet dangling off the side as you watch the metalhead; his tongue poking out while he curves the chalk, finishing off the circle.

He quickly looks up at you in disbelief, “what? You tryna say I don’t have a big cock?” He taunts as his lips curl up into a mocking smile. “Oh Eddie, I don’t think it’ll fit! Your cock is so big! You stretch my pussy out so good!” He teases in a high pitched voice that you are certain, sounds absolutely nothing like you.

“I sound nothing like that you ass!” You screech as you pick up and throw the black bunny stuffie your boyfriend had recently won for you at the Hawkins annual All Hallow’s Fall Festival.

“Baby! You’re gonna fuck up my masterpiece. C’mon!” Eddie cries as he throws it back where it previously sat, between your two pillows.

“Well I don't sound like that…I sound way hotter.” You protest before playfully sticking your tongue out at him, making the boy quickly jump to his black boot clad feet and lunging at you. You both fall back onto the plush mattress as Eddie's body weighs you down.

“Stick your tongue out at me again and I'm gonna bite it.” He playfully growls in your ear before softly biting at your lobe.

“Ed’s I can't breathe, get off!” You can no longer hold back your giggles when he begins nuzzling his nose into your neck.

“Okay, undress and put that silk robe on. I'm gonna go stand in the closet and when I come back out, I’m no longer Eddie, okay?” He reminds you as his nose sweetly rubs against yours. “You remember what you're supposed to say?” Your boyfriend questions before standing up and making his way to the closet, dramatically whipping open the bi-fold doors before clambering his lanky body inside.

“Yes, of course I do.” You mutter before standing up and making quick work of removing your cropped t-shirt, little sleep shorts, lace panties and socks.

Eddie winks at you then quickly closes the doors. You slip your silk robe on, loosely tying it around your body before crouching down to get on your knees in front of the pentagram and black burning candles. You wait a few minutes before you begin to recite the words on the paper:

Lilith, please receive this offering. I give this truthfully and willingly

May the light of these candles burn brightly and guide your son to me

The light from the candles flicker as a heavy draft from your cracked window seeps in, sending a deep chill down your spine.

The closet doors burst open and Eddie steps out, wearing a shit eating grin and red devil horns he had picked up from the local costume shop. He was shirtless, his tattoos on full display, black jeans laying low on his hips showing off his deep v lines you always went crazy for, the chain wallet he often wore caught your attention as it swayed while he sauntered over, boots stopping right in front of the pentagram you were kneeled behind.

“Hello, little one.” Eddie growled, but something off in the corner of the room caught your attention, a black figure that swiftly moved out of the shadows, white teeth gleaming as he sent you a sinister smile.

“Holy shit.” You murmur, making Eddie’s face break character as he curiously follows your eyes to the shaggy haired demon who had now fully revealed himself to you both.

Eddie’s whole body turns in shock as his black boots side step the perfectly laid out incantation.

“Holy fuck!” Your boyfriend shouts as the back of his knees hit the bed, he quickly loses his balance, body bouncing off the mattress as his eyes almost pop out of his head from his state of panic. “Who the fuck are you? W-what do you want?” He stammers, his voice cracking as it came out too high pitched for his liking.

You sit there with wide eyes, your body feeling as if it's being weighed down by a ton of bricks and unable to move as the demon studies you, from head to toe before hungirly licking his blood red lips.

“Well you summoned me, silly child.” The demon says before he begins to study your boyfriend.

“N-no, w-we didn't mean to.” You finally spoke before standing up and moving closer to Eddie, but as you do your robe slips open exposing your bare breast and cunt to the demon.

The succubus looks around with a snarl on his face.

“Oh but it looks as though you did, little mortal.” He chuckles as his eyes find the leatherback book splayed out on the floor. “What is the meaning of this if you did not summon me?” He asks as his clawed hand motions to the summoning circle.

“We were roleplaying.” Eddie admits as his cheeks tinge pink from his confession.

“Roleplaying?” The demon questions before he stops right in front of you, his glowing eyes take in you and your boyfriends terrified faces.

“Y-yeah, we uh well I was gonna play the demon and she was supposed to summon me, then we’d ya’ know?” Eddie stutters before making a crude gesture to the demon.

“Hmm, I see.” The succubus says as his clawed hands rub against the soft skin of his chin.

The closeness gave you and Eddie the opportunity to take in the horned monster's face, his rather human looking face. He had dark curled horns surrounded by perfectly coiffed brown hair, honey brown eyes that appeared to change to a glowing yellow when he was excited. His face and body were covered in beauty marks, he was dressed in clothes that looked like they were from centuries ago but his arms were big and muscular and his hands were veiny with long pointed claws. You and Eddie couldn’t help but to think he was fucking beautiful, enthralling.

“W-what’s your name?” You ask as your robe slips back open, revealing your hardened nipples to both males.

“You may call me Steve, my sweet one.” The succubus purrs before his hand reaches out towards your bare breasts, his clawed thumb gently rubbing against your peaked bud, making you shiver but you make no attempts to move away.

“Hey man.” Your boyfriend demurs, but the words come out weaker than intended.

“Shh, little lamb.” Steve murmurs, bringing the same hand he’d just caressed you with, up to Eddie’s lips “You’ll get your turn.” He winks at the boy, whose eyes are now cartoonishly bulging from his head.

Steve steps closer to you both, his very prominent erection now making itself known, as his hands move to yours and Eddie’s faces. He rubs his thumbs over both sets of your lips as he moves in closer towards the metalhead sitting beside you.

“Would you like that, pretty boy?” The demon solicits, his lips mere inches from your boyfriends, so close that Eddie could feel Steve’s shallow breaths.

Eddie had never found men much attractive but he couldn’t deny the allure he felt for the demon standing before him.

“I-I would.” He admits with a slight nod of his head before the succubus pulls him into a passionate kiss, tongues swirling against each other as you look on in desperate arousal.

“Mmm.” The demon hums after he pulls back. “I need to fuck you both.” He declares before bringing his swollen lips to yours, he licks into your mouth making you moan into the kiss, he removes your robe and slips it off your body. His hands rub over your tits, down your sides and land on your hips, holding you tightly as his lips continue to move against yours.

“Sit on his face, sweet one.” Steve demands, easily lifting your hips and moving you further back on the bed.

“Lay back for me, little lamb.” The demon tells Eddie before he falls to his knees and makes rapid movements to remove the metalheads belt, button and zipper. Eddie lifts his hips up, helping the succubus as he roughly rips his jeans down the rest of the way.

You straddle Eddie’s face, your glistening pussy captures Steve’s attention as he now hungrily eyes you and your boyfriend's sexes.

“I haven’t played with such a pretty cunt and cock in what seems like eons.” The demon groans before taking Eddie’s tip into his mouth and sucking.

Eddie moans as his tongue swirls over your swollen clit, he takes your bundle of nerves into his mouth and lightly sucks. Your head falls back in pleasure before he’s gliding his tongue down and licking into your pussy, tasting your sweet nectar. His favorite flavor.

The succubus working between your boyfriend's thighs takes his cock further into his mouth before wrapping his abnormally long tongue around the metalhead's girthy length. Eddie’s eyes roll back as he continues to lick and suck you. The rings on his fingers are digging into you just as his black polished nails are, creating a sting that amplifies your pleasure tenfold.

“Fuck, your tongue feels so good Eddie!” You whimper as you feel your orgasm creeping up on the horizon.

When you bring your head back down, your eyes immediately meet the glowing pair you've vaguely grown familiar with. His long snake-like tongue moves up from Eddie’s asshole to his balls, then up to lick the beads of precum that had built up in his absence while his long, wet, pink muscle made its travels further south.

“Are you going to cum, little one?” Steve questions before his tongue dashes out to lick at his obscenely wet lips.

“Mmhm!” You whine as your mouth drops open into the perfect little ‘o’ as heavy moans begin to fill the room.

The demon crawls up your boyfriends body, straddling his waist, rubbing their cocks together as he begins licking at your clit while Eddie fucks you with his tongue.

“Cum for us.” Steve demands, his thumb now taking over, making swift gentle circles.

“Oh! Oh!” You mewl as your legs shake, knees digging into the mattress as you ride your boyfriend's tongue, while the succubus continues to rub circles on your sodden clit.

“That’s it, pretty thing. Yes, that’s it!” Steve growls, hips still bucking creating the perfect friction as his and Eddie’s cocks rub together, both of them leaking with need.

Once you’ve come down from the euphoria, Steve manhandles you off of the long haired boy and onto your back before he grabs Eddie’s glistening chin and begins licking your slick off of his lips, he quickly dips his tongue into the other boys mouth moaning as he sucks your taste off of the metalheads wet muscle.

When they finally come up for air, the demon turns his attention back on you, making his way between your twitching legs.

“Here is what is going to happen, little doves…” Steve huffs as his eyes roam over your body that lay still beneath him. “I am going to fuck her little cunt as you fuck me.” He growled, his glowing eyes now on Eddie.

“Uh, okay.” Your boyfriend mutters as if he still hasn’t fully comprehended what’s happening, but his cock is so painfully hard and throbbing he’ll do whatever you or Steve asks of him.

“You..” he says as he points a long nailed finger in your flushed face, “on all fours. Now.”

You do your best to move quickly while the demon is still kneeling between your spread thighs. Once you’ve successfully shifted your body onto your knees, head face down into your sheets as you arch your ass nice and high for him. When you begin to wiggle in anticipation a quick whip is descended onto your backside, making you wail out in pain and pleasure.

That definitely was not his hand!

You look over to Eddie whose eyes are wide as his hand comes to a full stop around his cock.

“Holy shit, was that a tail?” Eddie asks in disbelief.

you look back at Steve who is now rubbing his tip along your entrance, gathering your wetness onto the heated skin. You decide to confirm you and your boyfriend’s suspicions when you wiggle your hips impatiently again, and just as Eddie had said a black spiked tail came out from behind the demon giving you another good lashing that made your eyes water and your teeth bite down so hard on your bottom lip you could practically taste the blood.

In one swift motion the demon plunges his big, girthy cock inside of you, steadily dragging it against your walls before his thrusts slowly begin to speed up into an unforgiving pace.

Steve looks down at where Eddie is still sprawled, the look on his face is that of utter shock.

“Get back there and fuck me. Now.” The succubus growled as his eyes glowed, before desperately hissing from the tightness of your pussy around him.

Steve hadn’t been fucked by another man in centuries, and holyfuckingshit if he wasn’t the most backed up he’d ever been, but I guess that’s what happens when you haven’t been summoned in a millennia. He needed that ultimate power of fucking and being fucked.

“Well, I’ve never fucked a guy before… do I need something to make it wet before I-I…” your sweet, sweet boyfriend bashfully asks Steve.

“Just spit will do.” The demon groans, as his once erratic hips fall to a leisurely pace.

The metalhead spits on his fingers before he’s bringing the big glob between Steve’s cheeks and timidly rubbing it against his puckered hole.

“Mmm, that’s it.” The succubus hisses before Eddie begins to slowly sink his middle finger into the tight hole, it almost sucks him in immediately and he bottoms out to the knuckle within seconds, god he’s so tight and warm, Eddie couldn’t wait to be engulfed in his little asshole. Those are words he never thought he’d utter to himself. But here we are.

Once he’s gotten three fingers in, and has pumped them in and out enough times to successfully find the demon's prostate.

Eddie removes them before spitting on his tip for extra lubrication, then lines his hard, aching cock up with Steve’s hole and slowly but surely pushes in.

The feeling that comes over both males is very obvious as throaty grunts and groans fill the room. Finally Steve starts to pick up his pace as he fucks into you with reckless abandon. You can feel your boyfriend fucking the demons cock into you even harder, which causes more wetness drip from your stretched hole and down to the succubus’ balls that harshly slap against your clit.

“Oh! Yes, fuck that’s so good!” You whine as your eyes roll to the back of your head.

The grunts coming from your boyfriend who’s hands now roughly grab at your waist, using you to fuck himself deeper into the hole he’s pounding, and Steves hisses and whimpers, make you feel as though you’re floating on the precipice of blinding white pleasure.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Mmhm.” You continue to moan as you’re being fucked absolutely dumb.

“You hear that?” Eddie whispers into the demon's ear, “you’re making my girl feel so good, am I making you feel good, too?” Your boyfriend questions before licking at the succubus’ neck, then taking a chunk of skin between his teeth and biting before it turns into a harsh suck.

“Yes, yes you are making me feel so good!” Steve howled, the pleasure of both you and your boyfriend had the demon’s thoughts disintegrating into nothing but filling and being filled.

When you begin to fuck yourself on Steve’s cock, pushing back to engulf even more of him into your soaked walls, his tail swings out from behind him, swiftly wrapping around your neck and pulling your body up towards his.

“Am I fucking you good, little one?” Steve murmurs into your ear, creating a pleasant chill down your spine.

“Yes, it feels so fucking good!” You admit once his tail loosens from around your throat.

“Are you going to cum for me?” He whispers again, both males' hands caress your body as your high begins to peak.

You can hear Eddie mutter over Steve’s neck “cum for us baby.” The acknowledgement from the love of your life sets off your orgasm as you begin to shake and writh making the demon's tail tighten around your neck creating the most perfect spacey feeling that has your high lasting far longer than usual. A splash of liquid hits Steve’s thighs as your moans grow louder.

“Fuck!” Steve growls, his tail completely leaving your neck and swooping back to where it came from, causing you to fall face first into the mattress, tears and drool wetting the sheets beneath you as he drills harder into you, the need for his release makes him move at an inhuman pace.

Eddie stills allowing the demon the fuck himself on the metalheads cock as there is no way he can keep up with the thrusts he’s fucking you with.

“I’m going to breed this little fucking cunt, while your boyfriend breeds my asshole.” Steve hisses into your neck, before his groans get louder and his warm spunk shoots deep within your walls.

Steve clenches so tightly around Eddie’s cock, milking the cum right out of him as it shoots into his used up hole. Your boyfriend whimpers and whines at the feeling of being completely squeezed of every last drop.

Eddie falls beside you, both of you panting to catch your breaths, bodies mere seconds from being taken under by drowsiness.

Your boyfriend moves the hair out of your face before playfully pinching at your cheeks, the demon looks on at the tender display of affection between two lovers, it makes his chest tighten with an unfamiliar feeling.

“Oh, but we are not done, we have all night and my hunger has yet to be satiated.”

𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜 & 𝚛𝚎𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚜!

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scarletlizzard · 2 months

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thinking abt older sisters bsf! nat 🤭

your sister being wanda, and nat is obviously her best friend. wanda is always protective with you but since you both grew up with nat she could easily slip through the gaps.

her and wanda would always come home as a pair when they did, you chose to live with your parents while you attendees a smaller local college.

the first time natasha fucked you she snuck off away from wanda while she was sleeping, she’d find you still awake probably studying. she begged you to stop for a bit and come hangout with her.

you two would be cuddled up in your bed watching something, her hand would slowly roam your body.

you’d share a small kiss that would lead to her fucking you into your mattress. 🤭🤭🤭

every time wanda and your parents would go out to do something, natasha would make up some excuse not to go and she’d stay and fuck you the whole time they were gone.

ugh i love this so much 😵‍💫😵‍💫

Oh okay so this is what we're rocking with today? Cause yeah anon, you've hooked me!! 😌😳

A few thoughts on that if I may ✍️

The first time she snuck in your room, she convinced you to watch a movie with her. It started out innocently at first. After all, this was something you would regularly do, but usually not with just the two of you. As you watched the screen, her hand rested on your thigh, caressing the skin. It would inch up closer, painfully slow, and you couldn't deny the ache in your lower stomach building. Your thighs pressed together tightly.

"What's the matter sweetheart?"

With a smirk on her lips, forcing you to tell her how bad you needed her. How you wanted her to make you feel good. She kissed you softly at first, savoring the way your lips tasted, wanting to relish the feeling of your first kiss. Natasha would waste no time after that, knowing at any moment the two of you could be caught.

"You're taking me so well, fuck, this pussy was made for me."

"Shh, sweetheart, you have to be quiet. Don't want to wake anybody up, do you?"

"I know you love it.. the idea that someone could walk in right now and see you being fucked like a slut."

"That's it, baby, that's it. Give me everything. Shh, just one more, one more time."

The two of you spent the night tangled in your sheets, Natasha drawing out orgasm after orgasm from you. She left you a whining, whimpering mess, to the point you couldn't even speak.

She cuddled you until you fell asleep, but when you awoke, she was gone. You went slowly down the stairs, seeing your sister and her best friend eating breakfast at the table. You sat next to Wanda, trying to act as if nothing had happened.

After that night, she spent every minute she could in your presence, coming up with every excuse she could think of to stay home with you. The second the car rolled out of the driveway, she would be on top of you, her hands slipping into your panties wherever you were. She would fuck you for as long as she could whether it be ten minutes or two hours.

One evening, she had you on the couch, enjoying the squirming mess that you were underneath her. Your moans filled the room, along with the sinful sounds of her fucking you.

"That's it pretty girl, just like that. Let me hear those pretty moans."

Because any time you were alone, she wanted to hear those broken cries of pleasure, your name leaving your soft pink lips. But as you moaned her name, the familiar sound of the front door unlocking sent a shock of panic through your both your minds.

The two of you tried to part as quickly as possible, but as Wanda walked in, she could see what she had interrupted. The bag she held dropped, and anger was written on her face as she took in the sight before her: the two of you panting, breathlessly. Natasha was still pulling her shirt over her head while you attempted to put on your sweatpants. Both of you had red and puffy lips. A purple bruise was still fresh on your neck, and your hair was wild.

Wanda looked to you and the to Natasha, her fists clenching at her side as she stepped further into the living room.

"What the fu-"

#scarletlizzard asks #um yeah anon #thanks for putting this in my head #way to go #luv u tho !!!#<3333 #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha blurb #marvel blurb

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gffa · 10 months

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Did you know I’ve probably cried like a dozen times from BATFAMILY fic over the last two weeks? I’m not a big cryer, so that’s saying something for me, by which I mean, I realize I have some incredibly intense feelings about fictional characters, but also fandom is phenomenal about hitting those feelings dead on in exactly the way they mean to do. And it’s great, hell yeah make me cry buckets in emotional catharsis!! And then balance it out with comfort or humor because my soul needs soothing, too! I have been reading so many comics lately (so many good comics, what is this, I’m not used to having comics I actually think are good) and I love the canon so very much, but part of the draw towards this fandom has always been the enthusiastic fic response, the willingness to explore things the comics themselves don’t always have time for, whether aftermath of events or psychological effects that aren’t necessarily intended but are fascinating to consider or just straight up downtime that’s not about a case because fic doesn’t need to make people punch things in every issue. The two go hand in hand for me and getting fun comics to read and fun fic to read has been really meaningful to me in a time when I’ve really needed that in my life. I hope that I can return the favor even a little by shoving a bunch of fics at you and only making you scroll a little to get through my Dick Grayson Problem. BATFAM FIC RECS - BABY DICK IS THE CUTEST FERAL ROBIN I’M NOT HEARING ANY ARGUMENTS: ✦ May Our Memories Light The Way by sElkieNight60, dick & bruce, time travel, 1.9k Bruce travels into the past and serves up an apology long over-due. ✦ Late Spring by halyordan, dick & bruce & alfred, 3.5k Dick gets in his first ‘fight’ at school. Luckily, Bruce was an angry boy once. He knows how to deal with it. ✦ the color violet by TheResurrectionist, dick & bruce & cast, 2.6k The address – 1007 Mountain Drive – told Alex two things: one, their patient was either going to be someone unreasonably wealthy or an unlucky service worker, and two, getting to the actual patient was going to be a bitch. ✦ as i was walkin’ by oh_fudgecakes, dick & bruce & alfred, 3.6k Bored and chased out of the kitchen by an irate Alfred, a young Dick Grayson falls through a loose floorboard while exploring the attic and ends up in an locked storeroom housing an interesting set of journals. ✦ help me fill this hole in my soul by renecdote, dick & bruce & cast, 5.9k Dick nearly drowns on patrol one night. He’s fine, except that he really isn’t. Alfred and Bruce take care of him when he gets sick and let him know that even though his parents are gone he isn’t alone. ✦ medio by newsical, dick & bruce & alfred, 2.1k Loss, again. This loss was by his hand, by his own tongue, with words so sharply edged that they tore apart his mouth and left his lips bloody. The manor was silent, and he was alone. And Alfred’s half birthday was in three days. ✦ My Little Bird (is a Troublemaker) by sElkieNight60, dick & bruce & clark & cast, 10.9k No, not good enough, thought Bruce as he gripped the boy’s shoulders in his hands. Dick still didn’t move and the man had to resist the violent urge to shake the answer out of him. This wasn’t his little bird. This wasn’t his Robin, he would never do something like this. Dick gets caught drunk, Bruce loses it. ✦ things kept hidden by emavee, dick & bruce & cast, 9.7k “Better hope the Batman doesn’t catch wind of you. Batman hates metas. He’ll make you disappear. That’s what he does.” “But I’d never hurt anyone,” Dick stammers. He doesn’t know very much about Batman, but he’s a hero, right? He fought crime, like Superman, and Superman was a hero. Right? ✦ (Not) Enough by daringyounggrayson, dick & bruce & alfred, 2.3k After the training simulation goes wrong, Bruce takes his kid home. ✦ i can’t promise (it’s not written in the stars) by konan_konan, dick & bruce & alfred & cast, 7.3k Batman is following him, surely, but he’s smaller and faster and he’s not going to let someone take him and lock him up again. Wayne Manor, he’s learned, is just another kind of prison. It may be big and fancy but it is also empty and cold and he’s not going back. Tony Zucco dies tonight, he tells himself. It is the only thing that matters. ✦ what’s needed most by dizarys, dick & bruce & alfred, 1k Dick wants to fly. Bruce would like that to not involve giving him a heart attack for once. ✦ two sheep counted, but not enough to sleep by batofgoodintent (crownedcrusader), dick & bruce, 1.8k Dick hasn’t been sleeping. It’s a problem Bruce should have addressed by now. BATFAM FIC RECS - ADULT BATSON AND BATDAD ARE MY KRYPTONITE, I FOLD LIKE WET CARDBOARD FOR THEM: ✦ (At the Very Least), I Can by sElkieNight60, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian, 3k “… something is wrong.” That was Bruce’s voice, he would know it anywhere. OR, Dick Grayson + Full Body Paralysis ✦ Catch by sElkieNight60, bruce & dick, 2k Raptor has Bruce in dire straits. Nightwing catches Bruce as he falls. Then it turns out Bruce never fell at all, he jumped. “Dick. I didn’t fall. I jumped. I jumped because I knew you’d catch me.” Childhood trauma never truly goes away, it seems. OR, the emotional aftermath of “Better than Batman.” ✦ Call Me if You Need Me by LiterallyThePresident, bruce & dick & alfred, 1.1k “Master Bruce is rather distraught, you see.” and now Alfred sounded pained, “The dose he received was not enough to render him immobile, but it is causing some paranoia and unpleasant hallucinations. He… Well, he appears to be rather convinced that something has happened to you.” BATFAM FIC RECS - EVERYBODY LOVES DICK: ✦ Sons and Fathers by FabulaRasa, dick & bruce & jefferson & dick/babs, 4.9k Dick has three conversations that needed to be had, at the end of season three. This is blatantly a “there I fixed it” fic. ✦ The Best Medicine by JpegDotJpeg, dick & bruce & jason & tim & damian & alfred & cass, 2.2k “I’m dying.” “You are not dying.” “This is it. It’s the end for me. I bet I have some exotic viral disease with no known cure and now I’m going to waste away into nothingness.” “I highly doubt that, Master Richard.” ✦ Look to the Stars by Zephyrra, dick & bruce & jason & hal & alfred & cast, lantern!dick, 8.3k After Batman fires Robin for the last time, Dick becomes a Flying Grayson in an entirely new way: by becoming a Green Lantern. But no matter what kind of mask he dons, Dick Grayson has a way of (accidentally) changing history irrevocably. This is only the beginning. ✦ the courage of stars by theragingstorm, dick & clark/lois & jon & cast, 1.8k When he really needs somebody, Dick goes to Metropolis. ✦ a great honour (to hold you up) by dizarys, dick & bruce & jason & tim & damian & cass & steph & duke, 2.6k “For the last time, I’m not getting sick!” Jason and Tim exchanged skeptical looks behind Dick’s back. “You’re pale, shivering, and wince every time your bare skin touches the cold metal desk.” Jason ticked off on grease smeared fingers, “Sounds sick to me.” “Wonderful observations, Holmes.” Dick muttered, still looking through the microscope. “What does Watson have to add?” “That first of all, I’m Sherlock.” said Tim, “And my associate is correct. You should go get some rest.” ✦ i am tired of all these motherfuckin’ bombs on these motherfuckin’ spaceships by konan_konan, dick & bruce & damian & titans & background dick/kory & justice league, 4.5k “Those generators won’t last long,” barks Batman. “We’re losing our window. What other plan do you propose, Nightwing?” He huffs. “I��m gonna blow up the ship.” or: when the justice league gets stranded in space, the teen titans come to the rescue. it doesn’t exactly go to plan. BATFAM FIC RECS - JASON TODD IS AN ASSHOLE CAT, I’M GONNA THROW HIM AT HIS SIBLINGS BECAUSE IT’S FUNNY: ✦ abyssal plain by glassofwater, dick & jason, 3.5k “What did you do?” “Exactly what he said. I killed him.” ✦ Bang, bang by Ididloveyou_once, tim & jason & cast, 5.5k ‘You shot me!’ Jason gasped, stunned, ‘Holy shit, you actually shot me.’ Tim’s eyes widened and he froze. They stared at each other for a second, dumbstruck and then- ‘Don’t tell Bruce.’ ✦ Break the Ice by dizarys, dick & jason, 1.5k He felt the blades pierce his body. It was at the height of his leap, back arched as he sprang backwards over the car. A bolt of searing hot pain shot through his side then thigh. But Nightwing still landed with grace and flung his escrima sticks straight into two gang members’ heads. BATFAM FIC RECS - DICK AND DAMIAN WERE THE BEST BATMAN & ROBIN, I’M NOT HEARING ARGUMENTS ABOUT THAT EITHER: ✦ Not Quite Saudade by Wisptheraccoon, dick & damian & bruce & jason & tim & alfred & jon, 3.1k Aka. The reason Dick is no longer allowed to leave on long missions without Damian. ✦ Scorpion-grass by Ididloveyou_once, dick & damian & bruce & tim, 2.9k Damian gets hit with fear toxin and is forced to relive Dick losing his memories… Dick could’ve gone without knowing how the kid reacted to his amnesia. ✦ what’s waited till tomorrow starts tonight by theragingstorm, dick & damian & john/mary & cast, time travel, 63.4k wip After an argument with his Batman, Dick Grayson, Damian finds himself in Dick’s past, with one of his greatest tragedies fast approaching and no easy route forward for either. As long as he risks being stuck seventeen years in the past, all he can do is live at the circus, with a family he never knew — and just maybe learn from it all. BATFAM FIC RECS - BATKIDS ALL HAVE MANY SIBLINGS AND THEY’RE ALL PETTY ASSHOLES AND/OR WONDERFUL BABIES AND I LOVE THEM WITH MY WHOLE BEING: ✦ When Wisdom Must Go by AnicomicQueen, bruce & dick & tim, 5.1k Bruce experiences taking his children to get their wisdom teeth removed. Chapter 1: Dick (Age: 17) Chapter 2: Tim (Age: 16) ✦ So you’ll know where I’ve been by victoria_p (musesfool), jason & steph, 2.1k “I just noticed your scars.” “We all have—Oh.” Jason drops his gaze again, runs his fingers along the faded incision on the left side of his chest. “No one else has one of these.” ✦ and when you’re in the trenches by dizarys, jason & tim & dick, 4.3k When Jason stumbles across a shocking discovery, he’s forced to decide how much he truly cares about the people he used to call family. ✦ The Kids Are All Right by Browniesarethebest, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & cass & steph & alfred, 11.4k Dick and Tim are de-aged. It goes about as well as anyone would expect. ✦ World’s Saddest Breakfast Club by motleyfam, dick & jason & tim & damian & bruce & cass & steph & duke & cast, 7k Following a couple of Very Bad Weeks™ (which may or may not have involved being kidnapped and mildly tortured), Jason decides the best way to cheer himself up is to break into the Manor for a 3 a.m. snack. Turns out he isn’t the only one awake. BATFAM FIC RECS - I CUT MY TEETH ON DICK & TIM AS CLOSE BROTHERS AND NOT EVEN CANON WILL NOT TAKE IT FROM ME: ✦ Not So Large but Definitely In Charge by dottie_dc (dottie_wan_kenobi), dick & tim & bruce & alfred, 6.7k Alternate universes suck so much. Tim has always known that, but he’s never really grasped it, not until he and Dick were forcibly thrown into one a week ago. ✦ there’ll always be a few things, maybe several things by incogneat_oh, dick & tim, ~1k Tim breaks the silence, half-glancing over his shoulder to murmur, “Pop-culture has taught me that you’re supposed to seek out your parent in the middle of the night. Not your sibling.” “Pop-culture isn’t a perfect teacher, Timmy.” ✦ will we ever get to the other side? by dizarys, dick & tim, 4.8k Blockbuster is dead and Dick is lost. Haunted by that night and no longer Nightwing, he flees Gotham only to find himself back in Bludhaven on mob business. Now Robin is the city’s new protector and Dick is determined to avoid Tim & his old life. That is, until he finds Tim bleeding in an alley. ✦ World Gone MAD by Havendance, dick & tim & justice league, 5.5k Ask the GCPD about the Joker’s death, and they’ll tell you he died of natural causes. Ask the Justice League, and they’ll tell you that it’s a matter that’s been resolved internally. Ask Batman and he won’t give you an answer, because he’s Batman. The truth of the matter, however, is this: Dick Grayson beat the Joker to death. ✦ Wake Me Up Before You Go Go by incogneat_oh, dick & tim, ~1k He’s already halfway up the stairs, towards the window on the second floor landing, when Dick says, “Tim.” He turns back, says wide-eyed and guilty, “Mhm? Can I– I’ll get you a blanket? If you want?” – Or, Tim visits Dick in Bludhaven. ✦ unleash the beast (with a kiss on the cheek) by InkpotSprite, dick & tim & bruce & jason & stephanie, 1.3k Dick’s chest tightened as his lips parted to say something that he’d truly regret. Before a soft pair of lips pressed against his cheek, then disappeared so quickly that Dick was almost sure he’d imagined it. If it weren’t for Bruce’s fractionally wide eyes, Dick would think he had. Slowly, he turned his head to the side. Tim smiled back at him. BATFAM FIC RECS - I WILL DIE ON THE HILL THAT TIM DRAKE’S TRUE LOVE INTEREST IS CONNER KENT AND NOBODY CAN STOP ME, NOT EVEN GOD: ✦ cat tactic of healing by CarrionCarnival, tim/kon, 2.1k Kon finds a moderately sick Tim, and decides that it’s his problem to solve. feline style ✦ In the Corner Taking up Space by Louis_the_Snake, tim/kon & cast, NSFW, 5.1k Tim gets roped into doing a simple modeling gig for Wayne Fashion with some of his siblings and realizes that everyone he knows is way hotter than he is. And the hottest thing about him is his ass. Which ends up plastered in every major city in the U.S. ✦ Thief by rotasha, tim/kon, NSFW, 1.8k Kon walks in on Tim wearing his leather jacket. ✦ only touched you once by distracted_dragon, tim/kon, NSFW, 1.8k Kon decides to tease Tim a little with his TTK. ✦ Missing Words by Violet_Witch, tim/kon & cassie, 6.9k It takes Tim years to realize what’s always been there. ✦ What’s Real and What Isn’t by JpegDotJpeg, tim/kon & bart, 2.3k Kon’s eyes almost glow in the dark, a luminescent blue so vivid Tim almost can’t stand looking at them, though he has a harder time trying to look away from them. “I thought you were having a nightmare or something. Your heart was beating so hard it woke me up.” Tim feels himself a flush. He can’t even sleep without bothering someone else. “Oh,” He replies, voice small. “Sorry. I’m fine, you can go back to sleep.” “You’re shaking,” Kon points out and Tim curses internally. ✦ you taught me the courage of stars before you left by popsunner, tim & kon & bruce & damian & lois & jon & cassie & cast, 6k “He loved you, you know,” She says wistfully, meeting his eyes. Tim looks away. “I loved him too.” “Love.” “What?” “Love,” she repeats. “Not loved. He might be gone, but we don’t love him any less.“ BATFAM FIC RECS - TAKE THE ANGST DIAL, TURN IT UP TO ELEVEN, AND BREAK THE KNOB OFF, THAT’S WHAT I’M HERE FOR: ✦ Arguments with the Recently Deceased by JackHawksmoor, dick & bruce & clark & tim & cast, 7.9k Dick just got back from a lousy, week-long adventure traveling in time. When his ride drops him off at the cave the morning after he left, Dick isn’t expecting to find Bruce in the middle of a complete meltdown. Dick realizes there’s been a mistake- Dick hasn’t been gone six hours, he’s been gone six months, and everyone thinks he’s dead. ✦ Solar Flares by glassofwater, dick & bruce & jason & tim & damian & alfred & cast, 46.1k wip Personhood, noun: the quality or condition of being an individual person. Son, noun: a man regarded as the product of a particular person, influence, or environment. Dick Grayson, noun: oldest son of Bruce Wayne, first son of Batman (i.e., a sum of parts, not a whole) ✦ Starlings in Winter by FromStarstuff, dick & bruce & clark & alfred & cast, 14.3k wip When Dick was eleven years old he ran away from Gotham. No one could quite figure out why. Take your pick; there was a fight at school, a circus in town, and a song he can’t remember the melody of. Eleven-year-old Dick Grayson was flooded with grief, swimming in it, perpetually drowning. One day it was too much. ✦ Going Nuclear by wrsttballplayer, dick & bruce & jason & tim & damian & barbara & cass & steph & alfred, time travel, 15.3k wip Dick looked at his younger self; the way his brow twisted up in so much anger and his was chest heaving with pure vitriol. Dick remembered what fury like that felt like. He remembered the way it burnt in his throat. He used to spew that poison at Bruce all the time, hell even the Titans had gotten the bad end of his temper more than once. And yet, Dick couldn’t place the last time he had been mad like that. Nowadays, all his anger died into withering flames of resignation and compromise more often than not. ✦ Why Is Tim the Only One With Any Tact? by CamsthiSky, dick & tim & wally, 4.1k In which Tim tries to mediate an argument between Dick and Wally. Things don’t go so well. ✦ You Won’t Wake Up Alone by DawnsEternalLight, dick & bruce & jason & tim & damian, 5.2k Dick’s captured and drugged and probably about to die. The last thing he wants to do is die in front of his family, especially not his baby brothers, all he wants is to be with Bruce and feel safe again. ✦ Hold Me Dear and Close to Your Heart by sElkieNight60, dick & bruce & cast, 3.8k Dick Grayson leaves his whole life behind when Bruce Wayne kicks him out. ✦ the flute of your whole existence by LovesFrogs, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & alfred, 4.2k He could voice his greatest fears, weaknesses, or most secret dreams at the drop of a hat; all the things he’s never put into words before and keeps tucked close between his ribs. What kind of ammunition is his son going to ask for? What will he make Bruce admit, knowing he is incapable of a lie? ✦ The Kids Are(n’t?) Alright by avengemyheart, dick & bruce & tim & alfred & cast, rape aftermath, 3k Dick saves a young rape victim from his babysitter and in the process reveals his own trauma. The problem? Dick is Batman at the time, and kids are blabber mouths. ✦ Cursed Silence by TheSilencer, dick & bruce & jason & tim & steph & cast, 3.4k Dick Grayson is given a gift - to seal away his emotions. No one has a good time. ✦ Peeking Through the Tunnel Beyond by sElkieNight60, dick & bruce & cast, read the tags, 2.4k Or, Dick Grayson just can’t seem to free himself from his past. And this time, Bruce is there. ✦ soft clocks by dustorange, dick & bruce & damian & jason & tim & alfred & tiger & cast, 35.2k Dick has amnesia during his time at Spyral. The family grapples with finding out he’s alive. Dick grapples with finding out he has a family. ✦ Never Say That by JackHawksmoor, bruce & dick & jason & damian & cast, 9.6k "Calm down, I’m not aiming for anything vital,” Jason said irritably. Batman turned away from the man he’d just floored. “We agreed-” he began sharply. “I didn’t promise anything,” Jason snapped. He lifted his gun, muttering under his breath. “You ought to be grateful, it could be worse-” Or: the Bats have an extremely bad night in Gotham City BATFAM FIC RECS - SOMETIMES YOU JUST NEED TO TAKE ALL THE SERIOUSNESS OUT OF THE ROOM AND STAY SILLY FOR AWHILE: ✦ there but for the grace of god by TheResurrectionist, hal & dinah & ollie & flash & j'onn & bat-kids & young justice & justice league, 3.7k A Justice League fic where everyone argues about who’s the most beautiful and intimidating sexy from the Big Three and everyone has valid points. ✦ The One With The Bat’s Son by Maximum_Quinn, bruce & dick & wally & hal & billy, 3.4k “Batman has seven kids.” Wally blinked. “You’re shitting me.” “Not even a little, I just overheard him and Supes talking.” “Oh my god,” he breathed, staring at Hal incredulously. “You don’t think -?” Hal nodded, slowly and seriously. “Batman could be Captain Marvel’s dad.”

#lumi.txt #dc #batfam #bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #cassandra cain #stephanie brown #alfred pennyworth #conner kent #timkon #fic recs #batman fic recs #long post

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lazycats-stuff · 2 months

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Artist toddler batbro! Can't help but draw/ paint at least once a day and at the end of the day batfam is anticipating who will be the lucky family member that'll receive which ever art piece their youngest has created that day (sometimes the art piece is on the walls or floor of the mansion but no one has the heart to be angry when little batbro is just proudly presenting his art)

Toddler batbro *leaves a paint covered tiny handprint on the wall*

Bruce: alfred, frame that

Oh my, that's cute. Oh my God... Aww. Also, I know it's short, but this is all my inspiration is willing to give at this moment. Next time, I'll try to write more.

Summary: (Y/N) is an artist.

Warnings: None, really fluffy

Every child has a talent. Whether that be in sports or arts, every child has a hidden talent for something. Even if some kids are average, there is nothing wrong with it. Bruce, amongst his four older sons, had a toddler. Yes, a toddler.

How did it happen?

A one night stand. The mom couldn't take care of (Y/N) and Bruce took him in and the other 4 accepted (Y/N) as if he was their blood brother and Bruce was grateful that they did it. Of course, they had to change their schedules to accommodate to make sure that (Y/N) was a priority. Of course, no one minded to do that.

And speak of talents? While his four older sons had their own specialties. Damian had his knowledge of blades and martial arts, Tim for his hacking and detective skills, Jason for his accuracy with guns and other firearms and Dick with his acrobatic skills.

(Y/N) was an artistic child. He didn't show it at first, but as he got more comfortable, he started asking for paper and crayons. Crayons slowly evolved into something more and (Y/N) would draw daily. It could be anything. It could be a couch or even Titus. Maybe it would be one of the boys too.

And, at the moment, there was a big honor in the house. What that honor may be? (Y/N) handing you his own artwork. It became a tradition and sort of a competition between everyone. Everyone wanted to see what (Y/N) has created that day.

It was considered the biggest honor in the manor, to get a piece of paper, created by (Y/N). It makes everyone's day when they get an artwork. Dick nearly cried. Damian was close to crying too. Alfred and Bruce got one too and the two grown men, who have seen stuff... Safe to say, they nearly broke down into tears and shambles.

Nearly.

But there was a one problem in this entire story. (Y/N) wouldn't limit himself to drawing on paper. Oh no. Many parents would punish the child if the child drew on the walls or floor. Right? Well... Not if you are (Y/N) Wayne who is clearly artistically talented.

(Y/N) would often draw whenever he could, even if that meant on the wall or the floor. And whoever saw (Y/N) drawing on the floor or the wall, didn't have a heart to even yell or be remotely angry, especially since (Y/N) had that shine in his eyes when he was showing them their art.

Bruce wasn't supposed allow (Y/N) to paint over the walls or the floor. That's what Bruce was supposed to correct. A correct thing to do... Right? Well, Bruce didn't know. Parenting doesn't have a book and a set of rules, but Bruce wished he had some sort of rules so he could solve this.

He can keep on dreaming when it comes to universal rules for a perfect parenting style.

But he has actually decided what he was going to do, without a doubt. (Y/N) was allowed to doddle and draw wherever he wanted. That was something that was relayed to all the other members, whoever, they put certain restrictions.

No drawing in their rooms without supervision. Bruce's study was also off limits if there is no supervision. And only at home is doodling and drawing allowed.

Because Bruce is just ready to frame it all. Alfred already has frames ready to go.

It was always fun.

As of now, (Y/N) was doodling on the wall, just sitting on the floor, without a care in the world. Bruce and Alfred were walking by, stopping when they saw (Y/N) drawing. This time, it was just a simple handprint.

Bruce was smiling and instructed (Y/N) to go wash his hands and then eat. Bruce and Alfred looked at the handprint on the wall.

" Alfred, frame that. " Bruce said and Alfred did just that. Took out a frame and made sure that handprint was framed. And it looked adorable.

" He is growing up too quickly, Master Bruce. " Alfred said said as he looked at the little handprint.

" I agree Alfred. " Bruce said sadly.

#dc comics #dc x male reader #x male reader #batfamily #bruce wayne x male reader #batman x male reader

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felmonth · 5 months

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(Edited and slightly better developed! Will be updated until further notice)

Hey, neighbors! I am alive! XD

AAAAH! I finally managed to finish Tom's sheet, but for Au "Actors," the author of this AU is @frillsand. I've been wanting to create drawings related to this AU for a while now, and there are still comics that I want to share.

Wally won my heart -cries- 😭💘, of course, haha. I'll be sharing with you all the comics that come to mind regarding this AU.

WARNING: Before proceeding, this may contain sensitive content, you have been warned. I hope you enjoy the extended blog and the extra mini-comic to lighten the mood.

Well without anything else to say about it...let's start with Tom Unlucky, the stylist!!

Tom Actor's Story:

In a town called "Titirilquén," Thompson (Tom) Lucky grew up alongside his mother and brother Jack Lucky. They depended on each other for everything. They didn't own a television, but they would find TVs on in stores where mostly there were news and interviews with celebrities. Both of them dreamed of becoming actors inspired by the experiences shared by those celebrities on television. Their school further fueled their interests, as it offered a theater subject and a variety of art-related courses.

At school, Jack exhibited a captivating personality in his school theater performances, earning admiration from everyone. However, Jack felt uncomfortable because nobody paid attention to his brother, who was also improving with each performance and costume. Therefore, Jack decided to involve his brother in everything to make him stand out just like himself...

Over time, the school grants Jack a special scholarship that involves working in one of the largest studios in Titirilquen despite being very young. This news greatly delights Jack, so he mentions it to his brother about this opportunity to become what they wanted to be at that time. Unfortunately, those who gave Jack the opportunity were very disappointed when he brought Tom to work with him, so they reluctantly accepted Tom only because Jack requested it.

When Jack was not around Tom, they assigned him different tasks than what an actor should do, completely deviating from the agenda that Tom had planned for the week. This led him to become overloaded with tasks, but he didn't complain because he thought it had to happen when living the life of an actor.

Jack and Tom were the first young actors in the Titirilquén studio. They initially performed in a few presentations for a museum, and then the director decided to create a program with them. Both did their best until they became somewhat more known thanks to the news in their town, and Tom was no longer as ignored as when he first joined. They reached a broader audience, leading them to want to learn more about the people in their town. So, they started learning sign language and refining their voices for musical sections to begin a small program aimed at families.

Both were directed by the same assistant, "Ron," but due to unforeseen circumstances, he had to retire because he had to move to another country for another job opportunity where he could earn more money to support his family. They had a new assistant, a woman named "Cherry," and from this moment, problems arose. The new assistant was serious and easily stressed when the director had to tell her what to do. As a result, she left the job of directing to the two young actors.

This assistant was starting to have too many problems with the brothers, she envied that both brothers mentioned the previous assistant's actions. However, they did not say this with bad intentions but rather so that he could do his job well, since the director was demanding regarding what should be on the schedule of both brothers. Over time, the work environment between them improved, but something was missing in the assistant's life, the brothers did not say many things to her or chat with her, but instead spoke only among themselves.

One day, Cherry overheard a conversation between the two brothers about the previous assistant. Cherry misinterpreted this as a threat to her job and felt worthless to both brothers. He decided to come up with a plan with his fellow students. The plan was to put one of the brothers in a problematic situation so that she could do something to help them and get recognition for it because according to her, the brothers did not value her.

The chosen target was Tom, as Cherry considered him weak and incapable. After finishing his singing section of the show, Tom left the studio to take a break and have a drink.

He noticed that his co-workers near a restaurant were calling him to chat, Tom without noticing any suspicion in them, approached them with great joy, because he admired what his co-workers were doing in the studio.

And being recognized and starting a conversation by them was a great joy for Tom, since he always lived underestimated as just a simple doll who cannot stand out among humans.

Unfortunately, there were ulterior motives. While they were talking to Tom normally, they took him behind the studio, which looked like an alley, and there a cruel scare developed. These coworkers mentioned negative things when they entered the alley and Tom felt uncomfortable by his coworkers' sudden mood swings. He tried to back away, but was easily caught. While saying negative things, they gradually destroyed parts of his body, including arms, legs, wrists, and fingers. They showed no concern for the little puppet's screams and fear because, to them, he was just a doll that couldn't feel pain, or so they claimed, they made fun of him for being too dramatic when he screamed.

When this situation came to an end, the group of companions left, leaving him alone, Tom remained on the ground, crying without understanding how the situation took such a sudden turn. Just a few moments ago everything was fine and now he was helpless on the ground, motionless. He could only see the cotton sticking out of his body and his limbs outside his body, he could only move his head at the moment, he felt completely useless. He prayed that his brother would find him and help him, but then Cherry appeared, pretending to be worried about Tom. She helped him in this terrible situation and took him to the emergency tailoring service.

Now, with Tom recovered, he was mentally depressed and shattered. He looked at his stitched-up body and felt very insecure about venturing into the streets inhabited by humans. He didn't want to go through a similar situation again, so his only support rested on Cherry.

Tom was immensely grateful to her for helping him in this terrible and stressful situation. After a few long minutes of silence, he told his assistant that he didn't want to continue his acting career. This surprised Cherry, but she said nothing and just listened, offering ideas. She felt quite good about helping Tom in these moments of stress. She informed the director about this decision, and of course, he was very concerned and saddened, especially when Tom requested not to inform his brother.

When Tom was discharged on the same day as the accident, he didn't want to go home because a thought crossed his mind: he had always depended on his brother and was only causing him problems. So, with a heavy heart, he decided to distance himself from his brother. The assistant supported all of Tom's ideas, including the idea of complete separation. She was happy that Tom depended on her, so she found him a job outside the country without consulting him.

From Jack's perspective, after the accident, he found it strange that his brother didn't appear on the show. He asked the director why there were sudden changes in the program and why his brother wasn't there. The director decided to be tough with him, saying they hired him and not his brother. He gave Jack new rules for the new direction of the show. Jack was devastated by this news. He considered quitting his job but thought better of it; he wanted to see his brother at home.

When he arrived home, there were no traces of his brother or his belongings. He tried calling him, but there was no phone coverage. In his desperation, he contacted the authorities to inquire about his brother, but they only started working after at least two days of being missing.

This situation was stressful for Jack and his mother. They were very worried and considered various possibilities of what might have happened. Tom decided not to tell them anything when offered a call by the authorities and declared that he wouldn't return home. His family was concerned because they heard a weak voice through the phone, but it was all they could do as the studio was too secretive with the information.

Both brothers remained separated for a long time. For Jack, nothing was the same without Tom, and the show looked depressing. Despite this, he maintained a forced smile for his audience. Children asked a lot about his brother, leading him into deep depression.

Tom, moved to another country, working in a new studio as a stylist. He adopted a fearful, anxious, and panicked attitude, afraid of everyone. To distract himself, he overloaded himself with work, trying to maintain composure by breathing deeply. He couldn't stop thinking about his family, and he knew what he was doing wasn't healthy, but he wanted to stay away for a while.

Well, that's roughly the story. It's long, but I feel that now it's better understood than before. Thanks for staying to read and loving Tom Actor! -cries-

Curious facts about Titirilquén today:

Lately, I've been hooked on a series called "31 minutos," so I included some things from that series. I highly recommend it, it's in Spanish, but there are English subtitles available. Titirilquén is from that show.

Titirilquén doesn't have hospitals because literally no one gets sick there. However, there are places like Mrs. Juanita's service, who takes care of the damaged puppets in this town.

Titirilquén was a town of only puppets but tired of being anonymous and as an unknown town, they decided to include people in their town, building a civilization, the negative of the town only benefits the humans that its own puppet inhabitants.

Facts about Tom:

(Jack's data was deleted to create his respective sheet)

He is 27 years old now.

He speak spanish but he learned English thanks to Cherry.

He is very naive, and that works against him, as he decides to trust everyone.

He has a puppet friend in this studio and his name is Lulu but he affectionately calls him "Wolfy"

When he first arrived at the studio, the studio people confused him with Wally, so since that day, some just call him "Pink Wally." (This is due to his height, skin tone and hair shape, so Tom changed his look to messier hair to not look like Wally)

Tom is a very good worker, but he always hides after finishing his work and doesn't get distracted by anything while working. If a human talks to him, he ignores them, but if it's a puppet, he takes time to chat.

Despite hiding, he is found by children, most of whom are human.

He misses being an actor but is very afraid.

Alongside his brother, they worked on a children's educational program called "Sing until Counting to 3." They taught children songs that included sign language. However, when they leave, the program is completely forgotten by the director.

Tom and Jack are not the same height, Jack has to bend down to hug and talk to him.

Tom usually wears makeup, always in pink or fuchsia, which is his favorite color.

Tom often sees little due to his poor eyesight, so he sometimes needs glasses to see clearly, but he usually doesn't use them because he finds them unnecessary.

Tom has fallen in love with Cherry due to her concern for him (friend, realize...).

As you can see, Tom is afraid of humans, and you rarely find him crying in studio places where people don't live, or even paranoid. If you find him in this situation, make him feel comfortable because he is completely unstable at that moment.

People consider him strange and curious because he often hides and is fearful, and they don't understand why he behaves like that. (It doesn't mean he avoids bad situations with the studio's humans; some of them respect the puppets, while others decide to hate them.)

Tom in this Au has a human brother, in the style of muppet protagonists. His name is Jack Lucky and they are both very close and have achieved many things together by working as a team. Jack is very attentive to his puppet brother, caring for him and trying to understand him as best he can.

Will Tom manage to become an actor again? Will his life improve? Will his brother Jack locate him after a long time? Will Tom continue to call himself unfortunate? Find out in the next episode... *Felmonth bids farewell to the viewers watching the video.*

NOW, COMIC! YAY!!

Title: "First unlucky day"

Reference movie: "White Chicks"

I don't know what Janet's design is like, I didn't find any reference, so I made it with what I found.

And well that was all, I hope you liked everything, I did the best I could and as always if there are questions ask without problems.

Bye byeeee!

Extra: It is assumed that in this unplanned part, Wally told Tom "Consider yourself unlucky for working with me from now on." (No canon for me xD but extra)

Bye uwu)/💐

#draw #drawing #art #my artwork #welcome home arg #welcome home #welcome home fanart #wh wally #welcomehomeproject #welcome home oc #welcomehomeau #welcome home artist #welcome home actor au #actor wally au #wallydarling #wally darling au #wally darling fanart

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pinejayy · 10 months

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Aizetsu NSFW Headcanons

Honestly he makes my legs drift apart // reader is describe as a female

trigger warnings: duh some nsfw, face sitting, fingering, blood/period play, him being a bottom, degrading, thigh riding, teasing, biting, blow job.

Let’s get this out of the way, Aizetsu definitely whimpers during sex. He lets out small whines and moans. “Please Y/N, I need to fill you up.”

He loves being the bottom most of the time, but there are times that he’s top. He will be top if you’ve been a bad girl or if he needs to let out some steam. “Yeah, you like it when I fuck you right? You like the feeling of my cock inside of you?” or “That’s right take my cock.”

He loves teasing you. Especially if you’re laying on the bed and he loves to finger you real slow and good. While his thumb is circling around your sensitive clit.

If he’s teasing you, you’ll have to beg. And a simple please won’t do you’ll have to get your knees and beg for his cock.

Whenever he’s top he loves to talk down on you. Like for example- “Oh my! Look at how wet you are?” and “Oh you’re such a naughty girl…maybe I need to put you in your place.”

Also whenever you’ve been naughty he makes you sit on his lap, and he’ll make you grind yourself against his thigh. He doesn’t care if you’re crying or begging him to touch you or fuck you dumb he’ll just sit down and enjoy the show. “Naughty girls don’t get rewards.”

Whenever the other clones try flirting with you, he’ll drag you to your bedroom and fuck you. He doesn’t care if they hear you moaning you belong to him and him only.

As I said, he loves being the bottom. He loves watching you a weak human overpower a demon. It really turns him on.

AND PLEASE TALK DIRTY TO HIM, TALK DOWN TO HIM! “Such a naughty Demon…maybe I won’t allow you to finish.” Or “Look at you moaning over me? Are you that weak?”

If you ever want to shut him up just pin him down to your bed and sit on his face, I’m sure he’ll enjoy the tasty treat. “Shh shut up and enjoy this treat-.”

Please pull his hair, he’ll moan your name out.

Whenever you’re on your period he begs and begs for you to allow him to go down on you. At first you were a bit hesitant but he didn’t shut up about it until you gave him what he wanted.

“I get too enjoy a taste treat with some extra sauce.”

He may be a sensitive babey but don’t underestimate the demon. He loves rough sex. His favorite position is missionary, he loves it when you wrap your legs around his waist. It makes him go crazy…to the point where he’s digging his nails on your thighs drawing blood.

Loves biting you, also loves it when you shiver when his fangs touch your soft skin. He gets excited when he hears your cries when he sinks his fangs into your skin.

Licks up the blood and tells you how good you taste. “Your blood is divine, I wonder what your flesh tastes like.”

Whenever he’s upset or mad about Sekido yelling you’ll get on your knees and bat your eyelashes at him. Slowly pulling his pants down and taking his shaft into your mouth.

He groans loudly and tugs on your hair. “Oh god that feels so good my love, so fucking good ~”

His other favorite position is when you ride him. He loves the way your chest bounces. The Demon also pinches your nipples, loving your reaction.

Is great at after care! He makes sure you’re always taken care of. If he was too rough he’ll hold you and kiss you. Whisper sweet things in your ear. “You did a good job my love. I’m so proud of you.”

He’ll bring you water or a snack. Because he’s gonna want round 2 so you need all the energy.

R.I.P. the ability to walk

The other clones get annoyed by your guy’s moaning 👁️👄👁️ like bro!! You guys fuck like rabbits.

Karaku has asked for a threesome once and of course he got told no. :( Aizetsu doesn’t want to share you.

#aizetsu smut #Aizetsu #hantengu smut #hantengu x reader #hantengu clones #demon slayer headcanons #reader insert #x reader #aizetsu x reader #kny

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evansbby · 1 year

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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

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— 𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐰 ; 𝐡. 𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧.

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: his skin was soft beneath your fingertips…

𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦: howl’s moving castle | 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: howl pendragon/gn!reader | 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: nsfw ; minors dni | 𝐰/𝐜: 0.92k.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: handjobs, petnames, gn reader, sub howl, dom reader.

— 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐦𝐞 !!

soft sighs of pleasure ring through the room as rain pelts against the nearby window. warm hands, so lithe and pretty and well-manicured, fist in silk sheets as the knot in the tummy of the man they belong to begins to draw tighter as ecstasy approaches.

“o-oh — oh, oh-!” he whines, his hips bucking up slightly into the warmth of your touch. “yes — just l-like that!”

his desperate cries are music to your ears — you’d spent several hours in his bed at this point, playing the ever-talented musician to the ravishing instrument that was his body. your fingers had danced across his skin so perfectly, pressing and scratching and caressing the spots you knew to be the most sensitive to you, and the noises the actions had earned you were worth more than gold.

even now your knowledgeable hands toy with the hot, hardened length of his cock, your fingers curled in a loose fist to jerk at his most sensitive flesh while your thumb teases his tip with the expertise of a seasoned whore. short-shrill cries and deep groans accompany his desperate pleas for you to let him finish, and you smile as you overlook the mess of a man that you had created.

you’d always found him more beautiful this way than any other, no matter how handsome he may have been in his coat and suits; no, him on his back for you while crying out your name to the walls of your shared bedroom as you lapped up his release despite his sensitivity was always much preferred.

“howl, my darling,” you murmur softly, and he lets out a wordless whine and forces his head up from where he’d had it thrown back against his pillows with his hair fanned out around it like a halo in order to look at you through tear-lined eyes. “cum for me.”

he throws his head back again now as the words hit him, his back arching up off the bed beautifully as his orgasm rolls over him. a long, drawn-out cry of your name leaves his lips and the tears he’d been fighting off finally fall. a wicked part of you relishes the look of them rolling down his cheeks; whenever you had time to fully take him apart this way, you always strove to bring him to tears in one way or another. unfortunately for both of you, he was usually far too busy to take days like today off to spend with you, much less spend hours of his time with you pulling him apart and putting him back together again.

you gaze up at his ecstasy-ridden form through hooded eyes from your place between his spread legs, watching the way his chest heaved and his mouth fell open as he called your name. a smile lifts the corners of your lips upwards as you watch him fall apart, your eyes shining as the arch of his back softens as he slowly comes back down to lie flat against the bed. his chest still rises and falls dramatically with each heavy breath, and his taut stomach shines with the thick, pearlescent wetness of his release. his thighs tremble, and his hips rut upwards ever so gently — the motions are more twitches than any manner of thrusts, and they amuse you to no end as his breathing goes staggered as he comes down this time from his high. he’d been coasting the waves of pleasure for nearly forty seconds now — not an all time high by any means, but still quite impressive.

“easy, darling, that was a big one,” you coo softly, your voice a mixture of comfort and teasing mockery. he whines in mock annoyance, casting an arm over his eyes to block out the sight of your playful smile.

“don’t be mean to me!” he complains, his voice still breathy and light. you just chuckle, climbing up the length of his body before stopping to carefully straddle him, none of your weight on him as you pull his arm from where it lay on his face so you could look down at him.

your eyes meet, and you find yourself drowning in the deep depths of blue that gazed up at you, still misty with arousal and sparkling with curiosity. “beautiful,” you find yourself murmuring, and his cheeks pinken slightly.

“i know i am,” he says in mock pride, feigning whatever haughtiness he could in order to avoid you teasing him more for letting such a simple compliment get to him — he was a vain creature, after all, he knew that better than anyone.

“you can’t fool me, sweetling,” you purr instead, making his eyes widen ever so slightly and his adam’s apple bob as he swallows hard when you lean down over him. your noses are almost touching, and there’s a wisdom in your eyes that he can’t deny — your knowledge of his thoughts, his habits, and everything that made him himself shines back at him, and he curls his toes a little instinctively as a familiar heat once again curls in his belly.

you lift a hand and brush the backs of your knuckles across his jawline, and he melts into you like the finest honey does so into a fresh cup of tea; the wizard beneath you was putty in your hands as usual, and ready for another round once again.

“t-take me,” he stutters through a sighs, “please. use me again, treat me like your plaything — y/n, i need it.”

you smile.

“as you wish.”

#howl pendragon x reader #howl x reader #howl pendragon smut #howl pendragon x you #howl x you #howl’s moving castle x reader #howl’s moving castle x you

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cuubism · 2 months

Text

physical therapy part 4

It takes some time, but finally, Dream's hand starts to feel better when he's painting. Granted, his grip strength still needs some work, and he's had to adjust the way he holds a brush to accommodate the lingering stiffness he gets in some of his fingers, but he's finding it hard to care when a few months ago he couldn't draw a straight line without it turning into a scribble. He'd known Hob was good at his job, but it still feels like a miracle.

The only downside is that once he makes enough progress Hob will surely decide to end their sessions. And while he had said that he liked Dream, that he cared about Dream... Dream is finding it hard to feel assured of those feelings. Someone's feelings can change on a dime, and it's impossible to predict.

But finally the day does come when Hob deems him progressed enough to simply continue his exercises at home. "At this point I think you've regained enough mobility that it's just a matter of gradually increasing how much you're using your hand," he says. "You've made a ton of progress."

"Have I?" Dream is less sure. Some things are certainly easier now, like doing tasks around the house, and picking things up. Art is another matter. Though perhaps he is simply making excuses because he doesn't want to stop seeing Hob.

"Yeah, look." Hob pulls out a folder from amongst his files, and shows Dream several sketches--the ones Dream's made in session, which he's apparently kept. Dream picks up the oldest sketch, the cats he'd doodled at his first appointment. They're shaky and uneven, like something he might have drawn when he was barely four. He supposes he can't deny the progress since then. He's torn between wanting to tear the drawing up, for it's too wretched a reminder--and wanting to hold it close to his chest.

"It's not that I think there's no more room for improvement, or anything," Hob says. "I just don't think continuing these frequent sessions is going to offer more than a marginal benefit."

Dream thinks that the benefit he is receiving at this point is more in being able to look forward to seeing Hob each week, than the physical therapy itself. He needs something to look forward to. He's put Hob's objectively terrible finger painting on his fridge. It's still the only spot of color in his empty flat. He needs that.

"So," Hob continues, "I thought I'd take you out to celebrate."

That pulls Dream from his head. "You... will?"

Hob winks at him. "Promised you, didn't I?"

Yes. Dream supposes he had promised that if Dream's feelings held true Hob would act on them. Is that what he's doing? Dream's growing disappointment swiftly morphs into something else. Hope.

"I--" he swallows hard. "I. Would like that." It's still strange, to have something he wants. And to feel like it may be okay to express it.

"Perfect." Hob grins, gets up, holds out a hand.

"Now?"

"You got somewhere else to be?"

Dream never has anywhere else to be, and doubts he would go there if he did. He takes Hob's hand.

Hob takes him to a Chinese restaurant nearby, and Dream looks at him suspiciously as Hob passes him a pair of chopsticks with a cheeky grin. "Now you are just testing me."

"Yup. 'Course if you can't use chopsticks in the first place then it's moot."

Dream can use chopsticks. Could. No, can. Death would say that he should think positively.

So he takes the chopsticks.

Once their food comes, Hob, the absolute bastard, puts down his own chopsticks and picks up a fork instead. And Dream knows, somehow he just knows, that it's not because he can't use them. He's teasing Dream. Or perhaps ensuring that Dream won't compare himself if he struggles. Or both.

He should feel hurt by the teasing but... somehow he's not.

"See?" Hob says when Dream manages to eat his noodles with the chopsticks. It's... not that hard. It doesn't even hurt. Maybe Hob is better at his job than Dream even thought.

It makes him tear up. Such a silly, small thing to start crying over when he's barely cried at all, even when he'd first hurt his hand.

"Hey, it's okay," Hob soothes him, wiping away Dream's tears with his thumb. "I think the noodles are salty enough without the addition of tears, hm?"

Dream laughs, wiping at his eyes when the tears keep falling. "Good tears," he manages to say.

"I know," Hob says, and smiles at him.

Dream surprises himself by having an actually nice time. He hasn't had a nice time doing something in so long. It feels good. He doesn't want it to end.

Of course, it does end, and he finds himself lingering outside the restaurant, hesitant to go home. Particularly as he no longer has a set time when he will see Hob. He feels aimless without that, but. It is hard to ask.

"Dream..." Hob starts, likewise lingering in front of the restaurant. The lights of the signage above cast his face in shades of violet. Dream has thought him handsome before, but never so much as now.

Hob hesitates over what to say, then finally just steps over to him. "Come here."

And before Dream can decide how to react, Hob folds him into a hug.

Dream goes still on instinct. Then, gradually, relaxes into Hob's strong hold. He... can't remember the last time someone hugged him.

He lets himself tuck his face into Hob's shoulder.

"Hey," Hob says. His voice is so close to Dream's ear now. "I'm proud of you."

Dream hears himself make a tiny whimpering sound. He. He does not know how to be proud of himself. He thinks he would only be proud of himself if he could go back in time and stop himself from getting in that terrible relationship to begin with. But he does like how it sounds when Hob says it.

Hob gives him one more squeeze, then, disappointingly, releases him. "I almost forgot. I have something for you."

He digs around in his bag and comes back with a box that looks rather like art supplies of some kind. "It's modelling clay," he explains. "So you can play around and work on your hand without just doing, you know, boring exercises all the time."

Hob is too considerate of him, truly. Dream holds the box close.

"You okay to get home?" Hob asks, and Dream nods. His ex has not bothered him again, and Dream is now hopeful that he won't. Though that does not necessarily mean he doesn't want Hob to follow him home.

"Good," Hob says. Then, while Dream is still thinking about the hug and the clay and everything else, Hob leans in and kisses his cheek. "Goodnight, Dream."

Dream stands paralyzed until Hob is gone, and it's only then that he realizes he failed to set another time for them to meet. He supposes he does have Hob's office contact info. Still, it is disappointing not to have something to look forward to.

But when he gets home, and opens the box of clay, he finds a note inside. It has the name of a coffee shop, and Tuesday, 3pm?, and Hob's personal number. At first he's confused. Why wouldn't Hob simply ask him while they were together? And then he realizes that Hob must be trying to give him a chance to comfortably back out if he wants to by letting him decide in private. It makes him want to cry again. Hob truly is too considerate of him.

But he takes out his phone and types in Hob's number, and a simple reply. Yes.

#a singular chapter in which dream has a good time!#physical therapy fic #dreamling #my writing #bit of a time jump bc i dont think i have it in me to write one billion physical therapy sessions XD like they gotta kiss sometime #long post

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