#there really is no way to explain all of this without sounding crazy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

Tumblr’s website traffic is steadily declining.

#there really is no way to explain all of this without sounding crazy

samuelroukin · 1 year

Note

That’s insane I’ve never seen any kind of man except standard human before. Have you met a ghost ever

love that sentence it's very good. i wouldn't say i've met a ghost but i have seen some human-shaped shadowy things... also felt the very distinct sensation of a cat walking on your bed while you're in there a couple times but there was no cat :( and one time my sibling was playing around filming the floor and stuff, and caught something like a white rabbit run past? and we had a white rabbit at the time but he was in his cage up on the table so? ghost rabbit (or probably somehow camera malfunction idk). other than that just the typical children singing/whispers/feeling a touch when there's nothing there

#i sound full on crazy lmao #i don't actually believe in ghosts i think all or most of that stuff can be explained by the brain just misinterpreting circumstances #OR i have actually been having hallucinations without knowing it which i guess is possible especially as a kid #either way it hasn't really bothered me so idc #anon #asks

8 notes · View notes

voguesriot · 2 months

Text

NOBODY’S BUSINESS ✹ luke castellan

part one

( summary ) social media au where luke’s sudden spike in confidence turns a few heads, including the head of your ex who just loves to jump in other people’s business

( pairing ) luke castellan x fem aphrodite counsellor!reader , mentions of ex bf! hephaestus camper x reader

( notes ) this feels a bit rushed bcs i’m sick rn but i hope you guys enjoy anyway!!

♫ American Teenager by Ethel Cain

♡ liked by maxwalsh , silenabeauregard , and others

yourusername proof that percy doesn’t actually hate luke

seaweedbrain hey girlie!!! can you take this down like immediately?? not to sound to mean or anything but i can and will find you 😇

yourusername you’re such a cutie perce

seaweedbrain kys

sarahdawson totally wasn’t held at gunpoint for that last pic guys no need to worry

connorstroll we weren’t worrying but thanks anyway ig

sarahdawson sleep with one eye open.

lukecastellan 2/10 post

yourusername sorry for messing with your tough guy image 😔

lukecastellan actually it only loses points bcs there’s no pics of you

chrisrodriguez WOAHHHHHHH

sarahdawson HIS BALLS FINALLY DROPPED

clarisselarue bit sad to know they weren’t completely crushed after the red team kicked their ass icl

yourusername oh trust they were all whining about it the second i put away the camera

clarisselarue good.

GROUPCHAT — chb’s finest

clarisselarue: y/n what is max doing in your likes…

sarahdawson: HES WHAT

sarahdawson: oh he’s brave

yourusername: IDK HE JUST APPEARED

yourusername: like a bug

seaweedbrain: or a rat

yourusername: that too

lukecastellan: he’s on his way for training with me rn so i’ll go extra hard on him

silenabeauregard: homoerotic subtext goes crazy

yourusername: thanks luke but really you don’t need to do that

yourusername: like i’m over him now and i just want to forget about him altogether

lukecastellan: he deserves a hard time for what he did to you anyway

lukecastellan: you deserve way better than that

lukecastellan: i mean anyone would

seaweedbrain: great save bro

lukecastellan removed seaweedbrain.

sarahdawson: oh you took that one personally

DIRECT MESSAGES

clarisselarue: ok when did you get game

lukecastellan: idk what you’re talking about

clarisselarue: oh please spare me i’ve had to watch you make googoo eyes for the past two years you can’t lie you’re way out of this one

lukecastellan: seriously idk what you’re talking about clarisse

clairsselarue: ok fine whatever but HYPOTHETICALLY if you were to try anything with my girl i want you to know that i approve but trust if you go a toe out of line then you will be dealt with

read.

♫ My Love Mine All Mine by Mitski

♡ liked by drewtanaka, hazellevesque , and others

[ tagged: sarahdawson ]

yourusername you’re the only thing i’ll ever thank a man for

yourusername thanks max

this comment was deleted.

sarahdawson I SAW THAT COMMENT GIRL THAT WAS BRAVE

drewtanaka surprised sar isn’t screaming for photo creds for the second slide

sarahdawson bcs i didn’t take it……..

silenabeauregard WOAH WHAT

pipermclean yourusername hey sis can we have a chat please

yourusername nope i’m doing cabin checks rn #counsellorissues

wisegirll i’m doing cabin checks rn though???

silenabeauregard the plot thickens

lukecastellan glad to see you listened to my advice

yourusername felt bad keeping my beauty from everyone

lukecastellan it was a rough time without it

groverunderwood chrisrodriguez now THESE are moves

chrisrodriguez LOOK AT MY BOY GO gods is this what normal parents feel when their kids go to college

maxwalsh nice earrings

this comment was deleted.

seaweedbrain we all saw that comment right…

clarisselarue yes.

DIRECT MESSAGES

maxwalsh: hey can we please talk

yourusername: no

maxwalsh: please babe cmon you didn’t even hear me out

yourusername: because you tried to kiss sarah you fucking asshole

maxwalsh: no it wasn’t like that you don’t get it

maxwalsh: look can you just meet me by our old spot and i can explain everything

yourusername: no

maxwalsh: babe you’re not acting like yourself

yourusername: bcs it’s not her, she’s asleep rn and she’s not your “babe”

maxwalsh: who tf is this???

yourusername: doesn’t matter

yourusername blocked maxwalsh.

lukecastellan posted to their story!

SARAHDAWSON replied to your story

sarahdawson: WOAHWOAHWOAHWOAH SLOW YOUR ROLL WHAT

CLAIRSSELARUE replied to your story

clairsselarue: “idk what you’re talking abt clarisse” oh i hate you so bad

SILENABEAUREGARD replied to your story

silenabeauregard: i’d know that silhouette anywhere…

CHRISRODRIGUEZ replied to your story

chrisrodriguez: i’m a bit hurt i wasn’t told in depth about this before but i’m too proud to pay attention to it GOOD FOR YOU MAN

MAXWALSH replied to your story

maxwalsh: so it was you who had her phone the other day

maxwalsh: wtf man

lukecastellan: womp womp

lukecastellan: you snooze you lose and you lost big time

♫ Nobody’s Business by Rihanna, Chris Brown

♡ liked by jasongrace , racheledare , and others

[ tagged: yourusername ]

lukecastellan and it ain’t what??

yourusername AND IT AIN’T NOBODY’S BUSINESS

clarisselarue ok edward cullen why are you eating her neck like that

silenabeauregard everyone i took the hammock pic thank me please 🙏😇

yourusername thank you beautiful angel

seaweedbrain cute i guess…….

chrisrodriguez I ALWAYS HAD FAITH IN YOU BRO EVEN WHEN EVERYONE ELSE THOUGHT YOU WERE A LOSER WITH NO GAME, I STAYED ROOTING FOR YOU

lukecastellan appreciate you bro

lukecastellan wait people said that about me???

wisegirll my favs 😭🫶

yourusername AWE ILY ANNIE

seaweedbrain oh i’m just dirt to you then? chill.

wisegirll you’re so dramatic percy

seaweedbrain oh so mental health matters until I’M the one hurt? cool.

lukecastellan and y’all were saying i had no game

seaweedbrain okay luke see that’s just not funny because your dad literally dances on a revolving stage for a living

lukecastellan had to bring out the dad jokes because you know i’m right?

seaweedbrain why is your old age pension ass beefing with me instead of talking to ur girlfriend… weird behaviour

sarahdawson too cute i fear

sarahdawson but you i must remind you mr castellan, i made it onto her feed first. you will ALWAYS be second to me. always.

drewtanaka anyone else hear weeping from the hephaestus cabin…

leovaldez it’s really depressing

leovaldez i think he just punched a hole in the wall

cbeckendorf he did

pipermclean LMAO WHAT A FUCKING LOSER 😭😭☠️☠️

( taglist ) @perseus-jackass @harrysnovia

#charlie bushnell x reader #luke castellan x aphrodite!reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #percy jackson x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo x reader

2K notes · View notes

ihaechans · 7 months

Text

Impatient || L.DH

PAIRING ▸ Lee Donghyuck x fem!reader

GENRES ▸ smut

WARNINGS/CONTENT ▸ profanity, clingy and whiny Hyuck, oral (f), groping, fingering, unprotected sex (don't be reckless pls..), jealous hyuck, multiple orgasms, creampie, nothing TOOOOO crazy tbh

SUMMARY ▸Your boyfriend Donghyuck just wants you all to himself.

WORD COUNT▸2k

A/N: This has legit been in my drafts since last year and I just finished it now. Wanted to release something before Die 4 You since I sadly won't have time to make any Halloween fic this year </3 please know this is not proofread so ignore mistakes, PLEASE...

“Alright, just let me know if you come up with any other ideas for the project. I’ll start my assigned section right away. Bye Jisung.” You sigh, quickly hanging up the phone without hesitation.

You love Jisung, you really do... but sometimes he really gets on your nerves. Both of you had decided to be partners for a project, and if you knew he was so clueless about every little thing maybe you should’ve just partnered up with Jaemin instead.

You huff, visibly irritated at the number of times Jisung has called you for instructions or help within the past hour, nearly screaming when you get another call from him not even a minute after you had just hung up.

Donghyuck laughs from beside you, the sound barely audible due to his face being buried into your side. “Jisung. He’s so cute.” your boyfriend mumbles sarcastically, smiling when you raise your voice at the poor boy on the phone.

You hang up once again, letting out a sound of exasperation.

“Don't get too mad Y/n, you know that’s just how he is,” Donghyuck whispers, pulling you closer into him as he caresses your side.

“You’re awfully touchy today. What’s up?”

“Hm?” he hums, nuzzling his face closer to your side as his wandering hand finds place on your stomach. “I just love my girlfriend.” He sighs, continuing his ministrations.

You’re suspicious but continue typing away on your laptop while trying your best to ignore Donghyuck’s suggestive touching.

“I swear to god,” you mutter, staring at your phone as another incoming call from Jisung appears on the screen. “I don’t know how much longer I can take this.”

“Then ignore it.”

Your boyfriend’s voice takes you by surprise. “What?”

“I said ignore it. He’s been interrupting my sweet time with my girlfriend. He’ll be fine on his own for a while.”

You laugh, the seriousness of his statement slipping past your mind. “Sweet time with your girlfriend is watching me do my project? Cute.” Smiling, you run your fingers through his hair a few times before resuming to type at your laptop, unknowingly annoying Donghyuck.

He huffs but you don’t seem to notice, too busy talking with Jisung on the phone, explaining something Donghyuck couldn’t care less about. He would get your attention sooner or later, he was sure of it.

His soft touches against your skin turn more suggestive within the next few minutes. You don’t mention it to him out loud, but he knows that you noticed.

His fingers dance across your thighs, grabbing and squeezing at them before you place your hand on top of his, stopping his mischievous actions. “Hyuck. What are you doing?” You whisper, making sure your mouth is far away from the speaker of your phone where Jisung was still on the line.

“I’m tired of waiting for you to be done. Why don’t you just cut it short for the day? Hm?” He doesn’t let you answer, getting up from his position so he can slot himself in between your legs.

Mouthing “no” and “stop” aggressively at him doesn’t work, his wandering hands already trying to slither under the bottom of your shorts. “Stop!” you whisper-yell, gaze demanding and stern.

Donghyuck simply ignores you, continuing to massage your inner thighs as he makes his way higher and higher.

You try to ignore him and carry on with the conversation with Jisung, a surprised gasp leaving your lips when he shifts your shorts and panties to the side, licking a fat stripe up your pussy.

“Take these off for me baby. M’ gonna make you cum so hard for me.” There’s no shamefulness in his words and he says it loud and clear, the younger man on the phone pausing to ensure he heard that correctly.

“Are you sure you’re home alone?... I swear I just heard-”

“Yup! All alone!” You exclaim, accidentally drawing out your words to avoid moaning out. You bite your lip painfully hard, trying to conceal the sounds that were threatening to leave your mouth as your boyfriend continues to play with your cunt. He thumbs away at your clit, soft tongue placing kitten licks teasingly on your core as you shiver.

Giving in, you allow him to remove your shorts and panties, wasting no time to immediately bury his face in between your legs. “Jisung,” you breathe out, “I might have to call you back later…”

The boy on the line sighs, whining, “But Y/n, it’s an emergency and I need your help.” You could practically see the pout on his face through the phone, a sigh of annoyance and pleasure leaving your lips.

“Fuck…” you whimper, hips bucking up into Hyuck’s mouth as he continues to devour you, his tongue fucking inside of you as he thumbs at your clit.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thanks Y/n! I’ll be waiting for your call.” Jisung doesn’t wait for your response, hanging up almost immediately after he finishes his sentence, which was more than great for you.

Donghyuck seems to take that as his cue to speed things up, his tongue abusing your clit at a much faster rate. Your free hand searches for something to hold onto as your phone clatters onto the floor, legs wrapping around your boyfriend’s head to hold him in place as your back arches off the bed.

“Oh my god. Hyuck…” You’re not able to protest much, his tongue too busy licking up everything you have to offer. You moan loudly, voice louder than you had intended.

Donghyuck chuckles before quickly replacing his tongue with a finger, tongue licking at your swollen clit as he, plunges his index finger as deep as it will go into your tightness before pulling out and repeating the action.

The sensation of having his tongue against your entrance as he fucked you was overwhelming, a gasp leaving your lips as you found yourself getting closer and closer to your orgasm. “Yes Hyuck… yes…” You whimper, hips jerking up into his face as you cum on his tongue, his finger still fucking your pussy at a relentless pace.

You call out his name over and over again as he licks up everything you give him, face soaked in your cum as he looks up at you with a shit-eating grin.

“Hey, I was trying to finish up my work so we could fuck later,” you whine, pouting at the boy as he stands up. He licks his lips, smirking as he licks away at your juices before wrapping his arms around your waist.

“I was trying my best to be a good boy,” he muses, lifting your hips up from the bed as you wrap your legs around his waist. “But the more you denied my advances, the harder I became.” He continues, kissing your collarbone.

“That’s not fair, baby,” you breathe out, biting your lip. “I was just trying to get him off the phone, you know that." He hums, not bothering to reply as his lips immediately find yours again. Your hands fumble with his shirt, tugging it off of him as his tongue dances into your mouth.

He was much more aggressive than usual, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say that he was being a little bit needy. Though you kind of wanted to tease him, you couldn’t keep the grin from crossing your lips as he kissed you deeply, hands roaming your body as you moaned into his mouth.

“God… I missed you…” you whisper, biting down on his bottom lip lightly as he pushes your back down onto the mattress softly.

“I think I can let this pass since you’ve missed me so much,” he muses, climbing on top of you as he grinds his cock against your soaked pussy. “You’ve been teasing me all day.”

“I have not,” you protest, gasping as he grinds against you once more.

“You’ve been working and not paying attention to me.”

You laugh, rolling your eyes. “First of all, I’m working on my biggest project to date. Second of all, you’re the one who’s been teasing me.” Your breath hitches as his cock, still clothed in his jeans, grinds against your clit.

“That’s because I want you so bad.”

“You know you don’t need an excuse to touch me, right?” you point out, hips swaying as you try to push yourself further into his cock.

“You can touch me as much as you want.” Donghyuck chuckles, slipping his hand down between your bodies to unbutton his pants.

“Mhmm,” the boy hums, licking his lips hungrily as he watches you. He wastes no time in taking his cock out of his boxers, the end of it damp with pre-cum. “I think it’s better if I just show you how much I want you.”

Donghyuck wastes no more time, thumbing the head of his cock as he brings it down and slides the wet tip against your entrance. He looks you in the eyes before pulling back and thrusting in fully, the thickness of his cock nearly making you scream.

“O-Oh my god…” The boy lets out a deep moan, thrusting into you again and again in a quick, steady rhythm. The feeling of his cock sliding inside of you is enough to make you let out a high-pitched whine, hands searching for anything to hold onto as he pounds into you.

You grip onto the sheets, bodies colliding as the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room. “You’re so tight,” he mumbles, thrusting into you harder. His hips grind against yours, pelvis pressing against your clit and sending pleasure rippling through your body.

“Donghyuck…” You moan out, a fire building in your stomach as he fucks you into the mattress.

“You’re so fucking hot…” The boy breathes out, thrusting into you deeper. His cock slides in and out of you, tongue licking your neck as he pumps into you harder. “I can’t hold back anymore, baby...” he groans, hips jerking against your own as he pants into your neck.

“Fuck don't stop…” Your breathing hitches, shoulders tensing up as he thrusts into you at a quick, steady pace. You feel yourself getting closer to your orgasm, his cock sliding in and out of you.

“Come on, Y/n…” He breathes out, thrusting into you with more force. “Cum for me.” His fingers dig into your thighs, nails scraping at your skin. “C-Come on baby-” His voice tenses, urging you on as his thrusts quicken. “Cum, Y/n.” Your back arches off of the bed as you're sent over the edge, an orgasm tearing through your body.

“Oh my god, Donghyuck….” You moan out, hips bucking up into his as he pumps into you with more force. You feel him twitch inside of you, letting out a deep moan as he fills you up with his cum.

With a groan, Huck pulls out, smiling proudly at the mess he had made of you.

You could feel his cum seeping out of your pussy and down your thighs, an audible gasp leaving your lips as you let your head fall back onto the sheets. Donghyuck pants into your neck, pulling out of you as he wraps his arms around your waist.

"Can't believe all of that was because of that nerd Jisung. Didn't know he bothered you that much babe." You conclude, your boyfriend smirking down at you in return.

As you lay panting on your bed, naked as you stare at the ceiling with your arms spread out against the bed, your phone goes off again, and you're immediately reminded of why you were so irritated in the first place.

2K notes · View notes

evansbby · 8 months

Text

𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐓𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟓

part v - heart ripped, soul devoured

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

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut, major angst, extremely dark themes, a/b/o dynamic, daddy!kink, dubcon, extreme depictions of depression, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of illness, 18+ only, minors do not interact!

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: The end.

𝐀/𝐍: This is it. 37.7k words. The ending. I have read over it and edited it countless times, but please forgive any errors. Apart from that, enjoy!

PART I

“PETER! STOP!”

It's only when you scream at the very top of your lungs that Peter finally skids to a stop. But his grip on your arm remains firm – like he’s frenzied. And why wouldn’t he be? He must know the danger he’s put himself in; both of you look back at the mouth of the stadium for Steve. But there are too many people, too much going on, and you can’t tell whether your heart is beating crazily in longing for Steve or in warning for when he inevitably does find you. And Peter.

“Look, I’ve got a car.” Peter looks at you pleadingly, tugging at your hand again. He’s dragged you all the way to one of the parking lots of the stadium. “He won’t catch up to us if we leave now, not when there’re so many people. Please, just come on!” He gives you another yank, but you’ve got your feet planted firmly on the rough asphalt.

“I don’t want to go.”

“What?”

Now that you’ve verbalised it, it becomes all too real. You want to stay – right? That’s what you’ve just said, sounding as firm as you’ve ever sounded in your life. Clearing your throat, you take a deep breath before looking him dead in the eyes.

“Peter, I’m sorry but I don’t want to go with you. I want to stay with Steve.”

“What? No, you don’t mean that, you’re not thinking straight, you–”

His voice cuts off suddenly and he blinks. You wait with baited breath for the “you’re crazy” and the “are you kidding me?!” but all he does is stare at you.

What is it that he sees in your face through his unwavering stare? Is it something he refused to see before? Is Peter finally seeing the person who used to be his girlfriend before she cheated on him with another man? The same man whose baby you’re carrying? A man whose love you readily accepted after everything he put you through? A man whose proposal you accepted without even thinking of anyone else, Peter included?

“I can’t believe he’s done this to you.”

Genuine horror specks through his brown eyes, and you realise that it’s not your face he’s staring at. It’s your neck. Your mark. Shock donning his features, his lips parted and Adam’s apple bobbing, he reaches out to touch the jagged line. As if on cue, your mark throbs and you wince away from him. You feel a stinging pain, a warning pain – as if Peter’s touching something he’s not supposed to, and it makes you jerk backwards.

“No wonder you don’t want to come with me.” Peter sucks in his breath, and it’s like his face can’t decide between revulsion or pity and so it settles on a mix of both. “He’s marked you. Brainwashed you.”

Brainwashed? No, no, no. You want to stay with Steve, don’t you? Now that he’s finally turning a new leaf, now that he’s promised you everything? Now that the lingering fear of him stomping all over your trust and ruining it like he has in the past is gone… It’s gone, right? That’s why you want to stay!

“Peter, he’s going to kill you if he sees you. You have to go–”

“I can’t even begin to tell you how fucked up this is.” It’s like seeing Steve’s mark on your neck has incensed him to the point of anger. “How could he–? How could you let him do this to you?”

“I didn’t really have a choice–but a lot has happened since then!” You feel defensive – and what does that mean for you? You don’t really have the time to consider your complex feelings towards Steve marking you, however, because danger is imminent and Peter is refusing to see that. “Look, I’ll explain everything to you somehow. But you know how he gets when he sees you, or me talking to you. You know what happened last time, Peter, and I don’t want him to hurt you again! Please go!”

“STOP TELLING ME TO GO!” Peter bursts, “I’m not going anywhere, alright? I walked away last time and look what he’s done to you.” His eyes cloud over as he grips both your shoulders, “You were my girlfriend first, okay? We’d barely started dating but we were happy, weren’t we? And he took that away, he ruined that. But you were mine first.”

His lips press roughly against yours before you even have a chance to understand what’s happening. And it feels like you can’t breathe, like you’re drowning. Like someone’s dunked you in ice cold water and you can’t get out no matter how hard you push. It feels alien. It feels wrong. You’ve kissed Peter before and you remember it being sweet and safe. But now it’s like you’ve been programmed down to your core to only respond to Steve’s kisses. And the sudden foreignness of Peter’s lips has you recoiling – or at least trying to, except he keeps a firm hold on you, his lips moving desperately against yours.

Was he searching for something? Something that just wasn’t there anymore? Was it ever there?

You don’t have much time to mull over that, however, because you’re suddenly ripped off of Peter. Instinctively, you reach up to wipe your lips, heart beating in a mix of relief and confusion. And then a familiar scent makes your nostrils tingle, and you look down slowly at the fist holding tightly onto your wrist. Blue veins running up and down a muscular arm which seems to be shaking with anger. And your gaze trails upwards, and your blood freezes.

Steve.

It takes the alpha all of two seconds to tackle Peter to the ground. And then he stands over him, cheeks red and eyes narrowed almost to slits. Teeth bared, growl emanating from his whole chest like a wild animal about to strike. He’s breathing rapidly, too rapidly – you could almost mistake it for a panic attack except his face is so still. Not a muscle twitches, his sneer locked into place.

Steve is livid. You can tell from the pure rage you feel in your bond with him, from the way he’s so quiet. It reminds you of the night he forcefully bonded with you, how quietly angry he’d been, how frighteningly rough as he’d taken what he pleased. And it fills you with a cold terror, because that anger had been ignited because he’d seen Peter touch your arm. But this was a kiss. And Steve had seen it.

“You just made the worst mistake of your fucking life.” Steve says quietly, glaring daggers at Peter.

“Steve, don’t!” You grab at his arm but he easily pushes you off, not even sparing you a glance. He’s like a predator poised before an attack. And the poor prey never stood a chance.

“Go ahead, Steve.” Peter swallows, getting back up to his feet, his chin up. And it’s surprising how his voice is strong and unwavering, despite the alpha twice his size hovering over him. “You gave me a black eye once but I’m still here. Give me another one, it doesn’t matter. I’ll keep coming back for her.”

It only takes a nanosecond, a flurry of movement, before Steve punches Peter straight in the jaw. The force of the blow knocks the beta off his feet. And your mouth’s open in horror, a silent scream stuck in your throat at the sickly crackling sound, and the thud of Peter’s head hitting the rough asphalt underneath him.

“I told you, didn’t I? I told you there’d be hell to pay if I ever saw you near her again.” Steve says softly, yet there’s foreboding danger laced in every word. He grabs Peter’s collar so hard that his knuckles turn white, “And you fucking kissed her, you stupid fucking sonofabitch. I could split your fucking skull open on the ground right fucking now.”

His words are violent and so is his threat, but again, it’s the way he’s talking so quietly, so calmly as Peter coughs and sputters underneath him. That’s what chills your blood more than anything else.

“Steve, please don’t!” You try again.

Steve gives Peter several violent shakes, and each shake is accompanied by a venomous word, “Don’t – fucking – touch – her – again, you beta scum piece of shit!”

“She was mine first.”

“YOU SON OF A BITCH–”

It happens quickly after that. But for you, the sequence is delayed, like in slow motion. Steve lunges forward, holding Peter’s collar tight while his other fist lands another swift punch to the brunette’s jaw. And there’s that horrific crackling noise again, fuelled by white-hot anger. Anger and alpha seemed to go hand-in-hand, and Peter sputters and spits out blood and stares back defiantly despite it all.

Were you a fool to believe Steve would change? Blindly believing in his promises like you always had and then watching him go back on his word and destruct anything good that could potentially come of them? Were you doomed to watch the same story repeat itself over again? Hurt, pain, forgiveness. Then more hurt, more pain… more forgiveness. Like a vicious cycle, a path of destruction. More chaos. More hurt. More anger. Would it ever end?

Suddenly, you’re tired.

“If you hurt him again, I’ll never forgive you.”

Your tone is loud, clear and concise. No stutter. Like in the bathtub all those nights ago, when the dark claws of hopelessness had almost pulled you down under. But nothing’s tugging at you now, except the pull of Steve’s promises that he’d made earlier. Did they mean something, when it really came down to it? Would he be different this time?

Steve freezes, still breathing hard and he’s still got Peter’s collar in his hand. Peter, whose jaw is already beginning to bruise and swell. Two pairs of eyes, blue and brown, snap over to you but you only look into one of them.

“Steve.”

His name falls out of your mouth quietly. The moment is brief, but your alpha seems to see deep into your eyes. His lips press together to form a thin line, and his breathing slows, evens out. Then, for a horrific second, rage infiltrates his features once more, twisting them, turning them pointed and cruel. And then a beat passes and so does his fury, as he slowly, unbelievingly, seems to calm back down.

“You ruined her life by giving her that mark.” Peter says darkly, his words muffled because of a probably broken jaw, “You’re selfish, Steve. A selfish asshole for doing that to her. And if you had even an ounce of decency in you, you’d let me take her away.”

“You don’t fucking know what you’re saying.” Steve says through gritted teeth, “You don’t know the first thing about me and her.”

“I know that she’s good, she’s kind. And you feed off of that, because you could never fathom being that kind yourself.” Peter stares up at Steve brazenly, like he knows he’s on the brink of a beating but is long past caring. “You’ve manipulated her to the point where she thinks she doesn’t want to leave you.” And then he looks at you pleadingly, “You can leave him, okay? Just come with me.”

Steve lets out an almighty snarl, his anger coming back tenfold, and he draws his fist back, about to punch Peter again. And you move without thinking, throwing caution to the wind as you grab his arm with both of yours.

“Steve. Don’t hurt him. I won’t forgive you.”

Steve whips his head back in fury, looking from you to Peter and then you again, before his gaze drops down to where your hand holds tightly over his fist. The alpha, so big and foreboding, seems to be unravelling in front of you. Was there a chink in that unbreakable armour, in that searing anger on his face? Before, he would never have hesitated in his blind fury, but now…?

For the second time, the rage seems to dissipate from his face, before it fights its way back and twists his mouth into a snarl. And then it fades away again, like a receding wave. And that’s’ when you realise it:

He’s fighting himself.

“We should go, Steve.” You say quietly.

Almost robotically, Steve releases Peter’s collar. His entire being is tense with hardly-contained rage, but by some miracle, he listens to you. Maybe it’s your bond or just sheer luck, or maybe you’ve touched him somewhere from deep within, but he stands up and backs away from the scene in front of him. You take his hand, and he allows you to entwine your fingers with his and pull him away. But not before he gives Peter one last deathly look.

“The only reason you’re not dead right now is because of her.” Steve spits out, each seething word laced with pure venom.

And Peter’s face shines red with blood and his eyes shine bright with betrayal as he looks beyond Steve and straight at you. And there’s a part of you that wants to run back and help him, make sure his jaw is okay. Tell him you’re sorry, that you never meant for it to end this way. Instead, you take your phone out to call 911, hoping and praying he didn’t get a concussion from when his head hit the ground.

“Don’t fucking bother.” The beta spits out at you when he sees the phone in your hand, and you immediately freeze. And then he turns his attention to Steve.

“She’ll never love you.” Peter coughs as he stumbles to his feet. Steve goes deathly still next to you.

The alpha’s back is still turned, but that doesn’t deter Peter as he laughs bitterly. “You may have her trapped under your thumb, but just know that she’ll never really love you. Because no one could love you, Steve. And any kindness she shows to you is because she is kind, and any affection she shows to you is because you’ve marked her and she can’t help her biology.”

Steve still doesn’t turn back, but you can feel him begin to shake. And he grips your hand so tight, you feel like your bones might shatter.

“You think you’ve won, Steve?” Peter laughs again, “You had to forcefully mark her to get her to stay with you. She feels nothing for you, you hear me? She’s only with you because she’s scared and thinks she has no other option. She’s only with you because you preyed on an innocent omega, knowing you could trap her because she can’t help but do what you say. But take all that away and what’s left, Steve? Nothing. Certainly not love.”

People are starting to gather and get closer, a few of them muttering and pointing at Peter’s bruised face. And Steve still doesn’t look at the beta, almost like he’s rooted in place as he stares straight ahead. You spot a vein in his forehead; it looks like it’s about to pop.

“Alphas like you take whatever you want, with little regard to who you hurt. But mark my words, Steve, it’ll be you who’s hurting in the end.” Peter spits out blood before continuing, his eyes blazing as he ignores the small crowd of concerned people forming around him, “Every day you’ll wake up and you’ll look at her and wait for her to tell you she loves you. Hell, you might even be able to scare her into telling you that she does. But you’ll spend every day wondering whether she truly means it. Whether her affection is genuine or if it’s just the omega inside her that you’ve manipulated. You’ll wonder if her love is real, and I can tell you right now, Steve, that it’s not and it never will be. Because she will never love you.”

“Peter, stop–” You speak up.

“She won’t ever love you, Steve. No one could ever love you.”

Steve closes his eyes for a moment, his lips gaped open as if he’s struggling to regulate his own breathing. As if every fibre of his being is trying to hold on to remaining stoic. But you can see the chinks in his armour, you can feel his hand as it crushes yours almost desperately, and the way the muscles in his face twitch. You know that it’s taking everything within him to hold himself together, and you also know that anything could set him off.

Peter turns and leaves, the small crowd parting to give him space to move. A few people offer to help him, but he shrugs them off. You watch for a second as your ex-boyfriend walks away, feeling broken in more ways than one. There are so many things you want to say to him, but you have a bigger problem on your hands right now.

You pull on Steve’s hand to lead him away from the scene, and away from the crowd that begins to disperse almost as soon as it had gathered.

“FUCK HIM!”

You sit completely rigid in the passenger seat of Steve’s car, in shock over what’s just happened. Your eyes are glued to Steve, watching him through the windshield as he paces. His hands are clenched into fists, his face white as a sheet and hair a mess as he keeps running his hands through it. Finally, he throws open the driver’s seat door and gets inside. And that’s when you realise that he’s still shaking.

“Fuck.” He breathes, looking straight ahead. His slightly stubbled jaw is tightly clenched, and you can see that protruding vein on his temple. His blue eyes look wild, glazed, unfocused, as his hands grip the steering wheel, most likely in a bid to calm himself down.

“Steve–”

“FUCK!” He explodes, the word hurtling out like a venomous fireball bouncing off the interior of the car. He rams his fist against the dashboard, making the whole car shake just like he is. “FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK HIM!”

He’d held it together pretty well during the tense walk away from Peter and all the way to the other side of the parking lot to where his car was parked. He’d pushed you inside almost at once, as if he needed you sat in one place where he could see you. And now, with relatively nobody around you both, his emotions were quick to unravel.

Steve gets out of the car again. And you watch him, his brows heavily furrowed, lips twisted as he keeps chanting the same thing over and over again: “FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!” And he gives the tire an almighty kick, once again making the car shake, and you grip the seat nervously, heart jumping up to your throat.

Another kick. And another one. Each one harder than the last, each one making your blood run colder and colder. Steve looked crazed, incensed, troubled, hurt and out-of-control – all those emotions wrapped up inside one alpha? You’re scared for what he might do next.

He stands there, chest heaving and face still screwed up. And then he gets back into the car, breathing hard. In fact, he’s gulping for air – as if he can’t seem to fill up his lungs no matter how hard he tries. Shaking hands, a wild look in his eye, they’re all tell-tale signs of a feeling you know all too well…

Was Steve having a panic attack?

It’s a side of him you’ve never really seen before. The formidable alpha who never outwardly showed even a hint of vulnerability.

“Fuck – him – he – doesn’t – know – anything!” Steve gets out between gasps of breath, his broad chest rising and falling at an alarming rate as he grips the steering wheel hard, almost as if he wants to tear it off and hurl it out the window.

You surge forward, cupping his face gently in both your hands. Slowly, you rub your wrists against his cheeks and nose. Scenting him. Like how he’d done for you all those weeks ago after the confrontation with Sharon had left you in tears and unable to breathe. You don’t know if it’ll work now, but you do know that if anything calms you down, it’s his scent. Maybe it would be the same for him?

And Steve looks at you, finally looks at you, with bewildered eyes but his nose twitches. His hand wildly grasps at your wrist, keeping it pressed against his face with a desperate carnality. Slowly, his breathing slows down, evens out. His shoulders sag, and then he crumples. Leaning over the console and hugging you fiercely, burying his face in your neck and holding you so tightly you fear you’ll pass out.

“He kissed you.” Steve says against your skin, “I didn’t like… Fuck, I hate that he did that. I hate that he touched you. It feels… It feels…”

It’s like he can’t find the words to explain what he’s feeling. But you know, you know, you know! For once, you know exactly what’s going on in his head because you’d felt it too! When he’d kissed the other omega. Like your heart was breaking over and over again, shattering when it was already shattered – was he feeling that too now? The worst feeling in the world, was Steve feeling it too? You don’t know what to say, but a part of you can’t help but think: now you know how it feels, Steve.

“You can’t kiss anyone else ever again. I hate it… I can’t fucking stand it… I –” His lips catch against yours desperately, biting and pulling as his tongue gains entrance to your mouth. You sigh against his lips and he lurches forward, consuming you with a possessive kiss that leaves you reeling.

“He doesn’t know us.” Steve says, digging his fingers into your flesh, “Fuck him. He doesn’t know the first fucking thing about us. I could’ve killed him.”

“I know.”

“Where the fuck does he get off? Taking you away from me, kissing you… And then all those fucking insinuations…? Acting like he knows me. Like he knows what I feel for you. As if his tiny fucking brain could even understand what we have between us.” He gives your shoulders a shake, “I swear to fucking God, I should’ve killed him.”

“I’m really grateful that you didn’t.”

Steve lets out a strangled sound, like a mix between a rumble and a sigh. “You’re the only reason I didn’t do it. I could’ve snapped his fucking neck.”

You don’t know what to say, all you can do is hug him and hope it’s enough to calm him down. He buries his face in your neck again, desperately smelling you as if he’s making sure you’re really there, as if your scent is the one thing keeping him grounded.

But then his head snaps up suddenly, and he cups your face in his hands.

“Let’s get married now.”

Your heart lurches, “What?”

His blue eyes are blazing with fury and excitement, and he sits up straight, nodding to himself, suddenly assured when just a moment ago he was losing it. “We’ll get married now, omega. We’ll go down to city hall and make it official right now. That’ll show that no good cuck of a beta, won’t it? That’ll show him what happens if he tries to fuck with me.”

“But Steve–”

“You said yes!” Steve whips his head in your direction, the sudden fierceness in his eyes making you cower back. He grabs your wrist tightly, “You said yes, omega. You said you’d marry me, and you’d be my wife. Mine. Not his.” He laughs maniacally, his grip crushing your wrist. “That stupid son-of-a-bitch, thinks he can make assumptions about us? Well, I’ll fucking show him.”

“We can’t just get married right this second because you want to prove something to him!” You blurt out before cringing backwards, hoping your words don’t set him off. “I know you could’ve hurt Peter really bad, Steve, but you walked away. And that meant everything to me, and you can’t just act impulsively now because you want to hurt him. You’ve done that before, Steve. You did that with me.”

You scrunch your eyes shut for just a moment, the memory of him telling you how he’d cheated on you the night you two had fought. It took a special kind of cruelty to exact such a calculated punishment, and you so wanted to believe he wasn’t that person anymore. Hadn’t he shown that by walking away from hurting Peter?

Fire and ice. It’s the only way you can describe Steve’s gaze as he looks at you. There’s frozen fire in his blue eyes, and a look that’s cold as steel. It contrasts against the rage that has his cheeks reddening as his grip on your wrist only tightens.

But then he relaxes, thumb stroking your hand as he brings it up to his lips, pressing warm kisses to your skin. It’s insane, because a second ago he was ready to commit a murder – Steve’s back and forth emotions are giving you whiplash.

“Baby,” He breathes, “I love you, okay? I love you so fucking much, do you understand that? I want you to be my wife, and that has nothing to do with him.”

Again, he cups your face and pulls you close, and the proximity calms your beating heart. You lean into his touch, explosions of summer sun like invisible fireworks all around you. His scent is reeling you in how it always does, and you’re diving in head-first like you always do. His thumbs stroke your cheekbones as he looks at you with eyes that are tender yet still slightly crazed.

“I love you.” He repeats, sounding meaningful. And then he looks at you expectantly, as if he’s waiting with baited breath. Waiting for you to say something back? But the moment is fleeting, and Steve pulls away and diverts his gaze, coughing slightly.

“Let’s go get married.” He starts up the car, and the engine revving to life is what knocks you out of your reverie, and you grab his arm once more.

“Steve, wait! You need at least two witnesses if you want to get married.”

“So what? I’ll call Sam and someone else. Or we’ll grab two random people off the street.”

“My mom doesn’t even know that I have a boyfriend! How can we get married without her knowing?!”

“Your mom won’t care–” Steve cuts himself off quickly, but his words sting all the same. You bite your lip in dismay, but he grabs your hand and gives it a squeeze, before adding softly, “Just text her and let her know.”

“I would like to tell her in person, Steve.” You plead. You know you’re stalling, trying to delay marrying him right at this moment. Why? Well, there were a plethora of reasons. It was too soon, you were too confused, and yes, you genuinely wanted your mother to know before you took such a huge step in life.

The alpha sighs, finally relaxing, but the determined, slightly crazed look in his eyes still remains.

“Fine. First thing tomorrow, we’ll go see your mother. And then immediately after that, we’re going to get married.”

***

You expect it to be dark and gloomy, but the sun is shining brightly the next day as you and Steve prepare to leave. And the nerves bubble up inside you like an incensed swarm of butterflies. Things were moving so fast… Two days ago, you weren’t even talking to Steve. And now you were taking him back home, back to where you grew up. Back to your mother. What could possibly go wrong?

The butterflies grow more frenzied.

“After we tell your mom, we’ll immediately head back to the city, where we’ll tell my parents. Your mom can come too, if she wants.” Steve says, locking the front door and leading you to his car. “Then, we’ll go to city hall and get married.”

You nod slowly, wishing your heart would stop pounding so hard. He made it sound so easy, checking everything off like a to-do list. Everything’s happening so fast, and yet you feel like you’re wading through quick sand as you walk down the driveway with your hand intertwined with Steve’s. You hadn’t heard from your mom since you left for university, and that was ages ago. You’d texted her on and off every few weeks, including last night to inform her you were coming back, but she was always too busy with work to ever reply. She didn’t know a thing about you – not that you and Steve were dating, certainly not that you were now engaged, and definitely not that you were pregnant.

Would she even care?

You get the sudden urge to cup your belly, but Steve’s words knock you out of your reverie.

“Omega, what the hell is all this?”

You blink, seeing his eyes trained on the little basket in your hand.

“Oh. I packed us some lunch for the trip.” You’d been so wound up all night that you’d awoken early to pack a bag full of homemade meatball subs, potato salad and several little boxes of apple juice. “It’s a long drive, so I figured we could use it. I also, uh, calculated our driving shifts.”

Steve squints down at you, “What?”

“W-Well, it’s a long journey, so I figured you could drive for the first half, then I could take over–”

“Omegas don’t drive.”

And with that stone-faced remark, Steve lifts you up into the passenger seat of his car. Before he clicks your seatbelt in place, you twist around to put your basket in the backseat before taking Steve Junior out from where he was tucked under your jacket. You place him beside the basket and his coal black eyes stare back at you as his precariously-stitched head lolls to the side. You didn’t feel right leaving him in Steve’s room while you travelled so far away. This way, he was close to his parents, and safe from any crazy men who might behead him for a second time.

The journey is quiet, and not even the cheery morning show host’s voice blaring out the radio can blanket the silence between the two of you. Because what more is there to say when yesterday’s events could’ve been ripped straight out of a telenovela? Your pregnancy, then Steve’s proposal, then the whole scuffle with Peter which had ended with a string full of damning words that had affected Steve a lot more than you thought they would.

“Why are you being so quiet?” Steve demands after ten minutes of no conversation. You jolt, staring at him with wide, wary eyes. He was being quiet too, but you know better than to say that to him.

“I’m sorry.”

The alpha sighs, “Don’t apologise.”

You almost instinctively apologise once more, before stopping yourself just in time. But you don’t know what else to say to him. Do you just go back to being normal after everything that had just happened? What even was “normal” with Steve? You can’t even remember the last time you’d had a proper conversation with him. One that wasn’t intense or emotional or filled with accusations and hurt. So, where do you go from there?

“Let’s play a game.” Steve says after a further ten minutes of silence and you staring out the window at the scenery, and you almost raise an eyebrow at the uncharacteristic suggestion. You peak over at him, and he’s staring straight ahead. His eyebrows are knotted and lips pursed, as if he himself is uncomfortable to a certain degree.

“A game?”

“Yes. You ask me a question and I have to answer honestly. And then I’ll do the same with you.” Steve says, sounding like he’s reading instructions off a manual. His “game” sounds simple enough, but you still can’t help but be wary.

“I…uh…I don’t know what to ask.” You confess and Steve huffs.

“Just do it.” He orders you.

“Okay, uh, wh-what’s your favourite colour?” You blurt out, immediately feeling stupid.

Steve rolls his eyes, “That’s not what I meant, omega.”

“I’m sorry.”

You turn back to your window, watching the scenic landscape go whizzing by and hating yourself for being so awkward. It was a wonder he didn’t rescind his marriage proposal right then and there, because you couldn’t even play his game right and it was such a simple game to begin with and –

“It’s blue.” Steve coughs.

The corners of your mouth quirk up. “Oh. I knew that. A lot of your favourite shirts are blue. They match your eyes.” You sit up straighter and glance at him but his expression is impenetrable as always. “My favourite colour is yellow–”

“You can’t answer your own question.” Steve interrupts. “And you can’t ask a question that you already know the answer to.”

“Oh. Of course, sorry…” You deflate, wanting the buttery leather car seat to swallow you up whole. You’ve been feeling extra sensitive lately, for obvious reasons, and your fingers itch for Steve Junior to calm your nerves. You really wish you’d kept him in the front with you.

“My turn.” Steve says after a while, right when you think he’s abandoned the game. There’s a pause before the car reaches a red light and comes to a halt, and he turns to look at you.

“Are you in love with Peter?”

He spits the question out like each word is pumped full of acid, and his blue eyes bore into yours as he waits for an answer. You can see his fingers already tapping at the steering wheel impatiently and you gulp. You weren’t expecting his question to be so loaded off the bat.

“Wh-What?”

“You heard me. Are you in love with him? Is that why you were kissing him yesterday?”

Your jaw drops open, “Is that what you think??”

“That’s what I saw.”

“I did not kiss him back.” You say firmly, a part of you not even caring if he believes you or not at this point.

“You didn’t?”

“No, Steve. I told him I wanted to stay with you.” And now he’ll probably never speak to me again.

Steve pauses as if to mull over this information, and he seems to look somewhat touched before a smirk tugs at his mouth, “Well, of course you didn’t kiss him back, and of course you want to stay with me. I knew that.” But you notice how his shoulders relax and his jaw untenses, and he exhales in relief before–

“Well? Answer my original question, omega. Are you in love with him?”

“N-No–”

“Be honest!”

You take a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts and give him a proper answer. “I don’t love him. He was my best friend and we used to hang out together all the time. We’d watch movies and study together and play computer games. I guess we both thought that since we liked each other’s company so much, that we might as well start dating. It was my first relationship and it was sweet. But I’m not in love with him. I don’t think I was with him long enough to explore that, but even if I had been, I think I knew deep down that I could only ever love him as a friend.”

You’re surprised at your own eloquence, and how you’ve finally put your jumbled thoughts and feelings into words. It’s like a weight lifted off your shoulders, but you’re still wary of Steve. In the past, you were never allowed to mention Peter or allude to your relationship with him.

But Steve only nods, relief flooding his features once more, “Yeah? Well, I already knew that. I knew you could never love him.”

“Oh... Well, I thought you said we weren’t allowed to ask questions we already knew the answer to?”

He shoots you a look and rolls his eyes while you turn to look out the window to hide your own smile. You can feel those butterflies creeping up inside you again, fluttering like crazy and making you feel shyer than ever. You only look back when he squeezes your leg.

“You could watch movies with me too, you know.” Steve says.

“I never thought you’d want to.”

The light turns green and the drive continues, as does the game. Now it’s your turn once more.

“Why did you – uh –” You play with the string of your hoodie, wondering whether you should bring this up. But he’d asked you a question about your ex, so you could do the same. “Did you promise Sharon everything that you promised me? About taking care of her and starting a family?”

Steve sighs, “Is that what she told you?”

“Is it true?” You whisper, not sure if you even wanted to know the answer.

“Look, I was with Sharon for two years. Things change as time passes.”

His answer is vague and unsatisfactory, and you feel yourself straighten up in your seat. “So, two years from now, you’ll change your mind about me too?” And our child?

“No, because you’re different. Everything I said to you was true. About how I wanted you to be the mother of my children, how I promised to take care of you. Ask me again in ten years, and none of that will change.” He inhales deeply, “I told Sharon that I wanted a wife and a family to take care of. But I never explicitly said that I wanted that with her. She never made me feel…”

His voice trails off, but your curiosity gets the best of you. And despite your reserved nature around him, you can’t help but clutch his arm and squeeze.

“She never made you feel what?”

He scrunches his eyes shut for a second, his fingers drumming against the steering wheel. Another long exhale and then:

“Nothing, okay? You can’t ask multiple questions, omega. That’s not how this game works. But to answer your original question: No, I didn’t promise any of that to her. She was just bitter that I dumped her, and she took it out on you. And I’ll make sure she pays for that.”

You sit back, not knowing how to feel. It all boils down to the same thing you’ve been asking yourself for a while now: do you trust his word?

The drive continues on for miles and miles. The two of you settle into another short period of silence, but this time it’s more comfortable. You even pluck up the courage to turn the radio back on, engulfing the car in upbeat pop music that makes Steve frown and huff and roll his eyes. But he lets it play, and the melodious crooning of Taylor Swift accompanies you all the way to the gas station.

Steve polishes off his meatball subs in the gas station parking lot after filling up the car, whilst you and Steve Junior watch him. He offers you a sandwich too, but the smell of both the subs and the potato salad is making you queasy, so you politely decline.

“Well, you have to eat something.” He frowns.

“I’m okay.”

“It’s not a request, omega, you’re eating for two now. And why would you pack these sandwiches if you weren’t going to eat one?”

You shrug, trying to hold your nausea at bay. “I wanted it in the morning but now I don’t want it anymore.”

“That’s ridiculous. Just eat it!”

“No!”

“Do what I tell you and eat it!” He thrusts the sandwich into your hand.

“No, please! I don’t want to!” You blanche as the bile rises up to your throat.

Throwing up in a gas station bathroom in the middle of nowhere is a humbling experience, to say the least. You thank your lucky stars that you have your toothbrush in your purse, because the amount of grime and filth covering the toilet has you heaving everything out. You’d thought you’d lucked out this morning when you hadn’t had your usual bout of morning sickness. Well, it was here now, and with a vengeance. You throw up for what feels like an eternity, and then clean and freshen yourself up before emerging from the bathroom, feeling sheepish and embarrassed.

Steve drags you into the nearby convenience store after that, determined to get you to eat something to fill up your now empty stomach. You’re hesitant at first, but soon point to what you want and let him buy it for you. And then he sits in the car and watches you munch on a hot pickle dipped in peanut butter and a small bag of ice chips.

“You’re actually enjoying that?” He asks in disbelief.

“Yes, I like it.” You hold the pickle out to him. “Would you like some?”

Steve makes a face before the two of you share a look. You don’t know whether he cracks a smile first or if it’s you. But you do know that this is new, uncharted territory between you two – much like how this whole day has been. It’s in the little things, how his smile seems sweet rather than smug. How you’re able to hold eye contact with him longer than you’ve ever been able to before. How he’s talking to you like you’re a person, instead of an object that he wants to manipulate.

“I think I’ll pass.” He says, and you shrug, taking another deliciously satisfying bite of the pickle. And you’re so engrossed in how good it tastes (especially with the peanut butter) that you don’t even notice when Steve leans over the console and plants a kiss on your forehead.

“You’re cute.” He says, his cheeks blushed pink in a way you’ve never seen them before, and you can feel the tips of your ears growing hot and a fluttering spark deep in your tummy. And then he coughs and straightens back into his seat, shaking his head as if he’s trying to clear it. You continue to munch on your pickle while he checks the GPS and clears his throat.

“Let’s get going. We’re almost at your mother’s house.”

The rest of the drive goes by in a blur, and as the time passes and the roads grow familiar, the light-hearted feeling in your chest is replaced with one of dread and foreboding. Just seeing the signs leading to your hometown brings back a mixed bag of memories. Ranging from good ones (mainly involving Peter and school) to bad ones (everything else). And your stomach churns in anticipation when Steve finally parks his car in front of your childhood home.

“It’s not much.” You say as you reach out to ring the doorbell, gingerly brushing away stray cobwebs from the brass, hoping Steve didn’t see them, “And my mom is usually too tired to clean, so it’ll be a mess in there probably.” You take a deep breath before turning to face him, “Look. I… I know it’s not as fancy as what you’re used to, but p-please don’t judge it, okay?”

Steve, who up until this moment had been busy surveying the almost decrepit looking street crammed full of houses on the verge of falling apart, frowns back at you. “I wouldn’t judge.”

“Thank you.” You say quietly, although you feel extremely embarrassed. Steve is undoubtedly used to the grandeur and lavish lifestyle that most of the people at your university lead. You know he probably gets more money in his monthly allowance than your mother would see in a year.

But this was where you’d grown up, this tiny house which resembled more of a cottage, with its two rooms and leaky roof and creaky doors. The house you’d so desperately tried to make into a home, learning to cook and clean and sew at a young age just so you could spruce things up at home while your mother worked six – maybe seven – days a week and her boyfriend of the month sat at home and drank, and…

You blink it all away, ringing the doorbell again but no one answers. Nervously, you bite your lip and glance back at Steve, who has an arm protectively around your waist as if he thinks something might burst out from inside and attack you.

“Mom’s probably at work.” You explain, gnawing at your lip.

“What does she do again?”

“She’s a waitress.” You say sharply, your tone starkly defensive. Suddenly, you’re transported back to the beginning of freshman year – Steve and his gang smirking and laughing at you about everything, from your hand-me-down clothes to your scuffed sneakers. Would they have had a field day with the knowledge that your mom was a waitress? When all their parents were bankers, businessman, doctors and lawyers? “Why are you asking me that?”

“Restaurants would all be shut at this time.”

“Well, maybe she’s asleep. She works really, really hard, okay?” You can’t help as your voice grows more high-pitched; your tone more distressed. It’s like the past few hours of easy conversation with him all evaporated as soon as you entered this house. Your defences are now coming up higher and higher – the same defences that had slowly corroded and crumbled through incessant bullying throughout the year. But this is your home, your turf, your mother – you can’t help but be defensive.

“Baby, are you okay?” Steve asks softly, and it’s still so strange to be faced with this side of him. This softer, kinder side that almost seems to have manifested overnight. It’s like half of you is still on high-alert, waiting for him to burst out laughing. Waiting for him to get his phone out and take pictures of the poverty surrounding him and send them to everyone he knows. Instead, his warm hand rubs your back soothingly and you don’t know what to think.

“I’m fine.” You sound so clipped, it’s strange. You know you shouldn’t be speaking to him like this, and in the past, he would’ve warned you for being short with him. But right now, he doesn’t say anything as you both wait at the front door, with you shifting nervously from one foot to the other.

Finally, you sigh, reassuring yourself that your mother is probably just at work or asleep inside as you bend down and reach under the dirty welcome mat, thanking your lucky stars that the spare key is still there.

Steve tenses his jaw, “That’s not safe, omega.”

You don’t answer, because what robber would ever come to your house? What exactly would they steal? You don’t have time to mull over it before Steve snatches the key from you, grabbing your hand and stepping in front of your body like a human shield. He unlocks the door and slowly steps inside with you following on his tail.

“Mom,” You call out, trying to flip on the lights except they aren’t working. That’s nothing new – sometimes your mom was late to pay the bill and so they’d cut the electricity out, but it’s embarrassing for it to happen now, with Steve here. “Mom? It’s me! I’m home!”

Your voice echoes around the room, but there’s no response. Steve turns his phone’s flashlight on, shining it around and revealing the stark, dusty furniture. The stained carpet and cracked coffee table loaded with empty takeaway containers. You always kept the place neat and tidy when you lived here: surfaces gleaming and fresh flowers on the table, but clearly your mother and her boyfriend haven’t kept that up since you moved to college.

“Mom? Didn’t you hear me? I’m home! And my – uh – my boyfriend’s here too.” You cough and try not to look at Steve when you say that part; it still gives you butterflies when you refer to him as your boyfriend. Or fiancé. Father of your baby? Your mother has no idea about any of that, and you try to ignore the wobble in your voice, “I-I know I was supposed to come home as soon as the term ended, but a lot of things came up. There’s – uh – there’s a lot of things I need to tell you, mom.”

No response, and the door to your mother’s bedroom is ajar.

“Omega, I don’t think anyone’s at home–”

You ignore him, and it feels like you’re wading through wet cement as you make your way over to her bedroom. Creaking the door open and seeing it empty, bedsheets stripped and drawers hanging open and closet left ajar too. All empty. No clothes, bags, shoes, anything. A gasp dies in your throat and you shut the door and step back, bumping into Steve’s hard chest.

“Is she in there?” He asks, although his eyes seem to know the answer.

“She’s still at work.” You answer brightly, clearing your throat to get rid of the lump, blinking several times as a wide smile plasters itself on your face. “She’s just at work.” You repeat, diverting your eyes when he gives you a concerned look. “She’s probably working late – maybe she got a new job where she has longer hours.”

Steve sighs, “Omega–”

“We could kill some time till she comes back. Please, let’s just…” You take a deep breathe, “Maybe we can go into my room?” You drag him away from your mother’s door and to the one right next to it. Your room. And Steve is about to say something but stops short when you open your door and lead him inside, and he grips your dresser, inhaling deeply.

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows and his eyes flutter shut, long lashes fanning his face. He looks so big in your tiny room – it’s about the size of a closet, much smaller than your dorm room. And with your bed, your dresser and your closet, there isn’t much space to walk or even stand for one person, let alone you and your 6’6 framed alpha.

“Your scent is everywhere in here.” Steve says, sniffing the air greedily before impulsively tugging you flush again him. The embrace comes out of nowhere, but you still feel the goosebumps you always do whenever he does things like this. And you let him hold you, relaxing against his comforting arms despite the alarm bells ringing at the back of your head.

“I grew up in here.” You answer quietly, still in his embrace as you turn around, back against his front and he wraps his arms around your waist. “I only moved out months ago, but it feels like ages since then. Like so much has happened, and this is a whole different life.” You reach down to stroke your pink bedsheets – they look exactly how you’d left them – and you imagine the ghost of a younger girl who’d hide in here and study to drown out the sounds of drunken fighting coming from outside.

Steve draws away from you, distracted by the contents of your bedroom. There isn’t much left, but you’ve still got a bunch of books and some tiny knick-knacks lying around on your desk. And you’re momentarily transported back to that first day as you watch him rifle through your things just like he’d done when he’d come over for that tutoring session.

“Aw look, it’s baby omega’s diary.” Steve grins, grabbing a tiny, worn-out yellow journal and flipping through it, making you snap out of it and frown.

“Hey! Give that back!” You lunge for it, embarrassed and not wanting him to read your childish wishes and whims that you’d jotted down over the years. But Steve is much too tall, much too strong, and easily holds the journal out of your reach. He opens it to a random page, his voice comically high-pitched as he reads your words out loud.

“Dear diary, we got our math test results back today and I got a B. I cried for a while but it just means I have to study harder.” Steve chuckles, “Wow, omega, you were a huge nerd even back then.”

“Please give it back.”

“No way, we’re killing time, remember?” He flips to a different page, “Dear diary, the classroom hamster died today and nobody else seemed to feel sad about it.” He snorts, “Cute.”

“Steve–”

“Dear diary, mom’s new boyfriend is really scary. Sometimes he stares at me…”

Steve’s voice trails off, but his eyes remain glued to the page, fingers almost crushing the old journal to dust as he grips it hard, and you swallow uncomfortably, blinking away bad memories. Oh, why had you written all that down? Journals were meant to store memories and you didn’t want to remember that…

Brows furrowed yet expression still unreadable, Steve finally sets the diary down. “What is this about?”

You shrug, diverting your gaze.

He draws you closer again, his face distraught, and you wonder whether you’re in trouble. And you know that’s insane – why would you be in trouble? – but you can’t help but worry all the same, the lump in your throat growing bigger and bigger. Steve’s hand cups your cheek, stroking it lightly and tipping your face upwards to meet his gaze.

“Did he touch you? Your mother’s boyfriend?”

“No.”

“I’ll find him and kill him if he did.” His threat is serious despite the gentleness of his tone, and his thumb strokes your cheekbones, and the heat that’s always radiating from him is almost like a hug, almost like he’s cocooning you in a warm whirlpool of safety, where the only man there is him, him, him. Just him.

“He didn’t. And there were a lot of boyfriends – they’d come and go.” You focus on Steve’s chest, not being able to look into his eyes. “One of them hit me once, because it was dinnertime and he ate my mom’s portion too and I thought that was so unfair. So I spoke up.” A bitter laugh escapes your throat, you can still remember how your cheek had stung with pain. “Well, I learnt never to do that again, and now I have this stupid stutter every time I do speak up in front of people.”

You stare out the window, at the desolate patch of dead grass outside and the ghost of a little girl playing there to escape the monsters inside the house.

“Most of my mom’s boyfriends hated me, but some of them would stare.” You scrunch your eyes for a moment before opening them and forcing out another laugh, “That’s why I wore those huge hoodies that you hate so much. It made them stare less, and then I guess I just got used to wearing them all the time.”

You wish with all your heart that you could read the expression on Steve’s face, or maybe read his mind and know what he’s thinking in this moment. But he only stares at you, and he stares and stares and stares, his lips pressed into a thin line.

“Let’s go from here.” He says finally, “Your mother clearly isn’t here and you’re getting tired. I need to take you home.” He grabs your arm, pulling you out the door but you dig the soles of your feet into the ground, shaking your head.

“No, Steve, please. She’s probably almost back!”

“You’ve had a long day, omega, and you’re wearing yourself out. You’re pregnant now so you need to be careful about these things. Don’t argue with me.”

The tears well up in your eyes before you can stop them, and the lump in your throat gets bigger and bigger. It’s no secret that your pregnancy has made you more emotional, but a small part of you wants to stubbornly lock yourself in your childhood room and wait for her to come home, no matter what your alpha tells you to do, no matter what you know deep down in your heart…

She’s not coming home… The voice at the back of your head is beguiling and mocking at the same time, but you forcibly ignore it with everything inside you.

“Please. I haven’t spoken to her for months. She… She doesn’t even know about you, Steve! Let alone the fact that we’re gonna be married, or that I’m pregnant. And she deserves to know–” Your voice breaks, and you will yourself to be brave but the tears are already halfway down your face, “She’s my mother, Steve. She deserves to know.”

Steve sighs, “Fine. An hour and then we’re leaving.”

It’s progress, because before he wouldn’t have even entertained the idea of listening to you. You give him a small smile of gratitude before taking a seat on your bed – he’s right, you are tired. There are so many aspects of your pregnancy that you’re yet to get used to: the unpredictability of your emotions, the nausea, the soreness, how tired you feel sometimes. Maybe it’s something you could discuss with your mother; a talking point, a bit of common ground. You sigh as your heart pitter-patters – why isn’t she home yet?

Steve resumes looking through your things – he really seems to like doing that. You watch as he rummages through your old scented candles which are all burnt down and used up, your pens which have dried out and your other stationary, your old clothes which are too small for you now. You wonder what exactly he finds so interesting about all this, and then he finds a stack of old photographs inside your drawer.

Quietly, he comes over and sits next to you, sifting through the pictures.

“That’s me when I was a few days old.” You point out when he pauses at a picture of a baby swaddled in white cloth. You’re gazing imploringly up at the camera, eyes big and tearful, with your tiny fists waving in the air. “My mom said I cried a lot as a baby.”

“Well, that hasn’t changed.” Steve snorts before a hesitant smile crosses his features, “You were cute.”

You shrug. There aren’t many more pictures from your childhood; none of you as a toddler or any as you got older. These baby pictures were all you had, and Steve quickly stores them in the inner pocket of his leather jacket.

It’s like there’s a big grandfather clock inside your head, and each tick is a mocking laugh as the time passes. You and Steve leave your room, and you take a firm seat on the couch, eyes trained on the door with a concentration nothing could possibly break. Steve sits beside you for a handful of moments before he grows restless, huffing and shaking his head. But every time his gaze fixes on you, it softens. And whatever words he’s got on the tip of his tongue seem to die in his throat.

Ten minutes pass. And then another ten. It’s almost pitch black all around you, except for the light from Steve’s phone. The alpha gets to his feet and resorts to pacing, but you block it all out. There’s nothing in your mind except for: she’s going to come home, she’s going to come home, she’s going to come home! Any minute now…

From your peripheral, you can see Steve make his way into the open kitchen, the space looking largely unused. You vaguely wonder who has been cooking since you’ve been gone. Who’s been cleaning through the cloud of depression that fogs this place? Who’s been making this house feel like a home since you’ve been gone?

It’s not a home anymore, she’s not coming back! The voice in your head sings but you’ve become good at pushing the thoughts out now.

“Omega.” Steve’s voice, loud, clear and serious, cuts through the war going on inside your head. “Look at this. There’s a letter here. For you.”

No. No. No. No. What letter? There was no letter.

“Steve, I’m waiting for my mom right now.” You answer unwaveringly, eyes locked on the door despite this horrific feeling slowly invading your bloodstream like poison.

You hear his footsteps before he sits back down beside you, his arm going around you and you feel his warmth but there’s also this foreboding type of chill within you. Just keep your eyes on the door, she’ll walk in any moment now.

“I think you should read this. It’s got your name on it.” Steve sounds oddly gentle, but like he’s miles away. Yet you only stare at the door, because you don’t want to look at the paper in his hand. Looking at it would make it real, and reality is almost always accompanied by pain. And there was already so much pain inside you, wasn’t there? No, no, no. There was no letter. You were waiting for your mother to come home. She always came home. Drunk, angry, upset, depressed – she always came home.

“I told you that I’m waiting for my mom right now.” Is it really you who sounds so clipped and dismissive? With just that little bit of desperation hanging off the end of your words, as if begging him, willing him to put the letter away? To pretend it’s not there? And that everything’s okay? And that you’re not moments away from crushing, mind-numbing despair?

Instead, you hear the rustle of parchment, knowing Steve’s unfolding the paper. He’s reading whatever is written on it. And you try and focus on the brass doorknob, waiting for it to turn. Willing it to turn but it remains rigid as ever, and you can hear Steve’s sharp intake of breath as he reads the contents of the letter, before he grabs your arm.

“Omega. Listen to me. We’re going home. Right now.” Steve says. But it’s when he stands up and tugs you up with him, that you feel the elastic band inside you snap. The band that was just about holding you together, breaking apart and tearing your insides apart along with it.

“FUCK OFF, STEVE! Can’t you see I’m waiting for my mom? She’s running late but she’ll be home any minute. Maybe you don’t know what it means to have a hardworking parent who works long hours, but if you want to go home, then just go! I’M NOT COMING WITH YOU BECAUSE I’M WAITING FOR HER!”

Never before have you yelled at him this badly, but you don’t even brace yourself for his anger or whatever punishment he’ll undoubtedly throw your way. You’re too distracted by the dread piling up inside you, threatening to shatter away that tiny sliver of hope that you still cling to. Stubbornly, you sink back down on the couch, crossing your arms over your chest and once more locking your eyes on the front door. She’ll come home. Any minute now. She’ll be here.

You can see Steve’s hands ball into fists, and you hear him take several breaths before he gets down on his knees in front of you. For a split second, you look into his clear blue eyes, seeing your own reflection staring back at you. Why do you look so scared? So haunted? So alone? But then you blink and look back at the door, doing everything to just block him out, even when he gently cups your face and his thumbs stroke your cheeks.

“Baby, she’s not coming back.” He says it so tenderly, but then why does each word feel like a sharp knife twisting into your stomach?

“Yes, she is.”

“No. She’s not.” And he presses the paper into your limp hand. And now you can feel it, and if you can physically feel something, then how long until you have to stop denying its existence? “The letter says that she –”

“Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop –”

“It says that she left, omega.”

“NO!”

For one feral second, you get the urge to crumple the letter in your hand and throw it far away. To another dimension, if that was possible. And then just continue staring at the door, willing your mother to come home and prove Steve wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong! But the sane part of your brain that’s trying desperately to keep you grounded makes sure that the paper remains in your fingers. And with a shaky hand, you slowly bring it up so you can read it:

I don’t know if you’ll even see this, but it’s worth a shot. Look, I just needed to get out of here, okay? And I’ve got a new man, he’s got a place up in Minnesota. He’s not like the rest of them, he says he’ll take care of me real good. I just need a fresh start, to get away from all this bullshit. And you’ve always been able to take care of yourself better than I could ever take care of you. Who knows, with your fancy college degree, you probably aren’t ever coming back home. I wouldn’t blame you, Lord knows this ain’t a home and hasn’t been since your father left. I don’t know how to end this, so, I guess this is goodbye.

Your mother.

As the words sink in, you feel like you’re having an out of body experience. It’s like you can see yourself. Abandoned girl left alone in her abandoned home. Nobody cares if you hurt. Nobody cares about you. Everyone leaves. You hear a giggle and whip your head to the side. A ghost of a young girl playing in the shadows, not knowing what sorrow lay in store for her. A girl who once thought of this place as her home, despite all the terror, all the screaming. Despite the harrowing stench of booze and the men that came and went. A girl who was never allowed to forget that her father left her, but never once considered that her mother would leave too.

An ear-piercing, glass shattering scream leaves your mouth. Your lips curl, and then you let out another one. You scream and scream and scream, incoherent and crazed as your emotions finally pour out. Heart-shattering sadness like how you’ve never felt before, so much so that Steve grabs your shoulders and it doesn’t even register to you. It’s all swirling up inside of you and coming out: hurt, sadness, despair, and… Anger.

Some other-worldly strength overtakes you, and you shrug out of Steve’s grip. Grabbing the nearest object from the coffee table, you hurl it at your mother’s abandoned bedroom door with all your might. And then you’re pounding at her door, fists numb to the pain as you punch at the old, creaking wood before Steve’s strong arms grab you by the waist and pull you back.

“I did everything to make you happy, Mom!” You cry, as if it’s her in front of you and not just her bedroom door. “I tried everything to make up for him leaving! I’m the one who cooked and cleaned while you drank! And kept my mouth shut and stayed out of your way! I loved you even when you chose your boyfriends over me! Even wore big clothes so they’d stop staring at me, because I knew it made you angry! I did everything I could, Mom! SO WHY WAS IT NEVER ENOUGH?”

Suddenly, you can’t stand to be inside this dark house. Again, twisting out of Steve’s grip, you dart towards the front door, throwing it open and being met with the cool night breeze. You gasp, breathing as if you haven’t breathed in ages, and that’s when the tears start coming out.

You sink to the ground, which is just a patch of dried-up grass, crying for everything you’ve lost, for everything you never had. Crying for the little girl who grew up in a house that was never a home, and most of all, you cry for the unwavering hope that remained in her innocent heart – in your heart – and how the cruel world around you had snatched it away, chewed it up and spat it back out till it was nothing more than a husk.

Loud, ugly sobs wrack through you. You clutch at the dead grass, ripping it out and scattering it like a madwoman, like someone who’s reached the end of the end and doesn’t know what to do now. You can hear Steve behind you, quiet as if he’s in shock. And then he comes to sit on the ground beside you, his lips parted and his eyes glazed, and he lets you cry as if he knows you need to get it out of you.

And you both just sit there, two kids on a patch of dead, brown grass. Somewhere in between your screams and cries, Steve’s hand slips over yours, squeezing tightly.

You’re still crying softly when he finally picks you up, hugging your limp body close to his chest.

“Let’s go home.” He says firmly.

You look up at him sorrowfully, and you can see the moon twinkling in his eyes. There’s darkness all around you, but through your vision, blurred by your tears, it’s like he’s got a fiery halo around him. And maybe it’s just the dingy streetlights reflecting off of his pale skin as he walks you to his car, but it’s like he’s exuding this intense light. Safety. Warmth. Heat. You cuddle closer, but your lower lip quivers.

“I don’t have a home, Steve.”

He opens the car door and puts you inside, but he still holds on to you tightly, an almost earnest look on his face as he brushes your hair back.

“We’ll be each other’s home. Wherever you are, that’s where my home is. And wherever I am, I’ll take you with me. You’ll never hurt like this again. I promise, I’ll die before I see you hurt like this again.”

He sounds sincere, but you can feel yourself slipping away. Slipping into that dark place, darker than when Bucky had locked you outside of the house and the rain was peltering on your back like hard rocks. A billion times darker than that, and bleaker, like a sorrowful little hole where you just want to curl up in and die. Because what is there to live for when one by one, inevitably, everyone just leaves?

“I don’t want to live anymore.” You say quietly, more to yourself than to him. You close your eyes, willing yourself to somehow just slip and sink your way into blackness, into not existing anymore. “I just want it all to end, Steve. I just want to die.”

From the driver’s seat next to you, you feel a harsh grip on your upper arm. So hard that it pulls you back up to the surface from the metaphorical lake of sorrow you’re mentally trying to drown yourself in. And you see Steve staring at you with an expression of horror, anger and pity as he says your name again and again, sounding almost choked up as he does it.

“Don’t say that. I’ll find her for you. I’ll hire the best private investigator in the country, and they’ll find her and it won’t take long. They’ll find your father too, if that’s what you want.”

You shake your head, “It wouldn’t matter. They don’t want me.”

“Well, fuck them both. I want you.”

You don’t reply, and he shakes you hard before pulling you into a desperate embrace, his hand cupping the back of your head as he holds you against his chest harder than he ever has before.

“I won’t survive without you, okay? I know this isn’t about me but you’re the love of my life and I can’t live without you. I need you with me, okay? Okay?”

There’s a certain desperation in Steve’s tone, as if he’s seen you go to hell and back before and doesn’t want to see a repeat of it. Like he desperately wants to keep you from succumbing to the darkness that’s trying to pull you in like how it had before in the bathtub weeks ago. But you just feel limp in his arms, thinking back to the empty dresser in your mother’s room and how she’d only left you a letter. A piece of paper and that was it.

“Stay with me, okay? I’m sorry for being a fucking jerk and making your life miserable when you were already suffering so much. Just… Just please, don’t shut me out like before. I need you to stay with me.” Steve shakes you again, “I’ll be better, alright? I’ll be better for you and our baby. I’ll give you the life you deserve and I know I’ve been making all these promises but I mean it this time, okay? I just need you to stay with me, omega. You don’t need your mom or your dad, because they’re shitty people and they never deserved you. And you have me. And you’ll always have me, baby. I promise, okay? I promise.”

You sag in his arms, feeling so emotionally exhausted that you’re numb. But his words pierce deep down through all of that, sparking something in your heart through the heavy shrouds of hurt and pain. You remember back when you’d felt this numbness before, in the bathtub after being locked out. Steve had remained silent then, but he wasn’t being silent anymore. Oh, he was giving you hope!

You kick away at the grim reaper’s bony hands that try to grab at you, that are trying to drag you down that same path of sorrow and loneliness. Maybe you’re tired or just delirious from everything you’ve just been through, but Steve’s face radiates with light like the sun. Maybe he is the sun? But it doesn’t hurt to look at him, in fact, it’s the opposite. You feel warmth, fuzziness and lightness cut through and corrode the numbness away. And slowly, fighting through the pain, you surface up and hug him back.

“Stay with me.” Steve repeats.

“Okay. I’ll stay. But it still hurts so much.”

“I know, but I’ll make sure it all goes away.”

Your brain feels like sludge and your body feels like it’s moving through quicksand, but despite it all you manage to squeeze his hand. And then you close your eyes. All that yelling, screaming, and crying. You want to stay with him like how he asked, but you’re so tired, so exhausted.

“Can I sleep?”

He nods as if he understands, putting you back in the passenger seat and strapping your seatbelt on. “I’m right here, I’ll keep the nightmares away.”

You really hope he does, although what nightmare could be worse than your own mother leaving you?

His warm scent puts you to sleep, and before you fall under, you can see him looking over at you. He strokes your hair gently before starting the car up, and his next words are the last thing you hear before sleep takes you over:

“I’ll take care of you, omega. You’re my family now, and I’ll make it all up to you. I promise.”

***

PART II

You wake up on a king-sized bed, on a mattress as soft as a feather with a heavy duvet on top of you. Soft, satin sheets kiss against your skin, and you bathe in the luxurious feeling for about five seconds before the panic sets in. Panic because Steve isn’t next to you. Your eyes blink open, immediately drinking in an unfamiliar room.

It’s massive. And you know immediately that it’s Steve’s room. You can tell by his scent which is potently covering every object, and the warm heat it brings with it calms you down some. As does Steve Junior, who is also propped up in your arms along with a bunch of Steve’s clothes that have been folded and thrown around you.

Someone had made a makeshift nest for you.

You smile, imagining Steve doing that while you slept. You look around some more. Yes, this was definitely Steve’s room. Minimalistic furniture in different hues of black, white and grey. A large desk with Steve’s laptop on top of it, as well as a framed picture of a pretty woman who looked to be in her early-to-mid forties. His mother?

You get to your feet, limbs feeling sore and weak. The memories of yesterday are clawing inside your head, forcing you to remember but you keep them at bay for just a little while longer. Instead, you grab your phone to check the time, and find a text from Steve too.

Steve: I’ve gone out to take care of something. Don’t panic, I’ll probably be back by the time you wake up. There are some clothes in your size hung in the closet. Make yourself at home and if you need anything and I’m not there, just ask the maid.

You draw back the curtains and almost gasp out loud at the acres and acres of land you seem to be sitting in the midst of. Steve had told you his family owned a house in upstate New York, but this was more of a mansion. No, scratch that, it was an entire estate! With a sprawling savannah of grassy land surrounding it. Did Steve’s family really own all of this? You suddenly feel even more embarrassed about taking him to your former home yesterday. The Rogers family tool shed was probably bigger than your entire childhood home.

Speaking of the Rogers family, you gulp at the thought of meeting them. They’d be here, wouldn’t they? His parents? You catch a glimpse of yourself in the full-length, floor-to-ceiling mirror and wince. Hair poking out in all directions, yesterday’s makeup smudged. Eyes swollen from all the crying, lips bitten and peeling. You glance at Steve Junior, whose unwaveringly honest coal black gaze tells you all you need to know: you look like a sight for sore eyes.

Steve’s bathroom is by far the most lavish bathroom you’ve seen in all your life, with its intricate marble flooring and gleaming gold taps. It’s bigger than your entire living room back at your former home. It takes you a few minutes to figure out how to use the complicated shower, but it’s worth it when hot jets of water shoot at you from multiple directions, and you feel your muscles relax.

Haunting images from the night before flit in and out of your head. Your mother’s empty dresser, the note she had left you. Crying till your throat was hoarse, losing it outside on the patch of grass in front of the house you once called home. But you also remember Steve’s hand squeezing yours, and all the earnest promises he’d made before you’d drifted off to sleep, and you feel yourself calm down.

The sun shines through the window. It’s a new day and you’re in a new place. Miles and miles away from your mother’s deceit and betrayal. You dry off and open the closet, examining the clothes Steve had mentioned in his text. They’re all brand new; leggings and hoodies and sweaters along with branded skirts, blouses and dresses. You smile, selecting a cosy, plum-coloured sweatshirt and a pair of soft black leggings.

You look at your reflection in his mirror again. Better, but your eyes are still puffy, although there’s nothing you can do about that now. You give Steve Junior one last squeeze and kiss before propping him up in the middle of the bed and making your way out of the bedroom.

Within five minutes of exploring the mammoth house, you realise that navigating through a maze would likely be easier. You just can’t wrap your head around how Steve lived in what was essentially palace, at least in your eyes. Long hallways with thick, plush carpeting – was that where he’d run around as a child? Heavy curtains adorning huge windows, majestic architecture, marble floors, structured pillars, a ginormous grand staircase that reminded you of the one in the prince’s castle in Cinderella. There’s even a fountain in what you assume is the lobby of the whole house – an indoor fountain! Oh, the little girl you’d once been had always dreamed of living somewhere like this. You wonder if these majestic hallways have witnessed drunken mothers and their boyfriends with leering gazes. Probably not. You doubted this sprawling estate dripping with luxury and class had ever known any type of sadness or sorrow.

After walking by several private wings and bedrooms, you find yourself in the kitchen after a few minutes of exploring. You don’t want to be too nosy, but you can’t help it. Everything is tastefully decorated like it’s straight out of an interior design magazine, luxurious vintage furnishings mixed with touches of modernity here and there.

As if on cue, your tummy rumbles noisily. It’s already past noon, which means you’ve definitely overslept. Your hand goes up to cup your belly. “You’re impatient, aren’t you?” You whisper, stroking your stomach before you pause. Had you just spoken to… the baby? Gosh, you hadn’t ever done that before. In fact, there were moments where you felt disconnected from this pregnancy, as if you had yet to understand and accept what it was. It was awful to admit, but there were even moments where you forgot you were pregnant. Like yesterday at your mother’s house…

“Why, you must be Steve’s girlfriend.”

The voice, despite how soft it is, makes you jump. You turn around hastily, coming face to face with a middle-aged woman, and her warm brown eyes instantly remind you of the picture on Steve’s desk.

His mother.

You quickly clear your throat and smile in what you hope is a dignified manner. Immediately, your hands go to straighten any wrinkles in your clothes, and all the while you inwardly curse yourself for not wearing something prettier and more appropriate.

“I’m so sorry, hello, you must be…”

But your voice dies in your throat as you stare into a pale, sickly-looking face. The woman’s eyes still sparkle like the ones in the picture framed on Steve’s desk, but everything else is very different.

She looks incredibly thin and fragile, almost like she’d break if someone folded her in half. Her skin looks tinged a sickly yellow against her pretty pink sweater with elegant pearl buttons. Her clothes are smart and expensive-looking, but they seem to hang off her weak frame. Her face is gaunt, with no sign of the healthy plumpness you’d seen in the framed picture. But despite her appearance, she shoots you a kind smile and it makes her whole face light up.

“I’m Steve’s mother, yes.” She completes, adjusting the expensive-looking silk scarf she has wrapped around her head. “I was waiting for you to come down. The chef has made a lovely breakfast for you.”

You manage to snap out of your stupor, clearing your throat before you speak.

“Oh… uh… okay. Hello, Mrs. Rogers.” You introduce yourself, feeling incredibly awkward. You don’t quite know how to react to what you’re seeing in front of you. Why had Steve never mentioned…?

But Mrs. Rogers only smiles.

“You can call me Sarah, please. Come, let’s sit. I’m afraid I can’t stand for too long, and you must be very hungry.” She pauses, inhaling deeply as if her words have rendered her out of breath. After a handful of seconds, she continues. “You’ll have to help me, though. If you don’t mind.”

You rush to her side, grabbing her frail arm gently and allowing her to rest her weight on you. Her weight which is next to non-existent. It feels like you’re holding a doll. But she leads you to the lavish living room, where there’s an elaborate breakfast spread out on the ornate coffee table.

There are French omelettes and cheesy scrambled eggs and sunny side ups with deep orange yolks. A large pitcher of orange juice with ice, a pot of coffee and a crystal carafe of water. And that wasn’t even half of it – there were stacks of pancakes with knobs of butter and maple syrup dripping down them, and golden waffles with a variety of toppings including fresh berries and cream. Toast cut into elegant triangles, steaming bowls of oats with honey and nuts, and some English muffins with a jar of what looks to be homemade jam next to it.

You gulp as you help seat Mrs. Rogers down, the aroma of the food tingling inside your nostrils and making your mouth water and tummy rumble embarrassingly once more. Mrs. Rogers – Sarah – laughs, motioning for you to take a seat on the sofa adjacent to the armchair she’s sitting on.

“Please eat, darling.”

You’re too hungry to argue, grabbing a plate and a piece of toast. But Steve’s mother huffs, loading your plate with a bit of everything, until it’s heaving in your hands. You politely take a bite, wondering if there’s an elegant way to eat when all you really want to is shovel this food down your throat. But you try to be graceful, acutely aware of Mrs. Rogers beaming at you as you do.

“I’m so happy to finally meet the girl Steve has been so smitten over.” She gushes, “It’s about time I met a girlfriend of his, and you’re the first one he’s ever brought home.”

“Really?”

“Of course. He talks about you all the time.”

That makes you pause, and you swallow a bite of pancake before looking up at her. “Steve talked about me with you?” You whisper, the shock clearly evident in your tone.

You think back to the whirlwind two months you’ve been with Steve. He’d mentioned his parents a few times, but always as a collective, and he’d never given any details (You hadn’t pressed him because you were shy and also because it’s not like you were particularly forthcoming with details about your own parents). He’d certainly never mentioned that his mother was sick… and you’d never heard him talk to her on the phone or anything. He’d probably done it in private.

“Yes, through calls and emails.” Mrs. Rogers smiles, taking a delicately small sip of water, and your eyes linger on her frail hand as it shakes. “When he first went away for college, he used to come home to visit every other weekend. Not so much anymore, but I understand that he’s busy.” She shakes her head sadly before letting out a chuckle, “I suspect he’s scared to see me in person, considering my current state.”

Your heart sinks. Oh gosh, how had Steve kept something so big from you? How had it never come up?

Mrs. Rogers clears her throat, “Enough about me, my darling. Please, continue eating.” She pauses, either to catch her breath or to wait until you take another bite of food, which you do. “Even if he doesn’t come home as often as he used to, I still call him every week to keep up with his life, and I’ll admit I was shocked when he told me he’d bonded with someone. I told him it was impulsive, that you two were too young. But I’m the last one to question young love.”

She’s silent as she looks at you almost curiously. You can’t hold eye contact with her long, so you just keep your smile up before it eventually fades away, and you look down helplessly. Perhaps she was now seeing all the flaws in you as they surfaced before her eyes now that the two of you were past pleasantries. Flaws and shortcomings that had made your own mother leave you, now Steve’s mother would see them too.

And the images flit back into your head again, your mother’s empty dresser, the note she’d left you, the nonchalance with which she’d exited your life. You feel your lower lip wobble and tears well in your eyes. Oh no, don’t do this here! Not in front of Steve’s mom! Don’t do it, don’t do it, don’t do it!

Mrs. Rogers is stronger than she looks, because before you know what’s happening, she draws you into a hug that is surprisingly tight. You’re rigid in her arms for a second, not knowing how to react. Why was she hugging you? This was weird… You’d never really hugged anyone before, apart from Steve and Peter – but that was different.

It only takes you a few seconds before you sag in her arms. And then the tears won’t stop, and it’s crazy! How could you be crying in the arms of a woman whose problems were so evidently larger than your own? Because at least you had your health! But it feels so alien, how gentle she’s being. How she strokes your hair and whispers “there, there,” to you soothingly.

“I’m sorry, this is so inappropriate of me…I just met you…” You apologise between tears, but she just shushes you.

“Don’t worry, darling. I can tell that you’ve been through a lot and there’s a lot on your mind.” She strokes your hair out of your face and she gives you a reassuring smile. “Is my son the reason for your tears? I know he can be a bit… controlling. He gets that from his father.”

You sniffle, about to shake your head but she cuts you off, her tone shifting from gentle to serious.

“Now, you listen to me. If my son has you feeling trapped in any way, shape or form, just know that there are ways to get out.” She fishes an embroidered linen out of the pocket of her cardigan and dabs at your tears in a manner that seems so motherly that you can’t help but burst into tears again. “We omegas aren’t as weak as they think we are, and there is always a way for us to flourish, whether that’s with an alpha or without one.”

“I…I…” you try to say something, anything, but all you can do is stutter and cry some more. And it’s embarrassing to a degree, because haven��t you cried enough? And aren’t your problems so trivial compared to hers?

Finally, you shake your head, clutching the pretty embroidered linen as if it’s a treasured family heirloom that she’s bestowed upon you, and not just something she’s given you to wipe your tears with. “N-No, Mrs. Rogers. It’s not like that… Well, at least not anymore. Steve wasn’t so nice to me at first, but now I want to be with him.”

Want to or need to? The shadowy voice inside your head mocks, but you force it away quickly.

“That’s good to hear. And for what it’s worth, I think you and Steve make a beautiful couple.” She pauses, doing that thing again where she needs a few seconds to regain her breath. You wonder vaguely if she’s in pain, but the thought is too depressing for you to linger on.

“Is it the baby?” She whispers suddenly, and her words jolt you upright.

“How do you know about the…?”

Her eyes twinkle, “Well, you just confirmed it, darling. And I confess that I could smell it on you. Pregnant omegas have a subtly different scent, I learnt all about that when I worked as a midwife before I got married.”

You’re stunned, but you manage to nod slowly, “Yes, I only found out a few weeks ago.”

A peculiar look crosses Mrs. Rogers’ face in that moment. Budding excitement makes her smile widely, her beautiful brown eyes lighting up her entire face and taking away that sickly gauntness for a second. Just a second, before something inside her dims, and her smile dampens, as if there’s a ticking time bomb behind her eyes that won’t allow her to get too excited.

“I do hope I’m still here when…” She looks somewhere beyond your shoulder, her eyes shining wetly before she takes out another embroidered handkerchief and dabs at them. “Well anyways, that’s wonderful news, my darling, just so wonderful. I was about your age when I had Steve.”

“You were?”

“Yes. Of course, I wasn’t at college but I was working as a mid-wife when I met Steve’s father and we fell in love.” She pauses, either to reflect on fond memories or to catch her breath. If you’re honest, she looks slightly tired and worn out, as if merely speaking is taking a toll on her and yet she continues because she has to get it all out. “We were married within two months of knowing each other. Of course, I had to leave my job, and I got pregnant that very year. Oh, what an exciting time it was…”

She was definitely reflecting now, and you take a moment to reflect as well. Would you also have to leave college and any prospect of a job now that you were pregnant and had agreed to marry Steve?

“Where is Mr. Rogers now?” You ask, trying not to think too hard about all your current worries.

“Oh, he’s on one of his business trips.” She chuckles, “He wanted to take time off work when we found out I was sick, but I wouldn’t hear it. I just wanted things to carry on as normal, and that’s also what I told Steve last summer when I first found out.”

You nod slowly, trying to take in all the information you’ve just been bombarded with. And oh, you don’t know how to feel! You’ve just met this woman and yet you wish you’d known her longer.

“Mom? Why are you out of bed? You’re supposed to be resting!”

You jump at the sound of Steve’s voice, turning around when you sense him at the doorway. As your eyes land on his familiar frame, your heart skips a beat and you jump once more – but for a different reason…

“Steven Grant Rogers, what have you done to your beautiful hair?” Mrs. Rogers cries out, dramatically holding her hand up to her heart.

Steve’s blonde hair, which had grown longer in the past two months, is now sporting a buzzcut. His light blonde tufts which had even begun to curl up against his collar, now cropped down close to his head. The new hairstyle, paired with his growing facial hair, makes him look so starkly different from the clean-cut alpha you’d grown used to. Not bad different, just different.

Steve runs a hand through his hair (or what’s left of it), “It’s just a haircut, mom. Where’s your nurse?”

“But why? Oh, Stevie, is that where you went off to so early in the morning? To the barber? Darling, you could have just asked me to give you a trim, like how I used to!”

“It’ll grow back, mom, please don’t be so dramatic. Now where’s that nurse of yours?”

“Never mind the nurse, Steve. You’re about to be a father, for heaven’s sake! You cannot go around looking like a troublemaking hoodlum with that haircut!”

“I do not look like a troublemaking–” Steve cuts himself off, looking from you to his mother, “You know about the…?”

“Your baby? Yes, Steven. Your girlfriend and I had a nice long chat before you arrived to shock us with your appalling haircut.”

Steve sits down next to you, taking your hand into his and giving it a squeeze. You instinctively offer him a bite of your pancake, which he accepts, shooting you a small smile as he chews. And it makes your heart all fuzzy, because it’s still him, with his pretty blue eyes and long lashes and full lips. It’s still Steve, just with shorter hair.

“How are you feeling?” He asks you softly, and you give him a small, affirming nod.

His gaze shifts from you to his mother, and you see his face soften even more, “Mom, I told you I’d bring her to your room to meet you. The doctor said you need to rest–”

Mrs. Rogers bats her hand dismissively, “I’ve rested enough, Steve.”

“Where’s your nurse?”

“Oh, her? I sent her home.” Mrs. Rogers says proudly.

“What? Mom, you can’t do that. The nurse is here for a reason!”

“Yes, and I felt it pointless to keep her here when I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself. She looked terribly bored anyways, and so I gave her the rest of the day off. And look, I’m perfectly fine despite her not being here.”

Mrs. Rogers doesn’t look perfectly fine. In fact, she already looks more tired and worn out in the few minutes since you’ve spoken to her. But seeing the stubborn resilience on her face makes your heart sink. You don’t know how, but you know exactly what she’s doing. Staying strong, pretending to be brave… For Steve. It’s a maternal thing, you realise – and you don’t know how you’ve come to this conclusion because it’s not like your own mother ever demonstrated this type of behaviour – but you just know.

“How are you going to get better if you don’t do what the doctor tells you to?” He demands, and you see Mrs. Rogers sigh, casting an almost pitiful look at her son.

Steve goes over to help his mother to her feet. And it’s sad to watch, but also fascinating. This is a dynamic that you’ve never seen him in, being so tender with his mother that it touches your heart. And there’s such genuine love in Mrs. Rogers’ eyes, despite how she huffs at his haircut and bats his hands away before eventually accepting them. She stands up, leaning heavily against him.

“Well, I guess I should rest a bit more.” She contemplates, shooting you a wink, “I’m sure you two want some alone time. I remember how it was back in the day, when Steve’s father and myself were freshly mated. Oh, you wouldn’t believe how much we–”

Steve wrinkles his nose, “Mom, please don’t finish that sentence.”

You giggle, and Mrs. Rogers gives you one final smile. And it’s wondrous how her smile seems to bring a glimpse of her youth and health back to her face, albeit fleetingly. Your heart hurts for her, but you also feel a sense of awe and admiration at how regally she holds herself, with pride in every step she takes and kindness in every word she’d spoken.

“Darling, please come into my room whenever you feel like it. I have many stories to tell you, and plenty are about Steve.”

You nod, also getting to your feet. “I would love to hear them.”

“And I’m sure you have a lot to tell me too. I know how stubborn my son gets –”

“Mom!”

“–and I know he’d love to keep you all to himself, but I would love to get to know you better too.”

You watch as Steve leads her away. She pauses when a sudden, wracking coughing spell makes her lean more heavily against her son. Steve freezes, watching as his mother coughs into her handkerchief. You see a flash of red on the white linen before she neatly tucks it into her pocket and clears her throat. It’s only when her coughing resides and she smiles up at Steve reassuringly, that the alpha seems to relax.

“It’s probably just a delayed reaction to your hair.” She jokes weakly, and Steve rolls his eyes before taking her to her room.

You sit alone, making a mental promise to go to Mrs. Rogers’ room at least once a day for as long as you were staying here.

“Steve, why did you never tell me about your mother?” You ask a few minutes later once he returns to the living room.

He blinks, “She’s fine.”

“B-But why didn’t you mention that she’s sick?”

“She’s fine.” Steve repeats, “She’s going to be fine, okay? That’s what my dad says.”

You’d only ever known Steve to be brave, because weren’t all alphas brave? You never knew him to fear anything, and yet right now it was plain as day – the fear and uncertainty glimmering in his eyes for just a moment before he blinks it all away.

“That’s where he is right now,” Steve continues, speaking fast as if to reassure himself and not just you, “My dad. He’s meeting with all the best doctors in the country, and they’ll fix her up easily. That’s exactly what he said, and we have all the money in the world to pay for any treatment or drug or surgery. So there’s no point in worrying about anything, omega. She’ll be fine.”

You feel a surge of pity as you watch him nod reassuringly to himself, and you clasp his hand with both of yours.

“Steve, she–”

“She’s fine, omega.” Steve says for the umpteenth time, and you see that glimmer in his eye again, that almost desperate little glint. A warning bell, or a silent cry for you to drop it. “She’s always been fine, okay? She’s always been healthy and active and all of that, so this doesn’t really mean anything, and you shouldn’t worry about it because it’ll go away soon and she’ll get better.”

You nod, not saying anything more. Instead, you hesitantly wind your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug. You rarely initiate intimacy with him – despite the fact that you crave it so much. Your shyness has always halted you in the past, stopped you from kissing him or hugging him first despite the fact that it was often the only thing on your mind. You’d always wait for Steve to initiate and then follow his lead.

But something had changed between the two of you. Was it in the football field, when he’d professed his love? Was it when he’d walked away from harming Peter? Or was it during the long car journey yesterday, where slowly but surely, you’d let your walls down around him and actually spoken to him. It felt like the first two months of your relationship had been a tumultuous rollercoaster filled with hurt, lies, pain and anguish – along with fiery passion and an intense need for each other. The latter two were still present now, but there seemed to be a deeper understanding that wasn’t there before.

In the span of the past two days, you’d seen sides to him that you’d never seen before. His panic attack after he’d walked away from the fight with Peter, his laidback demeanour during the drive to your hometown. How he’d consoled you after everything that happened last night, and the desperate way in which he’d begged you to stay with him, to not go back to that dark place within yourself. And you? He’d seen you at the lowest of low you could have possibly felt: crying at the foot of your childhood home that no longer was. And you’d asked yourself: where do we go from here?

Steve was changed, and so were you. And that shyness that you felt before, it isn’t all that consuming now as you hug him close, and kiss his cheek.

“She’s lovely, Steve.” You whisper honestly, shooting him a reassuring smile.

“She’ll be fine.” He says, again more to himself than to you. And all you can do is nod as he holds you close, before tipping your head up and pressing your lips against his. And your body shudders in his arms, having missed him this close to you. He returns your kiss feverishly, his big hands rubbing up and down your back in a way that makes you both sigh. Silently, he grabs your hand and leads you back to his bedroom, which is just as well, because this mansion was so massive, you’d have probably got lost trying to find your own way back.

“I booked us an ultrasound appointment for later this week.” He says, and you blink. Oh, right. The baby. Between marriage proposals and fights and road trips and disappearing mothers and mothers with illnesses, you’d once again put your pregnancy to the very back of your mind.

“Oh. Okay.” You aren’t sure what else to say.

Steve clears his throat, leading you over to his bed. He sits down and pulls you into his lap, “Yeah. You’ve had a tough few days and I thought we should get everything checked out. We don’t even know how far along you are.”

You don’t say anything, instead just cuddling up to him even more. Now, with your newfound comfort in initiating kisses, you can’t help but press your lips against his again. You just want to feel him, and feel something that isn’t dread. This morning when you’d woken up, you’d pushed all the bad memories of yesterday aside. But now, they were all coming back. Like sticky, black tar staining the inside of your head, and an evil voice laughing and mocking you…

“Baby,” Steve breathes, slightly pulling back, “How are you feeling?”

Don’t think about it, don’t think about it, don’t think about it. That’s what your mind keeps chanting, desperately trying to erase the picture of your mother’s empty dresser, and her note which you had ripped to shreds. Why did your fingers itch for that note now? Your mother’s parting words to you… maybe you should have kept them safe…

“Your hair’s all prickly now.” You blurt out.

Steve frowns, but he seems to understand that you don’t want to talk about your mother. “You hate it too, huh?”

“No, it’s just different.” You card your fingers through his buzzcut as best you can, scratching at his scalp lightly and it makes him sigh and relax under you. He grabs your other hand, the one that’s not in his hair, and squeezes it in his larger one before bringing it up to his lips. He kisses each of your fingertips, the act so intimate that it sends sparks up your spine. “It’s different, but it’s still you.”

He nods, “I just felt like I needed a change.”

You watch him as he plays with your fingers, his other hand grabbing the back of your neck and tugging you down till you’re lying on top of him, your cheek against his chest. Snuggling up cosily, you listen to his heartbeat, the steady drumming cleansing your mind and making you sigh in relief.

“You look so different compared to the first time I saw you.” You say absentmindedly, thinking back to the clean-cut alpha who had bullied you so horribly those first few months of freshman year.

“Well, I’m not like that anymore, okay? Like I said before, I’ll be different now.”

I hope, I hope, I hope! You think, wanting so badly to believe that… but all you can do is give him a weak smile in return.

The days go by quickly at the Rogers’ household. It’s the end of college and the start of summer, but you don’t know how you feel about that. It’s difficult to open up about everything surrounding your mother. A small part of you still wants to call her or leave her a text, but there’s also a part of you that wants to delete her number altogether. But you can’t bring yourself to do it, and Steve, despite wanting you to open up to him, doesn’t press you to do it.

It's comical, in a way. You won’t open up about your mother leaving you, and he won’t open up about his mother being sick. So depressingly sad that it’s comical.

You try and distract yourself from your feelings by exploring the mansion some more. Steve gives you a tour, explaining all the different wings the house has. The east wing, the west wing, the north wing, the south wing – gosh, you’d never stepped foot inside a house so big that it had four separate wings filled with a dozen rooms each. And Steve had grown up here, so it was all normal to him, but you could see the look of amusement in his eyes. As if he got a kick out of you being so entranced by the riches in front of you.

With your hand firmly held in his, he’d shown you the pools (yes, plural), and the indoor cinema (bigger and better than any real cinemas you’d been to) and the tennis courts. Your favourite was by far the ballroom, this gigantic room that seemed to stretch for acres, with shiny marble flooring and vintage chandeliers that held real wax candles.

“Oh, it’s just like a fairytale…” you breathe.

Steve smirks, “My parents used to hold galas in here, but I always thought they were stuffy and boring. They’d force me to come, but me and Bucky would always sneak out and go play videogames or smoke weed.”

You bristle when he mentions Bucky, but soon forget as Steve leads you to another room. It’s a library, and it’s bigger than any you’ve seen before. Bigger than the public library in town and even bigger than the university library on campus. Shelves upon shelves filled with books of all sorts, and oh, you could spend an eternity in here!

“I knew you’d like this room the best.” Steve says, “Some of the books in here are so old, they’re falling apart. But I guess that’s the charm of it…”

Steve tells you that you can use the library whenever you want. In fact, he says you can use the pool, the tennis courts, the cinema, all of it… “It’s your house as much as it is mine,” he says, but you have a hard time accepting that something so big could ever be yours. It’s all a bit much to take in, going from crying on a patch of dried grass a few nights ago to a plethora of riches surrounding you today. But you nod graciously, liking this relaxed and laid-back side of him which you were slowly getting used to seeing.

But it’s when he’s gone that you feel yourself beginning to unravel. It’s when he goes out to the gym or for a run or to his father’s company office, that’s when you feel yourself breaking down from the inside out. You find yourself calling him, texting him, begging him to come back so you don’t have to be alone with your thoughts. And he does come back every time, and he hugs you, and then you feel okay again.

Steve’s mother is also a calming presence for you, despite the fact that it’s only been three days since you met her. She has a nurturing quality that you find yourself gravitating towards. Sometimes, when Steve is gone, you go to her room to keep her company. (Or rather, she keeps you company).

She tells you stories about Steve as a child (“He wasn’t always so big and imposing! Oh no, my Stevie was a late bloomer, but he doesn’t want me telling anyone that!”) and about her days as a midwife (“It was rewarding work. I was sad to leave it behind but I knew that being a mother was more important to me than any other job.”) She also tells you about Steve’s father (“He used to be a lot like Steve, very impatient and hot-headed. But he’s mellowed out a lot now, and he’s the love of my life. I wish he’d hurry up and come home, because he’s been dying to meet you too, and I miss him.”)

She also tells you about how she wishes she’d had a bigger hand in raising Steve. She tells you she’d been exceptionally close to him when he was a child, taking him out to tend her flower garden with her, nurturing his talent for drawing and painting, even teaching him how to sew. But once he’d entered middle school, his father had taken over, wanting to properly teach him how to be an alpha and the man of the family. She said that her and Steve were still close, though, and she liked how he was becoming more sensitive because of you.

You love listening to her speak, and sometimes, even if it’s for just a few fleeting moments, you imagine how your life would’ve been like if she had been your mother. With her soft and caring nature, the way she was so inviting and kind, the way she held your hand and squeezed it, the way she was so forthcoming with her hugs. But then you blink those thoughts away, because a part of you feels like you’re betraying your real mother. The one who had betrayed you by leaving…

On one of your visits to her bedroom, Mrs. Rogers looks at you with a bittersweet smile on her face, “You’re a very good person, you know that?” She says, and you blink, taken aback by the sudden compliment. She pats your hand, “You visit my room more than my own son does, but I know he’s just afraid of the cancer taking his mother away from him, and he doesn’t know how to deal with that…”

You feel a pang of hurt in your heart, both for her and for Steve, but she continues speaking before you can say anything.

“It takes an especially brave woman to deal with someone as stubborn as my son, let alone change him into a better person, and you have done both.” She stops, taking a sip of water from the glass on her bedside table. “But don’t let him dim your shine. I know how hard it is for young omegas like yourself, who feel compelled by their own biology to do whatever their alphas want them to.”

You look down to your lap, not knowing what to say.

“My son is so in love with you, my darling, that it’s truly you who holds him in the palm of your hand, and not the other way around – as hard as that may be for you to believe. It’s the way he looks at you, how his eyes follow you no matter who else is in the room. It reminds me of how my husband looks at me.”

You look up to meet her gaze, and her eyes are shining again, in that special way that makes her look so youthful and full of life. She’s in a yellow cardigan set today, with a yellow rose brooch on her breast.

“What I’m trying to say is, you have no idea the power you hold over him. So, stand your ground and keep your chin up. He can be demanding, but don’t give in to him so easily. Because if there’s anyone who can make him do anything, it’s you. You’re an omega, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t strong and smart and resilient. Remember that.”

You’re unconvinced, but you tell her that you’ll try your hardest to do just that.

But you still can never be left alone with your thoughts for too long. Steve is constantly by your side, but it’s the worst when he isn’t. Like now, as you sit on the edge of the bed and wait for him to come out of the shower despite the fact that he’s just gone into the bathroom. But the dark voice in your head is reappearing, forcing you to relive your mother’s betrayal, taunting you about who will leave you next.

Before you know it, you’re stumbling into the bathroom, thanking your lucky stars that Steve hasn’t locked the door. He’s inside the shower, and you meet his gaze with a half sheepish and half desperate look on your face.

“Could I… uh… would it be okay if I joined you?” Your words come out rushed and knocking into each other. You bite your lip, shifting from one foot to the other and heart thudding with nervousness that he’d reject you or laugh. It’s still your default to feel that way, even after everything, and you wonder if you’ll ever unlearn it.

Steve draws back the shower curtain and beckons you inside. You sigh in relief, wanting to be in his arms more than anything else. Your clothes are shed quickly, and you step into the steam-filled shower and straight into his crushing embrace. The water cascades over you, so warm as you bury your face in his chest. He’s so warm, so familiar, so him. You inhale as deep as your lungs allow, his scent rushing past your nostrils and through your system, calming you from the inside out.

“How are you feeling, baby?” He asks, twining your hair around his finger.

You swallow harshly, digging your face deeper into his chest as you try to block that evil voice out, “I don’t know.”

You know you should answer him properly, you know you should talk about it, let it all out. Instead, you grab the bottle of shampoo and squeeze some out. It’s Steve’s shampoo – a 5-in-1 concoction that you’d never use on your own hair. But you lather it on your palm and reach up timidly.

Steve seems to understand what you’re trying to do and ducks his head down, sighing raggedly when your fingers card through his short hair which looks so dark now that it’s wet. And it’s nice, it’s calming, to have something to focus on. His hair is bristly yet still soft, and he inhales sharply when your nails scrape gently against his scalp. He hoists you up into his arms, holding you up against the wall so you have a better reach. He presses his face into the nape of your neck, placing soft kisses on your skin as you continue to wash his hair.

“Please, just tell me what you’re feeling.” He murmurs, holding you close.

You swallow harshly, “I just… It hurts, Steve. It hurts a lot. And I’m trying not to think about it because I feel like I’ll break down if I do.” As if on cue, your voice breaks, and you feel the tears rushing forward again, but you’re happy that the water from the shower washes them away. And Steve’s closeness seems to hold you together, and you clear your throat. “I knew we weren’t close but… But I didn’t think she hated me so much that she’d just leave.”

“I don’t think she hates you.” Steve says after a few beats of silence, as if he’s really trying to think of the right thing to say. “Nobody could hate you. I think she’s a terribly selfish person, but I don’t think she hates you.”

“But it still hurts so bad.”

He hugs you fiercely, whispering “I know, I know” while you stare morosely at the bathroom tiles.

“What if I become like her?” You whisper, and the choked words are almost lost against the pitter-patter of the water. Subconsciously, your hand slips up to rest against your stomach, “What if I… What if I’m just like her, and I don’t care about my baby either?”

“That’s not possible.”

“But what if I do? Steve, sometimes I… sometimes I forget that I’m even pregnant.” You look down in shame, your whole body shaking as you voice this fear that you hadn’t even realised you had until you said it out loud. “I knew I was pregnant for weeks before I told you, but I just pushed it aside. And even now, it’s like I’ll just forget, and then you’ll mention it or your mom will mention it and all of a sudden, I’ll remember that there’s a baby inside of me, and it’s scary and how can I just forget, Steve? That’s not normal, and what if I’m a bad mother, and–”

“Hey, hey, hey, stop it.” Steve shushes you gently, with pillow-soft kisses pressed all over your face and lips. He cups your face in his hands, “Look at me. You won’t be like her, okay? The fact that you’re even worrying about this shows that you could never be a bad mother.”

“But…”

He clears his throat, “You’re the most caring person I’ve ever met. You care even when you don’t realise it. I see it all the time, and before I just couldn’t wrap my head around it. How someone could possibly be so good, so pure, you know?”

You duck your head, but he grabs your chin and makes you look at him. There’s water and steam all around you both, distorting your view somewhat. But his eyes are crystal clear and earnest, so sharp as they cut through the steam wafting between the two of you. So honest, that it makes you dizzy, because you’re not used to his eyes ever looking so honest.

“I know our child is going to be the most loved child in the world, because it’ll be yours.”

“But–”

“You won’t be like how your mother was, because you’re you. And you’re the best person I’ve ever met.”

Often, for as long as you’d known him, Steve was able to use his words to paint the most beautiful pictures inside your head. False promises and sweet manipulations fuelled by his intoxicating scent and designed to control you and mould the way you thought. Designed to weaken your defences and accept his lies and fabrications. And every time you fell for it; hook, line and sinker.

But the confident easiness on his face each time he lied to you in the past, was now replaced by a look of earnesty. Subtle changes like the softness of his tone, how he’d stop and think about the words he was saying to you. Had he changed? Steve Rogers, the formidable alpha who had bullied and manipulated you beyond belief. Was he changed? Was this really him?

“Do you really want to be a father?” You blurt out, almost scared to ask the question, almost scared to hear the answer. “I…I mean, not just because you’re an alpha and you have this whole plan.”

He frowns, “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” You gulp, “I mean, is it all just for show? You always said you had a plan for your life, and how it included me as the mother of your kids. I-Is it just for show? Or will you actually care for this baby?” And not leave if it’s not what you want?

His fingers, which know each crevice of your body so well, run up and down your sides before his hand splays out on your tummy. And you crane your neck to look up at him, and it takes your breath away, the tenderness you see on a face that’s usually so hard and impenetrable.

“Every time I think about the fact that you’re pregnant and we’re going to have a baby soon, I get excited. And nervous. I guess that’s how I know that this is what I really want.”

He cups your face in his hands, “Even if we never had kids, you’d still be my purpose and I’d still be content. But now that our baby’s in the picture, I know I’m accountable to both of you, and I want to be. You complete me, baby. I promise I’m done fucking around.”

“H-How are you saying all this now? When before you… When before you never did?”

He stares at you for what feels like years, this impenetrable look on his face.

“You told me you wanted to die.”

Your eyes widen and you duck your head, but he makes you look at him once more.

“The night we left your mother’s house, you told me you wanted to die. And I fucking couldn’t stand the look on your face, like you had no hope or happiness left inside you.”

“B-But that was because of my mom, not you…”

“It might as well have been because of me. I know your mom hurt you, but so did I. You had already gone through so much when we met, and all I did was make your life even worse.” He sucks in a breath, swiping water droplets off your face and cupping your cheek, so you can’t look away even if you wanted to.

“I used to be obsessed with my mom’s flower garden when I was younger. I’d always pluck the flowers because I wanted them to be mine, but they’d always wilt and die.” He kisses you, desperately, roughly, as he whispers against your lips, “I don’t want you to die, okay? I don’t want to lose you. And even if you’re physically here but emotionally gone… I think I’d lose it. And I can’t lose it, so I need to be better.”

You surge up and kiss him back doubly hard, your arms winding around his neck and drawing him closer, closer, closer till you both can’t breathe from the rapid, feverish kisses. Wasn’t this what you’d been subconsciously wanting from him since the very beginning? Despite everything, you’d had a crush on him since the start, and how badly you’d wanted him to like you. How badly you’d wanted him to change once he’d claimed you. How badly you’d wanted him to be your knight in shining armour, the gallant prince like from all the fairytales you’d read growing up. Instead, he’d been hurtful and manipulative. But now? Oh, he was saying what you’d always wanted him to say!

“I’m not gonna die, Steve. I promise, I’m right here.”

His dick slips inside you before you even realise it, but you welcome the slight discomfort of his large member easing its way up your hole. He hoists you up higher, pressing your legs further apart so he can drive himself deeper into you. In turn, you wrap your legs around his waist as you both moan into each other’s mouths when he bottoms out inside of you.

“You missed my dick?” He asks you in your ear, and you can feel the smile on his lips, his usual cockiness returning slowly, as if he can’t help himself.

“Y-Yeah.” You answer, despite the fact that you’d last had sex with him only a few days ago after the big game. But it felt like you’d lived an eternity since then, and you wanted him all the time.

“Yeah? You missed how I stretch your little baby pussy out?”

“Yes!”

He sighs, “Good. I missed being inside you.”

He ruts against you, and you have a feeling he’s trying to be slow and sensual but it’s like he can’t help but quicken his pace. You don’t mind, though. It’s like you need him fucking you to clear your mind of all your worries.

“You’re so tight, baby,” he grunts before pressing his forehead against yours, holding your body with just one muscular arm, while his other hand slips down to press against your clit. “So tiny and tight, baby omega. Tell me, does my dick feel good?”

“Yes, daddy,” you sigh, head lolling to the side at the feel of his huge member sliding in and out of you, the friction so delicious, not to mention the sparks of hot pleasure from him playing with your clit. You gasp when his mouth moves to hover over his mark on your neck, and he tongues your mating gland in a way that has you spasming in his arms.

“Daddy wants to eat your pussy so bad, baby girl.” He murmurs suddenly into your neck, making your eyes pop open in shock. You walls flutter around him violently, swallowing his dick in as you grind closer, so utterly turned on by his words. The way he’d gone from earnest declarations of love to “daddy wants to eat your pussy” was admittedly funny, although the last thing you’re compelled to do right now is laugh. You’re way too turned on to laugh.

“Please,” you utter when he goes to pull out of you, grabbing his arm, “Want you to stay inside me, daddy.”

He can’t help but smirk, “Let me make you feel good.”

He sets you down before getting on his knees in front of you. He takes one of your legs, hooking it over his shoulder so your bare pussy is on display for him. Carnally, he licks his lips, and your hands immediately go down to fist his hair. It’s buzzed off, but you make do. You have no choice, because he chooses that moment to wrap his lips around your clit, sucking down harshly.

“Oh, fuck!” You whimper, clutching at his short hair.

“Such a good little girl,” Steve says, voice muffled but it’s like the two of you are in a bubble so you can still hear him loud and clear. “Such a good little baby omega, always so good to me aren’t you, baby?”

He slaps your pussy lightly, a glimmer in his eye as he watches you spasm in his arms. He’s got one hand gripping your thigh tightly as it rests on his shoulder, the other holding your hip firmly so you don’t topple over (which is very likely given the intense amounts of pleasure you’re already feeling).

“Answer me, baby. I need to hear you.” Steve slaps your pussy again, the squelching sound so lewd as your wetness seeps down your thighs. You let out a choked whisper of his name, looking down at him pleadingly but all he does is slap your pussy again, this time squarely catching your clit and making you scream.

“Oh, oh–daddy!”

Steve’s tongue licks up your slit, lapping at your wetness while his hands roam your wet body. Slipping up to squeeze your breasts and play with your hard nipples, twisting them till they’re bruising with pain. But oh, you don’t even care! Your body feels like it’s floating in waves of pleasure administered by him. He grabs your hand and squeezes it, the act so intimate compared to the way he’s lewdly making out with your pussy, and you feel your heart flutter.

He keeps holding your hand, and you stare at your intertwined fingers till they blur your vision. Or maybe it’s Steve sucking on your clit that blurs your vision, his tongue circling around your bundle of nerves, making you so sensitive and bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

And he’s watching you the whole time, watching as you buck your hips into his mouth like you can’t help it. Watching as you cry at the pleasure, clutch at him and squeeze his hand back, and you hold his gaze as best you can. Could he also feel like the two of you were in some sort of impenetrable bubble? Like you’d gone through hell and back and now nothing could touch you or hurt you or interrupt what the two of you had?

“You’re so beautiful,” Steve says quietly, except it’s amplified in your ears. You don’t know if you believe him but his eyes are earnest and shining. You’re automatically about to tell him thank you, except he chooses that moment to press three fingers inside of you, making your knees buckle. But he has a firm hold on you, keeping you in place and pressing kisses all over your hips and thighs before returning his attention to your clit. “So, so beautiful, baby. The most beautiful person I’ve ever seen, and guess what?”

“Wh-What?” you breathe, peering down at him in a mix of awe and lust.

He smirks, “Your little baby pussy’s pretty too. But I wonder if she can take three of daddy’s fingers?”

Of course. Maybe you should grow used to the way he’s seamlessly shifting from romantic to lewd, and you’re even about to crack a smile at how comical his switches are. But instead, you squeak, eyes widening and a cry dying in your throat as he begins to fuck you with his thick fingers. Your walls are snug around his digits, and it burns because his fingers are so big and thick. But you don’t care, don’t care at all! Especially when he brushes that spot inside you that only he could ever find, making you fall forward till he catches you, and you’re whimpering and meeting his thrusts.

“Mmm, what a greedy little pussy, she’s just crying for her daddy, isn’t she?” Steve smiles wickedly, now lazily licking at your clit while he peers down at his fingers entering you at a rapid pace. “Fuck yourself on my fingers, baby. Let me make you cum.”

You don’t need to be told twice, your hips already bucking wildly, wanting his fingers to go deeper. And they’re so big and it hurts so good and yet you want his dick back inside you, which is even bigger. “S-So good, daddy,” you whimper, your body shuddering over how badly you needed this. All the pent-up sorrow, stress, anger from the past few days was all building up and ready to be released.

“Rub your little baby cunt on daddy’s face, omega.” Steve orders you, his voice so deep with lust. Of course, you’re too shy to do that but it’s like he anticipated that. And so he grabs your hips, grinding your pussy all over his face. And you gasp audibly, because he hasn’t shaved for a few days now and his stubble is so deliciously rough. The sensation is new, it’s different but you can’t say you don’t love it. And it’s like Steve’s forgotten about breathing, clutching your ass from behind and squeezing your ass cheeks as he pushes you closer into his face. Your pussy is effectively smothering his face, and you feel his nose nudge against your clit, and his fingers quicken in pace, so deep, so good, and…

You squirt all over his face. And it surprises you how it just won’t stop, your cream squirting out of you at an alarming rate, leaving a thin glaze on his face and catching on his stubble. And he laps at your cunt freely, coaxing your orgasm out of you while you quiver, your knees buckling again. You’re in a standing position – barely – but you can barely feel your legs and you know he’s holding you up otherwise you’d be on the floor right now.

“That’s such a good baby,” Steve coos, tonguing your pussy as it spasms, fingers still fucking into you, “Cumming so nicely for daddy, doing exactly what you’re told to do. You like making daddy happy like that, don’t you, baby omega?”

“Y-Yeah, daddy,” you pant, barely able to breathe let alone hold a dirty conversation right now.

In a second, Steve’s on his feet once more, and he’s got you up in his arms again. Your limbs feel useless, legs hanging as he hoists you up against the wall. But you jolt back into alertness when he pistons his dick inside of you, catching you by surprise. You whimper his name, nails already clawing at his back because it’s too much, your body still recovering from your orgasm. But the feeling is a good kind of overwhelming, as if you can’t get enough of him despite your body twitching in oversensitivity.

You bite your lip, focusing on his arm as it holds you in place against the wall. God, he was so big, every inch of him rippling with solid muscle. And it was such a turn on, how easily he held you up with just his one arm, the other one holding your hip in place while he drove his dick inside you again and again.

“You’re so big and strong,” you blurt out before your eyes widen in alarm at your slip, and you duck your head embarrassedly.

Steve groans, and you feel his dick twitch inside you before he increases his pace slightly. “Fuck, baby, I’m trying to go easy on you. But when you say things like that, it makes me want to lose control.”

“Do it,” you urge him, feeling extremely submissive, “Please, daddy, fuck me hard.”

Steve chuckles, peppering the top of your head with kisses before you look up once more, and then he bites at your lip. “Daddy would love nothing more, baby girl. But I gotta go easy on you a little bit, you know, since I knocked you up.”

And just saying that gets Steve more incensed, and his eyes flutter down to your belly, which he splays his hand over. He starts fucking you harder, his hips a blur as his dick disappears inside you. And once or twice you forget how to breathe, but you still feel safe because you’re in his arms and who needs to breathe when Steve’s there? When he’s looking at you with such intensity? When he’s fucking you so hard yet his thumb is rubbing so gently on your belly?

You cum again before you know what’s even happening, your walls pulsating around his dick so deliciously and it makes Steve’s hips stutter. You cry out his name over and over again, so overwhelmed my pleasure and other emotions. Encased in your little bubble with Steve, where it’s just the two of you and your pants and cries and gasps and moans.

“That’s my good little girl,” Steve praises, his words making you glow despite everything. “Cumming just for daddy. But I want your baby pussy to give me another one, okay, baby?”

“Wh-What? Another…? Steve, I can’t–”

“One more, baby. You can do it for daddy.” Steve encourages softly, and again his fingers slip down to play with your sensitive clit. “Cum once more, baby, before daddy fills you up and knocks you up again.”

Well, that wasn’t entirely possible but with Steve… who knew? And you were still so overly sensitive, but if anything could put you over the edge it was his words. Along with his expert fingers who knew your body so well after two months. Better than anyone else ever did. His thumb rubs at your bundle of nerves, circling and rubbing, pressing down and pinching it till you feel like you’re going to pass out, and it’s too much and yet your body feels like it’s about to spontaneously combust, and…

“That’s my good fucking girl,” Steve says proudly when you squirt all over his dick once more, falling like a dead weight in his arms as your body spasms. Your hips buck wildly and your toes curl as you cum so hard, you see stars. And you whimper your alpha’s name, you whimper daddy as you scratch and claw at him and he holds you close, telling you how good you are for him, how you’re such a perfect angel, and how you did so good.

He squeezes you hard against him as he blows his load inside you, keeping you in place so he can fill you up till the brim. Till thick ropes of his cum cover your insides, searing your walls and marking you as his forever and only his. And your mind is made up that this is exactly where you want to be, and despite all your other confusion, you kiss him fiercely, welcoming the feel of him releasing inside you. And you stay like that for a while, him holding you close while you just hold each other.

“I love you.” He whispers in your ear, his embrace all-consuming as he clutches you against him. Your body is slippery and wet and spent and you cling to him and hum in satisfaction. He pauses to kiss up your jaw before he pecks your nose, “Baby, I love you so much.”

A long pause, and all you can hear is the pitter-patter of the water and the pitter-patter of his heart. You wonder if this is what being content feels like. Just right now, inside this shower where it’s just him and you and none of your other problems can reach you. Where all you can see is him and smell is him and touch is him. Your own personal little slice of heaven, even just for a little while.

You don’t even notice that Steve’s holding his breath until he exhales heavily, and cups your face to make you look up at him. And his voice comes out soft, so soft it’s almost drowned out by the sound of the shower stream.

“You love me too, don’t you?”

You hesitate, a lump forming in your throat and your chest tightening. A billion thoughts rush in and out of your head, creating a whirlpool of confusion within you. You open your mouth, but it feels dry as cotton. And all that comes out is a little croak and a squeak. Oh god, oh god, oh god. Why couldn’t you say it? Weren’t you just thinking of how content you feel right now, with him? So then why the heck couldn’t you say it?

Abruptly, Steve’s hands drop to his sides and he steps away from you. You feel like you’ve been doused by a bucket of ice-cold water at the loss of contact, like the light within you has lost its fuse. You feel an unrest in your bond with him, and you know he’s hurt. Before you can grab his hand, he steps out of the shower and wraps a towel around his waist, avoiding your gaze.

You stand there alone as the water pours all over you, watching as he makes his way out of the bathroom. A part of you can’t believe it, because just a second ago he was being so perfect and honest and raw and intimate, and then you had to go ruin it by being unable to say what he wanted to hear! But he pauses at the door, looking back at you.

“I guess Peter was right, huh? You won’t ever love me.”

“Steve, it’s not that–”

“I’m not a fool, okay? I know I don’t deserve you. I definitely don’t deserve your love after everything I’ve put you through.”

“Steve–”

“But I’m too selfish to ever let you go.”

He leaves, slamming the bathroom door behind him. Your heart jumps all the way to your throat, and you scramble to follow after him. Before you know what’s happening, you lose your balance, slipping on the wet surface underneath you. But you grab on to the shower curtain just in time, steadying yourself and planting your feet firmly on the floor before you can fall. You breathe hard, your heart hammering crazily in your chest. Your hand automatically slips up to cradle your stomach, and you take a few deep breaths to calm yourself down.

Cautiously, almost at a snail’s pace, you turn the shower off and carefully step out of the tub. Every step you take seems to scare you, but you manage to dry off and put your clothes on before entering the bedroom.

He’s gone. The bed is empty and you’re the only one in the room.

Oh God, oh God, oh God… He left! The back of your mind whirs to life, thoughts immediately working into overdrive in five seconds flat. He’s gone! You couldn’t say you loved him and now he’s gone! You pace the room, inky darkness spreading within you like poison. That same hopelessness because it was happening all over again! He left you. And where would he go? What would he do? The image of him kissing another omega flickers in your mind, making you want to throw up.

You rush to throw the door open, peaking out into the massive, empty corridor. Marble flooring, exquisite tapestry and expensive art hung on the wall – but no Steve. You pitifully call out his name, the sound echoing around the hallway as if to mock you.

He left you! The cruel voice inside your head cackles. Your mom left you and your dad left you and now Steve left you too! You feel yourself being pulled under again, by that damning force inside that seems to want you to be sad forever. Your heart feels like it’s being squeezed by the icy cold hands of the grim reaper himself, pulling you down, down, down. You collapse on the bed, curling up into foetal position as you will yourself not to cry.

Eventually, you hear the bedroom door open. You don’t know if it’s been ten minutes or an hour, the haunting voice inside your brain making you lose track of the time. But you feel his strong arms pulling you back up, just like they always do.

“Hey,” He says gently, before frowning, “You’re crying.”

“You left.”

“I didn’t leave, I just…” He grips you tighter, cupping your face and making you look at him, and there’s a certain desperation in his actions, as if it’s dawning on him just how fucked up you are inside. “I just went outside for a while.”

“You were mad at me.” You draw in a breath, unable to look at him. “L-Last time you were mad, you…you…” A feral need to smell him overtakes you, and just like last time, your face collides with his chest, nose twitching as it sniffs all over him. Trying to detect a scent other than his own, the picture of him kissing another omega flashing behind your eyes once more.

But all you smell is a hot summer’s day speckled with cigarette smoke. And Steve’s thumbs swipe away your tears like they have countless times before.

“I’m not mad at you. I was just… mad at myself.” He breathes, an almost pained look on his face as he watches you cry softly in his arms. “Look, I’m trying to change, okay? I want to change for you, but it won’t happen overnight. God, I wish it would, but it won’t. I felt myself getting angry, and so I left the situation. But I was only outside. I didn’t leave you.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t say it, Steve.”

He presses a soft kiss on your nose, then your cheeks, then your forehead. “Don’t be. I haven’t given you a reason to say it. But it doesn’t mean I don’t mean it when I say it.” He sighs, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear, a wistfully bittersweet look on his face, “I wish I had been different…”

You don’t know what to say, so instead you just hug him hard, finding solace in his rich scent as you snuggle your face into his sweater.

“I know you don’t trust me. But I promise I’ll be better for you, omega.” The pads of his thumbs never stop stroking your cheekbones, and the action feels so soft, so tender, glass butterflies flying around in your tummy as he speaks. “Remember what I told you outside your mom’s house?”

You sniffle and nod.

“What did I tell you?”

“Th-That we’re each other’s home.”

“That’s right. Which means I’ll stick by you until the day I die. And I know that sounds cheesy as shit but it’s the truth.” He lifts you gently and places you on his lap, wrapping his big arms around you and grabbing your hand and giving it a squeeze before bringing it up to his lips. “You know that yearning feeling you get when I’m not here? Where it feels like you can’t breathe?”

You nod.

“Well, I get it too. Probably even more than you do.” Steve kisses each one of your fingertips. “I need you more than I need to breathe. But even if I didn’t need you, even if I could breathe just fine without you… I’d still love you all the same.”

Your heart flutters, and you feel a sudden surge of emotion. This was really Steve Rogers, the biggest bully on campus? It was, it was, it was! And the three words are on the tip of your tongue, and the omega inside of you is screaming at you to just say it, say it, say it! “Steve, I…I…”

But your voice trails off, and you just stare at him helplessly and he stares back, looking both hopeful and knowingly bittersweet at the same time.

You let Steve tuck you in, covering you in your special blanket along with his heavy down comforter. He grabs Steve Junior from the foot of the bed, making the stuffie peck your face with kisses until you giggle. He tucks the teddy bear in against your chest before getting in beside you. You sigh, cuddling into his chest as he lifts you up so you’re resting on top of him, and he kisses the top of your head, and you feel okay.

***

PART III

The stark white lights of the private clinic make you more nervous than you already are. The waiting room is a lot more luxurious than what you’re used to at public hospitals. Plush sofas that are soft as a feather underneath you, yet do nothing to soothe your nerves. You wish Steve was next to you so you could hold his hand, but he’s too busy pacing around the room, a scowl on his face as he checks his watch every few seconds.

“Mr. Rogers?” A nurse appears through the door, her sudden chirpiness making you jump. “Doctor Alam will see you now.”

“Well, it’s about time.” Steve huffs, despite the fact that the two of you have only been waiting about five minutes. The nurse leads you to what you’re guessing is one of the ultrasound rooms, giving you a final smile before Steve pushes you in through the door.

“Steve! It’s lovely to see you again. Come in, come in.” A smart-looking woman in a white coat greets you both, her black hair streaked with white and tied back in an elegant knot. She shoots you a reassuring smile as you hesitate by the door, unsure what to do with yourself before Steve’s hand on your lower back ushers you in.

“Doctor Alam.” Steve nods stoically, pushing you forward. “This is my girlfriend.” He introduces you and you nod, feeling the usual tongue-tied, shy, awkward and stupid.

The doctor smiles serenely, reaching out to shake your hand. “It’s lovely to meet you.” She says kindly, “Why, I’ve known Steve for many years now – being his family’s personal physician and all. I never thought I’d see him settle down, but it’s wonderful to see that he has.”

Her smile falters for a nano-second when she spots the jagged mark on your neck. But she recovers quickly, squeezing your hand in a friendly manner.

Steve clears his throat, “Yes. She’s my girlfriend and she’s pregnant, so do your thing…” He gestures vaguely at the ultrasound machine with as little grace as only he ever could. Doctor Alam raises one perfectly plucked eyebrow, trying to hide the bemused look on her face at his choice of words.

“Well, why don’t you hop up onto the bed here, and we’ll get started?”

“O-Okay,” you whisper, frozen in place as you take in all the fancy ultrasound equipment next to the bed. Steve gives you a prod and you jump before climbing up and lying down, your heart beating like crazy.

“So, I’m just going to ask you a few routine questions, alright?”

You nod.

“It says here that you took an at-home pregnancy test?” The doctor asks, referring to the form the nurse had made you fill out earlier.

You nod, “Y-Yes. I – uh – I took three pregnancy tests and they all came out positive.”

“Approximately how long ago did you take these tests?”

Your wring your fingers nervously, avoiding Steve’s gaze. “I…I’m not sure. I think it’s been a few weeks now.” You quietly wonder if the doctor thinks you’ll be a bad mother because you can’t remember exactly when you’d taken the tests.

Doctor Alam smiles brightly, “Well, soon I’ll be able to tell you just how far along you are. That’s exciting, isn’t it?”

Exciting wasn’t exactly the word you’d use. Daunting maybe. Scary too. You cast a quick glance at Steve, who has taken a seat on the chair next to the bed. He grabs your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. But even he looks distracted and a touch bewildered, his eyes locked on your belly before moving to the ultrasound wand in the doctor’s hand. As if he can’t wrap his head around what’s going on. And neither can you.

Kids, you think to yourself. We’re just kids ourselves. We don’t know what we’re doing.

Doctor Alam squeezes a cool gel on your tummy before she gets to work. The ultrasound wand is cold and foreign against your skin, and so you resort to looking at Steve instead. Not that he’s doing much better. All those football games in stadiums filled with thousands of people, and he never broke a sweat. But now? You can feel a sense of anxiety in your bond, and you know that it’s coming from both of you.

“Aha, there it is.” Doctor Alam interrupts. You turn, not really registering what she’s said. She’s sat there smiling, pointing to the screen and prompting you to look too. “Congratulations, there’s your baby!”

At first, your eyes can’t seem to focus on what she’s talking about. All you see is a black and white screen that flickers and moves every now and then. Swirling shadows that don’t really make sense – is that really the inside of your tummy? You’re about to ask the doctor where exactly this baby is supposed to be, but then she points to something in the middle of the screen.

And then… Oh, and then, and then, and then!

You see it. It’s like a miniature bundle, a tiny little ball – but once your eyes settle on it, it’s like you can’t look away. It’s bobbing, floating, moving slightly! And you can see the heartbeat, actually see it because this little thing is pulsing in the same way a heart beats! Oh God, oh God, oh God! Your hand automatically goes up to your belly, hoping to feel what you’re seeing on the screen in front of you. Steve’s hand falls on top of yours, and without looking at him, you know he can’t take his eyes off what he sees either.

“Whoa.” You breathe.

“Whoa indeed. See, that’s your gestational sac, with the yolk sac inside. And there’s your baby, it’s about 16 millimetres long, which is about the size of a raspberry.” Doctor Alam chuckles as she points out each individual detail. “By the looks of things, you are approximately eight weeks pregnant.”

Eight weeks…

“Two months…” You whisper, before tearing your eyes away from the ultrasound to look at Steve. “But that’s when we…”

“…That’s when we first got together.” Steve completes, a look of awe on his face before he, too, tears his gaze off the screen to look at you. It takes the two of you a handful of seconds to register what that means, and then you see a slow, self-satisfied smile spread across Steve’s face. He leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest and looking extremely smug. “Well, I can’t say I’m surprised. Doctor, I told her I’d get her pregnant the first time we slept together. Didn’t I, omega? Didn’t I say that? And now–”

His insanely inappropriate words become background noise as you turn back to the ultrasound screen. Your baby, actually tangible and visible and with a beating heart, no less! This whole time, you’d struggled to wrap your head around the idea that there was life growing inside you. What with all the problems with Steve and the confrontations with Peter and your mother leaving you… you’d hardly had time to think about the fact that you were pregnant. All these weeks of feeling like there was a disconnect, like this was something you’d buried to the back of your mind whilst you dealt with everything else. But now…

“I can see its little heart beating.” You murmur in wonder. The little raspberry-sized thing had a heart! And it was pulsing and beating just like yours! This little thing, it was full of life! And it was growing inside you! You feel a sudden wave of protectiveness and excitement, making your own heart flutter in a way it never has before. Had this little thing been inside you this whole time, for the past two months? Depending on you as the main source of its life? Oh, it was absolutely beautiful, wonderful, magical–

“It looks like a lima bean.” Steve comments, but his whole face softens as he smiles at the screen.

Steve and Doctor Alam discuss various things. He wants to know if you’re healthy (you are) and if the baby is healthy (it is) and he also wants to know a bunch of other stuff which you should also probably pay attention to but all you can focus on is your little baby on the ultrasound monitor. You feel oddly light-hearted, but also nervous, scared, excited and in awe. Vaguely, you wonder if this is how your mother felt when she found out she was having you.

Probably not, but you guessed you’d never know. But you do know one thing: hell would freeze over before you’d leave this baby like how your mother had left you. And that’s a silent promise you make to yourself and the life growing inside of you, as you sit there on the clinic bed and stare at the ultrasound. Steve was right, you would never be like how your mother was.

The doctor gives you a picture of the scan in a little envelope when you’re on your way out. You grab it almost greedily, holding it close to your heart and repeating your silent promise to yourself. I don’t know you yet, but I will never leave you. I’m your mother and I promise you I’ll never leave you. Not when you’re four, or eighteen, or twenty-five, or even fifty. I’ll always be there for you, I promise.

Was this what all the biology textbooks meant when they spoke about omegas having a natural motherly instinct? Well, unlike Steve, you didn’t think all omegas were the same. You could only speak for yourself, and all you could say was that this burst of motherly love or whatever it was you were feeling right now, it was quite literally warming you from the inside out. You feel light and excited, holding Steve’s hand and almost skipping out the hospital.

“You look happy.” Steve comments after helping you into the car and clicking your seatbelt in.

“Aren’t you?” You pause, stroking your stomach thoughtfully, “I was so scared of this baby being a reality, but now… Well, I’m still scared now, but I also feel kind of calm and happy, as if this was meant to happen, you know? Like everything’s gonna be okay.”

Steve looks at you for several seconds before his hand joins yours against your belly. He strokes the skin softly, his blue eyes tender, “Well, I told you from the beginning that this was always meant to happen, didn’t I?”

His gaze drops down to your stomach, and he lifts your cardigan up, palm spreading flat across your bare skin. You look closely at his face, how his breathing shallows and his lips part as if in awe. It’s just your tummy, and you haven’t even begun to show yet, and yet he looks as if he’s staring at a shining diamond, and his eyes have stars in them.

“Hey, little guy. Or girl.” Steve says softly to your tummy, and your heart skips a beat at how gentle he sounds. “Hang in there, okay? You look like a lima bean right now but trust me, by the time you come out you’ll be just as cute as your mama.”

You kiss him, catching him off-guard as you surge up and grab his face, pressing your lips against his with an almost carnal desire. But he’s quick to recover, holding you gently in his arms as he kisses you back. And kissing Steve now still makes the butterflies flutter in your tummy just how they did the first time he kissed you two months ago. It still feels so special, so sweet, so right.

“Two months ago, you couldn’t even look me in the eye. Let alone kiss me.” Steve says, between kisses, smiling against your lips.

“Two months ago you were so different.” You answer breathlessly. Hell, even last week he’d been so different. Had the change in him happened slowly, gradually? Or all at once? You didn’t know, but it made you happy to see him looking at you with stars in his eyes and a genuine smile on his face.

“I’m gonna drop you home so you can rest, okay baby? I’ll join you later tonight.”

You pout. As pathetic as it sounded, you hated it when he wasn’t always with you. “Where are you going?”

He presses one final kiss to your lips before starting up the car, “I hired some movers to bring our stuff over from campus back up here. I gotta be there to oversee it all, make sure they don’t break something or miss anything.”

He was going back to campus? You feel a certain jolt in your heart, thinking about all your things sitting back there.

“Could I come too, Steve?”

“No. I want you to go home and rest.”

“Please?”

“No, omega. I don’t want you to be around a bunch of creepy movers. Not to mention how unsafe it is for a pregnant and fragile little omega like you to be around so much heavy-lifting. What if one of those idiot movers dropped something on you? I would fucking kill them...” His fist clenches against the steering wheel as if he’s already getting angry at the mere thought of that happening.

You bow your head, clutching the little envelope with your baby scan inside it as if it’s your lifeline, “Please let me come.” I hate being alone with my thoughts.

“Baby–”

Maybe it’s the way you sigh and look out the window, already shrivelling into yourself at the mere idea of being by yourself again. When just a few minutes ago, you’d been smiling from ear-to-ear, having seen your little baby inside your tummy. You hear Steve sigh.

“Fine. You can come. But stay near me, and don’t speak to any of the movers. In fact, don’t even go near them, or else I’ll call you an Uber and send you straight back home.”

***

“Well, well, well, Mr. Quarterback finally returns.” Sam grins, coming over to thump Steve on the back. The two alphas hug in that way that boys do, first clasping hands before pulling each in for a one-armed hug. You hang back and smile, things had been icy between Steve and Sam in the days after you got locked out in the rain, but clearly they had patched things up after they’d won the big game.

But what you don’t expect is Sam reaching out and pulling you in too, till you’re sandwiched between the two alphas in a tight, warm hug that you can’t help but return. You feel Steve stiffen, his eyes narrowing suspiciously as he looks from you to Sam. You half expect him to lose it, but after a few seconds he relaxes. But not before lifting Sam’s arm off your waist and placing it around your shoulders instead, and shooting the other alpha a warning look.

Sam draws back and hands Steve a beer, “Here I was thinking we’d all be celebrating the end of college, and the next thing I know I’m in an empty house because you guys fucked off to God knows where.”

Your heart skips at how he’s including you, saying “you guys” instead of just Steve. Sam had apologised to you after the whole being locked out debacle, but you hadn’t spoken to him since. It still felt nice to be included, however, and so you can’t help but smile.

“I just want to apologise again,” Sam says quietly when Steve goes into the kitchen to get you an apple juice, “How we acted with you, and my whole part in it, I really am sorry–”

“It’s alright.”

The three of you toast to a happy summer to come. Steve and Sam clink their beer bottles against your glass of apple juice. You don’t know if this summer will be a happy one, but you can’t have anything worse happen to you than what’s already happened, right? It was a cynical way of looking at things but you couldn’t help that. On the bright side, at least if someone locked you out of the house now, it would be sunny outside.

The two of you go upstairs to pack. It’s easy enough for you, since you don’t have that much to begin with. But Steve had bought you a ton of new things in the two months you’d been with him, which is why you’re grateful for the new suitcases Steve had provided for you. The old, tattered suitcase you’d lugged along with you on the first day of freshman year could finally retire, along with the memories of what now felt like a past life…

Steve’s idea of packing is throwing everything into the suitcases and calling it a day. The omega inside you is horrified by this, wanting to fold and layer each piece of clothing, each book, each sheet. Savouring the memories behind each item you pack, like your polaroid camera, which you’d saved up for months to buy right before freshman year. It was meant to capture all the fun you thought you’d have…

I can use it when you’re born, you say to your tummy, and I’ll stick polaroids of you into a scrapbook, along with the scan from today. I’ll take some pictures of your dad too. And then when you’re grown up, you can look through it.

Speaking of books, you quietly grab the black sketchbook from underneath the bed when Steve isn’t looking, safely stashing it in your bag.

“Where the hell are those movers?” Steve glances at his watch, “I want to us to get back home before sunset.”

Home. Steve’s house. You supposed it was your home now, but you knew it would take time for you to feel like it was. You peak outside Steve’s bedroom window, taking in the campus courtyard for what felt like the last time. Would you come back here for your second year? How would that even work with you pregnant? How could you ever complete your degree with a baby to take care of too? That is, if Steve would even allow it.

“A bunch of my stuff is still at my old dorm room.” You say suddenly.

Steve wrinkles his nose, “Really? Is it anything important?”

He had slowly moved your things into his room when you’d started living with him, but he hadn’t brought along everything. You didn’t have much, but a lot of your old clothes were still there. Your scuffed sneakers (he’d bought you new ones) and the bag you’d sewed yourself out of your old jeans (he’d bought you a designer one to use instead). You supposed you didn’t have much use for your old things, but they were still yours, and you wanted them.

“Yes.” You say firmly, “Please could I go over there and check over my things?” What would even happen to them if you didn’t? Would they just go in the trash? Forgotten forever just like you’d been forgotten by your mother? No, you couldn’t let that happen.

But Steve shakes his head, “We can’t go right now, I need to be here when the movers get here.”

You bite your lip, “I could just go myself.” Your old dorm room was only on the other side of campus, where the cheaper accommodation was.

“No. You know you can’t go by yourself.”

“But Steve–”

“I said no.”

You sit down on the edge of the bed. It’s been stripped down to just the mattress, but you remember a time when it was covered in your flowery sheets that you’d brought over from your old dorm. A memory. Everything was slipping by so quickly… Your childhood home, your dorm, this bedroom, and now Steve’s mansion. Just for a second, you wish you could freeze time and breathe, and gain a little bit of control over what’s happening around you.

Steve crouches in front of you, taking your hands in his, “Look, I can’t let you go by yourself. The last time I left you by yourself…” His voice trails off and his eyes narrow, and you know he’s thinking of the day of the football game.

“If you think Peter’s gonna come back and take me again, he won’t.” You say, “I think he’s well and truly done with me now, and I don’t think I’ll ever hear from him again.” You can still picture the hurt in his eyes when he’d seen the mark on your neck, and when he’d seen you stay with Steve. From the deepest part of your heart, you mourn the loss of your friendship with him… Maybe one day you could talk to him and repair it?

Steve opens his mouth to say something, and you wait for him to curse Peter out, or say something awful about him. But he pauses when he sees the sad look on your face, and instead he sighs. You know he’s on a path to changing his ways, and you know it’s not easy for him. But you can see he’s trying, with the way his features soften and he kisses your hand instead.

“You really want to go back there right now?”

“Yes, please.”

Steve gives Sam express instructions on how to deal with the movers, telling him that the two of you would be back with half an hour. You figure that’ll be more than enough time to survey over your remaining things and pick what you want to take with you. A part of you feels emotional, as if not just a chapter, but an entire novel of your life is ending and you don’t know if the next book has even been confirmed. It’s weird, this mix of excitement you feel for the future which included the baby in your tummy, and this sense of bittersweet loss you also felt as if your college life was coming to a premature end.

Your dorm room looks exactly the same as how you’d left it. You haven’t been back since the day Sharon confronted you, and Steve had taken you to his house. Smell was the biggest carrier of nostalgia, and here you could smell so many memories… A girl, once eager and hopeful, happy to be at a prestigious university and away from the demons she’d left behind at home. Oh, you’d been so excited to live on your own!

“I don’t like being in here.” Steve says, clearing his throat uncomfortably and reaching out to squeeze your hand. “I was an asshole to you in this room.”

You turn back to him, and the two of you share a meaningful look where a lot is said despite nothing being said out loud at all. You know he’s sorry, you can see the remorse on his face and you can feel it in the bond you share. You know he wishes he could take it all back, and you wish to God that he’d been then what he was becoming now.

You grab your DIY bag made out of your old, patchy jeans, and a few of your hoodies which you’d stopped wearing and left behind because Steve had bought you new clothes. You rifle through all your old keychains and knick-knacks, remembering how Steve had done the same thing when he’d first come here. Moving on to your desk, you see the old notes still strewn about on the wooden surface, including the essay plan you’d so meticulously constructed for Steve when he’d come over for “tutoring.”

“You’re reliving old memories, aren’t you?” Steve asks tonelessly.

You nod. There are bad ones, but you try to focus on the good: your first time kissing him, how he’d gifted you Steve Junior…

His arms wrap around your waist from behind, and he hugs you hard. Holding you, rocking with you while you both seem lost in thought. His hand slips down, fingers splaying out over your stomach.

“We’ll make new memories. The three of us.”

That makes you smile. “Really, Steve?”

“Yes. I’ll be better. I swear I will.”

You pack your bag with the few belongings you want to take with you. Steve tries to help, but soon gets a call from the movers.

“What do you mean you can’t fit the bed frame into the van? Have you tried using your brain and maybe dismantling it?”

The response is cut up and almost inaudible, the connection extremely weak. He frowns, “I can’t hear you.”

More muffled sounds.

Steve groans, “Baby, I’m gonna take this outside, okay? Stay in here.”

You nod, distracted by all your old things surrounding you. You’ve always been a sentimental person, romanticising mundane things that other people wouldn’t glance at twice. Like your bottle of cheap suppressants that Steve had rattled around and looked at with such disdain. Your old keychains, your empty lip-glosses, you don’t know how long you sit there and reminisce about your old life that seems like it was ions ago instead of just a few months.

You don’t even hear the door when it opens.

“You know, this is how I always imagined it.”

His voice sends shivers down your spine, a coldness spreading through your veins that’s as icy as his eyes. You swallow, turning around slowly and holding on to the hope that maybe it’s not him. Oh God, please let it not be him. But it is.

Bucky stands at the doorway, a glint in his eye as he looks you up and down. You feel a sense of impending doom, your heart sinking down to the depths. Oh, but shouldn’t you have expected this? He was, after all, one of the problems you’d pushed aside, tried to run away from. Out of sight, out of mind – and yet here he was now. You swallow harshly, and you will yourself to be brave despite the fact that your hands are shaking. You don’t want him here; you don’t want him near you.

“Wh-What are you doing here?” You ask, hating how your voice comes out shaky.

“Sweetheart, it’s been weeks since we last spoke. And you can’t even say hello?” Bucky smiles, but there’s something wooden about it, something off. Something you can’t really put your finger on or even care to. “I mean, Sam got a hug from you. I saw it. I’m sure I should get the same treatment, right? Or maybe something more…” Calmly, he shuts the door behind him, and then you hear the click of the lock. Your heart jumps to your throat, panic beginning to set in. It’s okay, Steve’s only just outside, you think to yourself.

You clear your throat, narrowing your eyes in a bid to look more confident than you’re actually feeling, “The last time I saw you, you locked me out of the house in the pouring rain.”

He steps towards you and you instinctively take a step back. He notices and smirks, as if he finds your actions amusing. “Oh, right. I feel bad about that, but you were getting too big for your boots, sweetheart.”

“Just because I refused to kiss you?” You feel anger at his words, and it overrides your fear for just a second. You remember him twisting your arm when you didn’t kiss him, remember how he’d slammed the door in your face, how he’d sat there scrolling nonchalantly on his phone while you pounded at the door, drenched in the rain and begging him to let you in. Oh, how you wish you weren’t a weak omega just for a few moments, just so you could stand toe-to-toe with someone like him!

Instead, you cower as he crosses the room, and he’s only inches away from you when your back hits your desk and you can’t back away any more. And that’s when he smirks, reaching out to move your hair out of your face. You blanche, feeling your skin crawl at his touch.

“I saw you first.” He breathes.

“Th-That doesn’t matter.”

“It does to me.” His eyes flutter shut for a second and he inhales deeply, “You smell so fucking sweet. The day I first saw you, all I could think about was how beautiful you were, and how badly I wanted to smell your scent but you were on those damn suppressants.” He opens his eyes and you see them darken, “Steve could smell you immediately, and I hated that. I hated that he was the only one who could.”

“Bucky, he’s right outside. He’ll be back any second.”

“He gets everything he ever wants,” Bucky’s tone hardens, and he surges forward, pressing up against you. You struggle against him, trying to somehow squeeze out from between him and the desk but he grips your arm, digging his fingers into your skin painfully to keep you in place. “Ever since we were kids… He got everything. A better car, a higher allowance. He got better girls and better grades and they made him the captain of the football team.”

Your jaw would have dropped open had it not been frozen in place with fear. Seriously? Those were his problems? That Steve had a better car? If you weren’t so scared out of your damn mind, you would’ve laughed. Somehow, you doubt Bucky ever had an alcoholic, absentee mother with a string of abusive boyfriends. You doubt his parents had ever left him. You know he’d never grown up in poverty, you know he’d never been bullied relentlessly. Oh, you wish you had his problems…

“But then you walked in and I called dibs and for once, for fucking once… I had something he wanted.” Bucky’s finger trails down your arm before he grabs your waist, pushing himself into you. You gasp, fists going up to his chest to push him off you but to no avail. Oh God, where was Steve?!

A bitter laugh escapes from Bucky’s throat, “But of course, he lied and manipulated his way into claiming you too. Down to his core, that’s who Steve is. That’s what he does.” His icy blue eyes look distant, as if he’s in another dimension inside his head – that’s the only way you can describe it. But then he snaps back to peer at your face, excitement covering his features and chilling you down to the core as you cringe away from him, subconsciously patting at the envelope containing your baby scan inside your pocket, as if to calm yourself down.

“But this isn’t about Steve, sweetheart. This is about you. Little Miss Omega who’s gotten too big for her boots. You got with an alpha and all of a sudden you think you’re the queen of the world, don’t you?” He yanks at your hair, and you cry out in pain as he drags you to your old bed.

Cold, incapacitating fear overtakes you when he pushes you down on the mattress. You land on your back with a thump, immediately trying to roll away but he grabs your leg and pulls you back before climbing on top of you. Oh no, oh no, please. God, please no…

“Bucky, don’t do this!”

“You think you’re too good for me, huh?” Bucky sneers, his face inches from yours. His hands move to grab your cardigan, ripping it apart. He doesn’t even flinch as the buttons fly everywhere, smirking maniacally down at you as you scramble to hold your tattered cardigan together. “You think you’re too good to kiss me? Well, sweetheart, I’ve dreamed of this moment. And I assure you, we’ll be doing a lot more than just kissing tonight…”

“Bucky, don’t! I’m pregnant, okay? I’m pregnant!” You scream out desperately, hoping and praying that he’d have a little bit of sympathy inside him to just stop. If not for your sake, then maybe for the sake of your unborn child. He wouldn’t hurt a pregnant woman, would he?

Bucky does stop, for just a moment. His hand freezes in the middle of trying to peel the remains of your cardigan off you and you see something register in the depths of his pale, icy eyes. But it only lasts a nanosecond, before they cloud over and he smiles, pressing his forehead against yours. “That’s okay, sweetheart. We’ll just pretend it’s mine.”

Oh, he was crazy! Utterly and completely crazy! And you don’t know what to do! Because when have you ever gone into a confrontation and come out on top? Hell, you couldn’t even hold your own against another omega like Sharon… let alone an alpha twice your size like Bucky. Steve, where are you? Please save me, please, please, please!

“Bucky stop, okay? I know you’re mad at Steve and… and you’re upset you didn’t get what you wanted b-but this isn’t the way to–”

He kisses you. And oh, it’s horrible! It feels like you’re being squeezed into a tight black hole where you can’t breathe and you can’t move and it’s just so wrong. Everything about it is wrong, like two misfit pieces from opposite ends of a puzzle. He’s rough yet almost robotic with how he kisses you, his kiss lacking any of the passion and fire you feel with Steve. It’s even worse than when Peter kissed you… oh, because Bucky’s kiss feels like it’s charged with hatred, and anger, and malice, and–

“GET THE FUCK OFF OF ME!”

You push with all your might, the shrillness of your words surprising you both. It catches him off guard, and you do something you’ve never done before in your life. You spit right in his face, sneering up at him defiantly. You’re sick of every single one of these fucking men kissing you when you didn’t want them to. Enough was enough.

“Little Miss Omega likes to play rough, huh?” Bucky quickly recovers, wiping your spit off his face and keeping you pinned down underneath him, “That’s alright. Fight against me all you want, but you and I both know you’re just a weak little omega. You never stood a chance, sweetheart. Not against any of us.”

Long ago, when you’d been standing on the porch in a thunderstorm, you’d made a promise to yourself to never beg him again. Something had snapped inside you then, flushing out all hope from inside you. Something snaps inside you now, too. But it does the complete opposite.

“You’re right, I’m weak compared to you. But at least I’m not pathetic.”

Bucky scoffs, opening his mouth but you beat him to it.

“I used to be scared of all of you alphas. You all looked so strong, powerful and untouchable to me. But what I’ve realised is that each one of you is more insecure than the next. Especially you, Bucky. And I feel sorry for you, because I can take all the bullying and the harassment and everything else that’s happened to me, but you can’t take even the slightest bit of rejection. You’re pathetic.”

He pauses, regarding you with narrowed eyes. And again, you see a semblance of something human glimmer across his face before his features twist into a snarl. “Save the condescending philosophy lesson for later, sweetheart. I’m not interested.”

He tries to kiss you again, but you turn your head because hell would freeze over before you let someone kiss you unwillingly again. His hands are all over your body, trying to get your clothes off you except you don’t give him a chance. You thrash wildly underneath him, something feral taking over from inside you. This wild survival instinct, this need to keep yourself and the baby safe. And the whole time during this physical tousle, you’re thinking: please don’t let him hurt my baby, please let my baby come out of this okay, even if I don’t. I don’t want to lose it… I know I didn’t pay attention to it at first, but I don’t want to lose it. Please, please, please, I don’t want to lose my baby.

“Let me fucking have this!” Bucky roars, pinning your hands over your head. You can feel the tears well in your eyes but you don’t want to spill any over him, over this. He roughly kisses up your jaw, “I went home these past couple of weeks to clear my head, and all I could fucking think about was you. I wanted you first, so just let me have this, okay? Fucking kiss me back! Spread your legs for me like you did for the first alpha who ever glanced your way.”

“STEVE!” You scream, growing more desperate by the second, “STEVE, PLEASE HELP!”

Bucky laughs wickedly, “He’s not coming to save you, sweetheart. I made sure of it.”

His words unlock something even more feral in you, but it’s when he splays his hand over your tummy that you completely lose it. In a way you never have before. How dare he? How fucking dare he?

“DON’T FUCKING TOUCH ME!”

You ram your knee up, catching him straight on his crotch. Bucky grunts, falling on top of you. His hands let go of yours as he goes to clutch between his legs. You try to push him off you but he’s too big, too heavy.

“You stupid fucking slut,” Bucky swears, trying to grab at you with one hand but you know this is the only opening you’ll ever get. His face is grimaced in pain, and you’ve never been a violent person but you figure now is the best time to change that. You scratch at his face, shoving and pushing at him to get him off you. He grabs your wrist again, but you assume you got him hard on his crotch because it’s thrown him off his game. And you knee him again, this time catching him in his abdomen. The kick isn’t too hard, and Bucky barely flinches but it does distract him enough to allow you to slip out from underneath him.

You run to the door, managing to unlock it before Bucky grabs you by the waist and pulls you back. And now you really feel like crying, because you were so close… So fucking close…

Was this how it was going to end? Had God really written this in your fate? On top of everything else shitty that had happened to you since the day you were fucking born? No, it couldn’t be. You wouldn’t let it. You were sick of bad things happening to you while you stood there and cried and let them. If he was going to do this, you were going to fight till the end. You owed that to yourself, and your baby too.

“I hate you, you pathetic piece of shit!” You spit out, clawing and writhing as he half drags and half carries you back to the bed. Never in your life have you called anyone such a name but it just comes out of you with such vitriol, born out of both the fear and anger you feel right now. “I was only ever nice to you, despite how awful you all treated me! But you just can’t take rejection, and that is not my fault! You’re a pathetic, privileged jerk!”

“You could’ve loved me if it weren’t for Steve.” Bucky sneers, pulling your hair back and scowling at Steve’s mark on your neck. He bares his teeth, poised to bite. No, no, no, no! You punch, kick, writhe, claw, and–

“Are you done packing? Some asshole slashed my tires and–”

It’s like the whole world freezes when the door opens and Steve steps into the room. You freeze mid-fight, and Bucky does too. Steve does too. Pin drop silence. Not a single sound. Just the three of you staring at each other. And then…

“See what your slut of an omega is capable of, Steve?” Bucky says, gesturing at you while your jaw drops open in shock at what he’s saying. The brunette alpha’s eyes are as wild as his hair, and he’s breathing hard with an almost maniacal look on his face, “You see? Do you see this, Steve? She couldn’t wait to get on my dick the moment your back was turned. Guess you were right about her being the campus slut after all.”

For a moment, you’re rendered speechless. You watch Steve closely as he takes in what’s in front of him. You and Bucky on your bed, him practically on top of you, your hair dishevelled, your cardigan torn in half with the buttons broken. Oh no, Steve couldn’t possibly believe…?

“No.” You say firmly, your voice unwavering because if there was ever a time for you to be as clear as possible, it was now. “He’s lying. He came on to me, Steve. Like he’s been doing for months now.”

Bucky scoffs, “Oh yeah? Is that why you never told him that until now?”

Steve is motionless, stoic and his expression unreadable as he looks from you to his best friend and back to you again.

“Steve, he attacked me.” You look squarely into your alpha’s eyes, trying to sound confident but you can’t keep the desperate plea from your tone. “He’s been acting weird with me behind your back for months, and I know I didn’t tell you and I tried to brush it off but–”

“She’s a fucking liar,” Bucky cuts you off, “A fucking slut who wants two alphas at the same time. Me and her have been flirting for months behind your back, and she was enjoying every second of it, that’s why she never told you. She’s a goddamned slut, Steve, and she fooled us both with her innocent act.”

Each lie is like a punch to your gut, and you turn to stare at him in complete dismay. You could not fathom how someone could lie so cleanly, so unashamedly. And Steve? Why wasn’t he saying anything?

“That’s not true…” You say softly, not having it in you to say anything else.

“It is true, and you know it’s true, Steve,” Bucky claims, and he looks calmer now, as if he knows Steve will believe him and it breaks your fucking heart, the broken pieces sinking down to the depths of your tummy. “I wouldn’t lie to you, Steve, you know that–”

“Omega, step out of the room.” Steve says quietly. It’s an alpha command, because you feel your legs moving before you know what’s happening. You cross the bedroom, trying to catch Steve’s gaze but he won’t look at you. His eyes are locked on Bucky.

What follows is total carnage. The moment you cross the threshold, stepping out of the room and out of harm’s way, Steve attacks. Letting out an almighty snarl, he shoots across the room, pouncing on Bucky like a rabid animal. Bucky, clearly not expecting the attack, crashes to the ground with Steve on top of him. You wince when the brunet alpha’s head hits the floor, but Steve looks possessed, his face red and eyes narrowed to slits. And he throws punch after punch against Bucky’s face, and you can hear the repeated crack of his fist against his jaw.

You press your hand over your stomach as if to shield it, knowing you can’t step back into the bedroom to stop them even if you wanted to.

Bucky recovers quickly, and it’s different from Peter because Bucky matches Steve’s size and strength. He punches Steve back, his face screwed up in disgust as if he can’t fathom why Steve is attacking him.

“You’d believe her over me?!” Bucky roars, “You pussy-whipped piece of shit, you’d believe that slut over your best fucking friend?!”

“DON’T YOU FUCKING TALK ABOUT HER!” Steve’s voice rings across the whole room, and probably the whole building.

Bucky coughs, his lip swollen and his eye already blackening, but he’s still fighting back. “She’s a slut, and you’re a fucking joke for defending her–”

CRACK.

You’re sure Steve has broken Bucky’s jaw with how hard he punches him and how sickening the crack sounds. And he doesn’t stop there, grabbing Bucky by the throat while the brunet tries to recover underneath him.

“Don’t – you – ever – fucking – touch – her – again – you – piece – of – shit!” Each word is enunciated with Steve slamming Bucky’s head on the hard wood floor. And you look on in absolute horror, feeling torn because you hate Bucky with everything you have, because he’d just assaulted you and lied and he’d been awful to you and didn’t he deserve this? And yet you can’t bear to see such a display of violence…

“You always got everything!” Bucky sputters, and this admission catches Steve off-guard enough for Bucky to shove him off and tackle him to the ground, and now it’s Bucky’s turn to throw the punches, battering Steve’s face with renewed vigour. “You can’t have her too, you can’t–”

And you almost step back into the room, but you know you can’t put yourself and your baby in danger like that. You desperately look around, seeing if you can call for help. But who would come between these two alphas? And deep down, you knew they needed to hash it out.

They fight and fight, throwing punches and slamming and tackling each other all over the room. Swearing and cussing, spitting out words of venom. You run down the hall, banging on the other doors, hoping someone would help and break them apart. But no one answers, and you know no one would come within ten feet of two furious alphas.

You run back to your dorm room, making sure to stay outside just like Steve told you to. But your heart lurches at the bruises on Steve’s face, the beginnings of a black eye forming as Bucky continues to hit him.

“Stop!” You scream at Bucky, “Please, leave him alone!”

It’s like your voice snaps something inside Steve, and with the strength of his whole body, he pushes Bucky off of him. Smooth as a panther, he gets to his feet, landing several hard kicks on his friend’s ribs and abdomen. His face is battered and angry, feral yet still unreadable. It’s his best friend he’s fighting, and you can see that in how his features twist in disbelief mixed with animalistic fury.

And it’s with that same blind fury that he picks up your entire desk like it’s nothing. And you look on in horror, watch all your books and notes fall to the ground. Bucky looks too, his mouth bloody and parted in dismay as Steve lifts the heavy wooden desk over his head, poised on top of Bucky’s twitching body.

“Steve, don’t! You’ll kill him!” Or at least cause irreversible damage.

“He deserves it. He hurt you.” Steve’s voice comes out menacing as he looks straight at Bucky and only at Bucky, “All this fucking time, and right under my fucking nose...”

He kicks Bucky again, hard on the stomach and Bucky doubles over in pain. And Steve still stands over him, still gripping the huge desk as if it’s nothing. And you can’t imagine the damage he’d do if he let it fall on Bucky’s head, let alone slam it down with force.

But something seems to snap in Steve when he sees Bucky bent over in pain before he lies flat as if he’s resigned to his fate. And there’s blood gushing out of Bucky’s nose and his mouth, and his face is almost beaten to a pulp, and his eyes look glazed over, barely alert.

With a sigh, Steve sets the desk back down to the side, and then collapses next to Bucky. Sat down on the floor next to his friend who twitches in pain, and Steve looks at him in both disbelief and pity.

“You were my best friend.” Steve whispers, and it comes out broken and resigned. They stare at each other for a few seconds, and then neither of them says anything more, and Bucky turns away on his side, and Steve gets up and leaves him.

He makes his way to you, and you rush over to him. For a handful of moments, no one speaks. He hugs you hard, harder than usual but that’s not very shocking given the circumstances. He takes his jacket off and helps you put it on, and you welcome the warmth it brings you, his rich scent calming you down.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

“Yes. Are you?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry I didn’t protect you from him before.”

“That’s alright, you didn’t know.”

Steve refuses to look at Bucky even once more, and you know it’s because he’s afraid his anger will make him do something he’d later regret. So it’s you who uses Steve’s phone to call Sam to come help the brunet alpha, who is teetering on unconscious but fortunately still alive.

“No one’s gonna hurt you again.” Steve vows, holding on to tighter than ever, and you lean into him, burying your face in the crook of his neck. Warm, safe, relieved, you feel all of it as your adrenaline finally begins to come down.

“I know they won’t. I won’t let them, and you won’t either. I’m glad it’s all over now.”

***

The sun is shining as you and Steve set out across the grounds of his family home. The gardens stretch out across acres, so beautifully kept and flourishing, yielding all types of different flowers that are in full bloom. As you walk across what looks to be an entire field of yellow roses, you notice that Steve plucks one out every few steps, till he’s got a bunch of them grasped in his fist, and with gentle hands he expertly picks the thorns off.

You stop at a patch of green grass under a pretty looking tree, and that’s where you set your picnic basket down. Steve Junior smiles up at you from inside the wicker, and he seems to begrudgingly extend that smile to Steve too, which makes you happy. Steve helps you sit down as the sun splashes down on all three of you, and a gentle breeze makes your dress flow.

It’s been weeks since the whole ordeal with your mother leaving and then with Bucky. The first few days immediately after it were tough, as both you and Steve came to terms with different things. Steve went through periods of anger so strong, he wanted to get in the car and pay Bucky another visit. He couldn’t believe what Bucky had been doing to you behind his back, and once you told him the details, he was nothing short of livid. You’d often find him just sitting there, deep in thought about it all, formulating plans of revenge and plotting to take Bucky down. You told him that Bucky’s own insecurities and bitterness were his downfall, and to not worry about him anymore. You certainly wouldn’t.

As for you, you found that your mother leaving you would always linger in the back of your mind – at least for the foreseeable future. That made you sad, but you also found that it wasn’t too hard to continue life with this information. At first, you didn’t know what you wanted to do. Track her down and yell at her for being so heartless? Ignore her existence and carry on, just like how she was doing with you?

Well, you decided to take it one day at a time. And you’d already spent one whole year of university without your mother, and in a way, it was practice to what was now becoming your new normal. Despite her imperfections and shortcomings, it still sucked being left behind by her. But all you could do now was slowly piece yourself back together and hope that you’d never have to go through anything traumatic like that ever again.

To his credit, Steve did his best to distract you in the weeks following that fateful visit to your childhood home, as well as the ordeal with Bucky. Or maybe he was trying to distract himself from his own worries and concerns… about you and about his mother, and about his former best friend. True to his impulsive style, he’d wanted to take you on vacation right away for a change of scenery, as an escape. You told him that his family’s mansion was vacation enough for you, what with the gazillion pools and the luxurious interiors and hundreds of other features which you had yet to explore.

It's in these few weeks that you got to know Steve ways you never had in the two months you’d known him prior to this. The two of you went swimming together in one of his pools (Steve wouldn’t let go of you at first, afraid that you’d drown or somehow put the baby at risk. But he changed gears pretty quickly once you beat him in a freestyle race, although he scoffed and claimed he was going easy on you).

You cooked together too (well, it was originally just you cooking, as you always did for him, but Mrs. Rogers pushed him into the kitchen to help you, and once Steve saw how sharp the knives were and how hot the oven was, he immediately put himself in charge. “Try the mashed potatoes, Mom. I made those,” he had boasted over dinner that night, and his mother had smiled at him indulgently, and shot you a wink).

You also gave him his sketchbook which you’d retrieved from under the bed. He was shocked that you knew about it and that you’d brought it back, and you told him how touched you were seeing how much he’d drawn you and how talented he was. He played it off at first, tossing the sketchbook aside and telling you he didn’t draw much anymore. But then one day you caught him sketching what you guessed was his mother. In his sketch, she was on her feet, pretty and full of life. Dancing amongst a flower garden, a little blonde boy holding her hand. It moved you so much, you couldn’t help but wrap your arms around him tightly, as if to tell him that it would all be okay. In those moments, you felt more bonded to him than the mark on your neck ever made you feel.

Speaking of Mrs. Rogers, her health remained the same. But she did seem to light up when Mr. Rogers finally came home. You were so shy, especially when you noted the formal way in which he greeted his son. Steve’s dad looked a lot like Steve, just older and more mellow, a touch of sadness in his eyes. But he greeted you warmly, and told you that he was happy his son had found you.

And then he turned to his wife, and it was amazing how his face morphed completely, as if he had hearts in his eyes. They’d left you and Steve to your own devices, and later, when you walked by their room, you saw them dancing together. Well, she was fragile and weak, and stood on his shoes while he moved around the room. But it was very cute, and you weren’t used to seeing parents love each other like this, and so you stood transfixed for longer than you cared to admit. And then Steve dragged you away to go do some activity around the house.

Nevertheless, slowly, in these past few weeks, you’d begun to feel happy again. It happened very gradually, and yet so naturally at the same time. You allowed yourself to enjoy this new side of Steve, this loving and laidback side of him that you just couldn’t get enough of. You found yourself waking up and looking forward to spending the day with him, finding out what activities he had planned for the day, giggling at the thought of doing something fun or romantic with him.

Today’s activity was a picnic in the Rogers’ family estate’s never-ending gardens. Steve had picked out a pretty yellow dress for you (it was too hot for a hoodie) and he’d helped dress you, too. He was treating you like you were made of glass, babying you more than ever before. You wondered whether it was because you were pregnant, or because of everything you’d been through. Either way, you liked how he sat you in his lap and cooed at you as he slipped the lacy socks on your feet, how he kissed your neck and told you how beautiful you were. It made you feel special, how only he could.

“For you.” Steve holds out his makeshift bouquet of yellow roses, all but thrusting them into your hands with comical haste, as if he’s afraid something will come up and snatch them away. But you accept them happily, admiring how pretty they look.

“They’re beautiful,” you bring them up to your nose and give them a delicate sniff, “Yellow is the colour of hope.”

“It’s also your favourite colour.”

You nod, pleased that he knows this. “It is!”

It’s when you’re both sat down under the tree, that he takes both your hands in his, and looks at you with meaningful eyes.

“I don’t think you know how much you mean to me.”

“Steve–”

“I love every single thing about you. I love how brave you are, and how resilient no matter what life throws at you.” He tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear, “I love your eyes, your nose, your mouth,” he kisses each of the features that he’s listed down, till you’re giggling and looking up at him in awe. “I love how smart you are, the way you knew all the answers during classes but you were too shy to raise your hand. I love how you mouthed the answers to yourself anyways, and I love how you were always right.”

You feel a surge of emotion, but he’s not done.

“I love how you rehearse your order under your breath whenever we go out to eat, and I love how relieved you look when I order for you instead. I love your big hoodies even though I told you before that you shouldn’t wear them. You look cute in them, actually. I always secretly thought that.”

He takes a velvet case out of his pocket, and your breath catches in your throat. Whatever you were going to say dies away, and you look on as he opens the box. The diamond glints in the sunlight, so blindingly bright and pretty, attached to a delicate gold band.

“I know I’ve promised you many things in the past, and I’ve hurt you and broken those promises, too. But I’m telling you now that I will love and protect you and our baby with my whole life. And I want you to be my wife, so I can take care of you. So, baby, will you marry–”

“Yes!” You cut him off, unable to wait any longer because you feel this bursting happiness in your heart. You kiss him hard, catching him off-guard but he recovers quickly, holding you gently in his lap while your mouth moves against his. His hand splays over your tummy, and you really do feel loved. Perhaps for the first time in your whole life… you really do feel loved.

He slips the ring on your finger and you admire how perfectly it fits. And then the two of you kiss some more, bathing in the sunlight of the hot summer’s day, and in a way, you feel like you were always meant to end up here. That this was that hot summer’s day you’d always been yearning for every time you’d looked at him and felt that hunger, that longing…

You feel it now too, almost tenfold. And you draw back, taking in a deep breath. It happens suddenly and yet it’s the surest you’ve ever felt about anything ever. You push aside the neckline of shirt, till enough of his neck is bare to you. And then you bite down hard. Not too hard at first, because you’re afraid of hurting him. But then that feral feeling takes over you, and you hold his biceps tightly to steady yourself, and you bite down till you feel his skin breaking.

You lick and suck against his pale, broken skin as he holds you close, holding your head in place as if there’s nowhere else he’d rather want you to be. And when you pull away and see the little jagged mark you’ve left on him, a thrill ripples through you like no other.

Now he was yours too.

“Did that hurt?” You ask him.

He scoffs, ever the macho alpha. But there’s love in his eyes when he speaks. “A little. But it’s a good kind of hurt.”

You pepper kisses on your mark, trying to soothe any pain you may have caused him. And then he cups your face with his hands and catches your lips with his own, giving you the most passionate kiss you’ve ever felt from him.

“Steve?” You say breathlessly between kisses.

“Yeah, baby?”

“I love you too.”

The end.

***

EPILOGUE – ONE YEAR LATER

You don’t know if it’s the nightmare that jolts you awake, or if it’s the sound of Rosie crying. But you wake up to a dark, empty room. The bed is empty, save for you. You scramble up to see that Rosie’s crib is empty too (you keep it right next to your bed because you need to know she’s there all the time). But she’s not here right now, and neither is Steve, and that dark voice inside your head, the one you’ve worked so hard to keep out, begins to cackle… They’ve both left you…

You jump to your feet, heart hammering like crazy. But you find Steve in Rosie’s nursery, with your little baby girl in his arms. Or his one arm, and she looks so tiny and comfy, nestled on her dad as he gently rocks her, holding her bottle in his opposite hand. You immediately sag in relief.

Steve looks up at you, “She was crying so I came to check on her. I thought I’d let you sleep.”

You let out a ragged breath, “I thought you’d left me.”

Often, you wonder if he’s sick of your whole “I thought you’d left me” thing. There have been many occasions in the past year, where you’ve gone to that dark place in your mind, where you’ve woken up in the dark and somehow convinced yourself that he’s gone and he’s taken your Rosie with him. You still have nightmares about this happening. Not every night, but enough times that you’ve woken up crying.

Your therapist says that trauma and insecurities don’t heal overnight. That it’ll take time for you to completely believe that no one is ever going to leave you again like how your parents did. And that it’s important for you to have a strong support system that makes you feel reassured and safe. And Steve never hesitates to tell you that he’s never leaving you, that he’s right here, that everything’s okay. You’re amazed at how much patience he has when it comes to this, but he does, and you’re grateful for it.

Now, he lets you hold Rosie before gathering you in his arms and kissing the top of your head. “I’m right here, baby. It’s all okay, I’m never leaving you.”

You calm down, letting him lead you to the armchair in the corner of the nursery. He sits down, pulling you on top of him and switching on the lamp. Rosie coos in your arms, awake and smiling despite it being the middle of the night. She’s such a happy baby, and you love that about her because she makes you happy too. So overwhelmingly happy, that you want to smother her face in kisses and cuddle her all day and all night.

She nestles closer against your bosom, and you and Steve both watch her in awe. She’s so special, so perfect. Only five months old and yet you can’t imagine your life without her. When she was born, she’d been so, so tiny and she’d cried so much, but you’d held her against your chest and she’d calmed down, and it made you feel so needed, so wanted.

Steve had been scared to hold her at first, convinced that he’d somehow hurt her. You also suspected that he was afraid she’d cry if he held her, reject him somehow. But those little fears had gone away quickly, probably because she was so cute and he couldn’t resist cuddling her, even when she was a newborn and practically just the size of his hand. And you couldn’t get enough of watching him with her, because a year ago he’d been a cruel fratboy hell-bent on his mean ways. And now?

Now he was a father. And your husband.

The wedding had been small, just you (pregnant and beginning to show) and Steve and his parents. “I don’t want anyone else there, Steve. Just us. Please,” you had begged. Maybe it was because his friends weren’t your friends, or maybe it was because you were insecure that you’d have no one there for you. No one to walk you down the aisle, no one to go pick your wedding dress with, just no one at all.

Steve had agreed – it was your special day after all. Mrs. Rogers – hell-bent on making it to her son’s wedding despite the fact that she had to do so in a wheelchair – helped you pick your dress by having a large selection delivered to the house. You’d chosen a flowy dress that reached till your knees, and you’d gotten married on a private beach owned by the Rogers family. And despite the fact that it was Steve’s father who walked you down the aisle instead of your own, you felt happy.

You’d even received a card from Peter, congratulating you on your marriage. The message was brief, but it touched you nonetheless. You’d spoken to him once more after the day of the big game when he’d tried to save you from Steve. It had taken a while to persuade Steve to let you see him, but you felt like you needed this closure, and so did Peter. And so, in a coffee shop with Steve waiting in the car outside, you’d sat across from Peter and apologised from the bottom of your heart. You’d told him how you never meant to hurt him, but how you really felt you belonged with Steve.

You also told him you were pregnant, and that got him to crack a smile. He told you that you didn’t need to apologise, and that if this was what you truly wanted, then he wouldn’t stop you from living your happiness. He looked you in the eye and told you you’d be a great mother, and he wished you all the best. He also told you that he had to move on with his life, but he’d be there if you ever needed him.

You knew you could never truly be friends with Peter again, not in the way you were before. But his card meant a lot to you anyways.

Steve received congratulatory calls and cards from a bunch of different people, one of them being Sam. He was off traveling the world, and he’d met a girl called Wanda who he wanted to settle down with. He told Steve that he hoped you all could hang out when he brought her back. You told Steve to tell him that you’d like that very much.

After getting married, the two of you had decided to stay in the Rogers’ mansion, much to Mrs. Rogers’ glee. Steve had told you that his family had an apartment on the upper east side as well as one in Brooklyn that you guys could move in to, if you so pleased. He also said that once he’d settled in with a proper job, he’d begin building a dream house for the two of you and your future family. He was currently working in his dad’s company which he was set to take over, but he wanted to go into politics too.

You were happy to stay in the mansion, however. You enjoyed Mrs. Rogers’ company, and you really considered her a friend. Finally, a friend. An unlikely one, but a friend nevertheless. She was stark and honest about her cancer, and it filled you with sorrow knowing that she wouldn’t be here forever. Steve was still confident that she’d get better (or that was how he acted) and Mrs. Rogers told you that you’d have to be strong when the day came, because she knew that he wouldn’t be.

By some miracle, you’d also persuaded Steve to let you go back to university. He wasn’t thrilled about it, but you remembered Mrs. Rogers’ advice on how he’d listen to you when it truly came down to it. And he had, he had, he had! You had just finished your sophomore year, having done most of it online, and passed all your exams with flying colours. You didn’t know if you were going to go back for junior year this fall or if you’d differ it till next year (since Rosie took up so much of your time) but you knew you had the option either way, which you liked.

But right now, at this very moment in time, you’re content just to watch Rosie babble and coo in your arms. Steve strokes her chubby cheek and her little fist grabs his pinkie finger, and your heart just feels so full, your nightmare already forgotten and almost laughable in comparison to how happy you feel right now, encased in your little family. A family of your very own, just like Steve had promised you so long ago.

“She looks exactly like you.” Steve comments softly, and you chirp happily in agreement. Rosie did have a few of Steve’s features, like his freckles. But everything else was so… you. Often, Steve compared her to the baby picture he had of you in his wallet, the one he’d taken from your childhood room, and the resemblance was uncanny. She was you all over again.

“She does, doesn’t she?” You smile, hugging her close. And then your heart drops, and you feel your eyes well with tears at the sudden overwhelming thought of being unable to protect her. “I don’t want her to be like me, Steve. I don’t want her to be shunned and bullied, and unable to stand up for herself. I don’t, I can’t, I…”

He shushes you with kisses, scenting you and calming you down like how he always does, stroking your face and gathering your tears on his fingers. Rosie gazes up at you imploringly, reaching a chubby hand up to pat at your face as if to mimic her daddy, and you can’t help but smile through your tears.

“If she’s anything like you, she’ll be perfect. But she’ll also be perfect if she’s nothing like you.” Steve presses more kisses to the top of your head as you keep your eyes glued on your baby daughter, wanting so badly to protect her from all the cruelty this world had to offer. “Look, why don’t we just take it day by day? Just know that I’ll protect her with my life, and she’ll grow up safe and loved.”

You nod. When had he become so wise?

“Gah!” Rosie squeals cheerfully, as if to say she agrees. The two of you can’t help but laugh.

“That’s right, Rosie, you agree with daddy, don’t you? That’s because daddy is always right,” Steve coos, taking her from your arms and pressing a gazillion kisses to her face. “Your mama’s just worried about you, but you gotta tell her that you’ll be fine.” He thrusts the baby at your face in typical Steve fashion (albeit gently). “Go on, Rosie, tell her!”

Rosie blinks before kicking her feet that are encased in her adorable yellow footie pyjamas, smiling and babbling happily. It’s her own baby language of cute yet nonsensical sounds, but it touches you nonetheless.

If someone asked you a year ago whether you thought you’d be here now, you’d probably have burst into tears because of your own bleak expectations. But watching Steve and your little baby girl, you realise that this is your happy place. Here, in the dead of the night with the only light coming from the dim, orange lamp. Here, where you watch as Steve gets up and twirls Rosie around and around, gently throwing her up in the air and catching her as she laughs and laughs. You’d had a heart attack the first time he’d done that, but now you trusted him with it, and the sound of her gleeful laughter was the most beautiful thing on earth to you.

“C’mere,” Steve reaches for your hand and pulls you up, twirling you around before yanking you into him (again, gently, as he holds Rosie with his other arm). You crash into his chest before he tips you back, kissing you sweetly as your arms wind around his neck. “You make me so happy,” he whispers against your lips, “both my girls make me so happy.”

“You make me happy too,” you say shyly. One year later, and he still makes you shy and gives you butterflies. But you’re so comfortable with him now, so at ease, so familiar, so safe. You guess that’s what love is, and it’s also how much he’s grown as a man. He still has his rules, he’s still that strict alpha that he always was. But he’s also more laidback, sweeter, kinder… You think it’s Rosie who has softened him up, but everyone else (his mom) tells you that it’s you too.

“Oh yeah? I bet I could make you happier, baby.” Steve smirks, bouncing Rosie up and down in his arms while she plays with the stubble on his face. “When are you gonna let me give you another one?”

Your eyes widen, heat rushing to your cheeks. You weren’t opposed to the idea of another baby (although Steve’s vision of having at least five children was something you’d take a while to wrap your head around). But right now, you really just wanted to focus on Rosie. Along with Steve, she was your whole entire world.

Rosie’s tiny arms reach out for you, and it secretly thrills you how you seem to be her favourite person. You take her from Steve, rocking her gently in your arms before you let her rest her head on your shoulder. Her eyes droop, long lashes (just like her daddy’s) fanning her chubby cheeks. All that laughing and being thrown in the air had tired her out, and it only takes her a few more minutes to fall asleep.

“I love you, my beautiful baby girl,” you whisper to her softly, brushing her hair off her face, “sweet dreams.”

You and Steve watch her for a while after you’ve put her down in her crib, her tiny stuffed bear clutched in her fist. It’s something the two of you do quite often, as if you’re both in awe of this perfect little thing that you created together. Steve’s arm winds around your waist, and you lean your head against his chest.

“We need to get her a new bear.” Steve points out. Rosie’s favourite stuffed animal is already kind of tattered, its yellow bow-tie hanging off where the stitching has come loose.

“Or her daddy could sew this one back, just like you did with mine.” You glance at Steve Junior, who is comfortably lounging on his usual place in the middle of the bed.

Steve scoffs. Till this day, he denies it. “I did not. I paid someone to do it.”

“Whatever you say.”

He takes you back to bed, and you lie comfortably on his chest, breathing in his scent. Moments like this make all of your insecurities feel insignificant in comparison. Yes, your mother had left you, and sure, your father had too. And every now and again, you feel strong pangs of hurt when you think about it too much. But the pangs were dulling over time, and they could never contest against the strong feelings of love you had within you now. Love for your baby, love for Steve. Love for your perfect little family. And maybe a little love for yourself, too (you were working on it).

And so, every time that dark voice inside you tries to pull you down under, all you have to do is remember the little things that you have the luxury of enjoying every single day now. Like the feel of Rosie’s chubby fist as it grabs your finger with crazy strong baby strength. Or the way Steve’s eyes light up when he comes home to you both after a long day of work. The feel of his soft hair as you card your fingers through it, how he buries his face in your neck and sighs. The sound of Rosie’s laughter, the way Steve says your name.

You know one day you’ll conquer that dark voice inside your head, silence it forever. In the meantime, you cuddle closer to Steve, brush your hand over his chest. Lean up to kiss his cheek, smile at how his lashes fan his cheekbones. A sense of calm washes over your chest, and you don’t feel afraid of your nightmares anymore.

You settle down, and you go to sleep with a smile on your face.

A/N: The end. And from the bottom of my heart, thank you. Thank you for letting me tell this story from beginning to end. I really hope you found it satisfactory. There is so much I want to say, but I will write a separate post for that. Thank you for reading. I love you all. Please reblog and PLEASE leave feedback, i am dying to know what you guys think!

link to my ko-fi

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #chris evans #chris evans fanfiction

3K notes · View notes

shiny-holographic-star · 3 months

Text

Sirene asteroid (1009) observations

Sagittarius Sirene people appeal to others when they're fulfilling their purpose or having a clear direction in their lives. For example, my cousin has this placement, and she's able to appeal to others when she's so sure about being a dancer, believing that she was made for that, following the direction set by her heart/intuition without questioning it.

I have this placement too, and I think people come to me a lot in search for answers, to understand themselves better since Sagittarius is all about expanding ourselves.

Sirene in the 5th house is about mesmerizing people when you're in the spotlight, being confident and letting yourself shine. Also when performing, so this is a good placement for celebrities. My cousin has this, and she grabs everyone's attention when dancing, plus her personality (5H) is very charismatic.

I also have Sirene in the 5th House, and I'm not so comfortable in the spotlight which to me comes from the Capricorn degree (10°, 22°). This brings delays and challenges when it comes to you expressing or getting used to this alluring energy. You have lessons to learn before you're able to own this energy.

A Leo degree shows that you're confident to use this energy, you were born to be seen and to shine under the spotlight! Guess who has this. Yes, my cousin 💃🏻⭐️ It's worth noting though, that she has insecurities and suffers from anxiety, but she still loves the spotlight and wants to shine.

Libra Sirene attracts people when they show a chill attitude, by wanting to make everyone feel comfortable or included, by using a soft voice and having a great sense of aesthetics. My dad, for example, uses a soft voice when he wants to be polite or liked by others, and shows a super chill attitude with my sister and I's friends. A couple of my girl friends simped for him 😷

My sister has this placement too and she's the type to try and include everyone in the conversation, plus she too softens her voice when being polite or wanting to be liked? She also has a great eye for fashion. And with her friends she appears more chill than how she really is (she's crazy, your honor - in a good way).

Jungkook from BTS has Libra Sirene and his singing voice is very soft compared to what I thought it would sound like at first.

He also has Sirene in the 9th House so he might drawn in more foreign fans than korean. This placement could indicate being alluring when you're open to learn from other cultures or expand your understanding of things. Think about ambiences like college, school, foreing countries.

Scorpio Siren could be appealing when they're intense, reserved, observant, alert. Also, when they're being toxic (controlling or uninterested) or give off that aura of bad boy. For example, one of my exes has this, and he pulled me in with little to no effort, he used to take his time replying to my messages and I waited for him, thinking about what he could be doing and wishing for his attention. 🤢

A high school friend has this placement too, and he had this air or mystery when he actually was doing nothing? He has Scorpio Sun conjunct Sirene, and he wasn't easy to get close to at first. It's like he gave off an air of "I'm on my own, don't bother me", and some girls pinned after him.

Virgo Sirene people are alluring when they keep a humble attitude, lending their attention to you and recognizing they can learn something from anyone. My grandma and two friends (a guy and a girl) sometimes would ask me for advice, to explain something to them or to give them my opinion about something, and as I reply they'd look at me with the utmost attention, not wanting to miss any detail. They look at you recognizing the value of your words and that's so wholesome, it makes you feel heard and appreciated.

Sirene in the 1st House might give a great first impression considering it's the house of beginnings. They might be the person people notice or get curious about first in a group, and nobody knows why; it's unconscious. They also might atract people when they take initiative, which movilizes or motivates others. They seem like they would do good in a leadership position, people would be drawn to listening to them (especially when they're in the energy of the sign their Sirene asteroid falls under).

For example, a Virgo Sirene in the 1st House person might drawn people in by taking iniciative and assuming the role of a leader in a humble way, paying attention to everyone's input and striving to reach their ideal.

#astrology #astro placements #astro community #astro posts #astrology observations #aesthetic #birth chart #natal chart #astro chart #sirene asteroid #sirene #anime

580 notes · View notes

lewdmommie · 10 months

Text

Just friends

Summary: can y/n manage being just friends?

Word count: 7.k

🎀Warning🎀:18+NSFW, oral sex, language, fluff, angst, violence, gore, sexual content,panic attack etc

(Like, comment, reblog for part four💗)

This is part 3 of one night stand

Part 1

Part 2

“We need to talk about yesterday.” You state firmly. Your tone was completely different from your usual lighthearted and funny personality. König and Ghost have quite literally seen you crack a joke in the middle of open gunfire. This was uncharted territory for them, whatever you were about to say had to be important. You take a deep breath, thinking of your next words carefully. The last thing you wanted was to hurt anyone again…especially König.

“Spit it out rookie.” Ghost says annoyed.

“Oh god how do I even say this…I feel something…something I can’t explain when I’m with you.” You look at König, he shifts nervously under your gaze.

“And with you.” Your head turns to face Ghost, staring into those glimmering obsidian eyes. He breaks eye contact looking far off into the distance without a word.

“I don’t know what it means but I know it’s something I can’t ignore.” Your brow scrunches as you choke the words out.

“I want to get to know you both and I’m here to ask for that opportunity. I’m here to ask you to be my friends. No titles. No rankings. No romance. Just…friends.” Your teeth nibble at your lower lip waiting for someone else to talk. It was nerve racking not being able to read their facial expressions. Their body language didn’t give much away either, you shift on your heels.

“That’s what you barged in here to ask for… friendship?” He slowly rises from his desk glaring in your direction.

“Well…yeah” Your voice is low.

“Do you really think friendship can fix everything?” Königs voice is dark, he speaks the word friendship as if it was something rancid on his tongue.

“I’m not saying it can I just…” you explain.

“I don’t need to be a part of whatever you two have going on. Leave. both of you.” Ghost barks.

“You seemed to be a part of it yesterday when you had your hands all over her.” König rasps, turning his killer gaze onto him. Ghost strides from behind the desk, his heavy footsteps fill the air as he takes slow deliberate steps forward. The tension is so thick you can cut it with a knife. A chill runs down your spine as you’re standing flush in between these skyscrapers. He stands tall looking König straight in the eyes, not even acknowledging your presence between them.

“I don’t like your tone colonel. I think you’d better change that.” His head tilts mockingly, sizing him up.

“I was just thinking the same thing about you sergeant.” He beams into him like white hot lasers.

“Hah, you’ve always been balsy König, could always count on you to get the job done. But I want you to remember something…you can beat them out there on that battlefield but here this is my territory and you won’t win.” He steps closer making sure he heard every word.

“Why don't we find out serg.” He says through clenched teeth. At this point you’re sure they have completely forgotten your existence . You plant your palms on ghosts chest pushing him back, he seemed to snap back to reality realizing you were still there.

“This isn’t the time or the place…no war within our army. Those are your words sergeant! As a leader you have to practice and enforce that as law. König I know you’re angry and have every right to be but last night was training and that’s all. I won’t keep repeating myself anymore, I get that it’s hard to trust but you’re going to have to try.” You scold.

“ Why do you care so much? How can you stand here and act like you know what I want. You don’t know anything. I’ve never given you the impression that-“ Simon rambles.

“I know it sounds stupid, crazy even, but I know you want to get closer to me Ghost.” You say gently, König tenses at the soft tone of your voice…had you ever spoken to him that way? He couldn’t recall a time you had, and that made him envious.

“You need someone. You’ve spent so much of your time in isolation, it’s time to let people in.” Never had he heard you sound so sure of yourself.

How could you break down his walls so easily, there is something about you that made him feel at ease. When he’s with you it feels like he’s allowed to smile,Things feel easier…happier. But he knew from experience things like this didn’t come so easy. People always get hurt when love is involved.

“And König…I’m tired of fighting. I’m tired of being angry and resentful towards each other. These past few weeks have brought us closer together and I don’t want to ruin that with one misunderstanding.” His face burns tomato red under his mask, but he wouldn’t show it. His shoulder stiffen as if he’d been sliced across the chest. How could such beautiful words hurt this bad , you’d summed up his feelings for you perfectly but he couldn’t shake the thought of you being so involved with Ghost. Being your friend sounds like absolute torture but it was a ray of hope. Hope that one day maybe you would undoubtedly love him back. He felt like a lost puppy waiting to be owned by you…it was foolish but he couldn’t stop himself. Your naivety muddled the fact that this would be war and you were the prize.

“It has always been you. I’ve got so much blood on my hands it could run a river red and yet you were granted the title of sergeant. You’ve somehow made sure I was one step below you but that’s gonna change. You said I couldn’t win…watch me.” He says sharply.

“So this is your playing field…her?” Ghost looks you up and down with judgmental eyes. You grimace wondering why he looked so unimpressed.

“Hah, fine I’ll bite. What are the rules of the game?” Ghost chuckles, you could hear the smirk in his voice.

“We get individual days to spend with y/n and the other person cannot interfere.”

“And what about the days that aren’t accounted for?” His head tilts curiously.

“First come first serve. It’s up to y/n who she would want to spend that free time with even though I know it’ll be me. No one likes being around you.” König taunts, it isn’t clear if it’s the jealousy talking or the militant hunger for victory. Either way you didn’t appreciate them auctioning off your time and affection like some silly little game.

“You’re on. It’s about time I remind you of your place, colonel.” He reaches out an open palm, König grasps it firmly, shaking on the terms.

It’s like everything you said completely went over their heads but you knew it would take patience and time to build a stronger relationship with them. If thinking of it as a competition got them on board, then you’d just have to play along.

Your arms tremble as you push the weighted bar up with all your strength. Your shoulders burn with each rep begging for a break, to your body’s dismay, you were just warming up. You look up into caramel colored eyes, Maya smiles down at you as she helps support the weight of the bar. With a final push you line it up with the metal stand, it lands with a loud crack. You sit up, sweat pouring down your face. Maya removes the white towel from around her neck, she dabs away the stray droplets as they fall. She was always right there at your side helping you with even the tiniest of things.

“Remember to hydrate. The body can lose up to 10 liters of water a day when active.” She hands you her purple water bottle.

“Your knowledge never ceases to amaze me, you're gonna make a great doctor one day.” You tip the bottle up, taking several gulps before coming back up for air. Maya’s eyes softened, she needed to hear that; with all the death and injuries on base that passion could be lost. She is a practicing apprentice Doctor on base as she studies remotely to get her doctorate in medical science. Balancing education with active military duty was no easy feat, personal attachment can get in the way. People she laughed with, pulled pranks on, sat and had meals with…had died in her arms. Brutal excruciating deaths that she could do nothing about. No matter how hard she tried to save everyone…their blood still stained her hands. She thought often about what she would do if you got hurt…could she save you? Maya shakes the negative thoughts away reminding herself that you were one of the special forces best. You may be a handful but you were damn good at your job.

“Thank you y/n, you don’t know how much that means to me.” She stamps a kiss on your forehead.

“I walked in on Sergeant Ghost and Colonel König talking about some new intel on the target. There might be a raid soon, I know how anxious you are with new missions.” A look of discomfort flashes on her face leaving just as quickly. She puts on a fake smile not wanting to put any more stress on you. You were the one who would be out there on the front lines risking your life and she didn’t want to worry you.

“I’m okay,really, you get used to it.” You weren’t sure if she was trying to convince you or herself.

“If you ever need to talk…I am here Maya. I’m always here.” You bore into her with sincere eyes.

“and that’s why you’re my best friend. Now come on, we gotta keep that heart rate up.” She takes your hand, helping you to your feet. The two of you walked over to the pull up bar, arm day was not fun…at all. Your muscles were already achy and tired but you had to push in order to build endurance.

“Can’t I just work on legs today, that’s so much easier.” You whine, Maya laughs patting your lower back.

“As much as I agree with that statement, no. You handle high caliber weaponry. if you’re not strong, All that push back could damage your muscles.” She raises her arms holding the stretches in ten second intervals. Because of her insane height there is no need to use a stepping ladder, she simply reaches up and gets to work. Her fingers graze the bar before pulling back suddenly.

“I forgot my chalk, it helps prevent blisters, I’ll be back. Go ahead and start your sets without me. I gotta run back to our room.” She jogs off leaving you standing alone in the gym. You always felt slightly self conscious being in the weight room without a partner. Like everyone was watching you. Judging you. In reality no one even glanced your way but that didn’t stop the anxiety from striking. A small tremor shakes your hands as you reach up for the bar. It’s way too tall to grab on your own, Maya was usually there to give you a lift. You scan the area for a spare stepping stool or chair but everything is occupied. Eyes. Eyes everywhere. There looked to be two of everything as your vision doubled.The room begins to spin and your knees feel weak, where was Maya? When would she be back? Maya? Maya? Maya?!

“Y/n look at me. Are you okay? Should I take you to the infirmary?” Your vision begins to focus turning the two ghosts in front of you, into one. Your breathing is shaky, you nod unable to speak. His head tilts forward with concern, his bare hand cups

your elbow as he pulls you closer.

“Your eye movements are unsteady,breathing accelerated, pupils dilated…you’re having a panic attack. Talk to me y/n what is distressing you?” His voice is gentle, calming even.

“People. Just so many people. M-Maya left… I’m alone. I-I don’t like being alone.”you choke. His heart breaks at your words, loneliness was no stranger to him. Thinking back, Ghost couldn’t recall a time when you weren’t surrounded by people. He figured it’s because of how likable and fun you were but now the dots began to connect. You made sure to never be alone because it scared you…just like it scared him.

“I’ll stay with you.” His voice was earnest, he surprised himself with his sudden reaction. Normally Ghost worked out alone as he did with most things. But he wanted to help you, seeing you so shaken up tugged at something deep inside him.

“That’s it…slow deep breaths. One…two… exhale three. Very good.” He coaches. He looked to be very familiar with this sort of thing, you wondered if he’d dealt with this before. Ghost didn’t seem like the type to deal with anxiousness, he was always so cool headed.

“I’m good now.” You huff.

“Are you sure? We can go somewhere more private.” Your face heats up at his word choice, you remember the wet dream from just nights ago.

“N-no I’m fine, I still have a few sets to do.” You slide your elbow from his grasp.

“Then let’s do it… I assume your next set is pull ups and judging by your size, you usually have Maya help you up?” He hypothesized walking behind you to examine the bar.

“Yeah Maya always lifts me up-“ your words are cut off by his strong hands sinking into your waist. His fingers press into the soft plush of your hips, the crotch of his cargos rubs against your ass. His eyes fall low as he stares down at you, his thumb absentmindedly drawing circles. You don’t speak up, getting lost in the comfort of his touch. The rush of his heart vibrates through your back, the rise and fall of his chest quickens. You can hear the heaviness in his breath, the heat in his mask makes sweat bead at his brow. This isn’t the first time your bodies have met this closely but somehow this felt…Different. You snap to the reality that there is a room full of people here witnessing this moment. That idea made you focus on the initial goal…pull ups.

“I’m ready.” You assure, jumping as he hoists your body up with ease. Your fingers begin to slip, ghost bounces you up, allowing you to readjust the grip.

Even with the extra help, your arms burn as you pull the entirety of your weight up and over the bar. Your chin taps the cool metal marking one successful rep, ghost pats your thigh.

“Good job, make sure you’re breathing with each pull.” He instructs, his arms squish the fluff of your upper thighs. You nod, extending the length of your arms preparing for the next pull. Ghost is painfully aware of how your ass is pressed against his upper chest. His face is inches from the smooth damp skin of your back, his eyes track the small trickle of sweat that runs down your spine. He says a silent prayer, begging not to get hard in front of his subordinates. Even the slightest touch of your body drove him fucking mad, he’d been attracted to women before but never like this. Those thoughts were always intrusive and fleeting, he didn't let his mind wander too deeply but you…he imagined ripping those mauve pink leggings open and ramming every solid inch of his cock inside you. He hated how much control you had over him without even trying.

“I-I can’t take anymore” you groan, feeling the intense burning sensation growing in your arms.

Oh come on, he thinks. You couldn’t have chosen a better word choice, a shock shoots up his leg activating his dormant member. He nearly drops you as the mirror shows him a glimpse of his hard dick poking through his gray sweatpants. He couldn’t let you see him like this, before you could blink your feet were on the ground and ghost was B lining it to the men’s locker room.

“Hey wait where are you going?!” You call as he scurries away. He doesn’t turn around or even answer as he disappears into the white locker room door. Well that was rude, you think. You were used to him treating you like some kind of germ but this seemed off and you couldn’t put your finger on it.

There still hadn’t been any sign of Maya since earlier in the weight room, a sinking feeling pulls at your stomach. It wasn’t like her to just up and disappear without saying a word . The military base wasn’t the biggest in the world so there weren't many places she could have gone. Your eyes scan the mess hall landing on the table you two usually shared. Empty. No sign of her at all, you begin to worry what would keep her from eating lunch. Lunch is Maya’s favorite time of day apart from breakfast and dinner, this was strange. You look at the lunch line and physically cringe when you see that ominous brown paper bag with your name on it. It wouldn’t bother you one bit if you never saw another peanut butter and jelly ever again. You snake through the crowd and head toward the exit deciding to go search for her, it’s what she would have done for you. Just as you burst out of the sea of soldiers there is a deep voice bellowing down the long tan hallway.

“Y/n” a voice rumbles in the distance. Loud heavy footsteps shake the ground as König jogs in your direction.

“I didn’t see you in the mess hall, have you eaten already?” His words are rushed and nervous.

“No I haven’t, I was actually going to-“ he chimes in disregarding the rest of your sentence.

“That’s perfect! I wanted to invite you to have lunch with me.” His voice sounds energetic.

“Well I was just about to go look for Maya…” you trail looking around trying to spot her.

“Oh I saw her a few minutes ago when I was walking past the infirmary.” He says. The infirmary should have been the first place you looked, Maya did tons of overtime with Dr.Bradshaw. Extra hours counted as field work for her university grade, but overworking wasn’t always a good sign for her. You take a mental note to ask her later not wanting to disturb her study time with the Doctor. There was a nagging urge to ask König exactly what she was up to when he saw her but you decided not to snoop. If there was an issue she would come to you about it, you were always there for her and she knew that…or at least you hoped she did.

“Oh okay then I’ll just talk to her later thanks.” You spin on your heels ready to jog back to the cafeteria. A leather gloved hand entraps your wrist, holding you still. Your head whips around staring up into his forest green eyes, they dart back and forth searching your face.

“I’m sorry, I-I uh did you have plans for lunch today? If so I completely understand…I know you might still be worried about Maya.” His voice is shaky.

“No I don’t have plans for lunch, ugh I’m the one who should be sorry I almost blew you off just now. What kind of friend am I?” You joke. His chest tightens at the word friend, he drops your hand back to your side. It catches your attention but you breeze by it not wanting to cause any damage.

“I’d love to have lunch with you König.” You say enthusiastically trying to salvage the situation.

“Perfect. Let’s go, try to act normal.” He nods in the directions of the exit motioning you to follow his lead. You had a feeling this was going to be another mission impossible, König mixed with the words “act normal” never turned out good. Since the recent feud with ghost he was more rebellious than ever. You cautiously walk behind him trailing him out of the double doors, the sun beats down on your skin. Your eyes squint from the sudden lighting change, your hand lifts to shade your forehead blocking out the brightness. Las Almas Mexico was a beautiful mountainous place with endless desert views. There were small cities with an economy based on agriculture and farming. Like every major metropolitan region there are city areas for entertainment and tourism. The base was quite a distance from those areas, the deserts granted seclusion. Most of the drug activity and gang violence originated in the city areas. Although there were plenty of small gangs they all worked under the one major crime organization in the city…The Las Almas Cartel. The whole reason for your special forces deployment was to monitor and take down this organization. They participated in egregious crimes against the residents of Las Almas and helped push the drug epidemic throughout multiple countries. You walk forward,your shoulder brushes his arm ever so slightly. His eyes shift away with embarrassment, he hadn’t touched you since that night. People chirp hello’s as you slip through the ocean of workers, there were so many familiar happy faces in the crowd. You are grateful König is by your side or all the attention could have become overwhelming very quickly. It warmed your heart to be loved by so many but it became exhausting, always chasing approval from others.

König senses a shift in your mood, boldly, he rests his big hand on your lower back; ushering you along. He leads you to the vehicle repair and storage shed. There are lanes wall to wall filled with earth toned military vehicles ranging from Humvee’s to M113’s.

“Oh hey y/n! What are you doing all the way out here darlin’?” His southern twang is thick. The dimples in his cheeks deepen as he smiles toothy and big. His giant veiny hands stain the white cloth as he wipes away black sludge.

“Hey Jack, I hope we didn’t interrupt your work.”

“You could never bother me y/n seeing you is always a treat. Speaking of treats, where’s ol doll face Maya I haven’t gotten my daily fix of her.” He laughs. Jack was a flirt that was no secret but everyone knew about his unrequited love for Maya. Most people found her attractive but Jack’s feelings were public, making sure to scare off anyone who thought about making a move. They were just like an old married couple, arguing about any and everything.

“She’s working in the infirmary.” You explain.

“I’m gonna have to go and pay her a visit, she can’t run forever.” Wrinkles form at the corner of his eyes as he smiles ear to ear.

You can’t help but cheese at his friendly face. König didn’t appreciate Jack's lingering gaze. His eyes slit with annoyance, why were you smiling at him like that? He thinks burning with jealousy.

“I’m taking a Jeep on patrol.” He stated plainly.

“Sure thing, I’ll just need to see that authorization letter from the sergeant.” He says wiping the oil from his cheek.

“I am your Colonel. I grant myself authorization.” His arms fold over his chest as he stands tall and confident.

“But the sergeant said-“ Jack starts.

“Unless you want to be scrubbing toilets for a week I suggest you give me the keys. If not, I’ll just have to report you for interference with a mandatory patrol. Are we clear?” His voice is stern. You find yourself gawking at him. his power had you melting in his gloved palm. König didn’t like abusing his power but there was no way he’d go beg ghost to allow him to take you out. If he wanted you to himself he would make that happen at any cost. It didn’t matter who he had to step over as long as he got to be with you. Jack stares him down for a moment weighing out his options, he could either disobey Ghost and get punished or disobey König and get punished. Great choices he think’s sarcastically.

“Look, if you’re gonna take her out you gotta be back before sunset or else ghost is gonna be on my ass…deal?” He extends a hand to König.

“Deal.” He takes his hand firmly.

“Here I just did an oil change on her so she’s the best I’ve got right now. I’m still repair’n the others.” He tosses him a set of Keys with a dog tag attached. König nods, throwing his black duffel bag in the back seat. You never understood the idea of jeeps being doorless but as you hop in it makes a little more sense. If you’re being shot at you could literally jump right in. You chuckle at the ridiculous thought of you diving into a moving jeep.

“What’s so funny?” He asks, clicking his seat belt and cranking the ignition.

“Nothing, it's dumb.” You laugh tugging the seat belt over your chest. He chuckles backing out of the garage. His arm lays across the back of your headrest as he looks behind him making sure no one was there. Your thighs clench at his focused body language, how did he manage to turn you on with such mundane tasks. The car whips around, he straightens the wheel and puts the gear in drive.

An armed soldier from the gate walks up to the driver's side scoping out the inside of the car.

“Colonel. Where are you headed?” He salutes.

“Me and y/n will be holding a patrol unit on the mountain. There’s been reports of suspicious activity by the locals.” He lies smoothly. The mask came in handy since without it every emotion he felt would be on display. König is, unbenounced to everyone else,a terrible liar. His face gives him away every time. Despite what people think he could be read like a book if it wasn’t for the mask.

“Yes sir. Open the gate!” He calls.

König’s shoulders relax as the metal gates swing open. Mission accomplished. He finally had you to himself for a day. After spotting your workout with the sergeant; he had to find a way to steal your attention back. Your head leans out the door watching in awe as the ground gets further away. The mountain road is bumpy and narrow, your hand grips the seatbelt tightly.

“Scared of heights?” He asks, looking over at you with concern.

“Of course not, keep your eyes on the road.” You scold.

“You know it doesn’t help to look down.” He reaches over, tugging your chin away from the ground. His fingers linger for a second before returning to the wheel. You’d seen this view from the chopper when you first arrived on base but this is a new perspective and it is gorgeous. The cacti bloomed with tiny magenta flowers, the dry soil cracked into interesting shapes. Small animals poke their heads from the grooves in the ground,and Even the sky is clear and vast. If maps didn’t exist you’d have sworn the land stretched on forever. The heat is also comforting, the sun wraps you in a tight embrace kissing your skin. You wished you could see his face, you wondered if he was enamored with the scenery just as you are.

“It’s amazing isn’t it…like a whole new world.” He breathes looking around curiously. One hand gripped the wheel and the other pointed to a viper green snake in the distance.

“Did you see that?!” He exclaims excitedly.

“I did.” You say softly.

He coughs awkwardly, he didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of you but animals are his weakness. He felt an obligation to protect creatures smaller than him, what better way to use his gigantic size. After what felt like an eternity he pulls into an open area at the top of the mountain overlooking the base. He puts the car in park and takes the key from the ignition. You unbuckle your seatbelt, turning your body to hop down; König jogs around the vehicle blocking your path.

“Allow me.” He pretends to open an invisible door.

You jump down and punch his arm playfully. You both laugh filling the open air with joy. He admires you bent over laughing from your gut, a real laugh, that’s when you were most beautiful. He loved seeing happiness radiate from you, you wore it well. He wanted to make everyday a good day filled with bliss, he dreamed of one day being the one to make that a reality for you. He swings his duffel bag out with a huff walking over to a clear patch of land. With razor focus he unzips the bag unloading its contents onto the sandy ground. He lays a green blanket down before laying zip lock bags of mystery foods on to the cloth. To finish off the set up he sets up two colas on either side of the picnic blanket. It was one of the cutest things you’ve ever seen, he plops down in the blanket waving you over. You can’t help but smile at the exquisite dining arrangement designed by the renowned König.

“Beautiful set up chef.” You joke.

“On today’s menu we have the chefs’ choice…Ham and cheese sandwich. My secret ingredient is melted cheese courtesy of today’s weather. Strawberries, hand picked by me from the local farmers market. And two delicious warm cokes.” Your nose scrunches in disgust, earning a hearty laugh from the colonel. His laugh was like liquid gold, it rumbled deep, shaking your core. It’s a shame others didn’t get to witness this playful side of him.

“Sounds… yummy.” You say snagging a ham sandwich. You unzip the bag and have an experimental bite. To your surprise it’s not too bad, somehow the sun melted cheese worked. Not something you’d have regularly for a snack but the fact that König cooked it, made it taste better. You can’t imagine him moving around the kitchen, did he keep the mask on or take it off? You giggle at the image of him with an apron and mask on.

“You’re always giggling and I’m never a part of the joke.” He pouts.

“I was just imagining you cooking in a cute little apron. Would you keep the mask on or take it off.” You tease.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” He slips his sandwich under the hem of his mask, taking a bite. At this angle the sunlight glows behind you like a halo. König admires how angelic you are, he didn’t understand how someone could look so perfect. There wasn’t a word in any language that could describe your beauty, inside and out you were radiant. A rose blush sweeps his face, he looks away realizing how long he’s been staring. Butterflies flutter in your stomach.You turn away relocating your attention to the incredible view. At this height the wind whips strongly , blowing a cool breeze through the air. You close your eyes tilting your face to the sky, his eyes trail down your neck peering at the steady thump of your vein. He remembers the way you look with your pulse beating out of control;lustful eye low eyes staring back at him. That night you took a piece of him with you, he has never been so needy for a woman in his life. In a metaphorical sense you were a succubus and he would gladly give up his soul.

“God you’re gorgeous.” He breathes. Your eyes widen as you stammer for words nervously.

“W-what, you can’t just say that out of nowhere.” You stutter.

“Should I give you a warning next time?” He flirts.

“You’re always messing with me.” You slap his hand. He smirks loving how you crumble for him. He reaches over to grab the bag of fresh strawberries, his palm brushes the base of your thigh. He slides a berry under his mask, making a sound of approval.

“Mmm. These are really good. Try it.” He plucks a strawberry from the bag, holding it up to your lips.

You’re hesitant for a while looking at the berry in disbelief, he couldn’t be serious. This is definitely not something friends do but you do have a habit of overthinking things. Maybe this is one of those things, it’s just a strawberry, nothing less, and nothing more. You nod coyly, leaning in and wrapping your plump lips around the fruit as your teeth sink in; taking a small bite. His jaw tenses as he fights back the urge to lick the sticky juices from your mouth. With his free hand he lifts his mask, exposing the lower portion of his face. There is an intensity behind his eyes as he slides the rest of your half eaten berry past his blushed lips.

“You’re right, these are…really…good.” You trail as he closes the distance between you.

“Here, have some more then.” He bites another one. His giant hand rests at the back of your neck pulling you closer inch by inch. All thoughts evacuate your mind as his soft breath brushes your lips. He’s so close you can almost taste him. So achingly close that it makes your heart leap right out of your chest. Why was he doing this to you, making you yearn to feel him again. Reminding you of the mind bending orgasms he gave you that night. It wasn’t fair, how could you be friends when he is so irresistible? You can’t. You shouldn’t. You won’t. He brushes his soft warm lips over yours begging for permission, pleading for just one kiss. You did. You’re caught in his net as your lips meld desperately in a symphony of passion. His tongue spreads the strawberry nectar across your taste buds making the kiss intoxicatingly sweet. He shifts onto his knees towering over you, never breaking the kiss. He leans down deepening it, gripping the curve of your hips; a camo clad knee forces through the barrier of your thighs. It’s feverish and greedy, he kisses you like he’ll never get the chance to again. Your back arches into his touch, a loud moan echoes through the mountain as he teases your pulsing clit. The friction was unbearable, it felt good but it wasn’t enough. You wanted, no, needed more. Your pussy quivers as he breaks the kiss to nip at the sensitive skin of your neck.

“W-we can’t. Friends don’t uhn-friends can’t do this.”You pant.

“I want to please you. I didn’t get to show you all of my tricks last time.” He whispers seductively. He pushes you back onto your elbows, clearing the picnic blanket in one swoop of his hand. You stare down at him, your breathing is erratic wondering what his next move will be. Strong calloused fingers work the complicated buckle of your work pants. Soon your pants are not only unbuckled but being slid down the length of your legs. Your chunky black combat boots prevented them from going any further so naturally he removed those too; leaving you completely exposed from the waist down. You couldn’t believe you were letting this happen and in a desert nonetheless. König wastes no time grasping your hips and lifting your pelvis, leveling your pussy with his eager mouth. Your shoulders and head rest on the blanket while your lower half is suspended upward; legs dangling on his hunched shoulders. Even with him leaning over, your ass is still elevated at a staggering height. You’re completely at his mercy, no matter how much you squirm his grip is iron tight. The black fabric of his mask sits on the plush of your mound hiding his face as he kisses your warm lower lips. You couldn’t see anything from this angle and the mask added even more security to his next action. You watch the clouds move up above as he traces the glazed slit of your entrance, your hips buck in response. A quiet whimper vibrates your skin as he tastes you for the first time, the scent of your arousal fills the limited space in his mask. Every breath he took was filled with you, that one lick already had his dick frustratingly hard and throbbing.

“Du schmeckst so verdammt fantastisch (you taste so fucking amazing)” he mumbles into your heat. It’s impossible to hold back any more, his tongue slithers up and down the slippery split of your cunt. The tip of his tongue draws circles around your stiff clit, he nips and sucks at the bundle of nerves making your legs shake. His hands sink into your thighs as he pushes deeper into your delectable pussy. The thick flat of his tongue laps at your labia teasing the wet folds of your outer sex. Your muscles contract as he explores every crevice of your dewy flower, your juices dribble down his chin as he teases the perimeter of your tight hole. You grind up into his face wanting him to go further tasting the deepest parts of your sweetness. His hands release your thighs leaving the heavy lifting to your core strength. Your body shakes as you fight to stay in this position not wanting the pleasure to end.

“That’s it, you're doing so good Schatz(love) you’re going to have to put in some work to cum.” He breathes. His hands tug at your shirt fighting to push it up past your breast. You decide to help him out, lifting your shirt and black bra in one motion; your nipples are stiff with arousal. He rolls your hard peaks between his fingers, teasing and caressing the sensitive buds. Your mouth falls slack as his tongue eases into you, your walls clench as he strokes your inner velvet. A sloshing wet sound fills the air as he fucks your cunt with his long skillful tongue. Your hands fist the blanket as you become overwhelmed by all the sensations. How could something wrong feel so good.

“No no no you can’t cum yet, I am still enjoying my meal.” He reprimands. You bite your lip and stare up at him with pleading teary eyes.

“P-please let me cum, s’to much c-can’t hold it please.” You cry.

“Look at me Prinzessin. Focus on me. Just like that, I’m so proud of you. Don’t give up beautiful. You're taking it so well.” He praises, locking eyes with you. He feels your pussy flutter on his tongue as you fight the urge to drench his face. He sucks your clit into his mouth gently, with a final pull sending you tumbling over the edge.

“I’m g-gonna cum, need to cum fuck-“

Your spent cunt spurts delicious cream all over Königs face, drenching his mask.

“Look at the mess you made. Naughty girl.” He eases your body back to the ground, licking his lips. You lie there twitching, unable to form a coherent sentence.

“Suns going down. We’d better start heading back to base.” He says in a disappointed tone. He wished this day could last forever but that wasn’t realistic. The last thing he wanted to deal with was ghost pulling rank on him again. You nod helping him pack his duffel bag, he smiles as your hands brush when reaching for the same items.

“I had so much fun with you today.” You chat loading the leftover snacks into the bag.

“Me too. We should come back here soon, I’ll pack better lunches next time.” He promises, throwing the bag over his shoulder.

“Everything was perfect. I wouldn’t change a thing.” You assure, swallowing back the feelings of regret. What did this mean moving forward, did you make the mistake of leading him on again? König catches a glimpse of doubt on your face and speaks up.

“Today…never happened. We hung out, as friends.” He pats your head. You smile up at him appreciating his kindness and understanding, he knew you never meant to hurt him. Today was all on him, he took that step knowing what it meant and he’d do it again. He knows you need time to figure things out and he was done being impatient. He is sure about his feelings for you and is willing to wait as long as it takes.

“Let’s go.” He taps your butt as he walks by. You gasp smacking his back in return,trailing behind him to the jeep. He tosses the duffle bag in the back seat, walking around to help you into the car.

You stop in your tracks peering up into his beautiful lush green eyes, his heart thumps rapidly.

“Did you forget something?” He asks.

“No. You’re just…incredible you know that.”

“Y/n I-Get down!” He leaps forward shielding your body as you two tumble to the ground in a panic.

“Ah! Scheisse! I’ve been hit.” He groans, squeezing the oozing gunshot wound. A ringing sounds in your ears from the blast, everything moves in slow motion as you help him limp to the Jeep.

“A fucking sniper. We have to move! Now! Drive” he instructs baring down his teeth, holding back a scream. His leg is on fire, blood spurts between his fingers as he applies pressure. The gas pedal is touching the floor as you push the vehicle as fast as it’ll go. Your fist beats down on the horn trying to alert the front gate you’re coming in hot. one hand swerves the wheel frantically twisting and turning and the other is on Königs head holding him close as you quick fire words of affirmation.

“It’s gonna be okay, please stay with me. Hang on alittle longer. König? König?! Fuck!” You sob whipping the wheel back and forth making it harder for the snipe to aim. His consciousness begins to fade from the excessive blood loss; the once cream flooring of the Jeep is now a cherry red. His hand goes limp as he faints no longer applying pressure to the wound. He’s fading fast.

“No no no wake up. I know you’re sleepy but stay with me please please König we’re almost there.” Tears stream down your face as you beat down on the horn. The gate is a few feet away, the soldier on guard sees you approaching at 150 miles an hour. He sounds the alarm, triggering the gate to open up slowly. You can’t let up on the speed it’s too late, you have to push it. Any further delay could cost him his life, you slam your foot to the floor giving it all you’ve got. A loud crack slices through the air as you burst through the half opened gate, taking the side view mirrors off in the process. Both feet hit the brakes forcing you to a violent stop. You jump out, yelling for back up.

“Please help me, he's hit! The colonel has been shot! Please he isn’t responding help me!” You scream, wrapping your hands around his calf trying to stop the bleeding.

“Y/n! What happened?!” Maya runs up taking off her shirt to use as a makeshift tourniquet.

“They shot him.” You hyperventilate.

“Who shot him?! Get him to the operating room now!” She barks at the nearby soldiers.

“I-I don’t know…” you sob watching the men carry him away.

To be continued?…

2K notes · View notes

reverieblondie · 2 months

Note

I really like the shy s/o headcanons you did. If I can, I’d like to request hcs of Haarlep, Gale, Halsin, & Astarion (& anyone else you might feel like adding) w/ a s/o that’s almost always cool and collected (sort of like a kuudere).

Thanks! 💜

So I am unsure If I didn't go cool enough or if I went to Kuudere for this request, but I really enjoyed writing it so I hope you enjoy reading it! Last Bullet point is NSFW!

Gale

Gale isn't exactly sure how to explain why his heart stirs when he sees you, it just does. You could be reading quietly by the campfire or cutting down enemies, but he always has the same thought when he sees you: Elegance. Your stoic demeanor and how you carry yourself with such grace have been swirling in his brain since your first meeting. You could be covered in any amount of filth but you will still have that keen look in your eye and speak in such an articulated fashion that to him it sounds like poetry, though you know it's not. Posed and a cool tone always the same, Gale finds a certain comfort from being around you. It's kinda nice he's always close by. Sure, he can be a dork, but Gale feels things so deeply, a thing you wish you could relate more to. Though with Gale you find that a part of you is becoming softer, it's mainly directed towards him but it's an improvement. Gale admires you and you think he deserves to be as equally admired and you don’t mind being that person for him. It only will lead to him falling for you more.

You and Gale were enjoying a moment together in his tent. It had become something like a ritual that at the end of the day as everyone settled into their tents Gale would read aloud a book to you or anyone else who wanted to join. Tonight, however, his tent only had one guest, you. As Gale read his eyes flicked up toward where you were sitting beside him listening intently. You two had found yourselves in the position before on other nights, but tonight was different. You were quiet and so close, in fact from how close he could smell the subtle sweetness that laces itself to your skin. Always so elegant, even now with your hair slightly disheveled from the day. Sitting so patiently for him to continue reading. Gently, Gale brushes the hair back, his fingers grazing you so delicately. Looking at the text you see his smile as he slightly leans in, you follow his lead without a second thought. Forgetting all about the story and relishing in the passionate kiss. You were both happy nobody joined you two for the story that night.

Gale is always showing you his appreciation in any way he can. Making dinner for you and the rest of the camp. Reading to you and recommending books. Teaching you what he knows about magic, turns out he's a great teacher. You just want to be able to show your appreciation to him, you can just kiss him or go to his tent later and show him what he means to you ,but you want to work on expressing yourself. You were helping him prepare dinner for everyone, as he cooked and would look over at you he would have that same sweet smile on his face. It’s time to express yourself and dig deep. “Do you know how much you mean to me? You are wonderful, and…I’m happy to be yours.” Hours later Gale was still giddy from the sudden phrase.

Though you try to express your love for Gale through words like he so often does, sometimes words just lack the way you truly feel for him. That's how you two often end up in this situation. Gale with a fist full of your hair bites his lip as he watches you through lidded eyes. He's cummed twice now but you're still down there sucking and licking on him, overstimulating him for more. Though he's completely flushed, you're still looking up at him with those keen eyes as cool as always. On the inside your body is a flame of want, but you know how much he loves your elegant lips wrapped around him. Don’t worry it's your turn after he gives you one more…

Haarlep

You drive them crazy…You're so calm and collected at all times, despite their teasing and taunting you never give anything away. Harrlep wants you to break, they are desperate to be the cause and are very open about telling you this. But you always keep your cool demeanor. It's become a game for them, to be the one to have your resolve tremble down to lust. You on the other hand find their want oddly amusing. Typically games like this don’t interest you but the amount of time Haarlep devotes to you, the way their hungry eyes rake over you does make something in you stir…Maybe one day you will let their game progress, but it will be on your terms, for now, they will have to be pleased with your smiles as you leave them hanging. The chase makes it all the better.

They had grown tired of the game as they watched you ramage around the House of Hope looking for whatever artifact you needed this time on your adventure. Haarleps fiery eyes watched as you were browsing around not even turning to share a glance with them. Haarlep had tried it all, whispering filth in your ear, running their tail up and down your back, hells they even tried ignoring you back but nothing worked in making you want them. Now here you are alone with them and still nothing. Their irritation grew till they finally cracked. Grabbing your arm Haarlep spun you around to grab your chin “I don’t take kindly to be ignored.” they growled right before they brought their lips to yours and kissed you. The kiss was raw and passionate, their heated lips made you feel like you caught an instant fever. Haarlep had to hold your weight as your limbs turned to jelly. A sudden rush in your lower stomach was tempting you with depraved thoughts of more. They tasted like the finest wine you could indulge in forever if you wanted to. As they broke the kiss and looked at you expectantly for any kind of reaction; hate, want, anything to tell them you felt anything at all. Haarleps eyes widened at what they saw and their lips spread to a delighted smile. Your eyes doe like in a breathless expression with the tinting of red to your cheeks. You were blushing because of them.

After defending Raphael Haarlep was free to do whatever they wanted and what did they decide to do? Join you on your adventures, though the relationship between you two was never defined exactly you knew that deep down you were theirs, your soul be damned. Haarlep was always waiting for you and though they would play it off as just for fun you saw the way their eyes would soften when you emerged to your room. Though, sometimes you felt like Haarlep was putting on a show for you at times. You want them to be comfortable and not have to perform for you. “No games Haarlep…Can I please just hold you?” When you first asked this Haarlep seemed confused by the idea of cuddling, but as they laid their head against your chest to have you then softly you wrapped your arms around them. Haarlep lays there in your arms silent, the only noises are the soft sounds of your breathing and the thrumming of your heart. This intimacy…stirs something within them…

Haarlep is always the one to take the lead in your relationship, you figured they liked the feeling of control. But after they made a teasing comment about you needing to be more aggressive with what you want, you took it to heart, and they were so happy you did. They were getting drunk off it, your moans leaving your swollen lips as they held your wrist in their warm hands. You bounce up and down on them, taking them in so deeply. You're delicious as you tighten around their cock so close to coming undone but holding back. Your eyes are watching Haarlep so intently, it's strange they rarely ever get raddled during sex but with how you are looking right now they might be the ones to come undone first this time…

Halsin

You're different compared to others he has encountered. Halsin is so used to people becoming nervous or giddy when he is around, some disdain him, many are eager to befriend him, and then there are others wanting to bed him. But you? You never give anything away to how you might feel…well that was the case till he figured you out. It was a simple praise, he thought nothing much of it as he told you how good you were. The way your cheeks glowed red as your eyes stayed to his…it was a slight crack to your shield and he wanted more, he wanted to watch you blush and be the reason for it, he wanted you to feel better and have all the praise you deserved. Halsin would praise you every day just so he could witness your flustered features. Halsin figured out how to get past your shields and despite this usually being something to mortify you, it was instead a welcomed change. It's odd feeling vulnerable to another person but Halsin is a gentle soul, he will treat you tenderly.

Halsin had invited you out on one of his typical hikes through nature as the others visited the nearby town. Halsin being a druid preferred nature to make him more relaxed and you preferred being around Halsin so it was a win-win situation. Halsins soothing voice and calm dementor always put you at ease, though today as you walk closely to his towering figure something deep within you stirs. You come to an abrupt stop and he follows looking down at you curiously. His hazel eyes took you in then smiled softly, it made your heart skip and you finally knew what was happening to you. “I think I want to kiss you.” You say bluntly. Halsin looks at you surprised then smirks, “You think, or you know?” You stare at him, not breaking your gaze, “I know I do.” Halsin opens his arms out to embrace you, “Then come here.” His voice purrs. You place your hands on his wide chest and let him take the lead. The kiss was slow and intimate and tasted like honey.

Halisn is a giver, he is always bringing you gifts like flowers, fresh ingredients, rare stones, and his favorite showering you in praise till your cool dementor falters and you blush like an idiot. You want to do something for him, give him something that you know he would enjoy. After much consideration and time, you had the perfect gift. You approached him very casually with it hidden behind your back. Halsin, not being a fool, knew something was up when you were already blushing and he hadn’t praised you yet. When you finally revealed it he felt his heart squeeze. A poorly made wooden duck, “You make it look so easy…” you say simply and he can’t help but laugh, the rest of the day he told you how to properly make a wood carving. It's now become your favorite bonding time.

Lovers in the past have always been so ravenous when it came to intimacy with him. Scratching, Biting, just being rough in general. You, however, treat him as if he were made of glass, blushing softly, cooing, and caressing him tenderly. Halsin has seen you in a fight, you are forced to be reckoned with, but in the intimacy in his arms, you are blushing and sweet. You speak every honeyed praise that comes to your mind as he goes down on your drinking in your release. Your voice in pleasure is becoming his favorite song these days.

Rolan

When he first laid eyes on you he immediately thought you were one the coolest people he’s ever seen. It was right after a fight, your teammates were cheering and hollering as you all came into the grove, and you walked in the background watching your ragtag group. Then your eyes met his. You didn’t wave, or smile, you just simply gave a nod towards him. Cal and Lia swear they have never seen Rolan blush so much, of course, he denied it, but on the inside his heart was racing. After that day he found himself wanting to have you think he was as impressive. Lucky for him you did find him impressive, not only because he was a talented wizard but because he was an ambitious dreamer. You admired all he did for his family and found yourself lightening up every time you got to talk to him. His rich voice always made your head fill with stars despite your cool outside. As a couple you and Rolan are almost inseparable, you're always there to be his calming present and he brings an extra spark to your life. He might think you're the cool one, but in your eyes it's him.

Rolan had done what Cal and Lia deemed impossible, he managed to ask you out on a date finally and was successful. A sunset stroll through the city was the plan and it was going well. Rolan was putting on his best confident demeanor as you listened to him intently, your bright eyes watching him carefully. Gods, how he loved your eyes, hair, body, and lips. Rolan felt his palms getting sweaty as he kept glancing at you. Each time his eyes landed on your perfectly kissable lips. He wanted so badly to just grab you and kiss your lips, stealing a taste for him to hold onto forever. Though his stuttering and nerves were getting in the way of that, he wanted you to think he was cool and collected, a perfect match for you. He can’t just grab you and kiss you! Tail swishing around irritatedly, he is chastising himself to get a grip on his emotions and to stop staring at you so desperately. Then feels his collar being pulled and suddenly your lips are on his. All of Rolans resolve leaves as he grabs your hips and deepens the kiss to one of desperate hunger. Backing you up to the closeted ally he wraps his tail around your leg as his tongue pushes into your mouth finally tasting you. Breaking from the kiss to catch your breath Rolan accidentally lets a whimper slip from his throat. “You…kissed me, why?” You shrug, “I figured you wanted to considering how you kept staring at my lips.” Rolan groans, “You must find me pathetic…” you touch your hand to his cheek and kiss his lips again, “No, I think you're just passionate. Makes me want to be more like you.” Rolan felt the blush creeping to his ears, it was the best date.

Rolan worked so hard it was something you both admired about him but it also made you worried for him. He just worked so hard to provide for his family. You wish you could do something for him to help, but pulling him away from his desk is often an impossible task. He was in his study for what might have been hours now. Entering his study you saw him scribbling away, it wasn’t until you cleared your throat that he looked up. In your hands a tray of his favorite meal he had mentioned his adoptive mother making for him Cal and Lia as kids. He was a bit shocked you remembered him talking about the dish. Placing the tray down you cooed at him to take a break. And as he smelt the food he found that he was incredibly hungry. As he ate you undid his hair and scratched your nails on his scalp. Lending down you told him to join you for a bath and he of course couldn’t deny you.

He just couldn’t help himself anymore, watching you handle everything effortlessly, always acting so cool…he needed you, now… His buckle was gently knocking against the shelf, your head leaning back against him as his breathy whines rang in your ear. Hard thrust drives his cock deeper and deeper, the tip nudging against your sweet spot. Then he brings his tail in and your cool demeanor melts away and you're a moaning crying mess. Rolan brings his hand to cover your cries…His hot breath pants in the shell of your ear, “Keep it down…The customers will hear you…” Nothing makes him feel more confident than feeling you come undone…

Wyll

If Wyll had to pick anyone to follow blindly into a fight it would be you. You're smart and tactful, you keep a level head despite anything. Wyll sees you as the perfect definition of a leader and he would follow you to the hells if you needed it. Though if anyone asked you the same question you would answer that Wyll makes the better leader with his kind-hearted nature and determination. Despite you being quiet you find that with Wyll it doesn't matter, he can carry the conversion easily for the two of you and it wouldn’t even get awkward. You two just enjoy being around each other, you bring out the best in each other. With Wyll you are more gentle and he helps you see the world in a less harsh perspective. with him by your side you find yourself understanding and experiencing more emotions you didn't think you ever would. With you around Wyll finds fulfillment, if someone like you sees him as someone you want to be with maybe he is not as worthless as he once thought. You two are each other's perfect complement.

After a time of getting to know one another and being each other's closest confidants, Wyll knew it was time to take the relationship in a more serious direction. Wyll Imagined your first kiss would be underneath a canopy of stars. Alone so he could share all his feelings for you that he hoped you would reciprocate. Everything changed though when you took that arrow to your shoulder, mere inches away from your heart. Shadowheart had patched you up and now Wyll was here devotedly at your side listening to you chastise yourself for being careless and already planning a counterattack on the enemy camp. Reaching out carefully Wyll grabbed your hand to bring your attention to his gentle face. “Today I thought I would have lost you. In our adventures, I know there will be times when one of us will get hurt, maybe even killed. Please let me show you the depths of my affection before I am ever able to.” “How will-” “May I kiss you?” surprised you and gave a nod, with your permission Wyll gently dipped down to your still body and kissed your lips softly. His lips were as soft as you imagined they would be.

Wyll from the moment you meet him you always think of him as the most self-sacrificing and selfless person you have ever met. He would give the shirt off his back for a stranger if need be. But after watching him long enough you noticed how he carried heavy loads and pushed himself so thin, and when he thought no one was looking he would wince and rub his neck. He needs to be shown how to treat himself better. In his tent he was resting his sore muscles when you walked in, a bottle of fine-smelling oil in your hand. “What-” but you are quick to cut him off “You have been neglecting yourself, let me rub this into your skin. Halsin says it's good for healing, now shirt off.” his cheeks warm, that same matter-of-fact nature he adores. The rest of the night was spent gently massaging all the knots and aching pain from his muscles…and talks of your futures after this adventure. the plan? You two staying together…

Your skin was so hot against his lips, every sweet whisper from his lips made your once stone-like body shake. The party's leader, always so composed, until underneath him… “You look perfect, here…and here…” As Wyll mumbles his praises he kisses every one of your scars tenderly, worshiping you in a way you didn't know you needed. Words die in your throat as he goes lower and lower till his lips are wrapping around your sex and you feel his tongue licking against you sloppy…Is this what it's like being worshiped by another?

Astarion

When first meeting Astarion he was not so impressed by your cool and collected demeanor. Everyone at the camp had their quirks and then there was you, like a perfect impenetrable wall. Of course, He thought you had something to hide and was determined to get to the bottom of it. First getting through your walls was a challenge, he tried flirting and intimidation tactics but found that they didn’t make you stir in the slightest. (when in fact you know you would go to your tent after those conversions holding your hand to your chest like your heart was going to explode, but he didn’t need to know that.) It wasn’t until he stopped his facade and was more honest that you started to open up as well. Over time as he found out who you were and you found out more about him the two of you became fiercely protective of one another. Definitely a stranger to friends to lovers situation. In fact, on your first date you didn’t even realize it was a date till he told you. You were odd and not always easy to understand but for the first time in a long time he wanted to have real intimacy with someone and you wanted to let down your protective walls.

You had gotten to him today with your bluntness, of course, he played the whole thing off like he didn’t care but inside he did and it was eating away at him not knowing why. It's late, the time of night that no creatures stir, well only one kind of creature does…his kind. You're asleep on your bedroll by the fire as per usual. You always sleep next to its warmth, Astarion figures that's what you crave like most creatures, warmth; something his cold body could never provide to you. Astarion shakes the thought, why would he even think of holding you? He doesn't even like you. Your damned aloofness pisses him off to no end. But as he is about to leave your slumbering side, you reach out and touch him. Your heated skin warms his icicle-like fingers, he half expected you to wake and recoil, but you didn’t you seemed to be eased by it. Your plump lips parted slightly as you dream. Slowly leaning down he keeps his crimson eyes on your face, completely unaware of the danger you are in. This is where he bites your neck and drains you of your blood like the monster he is. But instead, he brings his cold lips to your warm ones and kisses you. After a moment he comes back to his senses and pulls away. As he looks down at you now there is just the slightest curl of a smile to your lips. Sweet dreams he supposes.

Astarion, usually so charismatic and open to say anything he wanted, had seemed to be rather reserved lately. Now you are usually one to never notice these changes in people but when it comes to Astarion you couldn’t help but notice those subtle shifts. It was late, but you knew he would be up, you went into the tent he had been reading and immediately started to put on his cocky dementor when he saw you but you just ignored it and sat next to him. “So why do I get the pleasure of such a late night visit darling?” looking through his short stack of books you pick one that seems the most interesting to you, open it then speak, “You have seemed off, so this is me being here for you. I understand if you don’t want to talk about it, and I will leave if you would like.” you turn to look into his eyes “but spending time with you always makes me feel better so I am trying to do that for you.” Astarion seemed shocked but the confession for a moment before he gave you that rare soft smile. The night was spent in silence with you reading and he laid his head in your lap. Your warmth was exactly what he needed, but he wasn't ready to confess that yet.

“Bite me…” Astarion looks down at you, your neck exposed and flushed, the slightest sheen of sweat causing you to glisten in the candlelight. He feels his gums itch above his fangs…he wants to feed from you…but would you think him a monster after? Insecurities and anxieties swirl in his mind. You two had just started getting intimate with one another…would this turn out to be too much for you, for him…Then a soft touch to his pale skin brings him back, “Star…Only if you're comfortable, but know I trust you. I just…I want to give you everything I can.” Your words are so calm, so confident in him, he loves it, feeling so safe with you. Leaning down slowly he Kisses your neck before sinking his teeth in. Your body tenses for a moment before you're lulling into the saccharine of pleasure. Breaking away he licks your running blood from your neck as he looks down at you. Please know…that he loves you, endlessly.

594 notes · View notes

charmedbystars · 10 months

Note

can u do a fanfic for e-42 miles based on Super Shy by Newjeans 🙏🏽 the song is like REALLYY CUTE AND I CANT STOP LISTENING TO IT 😣😣

e-42 miles x shy reader

summary: y/n's mind is constantly processing on how to not be awkward around miles.

content: no warnings!

a/n: both of these asks were similar so i just decided to make it into one! these requests r so sweet. thank u anon🥹🥹. also I AGREE SUPER SHY BY NEW JEANS IS SO ADDICTIVE AND THE CHOREO IS SO CUTE!!

sitting with your friends at lunch, you peeked over your shoulder to take a look at the cute boy standing with his friends. nobody knew how badly the girl wanted to make a move and claim him as hers, but there was no way of that happening.

you were fairly new to brooklyn and visions academy. you’ve been there for a couple months and settled in fine. on your first day of school, some girl approached you and invited you to sit with her and her friends at lunch. you weren’t the most outgoing person, so you were glad that someone reached out before you had to.

“so y/n, do you think anyone is cute at this school?” one of your friends, layla, asked you.

that snapped you from your thoughts, turning your head to look at your friends staring at you expectantly. you opened your mouth to say something before closing it again. you were way too scared for it to get out, not that you didn’t trust your friends, you just didn’t want anyone to overhear or constantly be teased by it. shaking your head ‘no’ your friends just went back to the conversation they were having.

you sighed, looking over your shoulder once more before going back to eating your lunch. the rest of lunch zoomed by and you went to your next class. you had biology with miles, being one of the two classes you had with him. you sat three rows behind him, most classes staring at the back of his head. he’s never turned around or noticed, you’re pretty sure he doesn’t even know you exist.

sitting in class, you just listened to the teacher explain the direction for a project she was assigning. it was a partner project that she would be assigning. hearing her call out names, your head snapped when you heard your name being followed by miles’ name. you couldn’t believe it. this was gonna be so bad because he made you nervous, you just imagine the whole thing being awkward. you starting shuffling the stuff on your desk, making space for miles who was walking over. he pulls up a chair and slides it across from you, the desk being in between you guys. you didn’t want to make eye-contact so you just played with your hands and bit your lips. miles raised a brow at your behavior thinking it was cute, while your thoughts were going crazy thinking you bombed your only opportunity.

“i’m miles morales, you’re y/n right?” he asked trying to break the silence. you nodded in response and he gave you a grin before continuing, “so for the project, i was thinking we do the botany and ecology unit since the molecular biology unit is really long and i don’t really wanna do the genetics part.”

you blessed miles in your mind, thanking him for starting the conversation easily. “uh, yeah i would be fine with that,” you responded. giving you a glanced, he responded “okay, cool” before turning to write in his notebook.

“i’m not doing anything after school so we could meet in the library, can’t go to my dorm since my roommate is a pretty loud gamer,” he said. you simply nodded. the bell rang signifying that class was over.

the school day passed and all you could think of is how you were gonna talk to miles after school without sounding stupid. now, you were naturally shy, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t have conversations or lots of friends. it was only miles who made you really nervous and you didn’t want to embarrass yourself in front of him or stumble over your friends.

walking over to the library, you had two paper cups in hand containing hot chocolate. you had wanted one and decided to get one for miles too (also maybe trying to win yourself some brownie points to make him like you a little bit). walking into the library, you look over, already seeing miles at a table with books spread out around him. walking up and stopping in front of him, you gave him a smile.

“i stopped by a cafe before coming here… i hope you like hot chocolate,” you said, trying to sound as calm as possible. miles looking up at you, gave you a grateful smile before grabbing the cup out of your hands.

“thanks, make yourself at home since we gotta work on this shih.”

you followed by sitting down and started taking your books and notebooks out. after being spread out, miles gave you a piece of scratch paper with a draft of what he kinda wants to do for the project. reading over it, you deemed everything good and nodded at him. you both discussed where to begin and he shared a powerpoint with you.

an hour passed and you start to feel more confident in your abilities to talk to miles. discussing work and occasional small talk has slightly taken away your nervousness of talking to the pretty boy.

“i feel like we should put more detail and description on the photosynthesis pa-” you began.

“can you say that again?”

“that we should put more detail on this part?”

“no, say photosynthesis.”

“photosynthesis?”

“the way you say that is cute, ma,” he grinned.

your head literally malfunctioned at that moment. there was no way the boy that you have been pining over for the past month just called you cute. you simply nodded, not knowing how to respond when miles kept on pushing.

“you know, i catch you staring at me a lot,” he smugly said, resting his chin on his hand.

“i don’t know- i mean, sorry?”

“nah, i think it’s cute. i think your cute in general.”

you felt your face flush and looked to the side, scratching your neck. “thanks miles,” you tried to sound appreciative, but accepting compliments was so hard and weird for you. you didn’t want to come off as stuck up, but also didn’t want to come off as ungrateful either. thankfully, your shyness didn’t back miles off.

“you wanna go out with me sometime? we could go to that cafe you went to earlier. whatever is comfortable for you.”

miles saying that immediately brought you out of your shell. “wait, really?” you asked with a shocked look on your face. miles leaned back in his seat, nodding, “of course, hermosa.” you nodded fast, a big smile on your face. who was going to say no to a date with miles morales?

you both forgot existence of the project in that moment and kept on talking.

extra!

the next day at lunch, you were sitting with your friends talking. miles walked by your table and you gave him a small wave, he waved back following a grin before continuing to catch up with his friends. your friends looked at you in shock.

“uhm mrs. super shy? wanna tell us what that was about?” your friend asked.

“give us all the deets. you just got the school’s pretty boy attention.” your other friend asked. you sighed knowing that even after you explain, the questions and hype from your friends will be never ending.

2K notes · View notes

diorchids · 3 months

Text

over the phone, coriolanus snow.

cw: masturbation, swearing, phone sex, peacekeeper coryo, & more

being a peacekeeper is hard, rigorous training, unfortunate housing, and not having anyone to help you cum.

coriolanus’ mates were off to a pub, leaving him alone in their dormitory. his fingers fidgeted with his uniform collar, not knowing what to do without the company.

you were at home because of your father. he had never liked coryo, his name leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. you tried to explain that coryo was a peacekeeper, that he would keep the district's population safe, that he wasn’t like that.

you were bored, running your fingers through your hair as you’ve basically been held prisoner. you needed coryo.

coryo was a determined peacekeeper, making sure he did well during training and exams, also making a direct impact on panem. so he got special privileges from the head peacekeeper. longer outside hours, better hygiene products, and a phone. the phone wasn’t that bad, either, just not completely up to date. it was just fine.

you’d written your number down for him the last time he’d seen your face. his thumb ran over your lips before kissing you one last time. “i’ll see you, right?” you asked him.

coryo quickly nods his head while he craned his neck downward to get a good look into your eyes, “yeah, yeah. of course.” reassuring you.

he called occasionally, checking in on you. asking about what you’ve eaten, if you needed anything, and just calling to hear your voice.

but tonight was different. he hasn’t been able to see you for some time, and he feels different. you aren’t ever really away from him for too long, being able to sneak in a quick moment before he was leaving again.

he couldn’t bear being away from you. his lips missing your neck and lips, hands missing your chest and hips. he needed something from you.

your phone rings from beside your bed, loud and startling. you don’t need to think twice before answering it, though. “hello? coryo?” you blurt out, needing to confirm he was there. that he needed you too.

“hey. missed you,” his voice sounds tired, voice all gravelly and hushed. he missed yours, though, fingers running over his crotch as soon as he heard it. “miss you, too. a lot.” your door creaking while it closes, can’t let your dad hear.

his hand creeps down into his boxers, fingers running over his tip when you tell him how much you missed him. “bet y’ look so pretty right now. what are you wearin’?” his voice growing low and harsh.

“pajamas, it’s late, y’know that.” your lips curling into a smile when he asks the question. “what pajamas? c’mon, tell me,” he pushes, “i just need a visual.” becoming needy. but you tell him, in great detail.

what you’re wearing under your shirt and shorts, what color your panties are, what color your bra is. he’s already pulling his pants off of him.

his cock sits up against his tummy when he pulls his boxers off, the cold air hitting his tip leaking with pre cum. “good, good. god, i miss you. the way you sucked my cock. need that badly.”

his teeth dig deeply into his lip when he runs his finger over his slit. “wanna hear you, need to hear you moanin’. go ahead.”

“want me to cum? yeah?” you’ve pulled off your panties by now, fingers running over your clothed clit. “mhm, touchin’ myself, keep talkin’, baby.” he coos into the phone, hips bucking up as he tries not to fist his cock viciously to the sound of your voice.

his tempted finger spreads his pre all over his cock, slowly grasping it before slowly jerking it. “you make me crazy, y’know that?”

he imagines your tight cunt squeezing his fat cock with every buck into his hand. you whimper into the phone to let him know you heard him, finger rubbing your slick clit.

your thighs slightly writhe when you prod your finger at your entrance, already slightly leaking from his words.

coryo is long gone, fisting his cock slowly to the sound of fingers moving in and out your wet cunt.

you let out animalistic moans when you curl your fingers so deeply into yourself. “fuck – feels so good.” your lips graze over the phone, tongue sliding along the roof of your mouth.

he can’t help but buck into his hand, all wet and sticky from his pre cum. “fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.” his hips slam into his palms, wet sounds engraved into your brain while he furiously jerks his cock.

he misses you and your cunt, your ability to squeeze him and take him oh so perfectly.

your moans and whimpers feel like music to his ears that can only egg him on while his legs shake under the abuse of his hand.

it’s silent. both of you combating the attainable, addictive high that comes along with fucking yourself to the point of no return. “‘m gonna cum, coryo.” the phone laying beside your head while you rub your swollen clit and thrust your fingers in and out of your cunt simultaneously.

“go ahead, be loud for me.” his eyebrows furrow at the thought of your cunt sucking your fingers in so well. your pussy throbs when you lie your finger on your clit. you have to cum to his voice, it’s like an obligation.

your stomach tightens when you practically dig deep into your cunt, walls squeezing your familiar fingers snugly. wet lips being bitten harshly when you thrust a few more times, cunt spasming around your fingers.

your stomach releases while your pussy convulses and your legs writhe. “made me c-cum, coryo.” you’re still shocked from the juices spilling from your bruised cunt.

your moans instinctively make his breath hitch while he bucks up into his fist one more time, groaning into the phones mic, “gonna – fuck – cummin’.” he groans one last time before thrusting in and out of his fist, hips stuttering pathetically.

his cock twitches after he runs his finger up over a vein, thinking of your warm, comforting lips wrapped around him.

cum coats his fist, legs shaking when he doesn’t stop moving his hand up and down. eyes rolling to the back of his head when he touches his sensitive slit. “sh – fuck.” he moans into the speaker.

his chest rises and falls as you pull your shorts back on and lie flat on your stomach, swinging your feet.

“made you cum over the phone,” you laughed.

“missed your cunt, i’ll see you tomorrow.” his labored breaths made him sound even more serious.

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus imagine #coriolanus snow smut #peacekeeper coriolanus snow #༊*·˚ dionna writes #coryo snow #coryo x reader

490 notes · View notes

roosterforme · 3 months

Text

Always Ever Only You Part 30 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley's excitement over the first set of ultrasound photos is unparalleled. He has never been so happy and so overwhelmed in his life, but at times he feels ill equipped to process everything that's happening. And the last thing he wants is to make you feel like he's growing tired of you.

Warnings: Swearing, smut, pregnancy topics, doctors, angst, fluff

Length: 6600 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

Bradley wanted to be able to explain it to you, but he wasn't really sure he could. Sitting in the waiting room with you and anticipating an ultrasound to see the baby was honestly more than he ever thought he could have. You were more than he ever thought he deserved, and you wanted him anyway. But a baby?

He barely had a baseline to build off of. His dad died when he was young enough that he only had a handful of fleeting memories. The sound of a laugh. Two big hands lifting him up when he fell. A lullaby sung softly as he drifted off to sleep. Besides the photos that you and he collected from his storage unit and the stories his mom recounted when he was younger, that's all he had.

But he could practically hear his mom telling him how excited Nick Bradshaw was to be a dad. Bradley could remember the joy in her voice whenever she told him about the way she would catch father and son goofing off together. She was adamant that Bradley cried almost nonstop the first day his dad was gone for a deployment. And now Bradley desperately wished he could remember these little details that made up their relationship. Because soon, god willing, he was going to be on the other side of things: the parent who loves goofing off and singing, but who also gets deployed and causes tears to fall.

It was all too overwhelming for him to put into words, but as he laced his fingers with yours, he knew he didn't have to figure out how to do everything all at once.

"Are you nervous?" you asked.

Bradley looked at your open expression and immediately felt better. Talking through things and sharing his thoughts was the best way to keep from driving himself crazy while also letting you know how important you were. "Excited," he replied, kissing your cheek and ear. "Just really fucking excited. I've been thinking... about starting a notebook. Kind of for the baby? Like how sometimes I like to write down what I'm thinking and feeling for myself."

He still felt silly at times for sharing the notebooks with you, but you nodded with a little smile on your lips. "I love your deployment notebooks. I love what you wrote about me."

He reached for you and kissed you without hesitation. "I think I want the baby to be able to read about how much I was looking forward to meeting them. When they're older, I mean. They can read about how I feel like my heart is going to pound out of my chest right now. And how I can't wait to hold them and give them a name. All about how much I love their mom."

Bradley let you bury your face against his neck. It didn't feel like you were hiding from him so much as giving him a taste of the kind of response he'd get if the two of you were alone. "I like that idea." You kissed the side of his neck and said, "I adore you, Roo. You'll be the best daddy."

Bradley almost laughed when you jolted in your seat after the nurse called your name. "Come on back, you two," she said with a smile. "Hopefully mom and dad can leave with some new family photos."

"Holy shit," Bradley replied, palms suddenly sweaty. Baby photos. He was on his feet in an instant, ready to go. And maybe this was what his dad felt like. Perhaps his parents didn't know what they were doing either, but rather they just counted themselves lucky to go along for the ride. He wished one of them had left him a notebook.

You were smiling up at him as he reached for your hand again, and your fingers felt sure and steady all wrapped up with his. "I'm excited, too," you whispered, answering your own question from earlier while he ran his thumb along your rings. "And maybe a little nervous."

"I'm right here," he promised as the two of you followed the nurse into a room filled with equipment. "I'm not going anywhere."

He kissed you and then begrudgingly let go of your hand when the nurse gave you a hospital gown to change into. As she left the room with the promise that your doctor would be in shortly, Bradley dragged his palms across his khaki covered thighs as he sat down and watched you change. Even though you were suffering from near constant nausea, he thought you looked incredible. Your face was glowing, and you kept looking at him with adoration in your eyes.

"Jesus," he grunted when you removed your bra. Was it possible that today he was the hornier one for once? "Sweetheart. Your tits," he whispered as he ran a hand over his face while you giggled. "Unreal." Then your underwear went sliding down your legs, and he reached down to help you out of them. "Hand me the gown," he told you as he folded your underwear across his knee.

You slipped into the gown when he held it open for you, and then you stood between his legs while he secured the ties and kissed you through the fabric. Your laughter filled the small room, and when the doctor walked in, she found you sitting on Bradley's lap while he ran his knuckles gently across your belly.

"I'm Dr. Morris," she said, shaking hands with you as you stood and then reaching for Bradley's. "I love it when partners show up for appointments, too. It's a lot more fun."

He watched Dr. Morris help you up onto the table, immediately missing your warm body next to his. "I plan on being here for every appointment unless I'm deployed." Your smile faltered a little bit at his words, so he added, "And even then, I'd steal a jet and fly in for a few hours. This is that important to me."

Your smile was restored and then some. Bradley scooted the chair a little closer when you reached for his hand as Dr. Morris started to ask you some questions and enter them into the software. "Do you recall when you last menstruated? I'd like to calculate a due date assuming we find a healthy fetus."

Once you told her the date of your last period, Bradley blurted out, "Why wouldn't it be healthy?"

Now he had two pairs of eyes on him as you squeezed his sweaty hand. "It's very early," Dr. Morris said. "Complications are more likely to occur in the first trimester than in the second or third. And your wife is just between seven and eight weeks along based on her cycle."

"Oh," Bradley said, swallowing hard. You'd tried to tell him all of this information before, letting him know it was too early to inform your parents or Nat or any of your other friends. But it felt somehow wrong coming from someone else. He didn't like this information when it was laid out before him in the exam room.

"It's okay, Roo," you told him, a sweet smile still on your face. So he nodded and watched your lips and the curve of your cheek as you answered a few more questions and asked about prenatal vitamins.

Then eventually Dr. Morris said the only words Bradley really wanted to hear right now. "Let's see what we can find with the ultrasound."

He was sitting on the edge of his seat, elbow leaning on the exam table as he gripped your hand for dear life. As excited as he'd been, now he was on the verge of being sick. What if he'd been too rough with you in bed? What if the football at the beach really did hit you in the wrong spot? What if all of the vomiting had been worse than either of you considered?

One thing was for certain. Bradley was going to love you no matter what, until his dying day. So he held onto your hand and kissed your knuckles as Dr. Morris squeezed lube onto a wand that looked a bit like one of the vibrators you had at home. "Is that for the ultrasound?" he asked, watching you spread your legs wider.

"Yes," the doctor replied, and a huge computer monitor lit up. "We need to get really up close at this stage to be able to see anything, so we're doing a transvaginal ultrasound today. The ones you're thinking of that use a paddle on the belly will come later."

"Right," he replied, and as soon as she slipped the wand inside you, he watched you purse your lips in slight discomfort. "You okay, Sweetheart?" he whispered, eyes glued to your face for any sign of pain. But your pinched expression melted away, and your lips parted softly as you sighed and stared at the computer monitor.

"Oh. Oh, Bradley! Look!"

When he turned toward the screen, he slowly stood as you pulled his hand closer to your body and held it with both of yours. Everything looked a little fuzzy at first, just some gray and black shapes. But then a cute little bean started to take shape as Dr. Morris adjusted the wand, and Bradley rasped, "Is that the baby?"

"Yes," she replied evenly, also watching the monitor. "And everything looks great."

Warmth spread through his entire body as Bradley huffed out a laugh while you giggled. He wasn't sure if his hand was shaking or if it was yours, but he leaned down and kissed your wrists before finding your lips with his. "That's our baby," he whispered, kissing you once more.

"It's adorable," you said, smiling nonstop. "Like a little bean, or a chicken nugget."

Bradley leaned on the table, keeping as close to you as he could. "I'm already so in love." He could feel tears in his eyes as Dr. Morris froze the screen. "Is it over?" he asked in a slight panic. In all honesty, he could happily spend the rest of the day right here with you and the baby, and he wasn't prepared to say goodbye yet.

"Just capturing some images," she reassured him. "Baby's first picture."

"Oh my god," Bradley groaned softly, and you ran your fingers through his hair as he ducked his head against your shoulder. "That's the first picture, Baby Girl."

"The baby looks just like you, Roo," you told him with a laugh, and he kissed you until the doctor cleared her throat.

"Let's see what we can find if we zoom in a little more."

With rapt attention once again, Bradley stared at the screen. It looked like the baby was bouncing around a bit, wiggling to an unknown song. "Is that movement good?" he asked. "And what's that little flickering spot?"

"Very good," she replied. "And the flickering is the heartbeat."

"The heartbeat?" That was inexplicably what threw him over the edge as a tear managed to squeeze its way down his cheek when he blinked. "Holy shit."

He just let his head rest against your chest and basked in the feel of your fingers in his hair as you whispered, "I love you." Bradley had no idea if you were talking to him or the baby. Or maybe both. Or maybe you loved Dr. Morris, because in this moment he certainly did as she snapped more photos. Maybe you loved everything right now just like he did.

"I love you, too."

--------------------------

Bradley was falling apart as you ran your fingertips along his scarred cheek. Or perhaps he was completely keeping it together. You weren't really sure. He had some tears in his eyes even though he was smiling, and the two of you were holding onto each other.

"Do you want to listen to the heartbeat as well?" Dr. Morris asked, and the two of you responded at the same time.

"Yes!"

She laughed and adjusted the ultrasound wand inside you which was actually extremely uncomfortable, but you were starting to think Bradley would cry harder when she removed it. And then you heard it. Dr. Morris adjusted something on the control panel, and set a device on your belly, and you could hear the heartbeat.

"Why is it so fast?" Bradley asked, squeezing your hand. "That's like really fast."

Now your heartbeat was picking up, but Dr. Morris said, "One hundred and fifty two beats per minute. That's perfectly where it should be."

"Oh, okay," Bradley sighed, eyes transfixed on the monitor. "That's good then. That's a strong Bradshaw heartbeat right there. Can you take another picture? The nugget looks really cute like that."

You laughed and reached for him when she eventually shut off the equipment and removed the wand. At Bradley's request, she printed out enough copies of each image that you'd be able to give them to your parents, all of your friends and even Bradley's cousin Brenda in Virginia.

"This seems like overkill," you whispered as the printer just kept going and going.

"It's not," he promised. "I need all of them to wallpaper my locker and fill my helmet bag. Just a bunch of pictures of you and now the baby, too."

"We'll get more ultrasound photos at the next appointment. And the next one after that," you reminded him.

"Good. We'll have enough to wallpaper at home, too." Eased himself back down into the chair as you sat up a little bit while Dr. Morris cleaned up her workstation.

"When is the due date?" you asked suddenly.

"March 24th," she replied, and you and Bradley shared a smile. "Do either of you have any other questions for me?" she asked as she handed a massive stack of ultrasound photos to your husband who looked like he just won the lottery.

"When can we find out if it's a girl or a boy?" he asked, looking through the images with a crooked little grin on his face.

"In the second trimester," she assured him. "You'll make a special appointment for an anatomy scan."

You cleared your throat and said, "So... I've been really quite... I'm sure it's the hormones and everything, but I've been extremely aroused for the past few weeks." Bradley gave you a wide eyed look as you asked, "Basically, I want my husband around the clock right now, and I want to know if that's normal?"

He let out a strangled choking sound, and his cheeks started to flush pink as Dr. Morris said, "That's totally normal. Have at it."

You pressed your lips together before you quickly asked, "And rough is okay? Like pretty rough."

"Yep," she replied, completely unfazed by your words as Bradley looked like he wanted to run out of the room with his stack of baby pictures. "Anything else?"

A smile crept to your lips, one that Bradley would have probably found alarming if he were looking anywhere else except the door at the moment. "Actually, yes. I do have one more question for you, Dr. Morris. Based on the size of the baby and the date of my last period, can you tell me when you think the baby was conceived?"

"Sure," she replied, turning the monitor back on and scrolling through all of the information in your electronic file.

"You did not just ask her that," Bradley whispered, his voice deep with annoyance and maybe a little bit of desire as you grinned at him and bit your lip.

"I would say you probably conceived right around June 27th."

You squealed with delight as Bradley groaned. "Thank you so much, Dr. Morris. We'll see you again in a few weeks."

When she left the room, you hopped off the table and started to untie your gown, pausing to pump your fist in the air while Bradley held his forehead in his hand. "Okay, okay. You win," he whined as he laughed. "You win."

"I told you the baby was conceived in the Honda!"

---------------------------

Later that night, Bradley kept reminding himself that Dr. Morris said rough sex was okay. That seemed to be the only way you wanted it as you got on all fours on the bed and said, "Fuck me hard, Daddy." And Bradley was never going to be one to deny his wife anything she asked for.

Beads of sweat were rolling down his face, occasionally dripping onto your back as he leaned over you. He was panting next to your ear as he went as hard as he could, fucking you until your knees buckled and he had to hold you up. "You know, I used to have a wife who liked it sweet sometimes. I wonder what happened to her?"

"You knocked her up," you gasped as he rubbed your clit with his fingers.

Fuck, he was getting close, and your words were not helping in the least. "Come on, Baby Girl. Come for Daddy."

A few more swipes of his fingers and a little more dirty talk, and you were coming. Holy hell, you were coming hard, which was a good thing, because Bradley needed a break. You released an unholy moan as your legs gave out again, and this time, he let you sink down to the bed as he grabbed his cock in time to come all over your ass and your back.

"Roo," you gasped as he painted you up, and you met his eyes over your shoulder. "That's so fucking hot!"

"I'm glad you think so," he grunted before he sprawled out on the bed next to you on his back. "I got nothing left in the tank, Sweetheart. Do not ask me for more tonight."

You crawled over to kiss his sweaty face and whispered, "You did so good," as you patted his abs adoringly. "You're already the world's best Daddy." Then you leaned down and cleaned his cum from the head of his cock with your tongue, and Bradley moaned as you climbed out of bed. "I'm going to shower and get ready for bed."

He raised his hand in a wave or surrender, he wasn't quite sure which. Forty-five minutes of nailing you until you screamed his name was the most intense workout he'd had in weeks. He needed to hit his home gym in the garage a little harder. Maybe he could invite Jake over to lift weights with him, and then he could sneak away and take a nap while you and Jake had one of your gossip sessions. That actually sounded pretty great.

Bradley managed to get out of bed long enough to let Tramp out and brush his teeth. By that point, you were getting out of the shower and drying yourself off, humming and sighing softly.

"I know what you're trying to do," he said with his toothbrush hanging out of his mouth. "And it's not gonna work."

You looked at him with one eyebrow raised as you ran the towel across your chest. "I'm sorry. What exactly am I trying to do that's not going to work?"

He spit out his toothpaste and rinsed his mouth, sending a glare at you in the mirror. "Look at your fucking tits, Sweetheart. Now you're just flaunting them."

"I'm literally just standing here."

He shook his head and kissed your forehead as he walked past. "You know what you did."

When you slipped in bed next to him, he pulled you close while you laughed softly. You were wearing nothing except for his old UVA shirt, and when you curled up next to him, he pushed you gently onto your back. Then he yanked the shirt up and shimmied under the covers so his lips were next to your tummy.

He kissed up and down your side before laying with his cheek on your hip and one hand on your belly. "Listen kid, I don't know what you're doing in there, but I need you to chill, okay? Someday soon, you'll get to see how pretty and perfect your mommy is. Yes, I think about her all day long. Yes, I love her, but I can only take so much. Your old man is an old man."

You lifted up the covers, and Bradley felt your fingers in his hair. "No, you're not."

He kissed the spot just below your belly button before returning to his pillow. "I'll be close to thirty-eight when this little nugget arrives."

"That's not old."

When you curled up on him this time, he collected you in his arms. If you were surprised by his words, you didn't let on. "My dad died when he was twenty-nine. My mom died when she was forty-two. You're a bit younger than me, not that I mind. But my age is something I think about a lot. I'm older than all my friends. I like to be prepared for things before I jump into them. I like to feel out my surroundings. Except when it comes to you, apparently."

You snuggled in a little closer, voice soft as you asked, "What do you mean?"

Bradley kissed your fingers before lacing them with his in the dark bedroom. "I was all in with you as soon as you looked at me. Zero hesitation. No turning back."

You buried your face in his chest and moaned. "You can't just talk about me like that. It makes me insane for you," came your muffled voice, and Bradley laughed.

"I guess I never had any hesitation about us having kids either. And I'm just saying... it's nice to have time to think about the baby before the baby actually gets here. But I'm also in my head a lot right now about my parents and how much more flying I've got left in me and how I don't actually know how the fuck to take care of a baby."

"Bradley!" Your voice was scolding as you propped yourself up on him. "We're a team. And I wouldn't lie to you. You're not old, and I'm pretty sure nobody actually knows how to take care of a baby until they have one in front of them. Then you just kind of do it, I guess. The fact that you are so excited about this pregnancy is at least half of what's turning me on so much. You will be the best dad imaginable, because you love me so well, and I don't doubt you have more of that to give."

He was exhausted, and your words settled over him like something he could physically feel. "I really am so excited. Today felt like a dream. I just want to cover the whole house in the ultrasound photos, and I can't wait to get another smaller paper airplane tattoo."

He felt your fingers trace his tattoo in the darkness. You knew exactly where it was without guidance just like he knew exactly where yours was. "You'll get it right here? With the baby's name on it?"

"Yeah," he whispered, starting to feel like he was going to doze off.

"I have a question," you said, and he squeezed your hand softly. "Earlier you asked when we can find out if it's a boy or a girl."

He smiled at the hesitation in your voice. "What's your question?"

Bradley could feel your heartbeat against his body, and he thought about how he had been able to see and hear what the baby was doing just a few hours ago. The beautiful sound of that rapid heartbeat that belonged to his child.

"Do you care? If it's a boy or a girl?"

"No," he answered honestly. "Not one bit. I just care that it's ours."

"Me too. I'm happy either way." Your words sounded soft and dreamy, and he believed them.

"I love you both. Now let the old man sleep."

--------------------------

The rest of the week felt like a bit of a reality check. You tried taking the prenatal vitamins from Dr. Morris, but you threw them back up almost instantly every single time. "Just skip them," Bradley said on Friday morning as you threw up in the toilet when you were trying to get dressed for work.

"I can't," you practically wailed. "They are supposed to keep me healthy so I can keep the baby healthy." You looked up at him from where you were sitting on the floor.

He sighed and checked the time. "Why don't you just stay home today? You're looking pretty green, and it's Friday anyway. Text Bickel."

Anger flared inside you. He was standing there looking nice and tidy in his khakis while you were on the floor turning yours into a wrinkly mess. And the reason for that was the fact that you had to deal with all of this shit. He just got to enjoy your libido while being excited about the baby. You really didn't want to start resenting him right now when you were leaving for Maryland soon.

"I can't just skip work on a whim like what I'm doing isn't important," you snapped. "I'm trying to get my presentation ready for Annapolis, in case you forgot you offered to help me with that."

He was on his knees in an instant with your chin in his hand. "Hey, that's not what I meant. I just don't want you overexerting yourself, especially since your work is important and you'll be traveling soon."

You still felt bitchy, even though he made you peanut butter crackers and took Tramp for a walk while you stayed curled up in bed for an extra twenty minutes. "That's right. I'll be gone for a week. I'm sure you're looking forward to having a break from the near constant sex."

You used the vanity to pull yourself to your feet while your stomach lurched, even though he was holding his hand out to help you. "Look at me," he demanded without touching you at all. You didn't want to, but you shifted your gaze to his face as he stood too. "If you really think that's true, then we have a serious problem. I'm going to assume that you feel the need to take your nausea out on me, and that's fine. I don't really mind. That's what I'm here for. But do not accuse me of ever wanting to be separated from you."

You pressed your lips together and just nodded as he leaned down to kiss your cheek. You didn't want to be away from him either, but you felt another wave of sickness rolling through your body.

"I need to go, Sweetheart. I'll stop and get you some of those ginger pills on my way home. Maybe they'll help. I love you."

After he left, you threw up again and fought the urge to throw the bottle of prenatal vitamins across the bathroom. Even now you were horny enough that you considered climbing back in bed with your vibrator to take the edge off, but you knew nothing would be as good as the real thing. And you'd have to apologize to Bradley before you could have that, and it would undoubtedly make you cry when you did.

When you finally made your way back out to the kitchen, you found more peanut butter crackers arranged on a plate in the shape of a heart with one of the ultrasound photos next to it. Tears welled up in your eyes, and you tried to call your husband, but it went to voicemail. You listened to his raspy voice before ending the call and texting him instead.

I'm sorry. If you want Marry Me Rooster for dinner, pick up some chicken along with the ginger pills.

After you tucked the ultrasound picture in the new Bronco, you spent your whole morning sitting quietly with Cat, the two of you going over each presentation slide with a fine tooth comb. "Is that calculation correct?" she asked, pulling out a calculator.

"It fucking better be. I did it myself. Months ago."

She looked at you with wide eyes. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," you lied, anxious that Bradley hadn't responded to your text. Two days ago, you were having the absolute time of your life with Dr. Morris, and now you wanted to scream. "Can we just finish this?" you said through gritted teeth as Cat checked your math which was obviously done correctly.

"That's what we're working on," she said smoothly, using her mom voice on you and making your nerves prickle. "Finishing the slides so we can spend next week practicing and getting our notes in order for all of these meetings and cocktail receptions."

The last thing you wanted to do right now was pretend you were drinking alcohol while trying not to vomit. Nothing about this trip to Annapolis seemed appealing. And you didn't want to have to try to hide your pregnancy from your parents if you drove to see them one night.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Cat asked, and you had to steel your spine as you nodded.

"I'm perfect." There was no point in making her mad at you when the two of you would be in close quarters for several days, so you rolled your shoulders and got back to work.

-----------------------------

Asking Jake if he wanted to workout actually wasn't the best idea Bradley had come up with recently. It would be nice to have someone to spot for him at the weight bench, but if you were making his favorite dinner, he'd rather spend the time with you.

"Fuck," he groaned as Jake followed him to the grocery store on his way home. Apparently he needed protein powder and didn't mind that Bradley had to stop for chicken. Of course now he had to try to discreetly grab the ginger pills that you wanted to try for your nausea.

It ended up being easier than he thought since Jake took fifteen minutes to decide which flavor of protein powder he wanted. He was still looking at them when Bradley went back to that aisle. "Are you almost done?"

Jake shot him a nasty look from where he was squatting at the bottom shelf. "Listen, it would go faster if I didn't get hit on constantly when I'm wearing my uniform."

Bradley rolled his eyes so hard, he was afraid he'd get a migraine. "Keep it in your fucking pants. I'll meet you at my house."

Jake grabbed a container and followed him to the registers. When they passed a hot sauce display, he grabbed one and handed it to Bradley. "Get this for Angel, and maybe you'll get laid. Sounds like you need it."

"It's literally the last thing I need," he mumbled, but paid for it anyway along with the ginger and the chicken. When Bradley slid his credit card back in his wallet, he saw the corner of the ultrasound image he had tucked in there last night. He unfolded it and took a peek as Jake paid for his powder. You were everything. And the baby was everything. And he should have been a little more patient with you this morning.

"You coming?" Jake asked, and Bradley shoved the nugget photo back inside his wallet before slipping it into his pocket.

You were already home, and Bradley parked the blue Bronco next to the red one. Jake came careening into the driveway, stopping about two inches from the back of the new Bronco. "Show her a little respect, okay?"

Jake snorted as he climbed out. "You literally fucked the other car to bits. I didn't do shit."

Bradley groaned as he walked inside with Jake on his heels. The first thing he saw was you in the kitchen, feeding Tramp a treat. You had on some skin tight yoga pants and a little shirt without a bra, and you turned to him and said, "Can we talk?" He opened his mouth to tell you that you could have any damn thing you wanted, and then you said, "Hi, Jake," with a look of surprise on your face. "I didn't know you were coming over."

"Hey, Angel," Jake crooned, walking into the kitchen and pulling you in for a tight hug. Shit, Bradley forgot to text you and let you know he wasn't going to be alone. "Didn't see you at lunch today."

"I worked through lunch," you replied, your eyes on Bradley. "Are you staying for dinner?"

"Nah, just going to lift weights out in the garage with Rooster for a bit. I'll be out of your hair after that."

"You can stay if you want," you told him, but he was already heading toward the hallway bathroom with his gym bag. "Why didn't you tell me he was coming over?" you whispered. "I'm not even wearing underwear, and you left one of the ultrasound photos on the fridge."

Bradley quickly pulled it down and stuck it in the freezer on his way to get to you. "I'm sorry. I meant to text you, but then I got in the Bronco and forgot." Tears welled up in your eyes; he should be used to this by now, but he was not. "If you're horny, I'll take care of you as soon as Jake leaves."

You scoffed at him. "It's not that. I don't just want that. I wanted to talk. You're not just a gigantic, walking dick to me."

Jake cleared his throat, and you and Bradley both turned to see him standing there in his gym clothes. "I'll meet you out in the garage," he said with a smirk. "Take your time."

"I'll just be a minute," Bradley called over his shoulder, but you'd already started to open the chicken he set on the counter. "Do you want to talk now?"

"No." Great. You were giving him one word answers now.

"Would you like me to get changed and get out of your hair?"

"Yes."

---------------------------

As soon as Bradley walked through the sliding glass door and headed for the garage, you broke out in tears. What the fuck was your problem? You didn't mind if Jake was here or if he stayed for dinner. You didn't want to completely discourage Bradley from hanging up the nugget photo. You just couldn't control your emotions, and you had zero patience today. And you couldn't stop running to the bathroom to pee.

You decided to fill up some travel mugs with water and take them out to the guys to smooth things over. Tramp ran around in the grass as you walked across the yard, and you could already hear the two of them talking over their playlist as you approached the doorway.

"Is Angel's ass bigger now?" Jake asked, pointing to the dirty calendar that Bradley hung on the wall and strategically covered part of with a post-it note.

Your husband shook his head. "Stop staring at my calendar," he replied as he added weight to one side of the bar. "And stop talking about my wife's ass."

"She's in a feisty mood today. You probably didn't even need that hot sauce to get laid, old man." Based on Jake's response, you were pretty sure neither of them had seen you in the doorway yet as you stood there awkwardly.

Bradley's brow creased. "She's been a real handful, actually."

Jake hooted with laughter. "In the bedroom? Never mind, I don't want to know."

It took Bradley a few seconds to respond. "Can we talk about anything else other than my wife? Please? Literally any other topic would be great."

You turned on your heel and carried the waters back toward the house as soon as you heard Jake say, "Speaking of asses, you know who has a great one..."

They were out there for a full hour. You made what turned out to be perhaps the most incredible looking batch of Marry Me Rooster of your life while you stewed. Even your husband was already sick of you. Soon you'd gain so much pregnancy weight, your ass would probably be enormous. He'd probably have to close his eyes just to have sex with you.

You froze as you were putting the chicken onto a plate. What if he couldn't stand the sight of you with a belly at all? All stretched out and weird? Bradley had probably glorified it in his mind, but you knew it wasn't going to be all that appealing when you were nine months along in the middle of March with stretch marks galore. You were already bloated enough that Jake noticed.

You were turning and looking down at your body when they both came walking back inside, out of breath. "Smells good in here. Are these for us?" Bradley asked, pointing at the waters on the island.

"Yes," you whispered, afraid to meet his eyes. As soon as you heard his voice, you were horny again, but you didn't want to keep forcing him to have sex with you just because you couldn't help yourself.

Jake kissed you on the cheek, and when you told him he was welcome to stay for dinner, he said, "I'll take a raincheck. See you for golf on Sunday, Rooster," and headed out to his car.

"Do you think you can eat dinner?" Bradley asked you softly. When you turned away from him and nodded, he said, "You didn't have to wait for me if you were hungry. Do you want me to shower first?"

You burst into tears once again. "I don't know if I'm hungry. I don't ever know. Sometimes I just grow up. And I can't stop fucking crying! And I don't want you to be so sick of me that you'd rather talk about literally anything else with Jake, including someone else's ass."

"Whoa, whoa," he said quietly, spinning you around again. "I don't want to talk about anything else besides you, Sweetheart."

You shook your head and covered your eyes with your hands. "I tried to bring the waters outside. I heard you."

When you were pulled snug against his sweaty shirt, you felt slightly better. "Baby Girl. I was not about to get into a conversation with Jake about how I can barely keep up with you in bed. In order to keep my pride intact, I would at least want him to know you're pregnant if I'm admitting that you're wearing me out." He kissed the top of your head over and over.

"It feels like you're getting sick of me," you sobbed softly. "And you brought me hot sauce even though I can't eat it right now, and that made me so sad."

"I couldn't be less sick of you if I tried. I just needed to keep Jake off my back rather than let slip that you're pregnant, so I got the hot sauce. And it's completely my fault I forgot to tell you he was coming over, but I had a lot on my mind today."

"Like what?" you asked, inhaling how delicious he smelled even compared to the dinner you made.

"Like possible baby names and the look and feel of your pussy when I fuck you. Do you need me right now? Because I'm ready to go when you want me."

"So badly," you squeaked. "I'm sorry, Roo."

"Don't ever apologize again for wanting to have sex with me. I will be the one to apologize if I don't last as long as you need me to."

You nodded against him. "Well then I'll apologize for having a bad attitude."

"Do you need me to fuck the attitude out of you?"

"Yes, sir."

-------------------------------

Imagine how excited he'll be holding that baby in his beefy arms. Just stay calm, sweet Roo. The hormones won't last forever. Up next, we're going to Annapolis. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 31

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@chassy21

@solacestyles

@daisyhollyxox

@wintercap89

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@chaoticassidy

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@shanimallina87

@little-wiseone

@ccbb2222

@xoxabs88xox

@thedroneranger

@cherrycola27

@fanboyswhore9

@xomrsalliej4787xo

@desert-fern

@sylviebell

@wkndwlff

@horseslovers2016

@gennyanydots

@mattyskies

@hookslove1592

@blahehblah

@sadpetalsstuff

@local-spidey

@schoollover

@lex-winchester

@magicalmorg

@nicole01-23

@jessicab1991

@happyrebelruins

@samsgoddess

@ughthisisntright

@bellaireland1981

@sagittarius-flowerchild

@mygyn

532 notes · View notes

thisismeracing · 5 months

Note

okay but a request for a new face around the paddock and Lando having a huge crush and gets some assistance to ask her out 😔

Hi, love!! <3 Since you didn't specify if it was a smau, a blurb, or a full imagine, I decided to go with a blurb, 'key? I hope you like it!! *mwah*

New girl | LN4

― Pairing: Lando Norris x reader (sher/her) ― Warnings: mentions of alcohol, getting stuck on the roof, and typos; ― my masterlist | my taglist | patreon guide ― check some exclusive pieces here ― you can support my writing by reblogging, leaving a comment (don’t forget to follow me if you like the piece), or buying me a coffee

Someone was playing early 2000s remixes, the sound escaping to the roof where Yn was sitting, nursing a half-full red cup. She was a bit tired. It was her first week attending a race, and things were more hectic than anticipated, though Charles told her it was crazy when you weren't used to the pace.

Still, she was looking for the next Sunday. The next plane ride, the next country to explore.

"Oh- hey," Lando waved after opening the door and finding her sitting in one of the small couches. His face read surprise with a tinge of confusion, but, in reality, he knew she would be there. Carlos told him as much. His friend actually encouraged him to go after her. Lando was infatuated the second he saw her, and when he discovered she was Charles' friend he was quick to ask Carlos for help, which coming to think about now wasn't the best idea.

Maybe he should have asked Charles instead. He probably knew her better. She was the new girl for Carlos too, having just met her the same day Lando did. Or just tried to get to her without any help, but then again, she was so beautiful and so cool, he felt like the whole paddock stopped the first day Yn showed up, though rationally he knew things kept going as usual. He was the distracted one.

"Hi," she waved back, a small smile gracing her lips before she took the cup to her lips sipping whatever drink she was nursing.

"Can I- huh- Can I stay here too?"

Yn nodded, "It's a bit packed in there, huh?" she asked before patting the spot beside her. "Carlos told me I could get some air here instead of in front of the house, the air is flowing good there, but there's still too much noise- and drunk people," she ranted, and Lando thought it was cute the way she would explain things he hasn't even asked yet.

"I'm Lando," the British extended his hand to her, and they shook it right before she said her name as if wasn't etched on his mind, and he sat beside her.

"I know," there's a hint of amusement in her voice. "There's only twenty of you, and you happen to be really close to my friend's teammate."

He chuckled, taking a pull from his beer, and sensing someone behind him. When Lando turned he saw Carlos and Charles at the door, and before he could stop them both, the noise of the door closing echoed around.

"Shit."

"Was it the door?" Yn asked, getting up.

"I think the wind closed it," he tried to keep it cool, even though he was finally understanding why Carlos had asked to borrow his phone.

"Can you call one of the guys to open it up?" she asked, and then added, "For when we want to get back...I'm fine for now."

He smiled, and then his face twisted in a grimace, "I forgot my phone with the guys."

"Mine doesn't have any signal here," she stated, but didn't seem too worried.

"Do they know you're here?"

Yn nodded, "You?"

"Carlos will probably come looking for me any minute now," he tried to convince himself, taking another pull from his beer.

They sat in silence for a beat, the wind making their cheeks cold and the noises of the party muffled by the distance, until Yn started talking about racing, Lando following the train, catching the ride and the opportunity to talk with her and not embarrass himself trying to figure a good topic.

"How do you keep up with all the traveling?"

He chuckles, "Sometimes you don't."

"Oh-"

"Yeah, it can be tiring for the drivers as well, but we just...get used to it I guess. Most of us- all of us, have been driving since we were kids."

"mmhhh, so a bunch of outlaws?"

"What?"

"Driving when it wasn't even legal yet," and she answered with a straight face, no hint of amusement, so much Lando thought she was talking serious, and when he opened his mouth to explain, a nervous look crossed his features, Yn started laughing.

"That was a terrible joke, but you fell for it so..."

"Horrible," he shook his head with a small smile, tipping his bottle upon his mouth. "How about you? How are you keeping up? Are you coming for the next race?"

"I'm exhausted. But I'm also excited about the next stop. I'm definitely joining. I'm just getting my maps ready because Ferrari has a bunch of media stuff this next week and Charles won't be able to be a huge company in exploring...not that he was a big one this last week, but, yeah."

"I can go with you...that is if you want, I can keep you company, I know the next stop pretty well, I used to go there on vacation with my family during my teenage years," Lando shoots his shot, half expecting her to let him down gently, but Yn gifts him with a bright big smile.

"Would you?"

"Yeah, totally."

"Perfect then," she crossed her legs sitting more comfortably on the couch, neck resting on the headrest, while she watched the dark sky above them. "Now, tell me about your side gig- Carlos told me you're into DJ stuff?"

Lando crossed his legs too, his shoulders aligned with hers, staring at the sky as well. He turned his head to the side, and she was already looking at him. He bit his lips to keep the infatuated smile from showing and started telling her about the things he liked to do besides racing. Yn shared with him as well. She told how she and Charles had met, how she loved music, and though she was into sports, she didn't practice any. She told him about her family, studies, and job. And Lando listened to everything attentively, feeling his silly little crush grow with each giggle and look she shared.

A couple hours later, when Carlos and Charles went to check, Yn had her head on Lando's shoulder, both were sound asleep on the couch. The Ferrari duo snapped a picture, and a high five for playing cupid to what would eventually become one of the paddock's favorite couples.

#ln4 #lando norris #requests #millies inbox #anon #f1 x reader #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #formula one imagine #f1 x you #formula one fanfic #lando norris fluff #millie writes #op: blurbs #formula one x you #formula one x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic

639 notes · View notes

percheduphere · 6 months

Text

I don't think Mobius is happy in his timeline. Don, as we find him, is different from Mobius.

He's less confident.

He's more desperate.

He's less responsible.

He's more lonely.

Owen's delivery of "Are you really my friend?" Didn't sound skeptical to me. It sounded more like longing.

I originally thought his wife died, but upon second review, the delivery of "long gone" was rather flippant. If it was a divorce, however, it seems like it wasn't an amicable parting. It rather leans toward a marriage that struggled to work.

I still stand by the notion Mobius isn't making enough money. Yet, the kids stayed with him. That, to me, suggests the wife cheated and left to be with her lover. To prevent disruption in his kids' lives (changing schools, leaving behind friends, etc.), I think Mobius argued for primary custody.

Again, he needs the money. He brings up his wife, but it's not her he misses.

He misses the sense of adventure, the fun, the companionship. Someone to share a drink with, someone to share a meal or something sweet with.

Even in his timeline, he doesn't actually get to ride a jetski. The most he can get is fantasizing about it.

While Loki sacfricing himself to ensure his friends are safe, to ensure Mobius's kids are safe, to ensure MOBIUS is safe, feels like a forgone conclusion, I don't think this feels like a proper ending for Mobius.

I think Loki will survive, and I hope he and Mobius will find a way to make it work since Loki explained to him he can take Mobius back to any point in time. Meaning, he could have Loki in his life without abandoning his kids.

But where will Loki go? Even if OB and Casey want to stay full-time at the TVA (I honestly don't see either of them wanting their timeline lives), it doesn't feel right for Loki.

This house looks like it can fit one more person.

I don't care that I know I'm about to get hurt, but the narrative set-up is all there, and it's driving me crazy. There's an indisputable basis for a romantic relationship, there's Loki's powers enabling a timeline life and a TVA life to work, and there's a fucking HOUSE that can fit one more person that we know would be welcome there.

Adding to all of this is that Mobius shows up in Deadpool 3.

This is driving me absolutely bananas. The happy ending is there. It's mechanically feasible. But it's Disney, so what the hell ending is it going to be???

#lokius #loki #mobius #loki season 2 #loki spoilers #loki speculation #loki meta

534 notes · View notes

jihyoruri · 6 months

Text

PAPARAZZI — idol!hanni pham x idol!reader

warnings: yn is a member of lesserafim and a small fire cracker(for the plot), hanni is down bad, swearing, fluff

hanni wouldn’t say she was an anti romantic, she was just someone who didn’t have crushes, no one impressed her. no one could find their way into her heart no matter how hard they tried and to say hanni was happy about that would be an understatement.

she didn’t like the feeling of having a crush, even though she’s never had one from what she heard it sounds like it sucked, a person having your heart in the palm of their hands seem scary, so she sworn to never let anyone have a hold on her like that.

that was until she first saw yn, she thought was acquainted with every member of Lesserafim and to be frank she never really payed much attention to her label mates but you got her attention.

hanni remembered it like it was yesterday and it was and fall both lesserafim and new jeans were pretty new groups.

the words of danielle came deaf to ears when she saw the girl that got her attention.

you were walking beside eunchae who she recognized immediately but who was this girl? eunchae whispered something to her which had the girl pushing her back harshly and cursing at her.

hanni furrowed her eyebrows at that, because it seemed like the altercation didn’t affect eunchae at all like it was a normal thing.

hanni’s gaze follows the girl as she walks ahead towards the front to order,eunchae who follows behind her laughing.

“are you listening?” hanni snapped out of her daze and turned to danielle, “huh?”

“so you weren’t listening.” dani concludes before letting out a deep sigh, “what are you looking at?”

“nothing.” hanni responds quickly, shaking her head but danielle is already looking in the direction that hanni was looking in, “oh! eunchae and yn! you want me to call them over?”

yn?

“eunchae, yn!” danielle exclaims, hanni tenses when both girls turn their heads in their direction, drinks already in their hands.

danielle waves them over and hanni watches as eunchae and who she now knows is yn walk over to her direction. “I don’t know if you know yn yet, she’s a new addition to the group.” danielle says to hanni when she notices hanni’s gaze set on you, “but beware she’s a little fire cracker.”

that explains earlier hanni thought to herself.

“hey guys.” eunchae smiles as her and yn stood in front of the girls, the shorter girl beside her just waving.

danielle starts a conversation with eunchae and all hanni can do is look at yn, the girl had her straw in her mouth and her face shoved in her phone.

“what are you guys doing?” danielle asks.

“we’re just on break from practice, we’ve been practicing like crazy for our comeback.” eunchae says as a big smile makes its way to her gaze, “it’s called anti fragile because we’re fearless.” the girl jokes.

hanni looks down and danielle laughs out of pity at the corny joke but yn looks up from her phone and side eyes her member, “you’re a dumbass.” she says bluntly before looking back down at her phone.

hanni’s head shot up immediately at the sound of the girls voice and the mean thing that just came out of her mouth but eunchae only laughs and wraps an arm around the shorter girl’s shoulder, “you’re so mean to me.” she whines.

hanni watch’s as yn surprisingly doesn’t move out of eunchae’s hold and just looks back down at her phone unbothered, she looks at danielle who looks at yn and the at her, “hanni, you’ve never met yn yet,right?”

hanni shakes head, her heart speeds up when yn finally looks at her, “I’m yn.”

hanni stares for a while and you furrow your eyebrows at her, “uh, I’m hanni.”

from that day on hanni had an infatuation with yn, the girl just had a way of drawing her in without even knowing it.

everything yn did had hanni falling to her knees, she watched yn’s fancams, her fansites, she’d even sigh lovingly when she’d see yn rage during hangouts or at the hybe cafe, she was your biggest fan.

hanni’s never had a crush before and didn’t know much when it came to love but one thing she did know was that yn was gonna be hers.

⬎

“hey, fire cracker.” hanni says greeting the girl that lays on the practice room floor before cringing at herself, this crush stuff is getting to her.

she sits beside yn who’s eyes are still closed and that’s when hanni realized that she was sleeping.

she took the time to admire the girl, shes gotta be the most prettiest girl hanni has ever seen, she’s wearing her normal baggy clothes.

hanni’s eyes trail down to your arm and sees a small tattoo of calcifer on the inner part of yn’s wrist and for some reason it brings a smile to her face, you act hard but on the inside you’re such a cutie.

she watches you shift and slowly open your eyes, “hanni?”

she laughs awkwardly, “hey…”

you sit up and lean on your elbows, “watching me sleep? what are you edward?”

hanni rolls her eyes at your teasing but is jumping up and down in her head, “you shouldn’t be sleeping on the floor.”

“I was practicing and I got tired, award season is coming up.” yn says rubbing her eyes tiredly as she stretches.

a smile comes upon hanni’s face, “oh yeah, I’m excited.”

“it’s stupid.” yn says as she finishes stretching from her nap, “and dumb and annoying-”

“your tattoo is cute.” hanni says cutting off yn’s potential rant, “it’s calcifer right?”

“yeah..” yn trails off looking at it, “since everyone loves calling me a fire cracker I thought it would be fitting.” she says tracing over it, “I also love ghibli, if you didn’t know.”

oh hanni knew, she knew how much yn loved ghibli studios which is a complete contrast from how the girl presents herself.

“I think everyone in the industry knows.” she teases, “ghibli is cool though.”

“it is, binging ghibli movies would be the best date.” yn says picking at her nails, “that’s probably like the most intimate thing you can do.”

before hanni can even think about it, it’s already coming out of her mouth, “wanna binge ghibli movies with me?”

yn pauses and looks up from her nails at the australian girl, “very smooth pham.”

hanni feels like she can’t breathe as she curses herself in her mind why would she say that? she’s not cut out for this crush stuff.

“vey smooth I’ll give you that.”yn starts as she gets up from the floor, “but try a little harder and that ghibli binge will be yours.” she says before grabbing her bag and walking towards the door.

“is that a yes?” hanni asks rushingly and she stands up from the floor, her heart was going at rate that didn’t even know that it could go.

“it’s not a no.” the shorter girl says behind herself as she walks out the rooms and closes the door.

hanni stares at the door for while before bringing her hand to her face a smile making its way onto it, yn really is gonna be hers.

#new jeans x reader #new jeans fluff #hanni newjeans #hanni pham #hanni x reader #hanni pham x reader #girl group imagines #girl group fluff #Lesserafim

858 notes · View notes

stevethehairington · 2 years

Text

Accidental Kiss Goodbye Part 1

Part 2:

Steve isn't so sure how he makes the rest of the drive to Family Video without crashing. It's all kind of a blur, how he manages to operate a whole entire vehicle in the state he's in once it hits him. Because after it does, his brain is just one big broken record of IkissedEddieMunsonIkissedEddieMunsonIkissedEddieMunson — absolutely no regard for speed limits and traffic lights and other cars.

He enters the store with his eyes glazed over and a faraway look on his face. Robin, of course, clocks it immediately, and she's worried for all of thirty seconds before Steve just blurts it out:

"I kissed Eddie."

Robin raises an eyebrow, the rest of her slowly relaxing when she realizes it isn't actually anything life or death (even though it certainly feels that way to Steve). "That's good, right?" She asks. "You've been crazy about him for months, Steve. It's actually kind of painful how head over heels you are."

Steve scoffs and ignores the dig, but he fixes his wide eyes on her. "It's not good, Rob," he grouses. "I didn't mean to."

Robin scrunches up her face. "Huh? What do you mean you didn't mean to?"

"I mean it was an accident," Steve tells her.

"An accident?" Robin repeats, amused. "Like — like you accidentally tripped and caught yourself with his mouth?" She laughs. "I don't—"

"No," Steve hisses. "An accident like I wasn't thinking and I just did it." And then Steve explains it to her, tells her exactly what happened this morning. How Eddie had grabbed him, how Steve had gotten so caught up in the moment, how he hadn't even hesitated, just leaned right in for a kiss like it was something they did every day.

When he finishes, Robin is quiet for a moment. Two. Three. Then she laughs. Hard. Like, doubled over, clutching her stomach, wiping tears from her eyes hard.

Steve smacks the back of his hand into her shoulder and whines her name. "Robin, be serious! I'm freaking out here," he says.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Robin says, swallowing down the rest of her laughter and schooling her face into something more sedate as she gathers her wits. "Look, Steve," she starts, grabbing his arm, just above his elbow. "I really don't think there's anything for you to worry about. It'll be fine. You just need to talk to him."

Steve frowns. "I don't even know what to say to him."

Robin narrow her eyes at him. "You could always, mm, I don't know, try telling him how you feel," she suggests gently. Tilts her head and smiles a little playfully. "I mean, accidentally kissing him goodbye is a pretty good excuse to finally get around to it. Y'know, since you've been putting it off for so long." She shrugs. Grins.

Steve huffs out. He knows she's right. She usually is. "Okay, but how do I even do that?" He asks.

Robin sighs softly and shrugs again. "You're asking the wrong person for that," she says. "I'm hopeless. You know that. But you're not." She knocks her shoulder into his, snatches up one of the tapes from the counter and gives it a little shake. "And you've got the next eight hours to figure it out."

It's going to be a long shift.

The second Steve's shift — his long, tortuous shift — is over, he's out the door. Hurries straight to his car and drives right back to Eddie's place.

He parks, kills the engine, then just sits there. Staring at the door of Eddie's trailer. Psyching himself up.

When he finally gets out and walks the short distance across the dirt and climbs those few front stairs, he stops on the doorstep. Hesitates again. His stomach feels like it's twisted itself into knots, but he pushes past that and knocks before he can talk himself out of it.

It feels like years before the door finally swings open. And there's Eddie.

"Steve," Eddie says, and he sounds surprised to see him.

"Eddie, hey. Uh, can I— can I come in?"

Eddie just nods and steps aside so Steve can shuffle past him.

They sit on the couch together, side by side. It's a little awkward, a little stilted, the slip up from this morning clearly at the forefront of both of their minds. Neither one of them seems to want to be the first to acknowledge it.

But the silence is unnerving, and it grates on Steve enough that he finally just blurts out, "I kissed you."

Eddie snorts, but instead of making some brassy comment like he usually would, he just parrots back, "you kissed me."

It gives him nothing, is the thing. Eddie has been very stoic, since letting Steve in. His face, usually so open, so expressive, has been carefully blank. Not giving anything away. Like maybe he's just as nervous about how this conversation is going to go.

It's a bit unsettling. Steve has no idea where Eddie's head is at. So, he figures it best to start with an apology.

"Sorry," Steve tells him, and that must surprise Eddie, because his head jerks up, eyes flickering over to Steve. The skin between his eyebrows pulls together briefly before smoothing back out, but Steve catches it. He sees it.

Eddie chews on his lip. Studies Steve from his sideways glance. Then very slowly, very quietly says, "you don't have to be."

"Oh?" Steve says.

Eddie shrugs, shifts a little so his shoulders are squared with Steve's a little more. "I just mean... I didn't— mind it."

"Oh," Steve breathes.

"You could... you could probably even do it again," Eddie says, blinks over at Steve through his eyelashes. "If you wanted."

"Oh."

Eddie laughs then, soft and fluttery from the leftover nerves of his confession. "Jeez, Harrington," he starts, "is that all you know how to—"

He doesn't get to finish that thought, though. Because Steve cuts him off with a hand to his jaw, curling beneath his chin, drawing him in, and then he's kissing him again. Properly, this time. Not some fleeting, accidental thing, but a firm, purposeful one.

Eddie sinks into it, and Steve kisses him the way he's always wanted to — slow, sweet, deep enough to curl his toes.

When they break apart, Eddie's eyes stay closed, but his mouth chases Steve's, body swaying after his. He's breathing a little heavy, and Steve has to bite back a grin. He did that.

Eddie blinks open his eyes, big and wide and dazed. "Oh," he says, and Steve laughs.

The apples of Eddie's cheeks are rosy, and they're close enough that Steve can see the feint freckles that dot the bridge of his nose. They pop against the pretty pink of his blush.

Eddie shoves at Steve's shoulder, huffing out a laugh of his own. He doesn't let Steve go far, though, holding onto his arm.

"Jesus," Eddie says, laughing again, this giddy little thing, and he wipes a hand over his face, tries to hide his smile behind it.

Steve grabs his hand, pulls it back down so he can see it. He loves the way it lights Eddie's face up.

"That was nothing like this morning," Eddie says.

Steve shrugs. "Wasn't really thinking this morning," he replies. "I just, y'know, did." He thumbs over the side of Eddie's hand, likes how their palms feel pressed together. "I guess I got so caught up in the moment that I just — didn't hold back. I just let myself do what I've wanted to do for a really long time."

The corners of Eddie's mouth twitch and his dimples come out to play as he tries to stop himself from grinning even bigger. It doesn't work, and Steve doesn't keep himself from brushing his thumb against one of them.

"Y'know," Eddie says, catching Steve's wrist. "it's kind of dangerous, what you did this morning."

Steve raises an eyebrow. "Is it?"

Eddie nods. "Oh yeah, real dangerous. 'Cause I could really get used to that," he tells Steve. "Making you breakfast. Fixing your tie. Kissing you every morning on your way to work."

Steve's heart skips a beat in his chest as he pictures it — waking up tangled in the sheets with Eddie. Sharing toast and coffee and sleepy smiles over the table, playing footsie under it. Almost making himself late because Eddie keeps pulling at the clothes Steve's only just put on, trying to get him to take them off again. Hurrying out the door, but not before he stops to give Eddie a kiss goodbye. A kiss see you later. "A regular little housewife, now, aren't you?" Steve teases, chuckling.

Something sparkles in Eddie's eyes, and he leans in close. "Darlin' if you kiss me like that every time, I'll be anything for you."

Isn't that a promise?

And what better way to seal that promise than with a kiss?

So Steve does.

#steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #mack writes #macks ficlets

3K notes · View notes

strawberrystepmom · 7 months

Text

pairing: werewolf!kakashi hatake x f!reader

word count: 5.2k

about: your boyfriend leaves you alone for one week every month and you can never seem to put your finger on why. convinced he’s cheating, you book a romantic getaway to pin him down and figure him out. while preparing to leave, you instead discover the hairy secret he has been keeping from you all this time.

contents: nsfw - mdni. cw knotting, cw mating, cw breeding kink. miscommunication with resolution, established relationship, piv sex, vaginal fingering, reader has breasts and is referred to as pretty and mate multiple times, reader has pubic hair, few mentions of birth control (reader is on it but method is not specified), sloppy and messy sex (saliva is mentioned but there is no specific instance of spitting)

notes: part of thot-o-ween 2023! ngl i had the most fun writing this one out of the whole group this far and i hope that it shows and you enjoy reading it! thanks for the support the last four weeks and i'm so glad we are getting into the thick of the good stuff now. ♡

“Don’t be ridiculous, he absolutely adores you.”

Despite the consistent reassurance of your best friend, you aren’t certain that your boyfriend Kakashi does adore you.

It’s not that he isn’t wonderful because he is. Supportive, serious without being a bore, and surprisingly humble - these are all things it takes no effort for you to feel and say about him. Despite this, you can’t shake the nagging distrust you’ve felt since he told you he’s going on his once a month week long business trip. Unfortunately, this time it coincides with a romantic getaway you tried to book for the two of you as a surprise. Despite days of trying to convince yourself that it’s nothing and you have nothing to worry about with his cyclical departures, you have a really bad feeling.

“I can’t explain it but my intuition is going crazy. It feels like he’s lying to me.”

Your mind has played through all of the reasonable possibilities for his departure and is now filtering through the unreasonable ones. The “he has a family he’s hiding from me” paranoia pings between your ears like a racing pinball and your friend can tell, her face set in a displeased frown. She has been placating you for the past five months, politely shoving you in the direction of speaking your mind to the man, but she knows you’re uncomfortable with the idea.

She reaches across the small table the two of you sit at, dotted with discarded napkins and cups full of rapidly melting ice, and grabs your hands between hers. You appreciate the gesture and squeeze her fingers with your thumbs, smiling softly.

“You already know my advice because I’ve given it freely. What you do next is completely up to you.”

Nodding, you know she’s right. She has told you to confront him, to snoop, to follow him and these all sound like wonderful ways to handle the issue in theory. In practice, though? That’s a different story.

Dropping her hands and picking your phone up from the table, you sigh and open the little green bubble that is the messages app. Kakashi’s thread is at the top of your list and you open it, smiling looking at his sweet wishes of a good evening with your friend.

Hope you’re having fun. See you soon. 😊

“I booked that cabin before he told me he was leaving, do you think I should still tell him about it?”

Your friend nods firmly, sticking to her earlier advice.

“Yes, you should have told him as soon as you planned the getaway but maybe he can arrange something with work if he knows. It’s still a week out.”

Sighing, you nod in agreement and tap out a message in response to your boyfriend, worrying your lower lip between your teeth.

I know this is kind of off the cuff and you already told me you’re going to be gone but I booked a cabin for all of next week for the two of us. If you can’t make it, I understand. Romantic surprises are so hard sometimes!

The message whooshes and shows as sent, the blue text bubble sitting as heavy as the anxiety in your stomach. It’s long winded and something you probably should have said in person rather than via text but considering how nauseous you already feel anticipating his answer, you think this may have been for the best. You lock your phone and place it back down, not wanting to stare at the screen any longer, and the waitress comes to drop off your check.

Just as you reach for the little black tray with your receipt, your phone pings and your eyebrows raise. You smile at the waitress as you slide your card onto the tray and send her off, picking up your phone as soon as it’s not rude to do so.

You are so thoughtful. Don’t worry about not saying something sooner, I will see what I can figure out. Thank you for doing something so sweet.

Maybe your mind really has been playing tricks on you. It’s hard to hide your grin as you pass the phone across the table and your friend smiles as she reads as well, holding her hands out and tilting her head.

“See? Good communication is key.”

You know she’s right.

Across town, though, Kakashi paces the floor of his bedroom wondering how the fuck he is going to make this work.

How he ended up landing someone like you is still beyond his rational understanding. You are too good to be true and booking a surprise romantic getaway, in any other situation, would be a gift. A luxury, even. Time spent with you, secluded, watching the autumn leaves fall? He couldn’t dream of anything more but next week simply does not work for him.

Pressing the screen of his phone wildly, he swipes through apps until he finds his moon phase tracker, popping open the calendar to see when exactly the full moon falls. He’ll get more details from you later but if you booked it from Monday to Sunday, he may be able to pull off leaving early but staying for most of the time. The full moon falls on Friday and realistically if he spent the week with you up until Thursday, he may be able to pull it off.

Sighing, he slumps down on the edge of his bed and scrubs his hand over his face. The luck he has had over the last few months hiding his secret from you has been nothing short of fortuitous and he’s glad for your trust in him even though it eats him up to lie about his whereabouts for a week every single month.

Putting you at risk is the last thing the man would ever want to do so he’s already taking a huge chance trying to make this week work knowing that his hormones are stronger in certain months rather than others. He has felt overcome by his instincts this entire month, it’s the reason he has buried himself in busy work rather than spending his free time with you, but he knows that if he hangs you out to dry this week it could result in him losing you.

That’s simply not an option he’s willing to entertain so he will figure it out despite how it makes his gut twist and his mind race.

Swiping off of the moon cycle app, he opens his messages and the cursor blinks at him tauntingly while he considers what to say.

I can come along Monday through Thursday if that’s alright with you?

Tapping the little blue arrow that sends the message off to you, he feels a weight on his shoulders that he can’t quite name. It’s sadness because he knows eventually he’ll have to tell you the truth about himself or let you go but selfishly, he wants to put it off for as long as he possibly can.

Something about you makes him believe that those old stories his dad told him growing up about their kind having fated mates may have been true. His mother was his father’s mate, she knew of his secret and kept it until the day she died, and despite this harsh world, Kakashi has always kept the smallest kindling of hope that it could be true.

Then he met you and his body all but told him it was, the ruts coming more consistently and stronger, lasting for longer than they ever have. What started as one day a month he had to hide away to keep from exposing himself became two days, and then three, and then an entire week having to seclude himself from you to keep from giving into his more base urges.

Another sigh leaves the man and he taps his feet against the floor beneath them impatiently, clutching his phone in his palm. Three pings in succession make him lift it to his face, squinting slightly thanks to the brightness of the screen, but he smiles reading your words.

Omg yay!!!

I’m glad to get you for even that long

Thank you for making it work for me

It’ll be a risk but he’s willing to take it to see your pretty smile and to spend time cozied up reading and watching your silly shows and enjoying each other.

It’ll all be worth it as long as he can keep control.

The days leading up to the trip pass uneventfully for you but Kakashi feels differently with each hour that passes, especially today.

He’s hot. Cloyingly and overwhelmingly, to the point he has to lay on his couch in nothing but boxers and an old tank top dug out of the back of his dresser drawer to try and cool down. Sweat glistens across his skin and his very bones ache, all of the blood in his body running to his cock and making it impossible for him to think.

When you arrive at his apartment to spend the night in order to make leaving in the morning simpler, you’re shocked to see him lying on the couch with one hand down his boxers halfheartedly playing with his hard cock with one arm thrown over his eyes. His cheeks are pink and he’s panting, only glancing up briefly when the door opens and shuts. He scrambles to sit up but you can tell he’s struggling, his abs tensing with every breath he takes.

“Oh babe, are you alright?”

Dropping your bags at the front door, you rush to his side and kneel on the ground next to where he is strewn across the sofa. You press the back of your hand to his clammy cheek and coo, your other hand tangling in his unruly hair and combing it away from his forehead. He doesn’t uncover his eyes but his breathing is so heavy you worry something is seriously wrong with him.

“Kakashi, what’s wrong? Are you sick? Do you need to go to urgent care?”

He shakes his head and groans, chest still heaving and you notice the tip of his cock peeking above the waistband of his boxers. It looks the same as you remember it in every way except for the color - so red, as if it’s blushing to be spotted and leaking a pool of sticky pre-cum onto the barely exposed skin his tank top isn’t covering. You know the two of you have been too busy the last several days to spend much quality time together and sex hasn’t been possible but you’ve never seen someone so horny they’re actually ill because all current signs point to that being the exact issue.

“Talk to me. What’s going on?”

Embarrassment keeps him from opening up. Kakashi is ashamed of who he is, a beast more than a man, and he’s even more ashamed that he has no way of keeping the secret from you any longer. This rut is too strong and he needs you to leave lest his instincts take over his logic. Pulling his arm from over his eyes, he tries to sit up and you assist him to the best of your ability, his cock throbbing through the thin fabric of his boxers and catching your eye despite your attempts to focus on his handsome face. His stormcloud colored eyes have never looked more tumultuous than they do right now and you reach out to cup his face, only for him to gently grasp your wrist and pull you away.

“Don’t touch me.”

The look on your face, brows pinched and mouth agape, reminds him that he’s a monster and not a man and he should have never brought you into his life. The only thing he can do is hurt you. His grip on your wrist is gentle and he loosens it further but you capture his hand in your own, eyes brimming with tears of frustration.

“Please tell me what’s happening,” your voice cracks as you speak and you feel warm tears spill down your face, irritated by your own ability to hold it together, but your worst fears are coming true in front of you. Something is off about your boyfriend, you were right, and now he’s denying your touch when he clearly needs it. “I just want to know the truth.”

The truth would be a heavy burden for both of you and the last thing he wants to do is force you to carry it with him despite the pleading look in your eyes and your quivering bottom lip.

“What are you hiding from me?”

Your voice cracks again and his heart breaks all over, gray eyes trained on your face despite his disgust with himself. Despite the tears and the way they blur your vision, you scan his face and drink in every feature because despite how you feel right now, you love this man. You were hoping to tell him so this week, tucked away in the idyllic countryside, and now you feel the dream slipping away from you.

“Are you married? Do you have another life?”

Desperation for the truth makes your hands shake and he shakes his head, blowing a breath out of his lips. He continues to feel so hot it’s painful, like he’s burning alive, and he is resisting inhaling and choosing to breathe through his mouth instead to keep from catching your scent that is gradually replacing all of the fresh air in the apartment.

Allowing you to hold his hand, he sits forward and looks you in the eyes. If his gut feeling is real, if what he believes about you is true, then he needs to be honest. If you are his mate then you’ll understand. His voice shakes when he speaks and you scoot forward on your knees, closing the distance between your bodies as much as possible, still kneeling on the floor next to him.

“I think I should be offended that you’d even think that about me.”

Despite yourself, you laugh and he hides a smile of his own, eyes darting away from you. He pulls you up to your feet and scoots over on the couch, hissing as you occupy his space even further. You are affecting him more strongly than you ever have and his self control thins with every moment that passes.

“I’m sorry, I just don’t know what else to think. The weeks away, the secrecy, all of it…my mind has filled in the blanks I don’t understand.”

Kakashi nods. He understands, he truly does, knowing that his behavior has been less than exemplary while he has tried to keep his secret from you, but he wants to right his wrong while his mind is still clear. His cock throbs angrily, still pressing against the bottom of his stomach even while he sits, and he knows it’s now or never.

“This is going to sound ridiculous but I’m not what you think I am.”

Tilting your head to the side, you look over your handsome boyfriend and wonder what he could mean. Is he lying about his job or where he’s from? He can tell you aren’t following so he looks away from you and tries again, spitting out the words he himself has tried to run from his entire life.

“I’m only half a man, the other half of me is something else entirely.”

Again, you look lost and he grasps your hands in his own hot ones and chuckles, letting his eyes shut.

“Werewolf. I’m a werewolf.”

He opens his eyes at the sound of your surprised laughter and he’s met with the smile he has found himself falling more in love with every single day, your nose scrunching the way he finds utterly adorable.

“Kakashi…” you start but he squeezes your hands and shoots you a look so earnest you feel guilty for ever questioning him. His cheeks have turned from pink to flaming red, the same color as the engorged tip that is still peeking out over the top of his boxers. Your jaw drops and he groans, eyes falling to your lips.

“What is happening right now is called a rut and unbonded men like me go through them occasionally.” You nod, understandingly. You are always unfailingly kind and patient to him, more so than he deserves for lying to you all these months. He takes your silence as permission to keep speaking and you remove your hand from his to push his sweat slicked hair off of his forehead, noticing the way his nostrils flare with your touch. “Mine have been happening more frequently than that, though, because of you.”

He expects to have lost you again and to see confusion on your face when his eyes flit up to look at you but instead he sees a sweet, almost nervous, half smile. You don’t know what he means or how you could possibly be affecting his rut but the insinuation that you have this strong of an impact on him is flattering to say the least.

Arousing too, you think while pressing your thighs together. Your focus shifts from the heat in your own core to Kakashi and you lean your head on his shoulder.

“How can I help you through this?”

Your boyfriend is far from shocked that this is your next question for him but he’s grateful, shaking his head and gazing at you nervously from the corner of his eye. You have been surprisingly okay with everything so far, or at least it seems like it, but he worries how you’ll react if he tells you everything.

“Well, ruts are usually resolved by…well, for lack of a better word, mating.” Nodding, you keep your cheek pressed to his shoulder. “It’s not just, you know, having sex like we usually do. It’s more than that.”

You shift where you sit and he watches you intently, gasping when you move to straddle him and sit on top of his thighs. His bulge presses against your core and you hum, still combing your fingers through his hair. Those instincts he was dreading continue to work at him, his mind all but overwhelmed with the sight and scent of you, and his mouth fills with saliva.

“I can handle a few days of fucking if that’s what will make you feel better,” you smile and press a kiss to his forehead, his hands finding their way to your hips and holding them tightly. His grip is harsher than he has ever touched you but it doesn’t hurt, it’s simply anchoring you in place. “But if that’s not all, I will do anything you need.”

He chuckles lowly, the sound sexy and ringing in your ears, and you instinctively grind down on his lap to relieve the tension of your own arousal. It doesn’t take much to turn you on, not when it comes to him, but the mystery of what you have to look forward to makes your head swim.

“I, uh…well, I’d need to knot you.”

Your eyebrows raise and your eyes glisten with mischief watching him search for the right thing to say.

“What does that entail?”

Again he sighs, cock throbbing painfully, and you press your lips to his forehead again. He holds you in place to keep your hips from grinding or bumping against him. His mind is growing fuzzier with each passing second and he doesn’t need the encouragement of your luscious hips to turn him into something he can’t explain away with a conversation. He’s teetering on the edge of it anyway.

“You’re familiar with my dick, of course, but when I’m rutting it’s different. It’s…” He trails off again and you reach down between your bodies, snapping the elastic waistband of his boxers. You smirk, the little temptress that you are, and he groans in defeat.

“Show me.”

Despite his brain telling him not to, he nods, happy to bend to your whims as long as you’re okay with what you see. He shifts where he sits, keeping you anchored to his lap with one hand and he uses the other to pull his boxers down around his thighs. You gasp when you notice the thickened base, larger than you’ve ever seen it and swollen.

“This is your knot?”

He nods, eyes fixed on your face as you inspect the newest part of his anatomy, to you anyway, and he’s relieved to see nothing but curiosity on your face. Your hand drifts back between your bodies and you squeeze the base of him, his knot almost too large for your hand to wrap around, and his hips buck into the touch. He pants, chest heaving with each breath, but you keep your grip intact.

“So let me make sure I have this right,” you start and he nods to indicate that he’s listening despite the overwhelming pleasure he’s feeling at your touch, lower lip tucked between his teeth. “You need to knot your mate to get through this and feel better?”

He nods again, happy that he doesn’t have to explain the gory details and that you were able to fill in the blanks on your own.

“Do you know who your mate is? Is it someone I need to go find for you?”

Shaking his head, his brows furrow.

“You are my mate. That’s the only explanation why my body is reacting like this to everything about you.”

His voice sounds strained, struggling to hold onto his humanity with each passing second. You mercifully let go of his knot, the relief on his face disappearing when you do, and you lean forward, just inches from his lips.

“Then fuck your mate and feel better, baby.”

Sealing your offer by pressing your lips against his, you’re shocked to find that they’re as hot as his hands, his body, his cheeks, but they feel like home to you and the sloppy sound of your tongues running against one another in open mouthed kisses fill your ears. His grip on your hip tightens and he does his best to remain gentle as he slides you off of his lap and places you on your back on the sofa below you. He pauses for a moment to glance over your face, to be absolutely certain that you still want this, and you smile at him.

Reaching for the button of your jeans, he helps you slide them off and tosses them across the room, your panties coming off with them and the rest of your clothes in short order. He wants to shred them, to see the pieces fall and flutter away from your beautiful body, but he holds himself back.

This is just the beginning of his rut, after all, and the two of you are bound to have a very interesting week ahead of you so he savors this moment, the first that he can be who he really is in front of someone he loves.

It’s freeing and terrifying but his cock is throbbing so painfully he can’t focus on anything else.

“Tell me if I’m hurting you, okay?”

You nod when he slots himself between your spread legs, his boxers and tank top gone. Your cunt pulses at the sight of him, walls clenching almost painfully around nothing as you look at the size of his knot and wonder how you’re meant to fit it inside of you, but he quiets your wandering mind by leaning down and pressing his chest to yours, kissing you sloppily.

“God I love you,” he mutters and you hum in agreement.

His mouth is wetter than it ever has been, a side effect of his current state, and saliva drips down both of your chins and drips into the valley between your breasts. You moan into his mouth and your hips cant and grind against his erection that slips into the cleft between your pussy lips and he feels himself slipping further and further into the basest of his needs, the warm slick seeping from your cunt a nectar he can no longer resist.

Kakashi’s fingers slide down your body, dragging through the pool of saliva between your breasts, down your torso, across your belly button, and finally down to your aching pussy. He makes himself useful quickly, one of his long digits replacing his cock and running through your soaked folds. You whine, hips bucking, and he increases the pressure of his finger as he slides it over your slippery clit.

“My pretty little mate is so eager for me, huh?”

Nodding dumbly, you spread your legs further hoping he’ll take the hint to get moving to where you need him the most. Your eyes dart from his face to where his finger slowly slides inside of you, warmth accommodating the digit with ease thanks to how soaked you are, and sweet relief washes over you. Tipping your head back, you softly moan beneath him while he works you open for him - he’ll need all the help he can get if you’re going to take his knot, and a second finger joins the first while his thumb massages your clit just the way you like.

“Oh baby, you feel so good.”

You nod and hum, hips grinding into every thrust of his fingers in and out of you, the sound of your own sloppy pussy making your breaths stutter. Who would have guessed you’d be so into finding out your boyfriend’s not so little secret?

His fingers continue to spread you open, shifting and grinding against the spot deep inside he knows drives you wild, and you know you’re about to cum for the first time tonight when his thumb grinds small circles directly into your sensitive clit. Your back arches off of the couch and you clench around his fingers, mumbling his name. His lips find yours, chests still pressed together, and you whimper into his mouth while your legs shake.

Withdrawing his fingers from inside of you, he holds them up and spreads them apart, breaking away from your lips long enough to let you look at the slick that webs between them when he does. You gasp, his fingers glistening with your arousal, and he smirks.

“Think you’re wet enough for me now. Gonna stuff you full of me, is that what you want?”

Nodding, you shiver, catching a glimpse of the hunger in his eyes. He’s the same man you love and have known for all this time but there’s a hunger you can’t wait to sate dancing in his eyes. Your cunt clenches again, finally ready for more after your orgasm, and he reaches between your bodies to position himself at your entrance.

The first inch isn’t anything you aren’t used to but you still gasp as he slides himself inside of you, your nails digging into his shoulder while his blunt head prods at your eager cunt, slipping inside with ease. He sinks deeper and deeper and you gasp breathlessly when he stops just short of the inflamed knot at the base of his cock.

“Can’t go all the way in, not yet,” he explains, grinding his hips and guiding them to make sure the head of his cock brushes against the same spot his fingers were just working. You are breathless, wordless, and completely overwhelmed, deciding to let him have his way with you however he needs. His hands travel the expanse of your waist, settling on either side of it, thumbs brushing the underside of each of your breasts that bounce slightly with each movement he makes.

He isn’t satisfied keeping his hands at your waist, though, and one travels back down your stomach and rests in the hair covering your mound. He loves the feeling of the hair between his fingers and he stretches his hand so that his thumb brushes against your clit, maintaining steady pressure on the bud while he grinds and thrusts in and out of you.

“Baby,” you coo from beneath him and he smirks, leaning forward enough to fold your legs up against your sides. Your thighs are pressed against your torso and your knees rest by your ears, the shift in position making you groan, shocked at how deep he is despite the whole of him not even being inside of you. “Need it all, Kakashi, please.”

How can he deny you when you ask so sweetly and he’s so close to cumming himself?

Shifting his own position so that he is practically mounting you, the front of his thighs pressed to the backs of yours. It feels like you can hardly breathe with how he has you folded but you don’t mind, succumbing to the mind numbing pleasure of the additional inches of him slowly sinking inside of you.

“Tell me if it hurts, okay?”

You nod, licking your lips, and he continues to push what remains of his cock inside of you. His hips grind and shift and you do your best to lift your own to meet him but he stills you with the hand spread over your pelvis, pressing directly on your clit while you stretch to accommodate his knot that slowly slips inside of you.

The stretch is delicious and your lashes flutter against your cheek, eyes rolling back into your skull. He thrusts shallowly, not wanting to release his knot from your warmth, but he gives in quickly and withdraws his knot. You gasp at the loss of the fullness but he’s quick to rectify his wrong, slipping his knot back into you in a quick motion that leaves you breathless.

“Full,” you spit out with a nod and he chuckles, dipping his head to kiss you again.

“Not as full as I’d like you to be but soon.”

You giggle and kiss him back, his grunts and pants against your lips making you whimper. He’s so sexy and you’re so full of him, your head spinning when his grunts increase in a way you know means that he’s close. His cock spasms inside of you and his thumb doubles down on its ceaseless pace on your clit, his knot swelling as he groans and fills you with his release. His knot remains swollen and keeps his cock in place, the warmth of his spend filling your pussy.

Reaching for his face, you grab both of his cheeks and kiss him, his thumb still rubbing idle circles on your clit until your hips jerk and the sensation becomes too much.

“I love you,” you return his earlier sentiment with a smile against his mouth. He smiles and kisses you back, the two of you afraid to part and technically unable with his engorged knot still inside of you.

“We have to stay like this for a little while,” he explains and you nod, eyes glossy and body limp. “Instincts say I have to make it take even if we both know it won’t.”

Smiling, you keep your grip on his face and kiss him again.

“Do you feel better?”

He nods, sighing contentedly.

“For now but we have a long week ahead of us and the full moon is on Friday.”

Dots connect in your head and you giggle, wrapping your legs around his waist while he gradually shifts and rests his head on your chest.

“Good thing we’ll be all alone in the woods then, huh?”

Kakashi chuckles and nods, kissing you between your breasts.

“My thoughts exactly.”

#kakashi x reader #kakashi hatake x reader #thot-o-ween 2023 #monster mash 2023 #kendall writes #cw knotting #cw mating

660 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs