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shadamyheadcanons · 2 years

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Headcanon #291: Day After Valentine’s Day

((Better late than never, right?

Cross-posted along with its prequel on AO3.

This is the sequel to Headcanon #289, but you don’t have to read that one to understand this one.

You should anyway, though. It’s a good one, if I do say so myself.

Also, these Archie panels are relevant, oddly enough:

^ From issues 22 and 24 of Archie’s Sonic Universe comics. This isn’t even the funniest thing that happens in that arc. A+))

Amy rounded the corner of the snack aisle at the grocery store, dragging her feet as she went. Her eyes ran lazily over the foods until she reached the section she was looking for.

She sighed as she perused the wares in front of her. I thought Valentine’s Day would get more bearable over time, but I feel even more drained every year. She held herself as she looked past heart-shaped boxes of chocolate and conversation hearts, hoping to find something a little less specific to the holiday. Her expression tightened. It’s the day after, but I still feel lonely. Will this ever get any easier? She smiled wryly when she spotted a rose-shaped hunk of chocolate. At least there’s always my favorite tradition: half-price Valentine’s candy on the 15th.

She reached out for the chocolate rose. Just as she was about to put her fingers on it, though, another gloved hand got there first.

She jumped. “Oh! Excuse me, I--” She stopped when her gaze trailed up the person’s arm, noting the black fur, red stripe, and eventually a head of spiky quills she knew all too well. “Shadow?”

He held her gaze, his slightly widened eyes being the only indication of his own surprise. His gaze flicked back over to their hands. She removed her hand from his and smiled sheepishly. “Sorry about that!” He nodded in affirmation and removed the chocolate rose from the shelf.

Noting he’d brought neither a cart nor even a basket, Amy couldn’t help but ask, “What are you shopping for? Just that?”

He nodded again. “Candy’s always half-price the day after Valentine’s Day.” He peeked at her nearly empty basket. “You?”

“Heh. We had the same idea. It’s a tradition for me,” Amy admitted, examining the shelves once more. She felt her shoulders droop.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Shadow was still watching her. She put on a smile once more. “Might as well make the most of it, right?”

His expression didn’t change. He kept watching her for several seconds. Then, he glanced down at the rose he was holding and handed it to her. “Here. You should have it.”

Taken aback, Amy glanced between him and the shelf. “But that’s the last one! You got to it first, so you--”

“Take it. You deserve it more.”

He waited, hand extended, while she hesitated.

Is he...trying to make me feel better?

Eventually, she gave in. With a laugh, she took the rose from his hand. “Okay, okay, if you insist.” She carefully placed it in her basket, smiling to herself. “Thank you, Shadow.”

He nodded absently, his attention now back on the shelves of candy. Amy shuffled her feet. “Sooo...how was your Valentine’s Day?”

He hummed softly, not looking away from the shelves. “I looked after Omega to make sure he didn’t burn the house down.”

Amy scoffed. “Why would he do that?”

“He hasn’t liked Valentine’s Day ever since Blaze got with Silver,” Shadow explained, picking up a couple of alternately-colored chocolate bars--one pink, one purple.

Amy frowned and thought back. “Hang on...” Her eyes bugged out. “You mean that time years ago when Omega kept fawning over Blaze because she was good at burning things? He still...?”

Shadow snorted quietly. “Yeah...he never really got over that. He’ll be alright, though.” He put back the purple candy bar and gazed at the pink one in his hand. “It’s just tough when you’re stuck on the same person for a long time.”

Amy’s face fell. I know that better than anyone. How many years have I been stuck on Sonic? She rubbed her upper arm. I’ll never call it a waste, but...

“...Amy? Amy?”

She flinched and shook herself off. “Oh, sorry! What did you say?”

“I asked what you did yesterday,” he clarified, looking at her sideways.

“Oh, right! Uh...Cream and I normally celebrate PAL-entine’s Day,” she joked, “but this year, she actually had a date! Can you believe she’s that age already?! I can’t!”

“But what did you do?”

Shadow’s blunt question made her deflate. “Ah, I just stayed in this year. Nothing too interesting,” she mumbled.

His frown deepened. “By yourself?”

Amy huffed. “What are you trying to say? So what if I didn’t have a date on Valentine’s Day? I’m not gonna cry about it!”

Shadow’s face was unreadable. He just stared at her for a while, long enough to make her nervous. He scratched his chin.

Suddenly, his ears perked up. “You owe me.”

Amy was dumbfounded. What is his deal?! First he gives me the chocolate he wanted, then he shows actual concern for me...only to judge me for not having a date and claim I owe him...? “For what?!” she demanded.

“It was last year at Rouge and Knuckles’ wedding,” he explained. “You promised you’d teach me how to bake cookies, but you still haven’t.”

She could only stare at him blankly. That didn’t explain anything! Now I’m even more confused! She shook her head and took out her phone to open up her calendar. “Uh, okay...when--”

“Today.”

She frowned, looking up from her phone. “Today...?”

He gave a curt nod. “I’m a very busy person, so it has to be today.” He averted his gaze and crossed his arms. “Unless you’re busy with something.”

Amy paused. She looked down at her basket, which held only chocolate and a bottle of wine. She thought back to the movie she already had set up at home, a romance she knew would just make her cry. She chuckled to herself and shook her head.

You know what? Fuck it.

“Alright, alright, fine...but we’ll have to stop by the baking aisle first.”

The two of them arrived in Shadow’s kitchen with a green flash. “So what do we do first?” Shadow asked.

“Before any type of cooking or baking, you should lay out every ingredient you need just to make sure you have it all.” Amy started laying out the groceries on the counter. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve gotten halfway through a dish, only to realize I forgot something basic. One time, I got halfway through making sugar cookies before realizing I was out of sugar!” She giggled at the memory.

“Hmm...I hadn’t thought of that,” Shadow muttered.

Amy watched as he laid out the eggs and butter. That’s the first thing anyone learns about cooking! He really didn’t have anyone to teach him, did he? Her sad frown turned determined. Well, that’s what I’m here for!

Shadow’s voice snapped her out of her reverie. “Is this everything?”

Amy scanned the counter. “Hmm...butter, sugar, eggs, vanilla extract, baking soda, salt, flour, aaaand...chocolate chips! Yup! We’re all set!”

Shadow squinted at the ingredients. “Don’t we need a mix or something?”

“Nope! Not if you’re baking the right way,” Amy assured with a cheeky wink. “We’re baking from scratch, just the way Vanilla taught me. It’s all up in here!” She tapped her forehead proudly.

“Huh.”

Amy gave a quick nod. “You’re learning from the best!” she insisted. She approached his stove. “First, you need to preheat the oven. Do you know how to do that?”

She inwardly cringed at her own question. Of course he knows how to preheat an oven. He owns an oven.

Shadow hesitated, though. He joined her in front of the stove and squinted at the console. “Is there a specific button for that...?”

Amy just stared. Chaos, it’s worse than I thought. She took a deep breath and smiled. “Nope! You just turn the dial here. We’re gonna want 350 degrees.” He watched closely as she turned it.

Then, his eyes lit up. “Oh, I’ve done that before. I remember now.”

“Oh, good!”

He nodded with authority. “My microwave died a few years ago, so I had to heat my Hot Pockets in the oven for a couple days until the new one came in.”

The hint of relief Amy had begun to feel immediately died out. She resisted the urge to facepalm.

“Great!” she blurted out instead, returning to the counter. “We’ll need a large bowl, a mixing spoon, and measuring tools.”

Shadow returned with a bowl and a spoon--both a little small for Amy’s taste, but they’d get the job done--but then he got stuck. “When you say ‘measuring tools,’ you mean...?”

Amy frowned for a moment, then perked up. “Oh, right! We’ll need to measure cups, teaspoons, and a half teaspoon.”

His face remained blank. “Yeah, so?”

There was an awkward pause while Amy tried to figure out where she’d lost him. “Y’know, like...little cups and spoons to measure out the cups and teaspoons? They usually come in little collections.” His face didn’t change. She pursed her lips. “They nest with each other in sets,” she tried.

His eyes widened. He zipped off and returned with a set of measuring cups and spoons. “Is that what these are? I didn’t know cooks actually measured, I thought those were just ballpark suggestions.”

Amy stared at Shadow. He stared back.

Don’t laugh. Don’t laugh. Don’t you dare laugh at him!

She covered her face with her hand. Her smile was strained from holding back laughter. “Yep! We have to make sure all the proportions are right.”

“Ah...that explains a lot.” He looked away. She sorted through the nested cups and kept an eye on him while he continued. “So how come Rouge doesn’t measure when she cooks? She says she just kind of puts in what ‘feels right.’ She left these behind when she moved out, but I never saw her use them.”

“It’s a little different with cooking. If someone has enough experience, they can sometimes get away with it there,” Amy explained. “But you can’t do that with baking! Everything has to be exact, or it won’t come out right.”

“How come?”

Amy pursed her lips while she sorted through the spoons. “There are more chemical reactions involved.” He perked up at that, so she added, “Baking is chemistry, and the ingredients are materials. If you use the wrong ratios or mess with the procedure, the results will be completely off. It’s easy to get things mixed up, too.” She held up the tablespoon and teaspoon utensils, pointing out the similar abbreviations on their handles.

Shadow examined them for a moment, then scoffed. “Hmph. This’ll be easy. I’m a science experiment myself, so I can’t screw this up.”

Amy’s grin widened at his confidence. “Is that how it works? You’ve got it all figured out now?”

“Of course.” He took the teaspoon from her hands. “If you use this much, you get the Ultimate Life Form, but if you fuck up and use this much...” he continued, picking up the tablespoon, “...you get a giant lizard.”

Amy snickered at first, then burst out laughing when the punchline fully hit her. She leaned her head on Shadow’s shoulder as she cracked up, the way she often did with close friends. She could feel his body shake as he chuckled quietly at his own joke.

I wish more people knew how funny Shadow is. Whenever I tell people he makes jokes, they never believe me.

She straightened back up as she calmed down. By then, his gaze was serious and intent once more. Her bright smile remained as she returned to the task at hand.

She leaned in toward Shadow, and he mirrored her action. In a comical stage whisper, she confided, “Now...don’t tell anyone, but I actually cheat a bit with this next part.” She winked.

His subtle but surprised expression made it clear he was taking it entirely too seriously.

She giggled. “Don’t worry, it’s nothing bad. Most people wait until a little later to add the eggs, but I put them in first just in case I crack any eggshells into the mix. It’s easier to get them out if there’s less in the bowl.”

“Oh.” He nodded seriously. “That’s a good idea.”

“It’s just experience.” She waved it off casually, though she couldn’t help but feel flattered at the compliment. “I do this with Cream, too. It took her a while to get the hang of cracking them cleanly.”

Shadow opened up the carton of eggs so Amy could take out two of them. She held one of them over the counter. “Some people crack them against the edge of the bowl, but I crack them directly on the counter.”

“How come?”

“I’ve found it helps keep the eggshell together more,” Amy explained. “If you crack it against an edge, some of the bits separate out and get stuck on the yolk in the middle.” She lightly smacked the egg against the counter, then lifted it over the bowl and easily spread the shell apart, allowing the insides to spill out into the bowl. She tossed the eggshell into the sink. “See? No sweat!”

“Hmph.” Shadow picked up the other egg. He scrutinized it so closely that Amy had to hold back a laugh.

“I can do the second one, too, or you could take a crack at it.” She giggled at her own pun. “It’s up to you.”

Shadow snorted. “As if the Ultimate Life Form would have trouble with such a simple task. I’m built for precision. Physical dexterity is my specialty.”

“Prove it.”

He met her teasing smile with narrowed eyes. He scoffed and turned his attention back to the egg. After squinting at it for a moment longer, as if trying to glean its secrets, he whacked it against the counter just as she had, using exactly the right amount of force. He held it over the sink and expertly spread the shell to let out its contents, as if he’d done so a million times. He tossed the empty shell into the bowl with a brand of confidence only he had. He crossed his arms and puffed out his chest proudly. “Hmph.”

Amy stared at the bowl. She glanced into the sink, then looked back up at Shadow. A few seconds passed while she waited for it to sink in.

Shadow stared at the eggshell sitting in the bowl. His expression didn’t change as he let out a quiet, “...Oh.”

A loud bark of laughter burst from Amy’s lips. She bent down at the waist and held her stomach as she cackled.

Shadow’s expression turned sour, and his ears reddened in humiliation. Amy covered her mouth and rested a hand on his shoulder to ground herself.

“Oh, Shadow, I’m sorry! I--pfft--I can’t help it, that was just too funny!”

He didn’t look placated. She wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. “It’s alright, Shadow. Cream did exactly the same thing when she was first starting out!”

Shadow’s ears perked up, and his expression softened. “Really?”

Amy nodded. “She was so proud of herself, too! But then it hit her, and...” Amy devolved into laughter once more, letting out an involuntary snort.

“Let me guess: she did that thing where she gets embarrassed and puffs out her cheeks?”

Amy gasped. “Yeah! How’d you know?”

“Hmph. I see it all the time when I babysit her. She did it the last time I saw her. Vanilla teased her about someone she knew from her art club.”

Amy giggled. “I bet that was her date from yesterday. It’s cute, isn’t it?”

He nodded. A tiny, lopsided smile graced his face. Amy couldn’t help but grin herself.

He doesn’t smile often, but it’s so nice when he does.

His fleeting smile made way for a determined frown. “I’ll be cracking the other egg. I need to redeem myself.”

Amy snickered under her breath at his overly serious demeanor. She extracted the eggshell from the bowl and disposed of it in the sink. “Be my guest. We’ve got ten left just in case!”

“I won’t need more than one.”

His confident declaration proved to be correct as he cracked the next egg with skill and efficiency, dropping the components in their correct places this time.

Amy nudged his upper arm. “You know, you really are good at that. Most people take a while to get the hang of it.”

“Naturally.” He held his nose in the air. A moment later, though, he muttered a hasty, “Thanks.”

Amy smiled. She picked up the largest measuring cup. “Next, we’ll need butter, white sugar, and brown sugar.”

Shadow handed her the white sugar. He took out a stick of butter, then looked at the measuring cup in confusion. “Ah...how do I...”

Amy pointed to the measurement lines on the side of the wrapper.

“Oh! So...”

“You need to soften it first. Microwave it for a few seconds, but don’t let it burn!” she warned.

“Hmph. I’ve got this. I’m an expert with the microwave.”

Amy almost laughed, but when she saw the sincere look of pride on his face, she held it back. God, he’s serious, isn’t he?

She shook it off and glanced around. “Do you have a knife?”

In a split second, he was back by her side with an assortment of knives in his hand. “I have steak knives, butter knives, paring knives, boring knives, carving knives, utility knives...plus Swiss army knives, combat knives, serrated and beveled edges--”

Amy laughed. “Why am I not surprised that this is the most well-stocked part of your kitchen?” She plucked the butter knife from between his fingers. “This’ll do.”

He zipped off to return the others and returned to her side. “Why do you need a knife?”

Amy dipped the cup into the bag of white sugar. “To get the amount just right.” She lifted the cup to the edge and carefully scraped off the excess with the knife, then dumped the remaining sugar into the bowl. “See?”

Shadow nodded. “Can I try?”

“Mhm!”

He mimicked her motions with the brown sugar, deftly leveling it off and dumping the sugar into the bowl. He nodded his head once in satisfaction.

“Nice! You’re a natural!” she praised.

He opened his mouth to reply, but then his nose twitched, and he dashed over to open the microwave. He retrieved the bowl of now half-melted butter.

Amy’s eyes widened. “Wow, that’s perfect! Could you really tell just by smelling it?”

“It’s subtle, but it’s there.”

He poured the butter into the bowl, spreading it out evenly over the sugar. She scratched her chin. “You’ve got a steady hand and a strong nose. You could be a really good chef if you wanted to, you know.”

He lifted his shoulders. “Maybe. It hasn’t really been a priority for me.” Before she could say anything in response, he put the bowl back down and asked, “What’s next?”

“We need to mix it all together.” She glanced around. “I don’t suppose you have an electric mixer, do you?”

In response, Shadow held his communicator up to his face. “Omega, are you busy? I need your assistance.”

Amy cocked her head, so he explained. “I don’t know if Rouge took it with her or not, but I can’t find it. I hardly used it as it was, though, so I’ve been taking another approach.”

The metallic clanging of Omega’s footsteps approached. He paused in the doorway upon seeing the two of them. “GREETINGS, AMY ROSE. SHADOW, WHAT IS MY MISSION?”

Shadow inclined his head toward the bowl. “We need to mix these ingredients.”

“UNDERSTOOD.” Omega held up one of his clawed hands. He pressed a button on his arm, and his hand started spinning, his sharp silver fingers whirring around at an alarming speed.

Amy cringed, head filling with images of sugar, eggs, and butter being flung from the bowl at high velocity to coat the walls of the kitchen. “Ahhh, just one sec!” she cut in, stepping forward to take ahold of the bowl herself. “We might want to be a little more careful.”

The high-pitched whirring stopped. “WHY?”

Amy picked up the spoon Shadow had given to her earlier and started stirring the mixture vigorously herself. “It’s easier to keep things under control if you stir by hand. An electric mixer can help, but the manual approach might be better for now.”

She eyed Omega’s knife-like fingers warily. Not to mention safer.

Omega watched awkwardly as she stirred. “Sorry to call you in here for nothing, Omega,” she apologized. “I hope we didn’t interrupt anything important.”

“I WAS ENGAGING IN TARGET PRACTICE TO TEST THE NEW MISSILE LAUNCHER G.U.N. INSTALLED FOR ME.” Omega’s eyes glowed with excitement. “ITS DESTRUCTIVE POWER IS EXHILARATING.”

Shadow reached for the bowl in Amy’s arms. She handed it over, and he took over the stirring for a while as he spoke. “It’s a good thing the training area’s soundproofed. Personally, I think G.U.N. went overboard.”

“THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS ‘OVERBOARD’ WHEN IT COMES TO DESTRUCTIVE POTENTIAL, ONLY POWER AND THOSE TOO COWARDLY TO WIELD IT.”

Shadow snorted, and Amy giggled.

Omega changed the subject. “WHY ARE YOU NOT TRAINING AS WELL, SHADOW? IT IS SATURDAY AFTERNOON. YOU TRAIN EVERY SATURDAY FROM 1 PM UNTIL 4 PM. ANOMALY DETECTED.”

Shadow’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t look up from the bowl. “I can train later. I’m in the middle of something important.”

“YOU ARE A CREATURE OF HABIT. THIS BEHAVIOR IS HIGHLY ABNORMAL. SHALL I CONSULT A MEDICAL PROFESSIONAL?”

Shadow’s stirring grew faster. “I’m fine. I don’t get sick.”

Amy glanced back and forth between Shadow and Omega, confused.

“YOU HAVE NOT SKIPPED A TRAINING SESSION IN FOUR YEARS, THREE MONTHS, THIRTEEN DAYS, AND--”

“Ah--I think it’s mixed well enough!” Amy cut in, taking the bowl from Shadow’s hands. She smiled sheepishly up at Omega. “Do you want to bake cookies with us, Omega? It must be lonely training by yourself.”

Omega’s cooling fans sped up. “I AM FINE! I REQUIRE NO ASSISTANCE!”

Amy flinched, but Shadow just held a hand to his forehead.

Omega tromped back toward the door. “I AM AN INDEPENDENT ROBOT! I AM PERFECTLY CAPABLE OF BURNING THINGS ALONE!” His metal footsteps retreated down the hall.

Amy winced as she realized the sore spot she’d just hit. “Poor Omega.”

“It’s gotten a lot better,” Shadow muttered, leaning toward her to make himself heard. “The first year, I had to remind him that Silver can stop bullets and crush metal.”

Amy’s face twisted in sympathy, but then she smiled up at Shadow. “I’m glad he has you to look after him!”

He shrugged it off. “I just do what I have to for public safety.”

Amy giggled. She picked up the vanilla extract. “This next part is always a little nerve-racking for me. If you add even one extra drop of vanilla extract, it can ruin the whole thing. It’s that strong! So..” She found the teaspoon and pressed that and the vanilla extract into Shadow’s hands. “Can you? Please? You have steadier hands than I do!”

She looked up at him with the cutest, most endearing expression she could muster.

He just gave her an unimpressed look, then sighed. “You can put the puppy-dog eyes away. I can handle this.”

She squealed happily. “Yes!” She directed him to pour in two teaspoons. He stirred it all together while she took out the baking soda and salt.

As she guided him through the next few steps, she couldn’t help but notice just how intensely he watched, the way he was hanging on her every word. It wasn’t a feeling she was used to. After a lifetime of being the silly girl with a crush, the tagalong who followed Sonic around, the one whose feelings were a little too big...it felt as if everyone treated her like a naïve little girl who knew nothing about the world. She couldn’t count the number of times her friends and foes alike had disregarded her feelings and input.

Even her “little sister” thought she had her head in the clouds.

But as Shadow watched her, focusing on everything she had to say, she felt none of that. In fact, it occurred to her that he’d never made her feel that way. Every word she’d spoken to him had been given a level of care and consideration she never got to feel with anyone else.

“What’s next?” Shadow asked.

Amy thought back, checked all the ingredients, and grinned. “That’s it for prep! We just have to bake them in the oven now.” After checking to make sure the oven was preheated, she opened it and slid in the first tray. Shadow did the same with the other. She set the timer for nine minutes. “This recipe usually takes ten minutes to bake, so I set it for nine minutes and check on them a little early so they don’t burn.”

Shadow’s gaze was fixed on the timer. “Why don’t you just turn the heat higher? It’d make them cook faster.” He reached for the temperature knob.

“No!” She stumbled over to grab his hand. “That’s not how it works!”

He paused and looked down at their hands. His eyes turned...mischievous? “How come? It’s at 350 degrees, so why not 700 degrees for 5 minutes?” He reached for the knob with his free hand.

She immediately grabbed that hand, too. “NO! You’re going to ruin our cookies!”

“1400 degrees for two and a half minutes. 2800 degrees for one minute and fifteen seconds.”

“Stopppp!” Amy cut in, though they were both laughing by then. “If you bake them faster at higher heat, then the outside will burn and the inside won’t cook all the way through.” He nodded in response, still paying rapt attention even through their laughter.

Her giggles quieted, and she could hear his own low chuckles under his breath. She decided she liked the sound.

“Mmm?”

A soft sound drew their attention from the floor. A pink Chao was peeking around the corner, its eyes focused on their joined hands. Its emote ball had formed a curious question mark.

Shadow released Amy’s hands and made his way over to the Chao. He squatted down next to it and held out a hand. The Chao put its paw in his and gazed up at Amy, clearly skeptical.

Amy could just barely hear Shadow’s voice as he spoke to it. “Do you want to say hi, Rosie?”

The Chao looked back and forth between the two hedgehogs. After a moment of contemplation, she bobbed her head.

“Good.” Shadow led the Chao into the middle of the room. He stopped, leaving extra space between Amy and the Chao. “Rosie, this is Amy. She’s a friend of mine.”

Amy squatted down to the Chao’s level, just as Shadow had. She smiled disarmingly and waved. “Hi!” she greeted, keeping her voice quiet. “It’s nice to meet you!”

The Chao shuffled over to hide behind Shadow’s feet. Shadow kept an eye on her, but he didn’t pressure her to respond to Amy. Instead, he just waited. After about ten seconds, Rosie peeked out from behind Shadow’s foot. She waved a shy paw at Amy. Amy beamed.

So cute!!

Shadow nodded in approval and gestured down at the Chao. “This is Rosie. I adopted her from the shelter last week.”

Rosie kept her eyes fixed on Amy. She sucked on her paw. Shadow leaned in to exchange a few words with the Chao. He stood and retrieved a bowl and a few spices from his cabinets. He took out a couple square fruits from a basket Amy hadn’t noticed before. She watched in fascination as he chopped up the fruits, then scraped them into the bowl along with a dash of nutmeg and a dusting of cinnamon. He stirred the concoction as he made his way to the kitchen table. Rather than remaining on the floor to eat as most Chao would, Rosie climbed up to sit on one of the chairs. Shadow allowed her to do so, though he spotted her to make sure she didn’t fall.

Amy cocked her head in confusion. What is going on? Why didn’t he just pick her up?

Rosie’s tail wagged happily. Now fully focused on the food, she dug in while Amy watched, baffled.

Shadow walked over to stand by her side. “Rosie’s...been through a lot,” he muttered. “She needs support that other Chao don’t. And she’s picky.” He chuckled once under his breath. “Kind of like me.”

Amy’s gaze drifted from the happy Chao up to Shadow’s face, which showed a small, fond smile. Her heart melted.

This guy doesn’t know the first thing about cooking, but he figured out just what spices to use to take care of a Chao who needed his help. He’s been looking after his silly, lovestruck robot friend for years. He happily babysits Cream. He’s made it his entire life mission to protect anyone who calls this planet home.

And...come to think of it...

“Shadow...is this really about cookies?”

Shadow immediately stiffened. His wide eyes slid over to Amy’s knowing smile with trepidation. His jaw clenched, and he crossed his arms tightly in front of him. “Well...” he croaked out. He scratched the back of his neck and looked away.

He sighed. “You...you looked so sad. I couldn’t...”

She remained silent. His shoulders dropped, and he met her eyes once more. “I know you hate being alone.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but he stopped her.

“I can tell.”

She waited. Eventually, he continued.

“I’m not good at cheering people up. But...I thought if you didn’t have to be alone, then maybe you’d feel a little better.”

He kept eye contact. Her heart gave an odd lurch. “Shadow, I...” She trailed off and bit her lip, then asked, “Can I hug you?”

He nodded. She pulled him into a tight hug, tucking her head under his chin. She felt his arms wrap around her, tentative but reassuring, and she buried her face in his soft chest fur. “Today was wonderful. Thank you.”

He didn’t reply, but he gently cradled the back of her head and held her closer.

Just as she was noticing how warm he was, the oven let out a series of loud, piercing beeps, making her jump. She could hear Rosie whine in discomfort at the noise. Shadow immediately let go and made his way to the stove. He turned off the timer, opened the oven, and reached in as if to grab one of the cookie sheets.

“Wait, stop!” Amy cried out, jumping forward to grab his hand. “You’re gonna burn yourself!”

“I heal quickly. It’s not a big deal.”

“Yes it is! It would still hurt!” She sighed and checked the cookies. This guy...

She closed the oven door. “They should stay in for another minute.” She reached for the timer, but Shadow stopped her, nodding toward Rosie, who still seemed shaken by the noise. Amy looked up at Shadow again.

You know how to take care of just about everyone...except yourself.

Maybe it’s about time someone returned the favor.

Amy pursed her lips. She mulled it over, then spoke.

“We could hang out again some other time if you want. I could teach you how to cook some other things.”

His eyes widened. After a few seconds that felt far more nerve-racking than Amy had anticipated, he lifted his shoulders. “...I guess I could use the help.”

She half-smiled. “I’d be happy to, though I’d understand if you didn’t have the time. What with you being such a busy guy and all.”

“I don’t have much spare time. But if something is important to me, I’ll make time for it.”

Amy could read between the lines.

I’ll make time for you.

She clasped her hands together in front of her and beamed. “Does next weekend work for you?”

He took out his phone to peruse his calendar, then nodded. “Sunday at exactly 5:15. Don’t be late.”

“Of course I won’t. It’s important to me, too,” she replied with a wink.

Amy waved to Shadow and left, bringing half the cookies with her. Shadow took a bite of one from his own stash, savoring the soft texture and sweet flavor.

“Ah?”

Shadow peeked down to see Rosie was pointing to Amy, shooting him an inquisitive look.

“Hmph.” Shadow sat down beside Rosie and scratched under her chin, enjoying the contented noise she made. “Someday I’ll tell her...but today, she needed a friend.”

((Most of Shadow’s failures are mistakes I personally made when I first started baking, and I actually do crack the eggs first like Amy does here. It’s probably not “standard,” but I think it should be! I’ve also only ever made cookies with a mix before, not from scratch. No shame! The recipe I looked up for this headcanon is located here.

Fair warning: I have no idea whether that recipe is any good.

If you want to read more about Rosie, she originally appeared in Shadow Sitting. Shadow first adopted her in A Rosie Outlook.))

#shadamy #shadow the hedgehog #amy rose #sonic the hedgehog #hc #Chao #Rosie the Chao #<-- she's in enough stories to warrant a tag i think #silvaze is there but not enough for a tag tbh #and i don't think that #omega x blaze #has a proper ship name #omaze? blazega? omegaze?#all of these sound awful #platonic #e 123 omega

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phyrestartr · 6 months

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Icarus, I Am Devoted | Sukuna x M!Reader

Main Fic W/C: 5.9k Bonus Drabbles W/C: 1.6k

[#Modern AU, ABO dynamics, bottom!reader, top!sukuna, Mob Boss!Sukuna, Alpha!Sukuna, Street Doctor!Reader, Omega!Reader, toxic relationships, age gap, sukuna is mid 30s, yuuji gang and reader are mid 20s, sukuna and yuuji are brothers, sukuna has FEELINGS, but he is BAD AT FEELINGS, nsfw, fluff, hurt/comfort, I KINDA EDITED BUT I JUST WANT THIS TO BE YEETED INTO THE OPEN OK BYE SORRY IF PARTS ARE CLUNKY]

@better-imagination-9 I summon thee

Sukuna didn't like Yuuji getting caught up in his business.

He was too brash, thought himself too badass for the world to take down, thought gang life wasn't as bad as it was made out to be, just because his older brother was involved. Sukuna didn't know where the fuck he got that idea–the tattooed menace had killed people, stolen money, sold shit that ruined lives. It was fun for him, sure, but not so much for bystanders.

“You're an idiot,” Sukuna growled as he dragged his brother into his office and threw him at the chaise lounge while they waited for their doctor on demand.

“H-hey, come on, man! It's, uh, it's not even that bad–” Yuuji grimaced, though, holding at the wound gushing blood from his arm. “You've had worse!”

Sukuna laughed bitterly as his henchmen flooded the room and made necessary preparations for their aid's arrival. “You and I are fucking built different, Yuuji--you’re too damn soft for–”

“I'm not,” Yuuji snapped, honeyed eyes blazing. “I'm not.”

Sukuna laughed again, then ripped his plush, leather chair across the room, sending it hurtling into the expensive ebony walls he encased his place of business in. He roared in overwhelming fury as it clattered to the floor.

“How hard is it for you to listen? How come you can never just fucking–”

“Yelling won't solve things,” your cool voice interrupted as you hurried into the room, medical bag in hand. “I thought you learned that by now.”

Sukuna whirled on his heel. His hands were still fisted in his hair and his blood boiled, but now, there existed an explosive tension with you in the room.

You, his pretty little omega. The one he chased away. The one he still craved. The one that drove him insane.

“Uraume,” Sukuna growled, crimson eyes locking onto his most devoted.

“My apologies,” they said with a pensive look and deep bow, “he was the only one willing to come.”

“So mind your manners, or I'll let your brother bleed out,” you said airily, so haughty and bitchy and annoying. But Sukuna knew you wouldn't let Yuuji die. You wouldn't let him suffer with a wound like that–you were too fond of the little brat.

Sukuna snarled in frustration and fixed his jacket with sharp tugs. “Just fix him.”

He stalked away, ignoring the way Yuuji yelled at him before preening at you as you tended to him. Sukuna knew his brother had a bit of a thing for you, his bitch, which caused more than a handful of problems with the two arguing and fighting for your affections. Naturally, you chose Sukuna. Of course you would.

The alpha's frustrations boiled, reducing the rage in his gut into simmering desire. He leaned his head back against the elevator mirror with a sigh as it shot up toward the penthouse--the one you, too, used to occupy. The one where you'd spread your legs for him, drowning in expensive, black silk sheets while he bred you like the good little thing you were. The one where you'd cook for him if (when) you woke up before him the morning after. The one where you first whispered I love you against his skin when you thought he was asleep.

The elevator doors dinged open, and he stormed out, eager to rid himself of the tightness pulling at his slacks. A cigar and a drink sounded good, too.

–

Ding.

He knew it was you. It had to be you. You were a good person, willing to let Uraume rest while you gave your ex the update he needed about his brother. After all, you didn't fear him, nor did you yearn to please him. You were more than capable of delivering shit news and getting off scotch free.

“So?” Sukuna took a deep puff from his cigar and leaned further into the balcony railing as you approached.

You hummed as you sidled up next to him, tucking some of your hair behind your ear as the breeze tugged at it. “He'll be fine. Yuuji's tough. He's a bit shaken up now that the adrenaline’s worn off, though.”

“Maybe that'll teach that idiot not to get shot.”

“Probably not.”

“Probably not,” Sukuna sighed, tapping off a dash of ash from the butt of his cigar just before it was plucked from his hands. “Oi.”

“These things'll kill you,” you scolded airily. “So will that.” You tried reaching for the crystalline glass of amber, too, when Sukuna scoffed and took a sip to spite you.

“Don't,” he snarled. Any normal omega would have backed away. Any normal omega would have keened. Any normal omega would have tried to please him up with a sweet scent of submission. But you were a different breed entirely.

“Don't growl at me–” you gaped as Sukuna downed the expensive liquor before whipping the glass at the skyline. “Sukuna.”

He stalked back into his penthouse with heavy steps as he ran his hands through his hair. He had to busy his fingers, his palms, just so he wasn't tempted to touch you, to grab you like he was used to. It'd been years since you were properly together–properly engaged in fact–but he still couldn't shake those infuriating fucking habits. You were a cancer in his mind, plaguing his body and thoughts.

But he didn't want you to leave. Maybe he liked the chase. Maybe he just liked how his entire, explosive world narrowed down to just one infuriating thing that he wanted so badly. He didn't know. Maybe he didn't need to know.

Sukuna poured himself another drink and collapsed onto his soft leather couch with a deep sigh. His arms draped along the back, one hand still holding the glass by the rim. He let his head fall back, and stared at the ceiling.

Thankfully, you wandered in. And you wandered toward him, not to the door like you usually did when his temper flared and he acted out. Something small and pathetic in him uncoiled and settled down, purring in content when you took a seat beside him.

“What's going on?” you asked quietly. Your fingertips singed sparks of pleasure against his skin where you touched: his cheekbones, his hairline, his furrowed brow.

He lolled his head to the side to look at you, his stupid pretty boy. “Nothing.” Not even Sukuna believed that.

You brushed his hair back, and the stupid alpha in him rose to the surface and moaned. “Yuuji’s not behaving?” Your warm palm cupped his cheek, and he leaned into it.

“That little shit never behaves,” he mumbled through the vibrato of purrs rumbling from his chest. “Gonna make me die young.”

“Hm. Is that why you haven't slept?”

“I'm sleeping.”

“How much?”

“Enough.”

“Sukuna.”

“I said–”

“You and I have different definitions of ‘enough,’” you chided lightly, like you were scolding one of your cats. “You look tired.”

“Maybe it's because my mate scampered off in the middle of the night.”

“Don't blame this on me.”

“Why not?” Wine-red eyes glowered at you, deciding whether he should dominate or decimate you. “It's your fault.”

You recoiled the slightest bit, your top lip twitching in that oh-so familiar way it did whenever you were close to snarling and snapping at him. You had such a temper for such a calm thing. Sukuna would be lying if he said he didn't try to rile you up on purpose.

“Ho? What,” he started, grinning wickedly when you made a move to get up, but his arms snaked around you and held like wrought iron. “Feelin’ guilty?”

“No,” you hissed, half-pissed by his drink spilling on you, half-pissed by his accusation. “Let go. I'm leaving.”

“Leaving?” He crooned. “You always get so pissy when I don't wanna talk, ‘n now that I'm in the mood, you're tryna leave? Come on, sweetheart, that's not fair.”

“I don't feel like fucking fighting tonight,” you snapped, and Sukuna stayed quiet for a change. “Yuuji got shot. You look like shit. And we--I haven't–” you took a deep breath. “Can't we just be civil for a night? Can't we just talk about–”

“About what?”

“About whatever.”

“Fine.”

“Alright. Okay.”

Somewhere behind the haze of alcohol, Sukuna's consciousness celebrated–this could be his shot at starting to fix things. This was his moment to rebuild that lost relationship and maybe clean up a space in his life for you to sit safely in. Your expectant expression agreed with him. You looked quite cute, what with your big eyes and the way you leaned into him. But instead–

“Was it a boy or a girl?” Sukuna asked before taking a sip of whatever remained in his glass.

You blinked and shook your head, eyes narrowing the slightest as you looked over his face. “What?” You asked.

Sukuna snorted and turned to face you, one arm gesturing with his scotch glass while the other arm stayed slung across the back of the couch. “I said,” he started, gesturing to your stomach and chuckling through his low, bassy words, “boy or girl? If it was a girl, then maybe the world did you a favour. You know how it is for women in this day and age.”

You stared blankly like you were shellshocked, and Sukuna bubbled with near-manic, reedy laughter until you got up and walked to the door.

“Oi, where the hell are you going, huh?” He got up and followed you, hastening his steps when he saw you b-line for the door. “Omega.” He grabbed your wrist and pulled you back, purring into your ear as he pressed his chest to your back. “Come on, we can make another one. You'd like that, huh?”

“Get off,” you barked, ripping his arms away from you. But he grabbed you again and spun you back to face him. You shoved him back, your mind whirling in a chaotic waltz drenched with grey thoughts and crimson rain that almost drowned out the words he barked at you until–

Whack.

He hit you. Backhanded, fingers adorned with thick, bulky rings and knuckles that'd seen too many fights. A natural disaster contained in the vessel of a mortal man–sometimes, he didn't know his own capabilities.

“Shit,” Sukuna mumbled, scrambling to set down his glass to, what, tend to you? Rewind time? Sure. “Babe–”

But you, too, were a natural disaster. The tsunami that came after an earthquake, raising tides high and staring down at split earth with a taunt: you think you're bad? Watch this.

Thwack.

You snatched up that bottle of fancy scotch and hit a home run, watching Sukuna collapse to the floor.

–

Sukuna woke up with a concussion, his wallet missing, and one of his favourite cars torched.

It got him riled up. He was too ready to hunt you down and make you rectify your mistakes–that is, until he remembered why you did what you did.

Boy or girl?

Maybe the world did you a favour.

Fuck. He flew way too close to the sun this time.

He watched you stack up expenses on his card instead of hunting you. Your little rage-filled crime spree was kind of funny anyway, and he couldn’t help but hope it made you feel at least a little better.

Though he knew it could never. Nothing could make it better.

–

“You should quit messing around with him,” Ieiri said as she tended to the half-dead gangster laying on her operating table. “He's bad news. A kid like you shouldn’t be getting involved.”

The one little, wiggly lucid part of Sukuna wanted to strangle Ieiri; you were young, sure, but not stupid. Sukuna wouldn't go so far as to say you were mature for your age, no, but you'd been beaten down by life and forced into the role of an adult for long enough that it'd changed your way of thinking, of perceiving the world. You could make your own choices–just as long as it involved him.

“You're not the first person to tell me that,” you said softly, words rising with a small, warm chuckle. “Good guys try way too hard to put on a show, to hide how garbage they can be.” You squeezed Sukuna's hand and ran your thumb over his split knuckles. “Guys like him show you who they really are right away. Then, you get to figure out what his good side is like.”

–

You were there again. In the elevator, looking a little pensive beyond your cool exterior.

Sukuna took a drag from his cigarette as he stepped in beside you. The button for his penthouse leered at him and whispered, “you have time.”

All he had to do was think of what to say. The right course of action was obvious, but–well, was it really his fault? He couldn't accept that 100%. You clocked him upside the head with a fucking glass bottle and stole his–

“Those things'll kill you.” Your fingers snatched the smoke from his lips before he realized it. He caught you butting it out on the fancy gold railings.

“I like things that can kill me,” he hummed, lighting another cigarette and chuckling when you snatched that one too. “What, scared of a little competition?”

“Yes.”

Oh. Sukuna liked that.

“I, uh,” you started, fumbling with your pockets before handing something over. “Found this.”

Sukuna glanced your way finally. He couldn't help but laugh as he plucked the wallet from your hands.

“Found it, huh?”

“Mhm.”

“Such a benevolent, pious thing. I would've kept it.”

“Yeah, well. You're a dick. ‘Course you would.”

“Where'd you find it?”

“My pocket.”

“No shit.”

“Yeah. Weird.”

The elevator doors dinged open, revealing the empty hall leading to the penthouse. He glanced down at the door before looking back down at you.

“Have a drink with me.”

Your expression soured.

Sukuna threw his arm against the doors to keep them open. “Coffee?”

Your brows lifted, the creases smoothing from your face. “Coffee.”

Sukuna's alpha bloomed with pleased content. He sidled up next to you and rested his broad hand on the small of your back, leading you down the hall.

“With a bit of Baileys.”

“No Baileys.”

–

He let you try to sooth his stress while you waited for your favourite, poor-person coffee to brew.

You straddled his thick thighs as you kissed at his neck. Your hands roamed and threaded through his gelled hair, your blunt nails dragged along his scalp, coaxing rumbling purrs out of your alpha.

“Shit,” he moaned, leaning back into your hands, digging his head into your digits and grumbling like an old dog. You hummed in sympathy, and gave him harsher scritches, making his knee bounce in double time like a dog getting the spot scratched.

You weren’t done, though. You licked at his neck’s scent gland and coaxed more of his natural musk to the surface to mix with yours–a classic way to get one’s partner to calm down. You were methodical as fuck about it, too, knowing how Sukuna’s stress abruptly blocked any good scents in favour of excreting foul, angry odors into the air when he was pissed. Or, sometimes, he’d shut down completely, the only scent coming from what clung to his skin and clothes.

And so, he needed a little more TLC to get things flowing again, to make his body disarm and let the good vibes flow.

You nipped the swollen spot lightly, eliciting a strangled growl from the man. “Too rough?” Your tongue pressed at the spot again, and pulled more of that deep purring out of him. “Maybe not.”

“By all means, rough me up.” That was as close to a warning as you would get from a greedy bastard like Sukuna. He wanted you to bite harder, to break skin and set the wild tornado of a mating rut into motion. You were careful to avoid him when your unholy heats crashed down on you, but being in the presence of your estranged man when he was set off–well, it’d jumpstart your sex-crazed frenzy, too.

“Raincheck,” you murmured.

He huffed and rubbed circles in your hips before grabbing your ass and squeezing. “When's the last time–”

The coffee maker sang a tune and you got off, saved from your warm, fuzzy marking daze. “Does it matter?”

Sukuna got up and stalked after you, rubbing the ache out of his shoulder. “Like it or not, we're stuck with our binding vow.” His chest pressed to your back, his arms slipping around your waist as he leaned down to nuzzle into your skin. “Mated for life.” He couldn't help the smile that branded into your neck.

You cleared your throat and snatched up two mugs. “There're surgeries–”

“No.”

“How do you take your coffee again?” Hah. You didn't even try to argue it.

Sukuna's ego boomed. His scent grew more dominating and demanding in tow. “You know how I like it. You know the way I like everything.”

You scoffed and slapped his hand away, the sweet, teasing omega that happily marked him up and scented him to high heaven gone, now replaced with your annoying, bratty self. Ugh. He loved it as much as he hated it.

“You used to be cuter,” Sukuna commented, quiet and breathy, so out of character. His hands retreated back to hold your waist instead of keeping you trapped against him. “What happened to–”

“You know what happened.” You sounded tired, too. Angry. But not at the Sukuna standing with you right then and there.

Sukuna's old friend, unyielding frustration, bore down on him. He sucked his teeth and beat down the urge to snap, to yell and scream, claim it wasn't his fucking fault and that you never filled him in, so how could–

His forehead pressed against your shoulder. “I don't,” he sighed. “I don't fucking know, (Name). We lost our kid, I know that much, so what the fuck else is there?”

For a moment, he thought he'd lost you again. He expected you to whirl around, throw a cup at his head and curse him to hell to start off another fight; instead, you slipped out of his hands gently, and replaced your warmth with a cup of coffee.

“Come sit.”

Sukuna complied.

You tucked your legs up under you when you sat down. Your own mug was held snugly with both hands, yet your fingers fidgeted, twirling around whatever rings you had on while you thought of what to say.

“So,” you started. “How much do you know?”

Sukuna leaned back and thought. “Uraume called. Said something was wrong.” He could remember their voice ringing in his ear, that usual, frigid demeanor exploding into something panicked and tortured as they tried to comfort you, order idiots around, and explain the situation. “They didn’t know what, but said you were bein’ taken to Ieiri. I met ‘em there, Gojo wouldn’t let me come in.” He sighed, the memories pricking his nerves. “Told me you miscarried, and–well, that’s more or less it.”

You nodded a little, digesting the scraps of knowledge that’d been given to Sukuna. “I was alone,” you breathed. “I was–I’d been cramping. A lot. I thought–I didn't know–I just–I thought it was normal.” You cleared your throat, fidgeting more and only stilling when Sukuna's palm rested on your leg. You covered his hand with one of yours. “There was a lot of blood. I thought I was dying. Uraume and Yuuji took me to Ieiri.”

Sukuna remembered that, too. He remembered catching sight of you just before his brother carried you away from him. It was hard to forget the sound of your wailing amidst all that red–that damned noise came from hell itself, from the burning, fetid pits of agony and despair and up through your beautiful voice. For something so foul to touch you was nothing but blasphemous.

Sukuna tried to follow you in, but that moron Gojo wouldn’t let him in, spouting some bullshit about how he’d make things worse. Needless to say, Sukuna snapped, and Ieiri suddenly had more than a mourning omega to deal with.

“I pinned it on you to cope. I didn’t know what else to do.” You spared a shy glance at him before staring down again. “...Uraume filled me in, though. You were dealing with so much shit. All that crap with the Zenins. And you didn’t even–you didn’t even know I was knocked up until I wasn’t.” You sighed and sipped your drink before setting it aside. “Guess it was easier to blame you for everything than it was to just accept I got unlucky.”

“‘Unlucky’?” Sukuna repeated lowly, void of mirth for once.

You nodded. “Chromosome bullshit, garbage genetics, a shitty cervix. Coulda been anything.” Sukuna watched your expression shift from desolate to bitter. “And if you fuck up once and lose your pup, odds are it’ll happen again.”

“Says who?”

“Science. Doctors.”

“You really gonna take their word like that?” Your eyes met his, doey and expectant. “I'll gut ‘em myself if they say that shit next time you're knocked up.”

You looked a bit bashful then, looking away from him with pursed lips and glossy eyes. For a second, Sukuna thought you were about to snap and argue with him about how you vowed to never get pregnant again (which he'd indulge in), or maybe even bolt for the door (which he wouldn't allow), but instead, you grabbed the remote.

“Tch. Don't say such stupid shit. It's annoying.”

Sukuna could only grin to himself as you settled in beside him, tucking up against his side. Neither of you could swallow your pride enough to properly apologize for anything ever, but that wasn't necessarily needed–understanding was what was needed. Things had just become a little bit clearer.

–

For once, the alpha found himself at ease. Sure, you had your petty and some less-than-petty spats, but there was a coil of contentment that stayed at the forefront of Sukuna's mind through it all. Now, he no longer fumed nor bristled, no longer wondered if you really belonged to him, no longer thought about how to trap you if he wanted to keep you around.

Because you made more of an effort to see him, to call when you couldn't, to set his vicious wolf's heart at ease so he could rest soundly. He rested the most when you were so gracious as to curl up in those black, silken sheets with him, too.

Don't get too excited. It's just because we're mated; we'd go insane otherwise, Is how you rationalized it. And, honestly, it was cute to see you act so flippant and uncaring when Sukuna knew you were so the opposite.

Little liar. Loves playing pretend. He gently tucked stray hairs behind your ear as you snoozed soundly beside him. It was unlike you to sleep in so late (“late” meaning past 6am), and it was unlike Sukuna to wake up before you, so it must have been kismet.

Because this moment was the first in a long time where he got to touch you. Beyond the playful ass slaps and grabs at your hips, you never really let him feel you. Or did he just never try to touch you like this? Gently, just for the sake of feeling your skin and your warmth?

Sukuna was a brutal man. He didn't often have a chance to be careful. If he'd had that kid, then he might've learned how; he could've learned not to throw glasses at skylines, not to lash out at his omega, not to expect you to still love you when he broke you.

He brushed his thumb along your cheek and down to your jaw, admiring the soft skin and strong angle that led him to the curve of your chin, and your perfect lips. God, he wanted to kiss you. It'd been an eternity since he had a taste of you. Maybe if he was gentle–

I can do gentle. Sukuna shifted the slightest bit towards you until his nose lightly brushed against yours, until he felt your light breaths fan against his skin. Ah, why was his heart beating so fast now?

He did his best to ignore the way his pulse thundered in his ears when he brushed his lips against yours once more, before he kissed you softly. Gently. Perfectly. And he took his time parting. He had to savour the taste of your lips against his because who knew when he'd get to kiss you again?

I love you, he heard echo in his memories when your lips parted. But he never heard himself reply.

“Love you too, brat,” he murmured. “Don't you dare think otherwise.”

Your eyes opened a moment later. “You mean that?” came your reply, just as light and whispered. Sukuna felt waves of heat come off your skin–were you blushing?

Crimson eyes flickered from your bashful look to the slight parting of your lips and back again. “Always.” Even though he never said it. But he let you get away with everything to show that love–credit card theft, cracking him upside the head with a bottle, abandoning him for months on end.

A soft ‘hm’ hummed through you. Your sleepy gaze melted from Sukuna’s, and down to his lips, too, while your own pursed, pensive. Thoughtful. Christ, you were really something else–just a single look from you had his mind reeling, his chest easing into a warmth so reminiscent of a campfire, the sort you both used to sit around when you’d bullied Sukuna into buying one for his too-big balcony.

Back then, you were just “friends,” though the flirting and meaningful touches said otherwise. You were still a street doctor, introduced to him by Yuuji of all people, but you had more pep in your step, especially when you worked to try and swoon the hardened, deranged alpha you’d decided belonged to you. You’re mine, you said simply after shooting whatever whore the big, bad boss had hired for the night. The look in your eyes, cold and determined, got Sukuna achingly hard in an instant. He never wanted you to look at anyone else like that–your rage, your obsession, it could only ever be for him.

“‘M I still yours?” You still want me? You still love me? Am I still just for you?

You looked a little sentimental. A little sad, too, maybe. But maybe it was just the culmination of your fears and worries, your wants and desires finally breaking through your solemn being.

“I'm a minimalist at heart. I've only got room for so much.”

“Don't tell me you're back on that Kondo Marie kick–”

“But you're something I can't do without.” Yeah, I love you. I want you. I don't want much, but I want you. You're mine. “You bring me joy, or whatever the saying is. But I wanna beat the shit outta you sometimes for being a dumbass.”

Sukuna laughed and nudged your nose with his–a small, primal gesture of fondness. “Yeah, yeah, I'm aware. Tch. You're gonna have to be careful--you're gonna send my old ass to an early grave if you keep up with all this fiery youth shit.”

“Then I can inherit your fortune,” you offered airily before kissing him teasingly. Sukuna growled when your small fangs dug into his bottom lip playfully. “That'd be nice.”

“Hah. Everything's going to family–Yuuji, the old fart.” Sukuna pulled you in closer and purred as you complied. “You'd have to–”

“I'll marry you if that's what it takes,” you cooed, and Sukuna froze. You paused for a moment, too, before lifting yourself up to look down at his dumb face. “Oi.” You pat his cheek lightly but he scowled at you, half-cranky, half-defeated. “Eeeh? You mad?”

“Tch.”

“Awe, big alpha's mad.”

“Don't.” A command. A warning. One that had your subgender reeling and whimpering behind you, but your human side smiling, ready to mock.

You slid on top of him, straddling his waist and splaying your hands out on his broad, solid chest. Sukuna still kept his gaze elsewhere. Honestly, you couldn't blame him--you were in a mood.

“Oi,” you prodded, poking at his ridiculous pecs and tracing over the dark lines of his irezumi. “Hey. Don't pout.” But he grabbed your hands when your stupid fingers threatened to assault his nipples, and he continued to pout. “Come on, I said I'd marry you.”

“Tch.” You've said that before.

“I mean it.”

“Tch.” You’ve said that before, too.

You leaned down, and nuzzled the hollow of his cheek while he grumbled and grumped. “You don't like the idea of breeding me anymore? You don't want me to yourself, all caught up in your bedsheets with you between my legs? Hm? You don't wanna fuck me through my heat, knock me up a few more times, make me bare your children for the world to see how I belong to Ryoumen Sukuna? You don't want me to be drenched in your scent–”

You squeaked when your man flipped you around, pinning you before ripping off the sleep shorts keeping your skin from him. His rough fingers dove deep into your slicked up hole (apparently your long list of hypotheticals had worked you up into a soft, wet, pliant thing) and hurried to stretch you wide.

“Such an annoying little shit,” Sukuna grumbled. And you laughed, lightly and so achingly genuinely through your fluttery mewls and moans. “If you try ‘n back out this time, I'll break your fucking legs and tie you down to the bed, you got that? I'm not gonna be so fucking nice this time.”

“Eh? You were being nice last–” you whined when his wet fingers jammed into your mouth. But you obediently sucked and bit at them, holding onto his muscled arm for leverage while he kicked off his bottoms and pressed his sweltering tip to your soft entrance.

“You got no idea, princess.” Sukuna pushed in, groaning with ancient, cursed need as your insides welcomed him and obeyed, letting his uncomfortable size push you open. Seemed your body still remembered him. Wanted him as much as your stupid pretty mouth claimed.

You were gasping, your molars chewing into his fingers as your missing piece slid back into place, filling you up until it hurt to breathe. Strong thighs clamped down against Sukuna’s sides as he dragged you down, forcing the last bits of his cock into your very depths, squeezing a reedy whine out of you, before he pulled out and slammed right back in again and again and again.

Your cry nearly sent him over the edge. It was a loud, bassy thing, something like a cello toppling or having its string plucked too hard by a callous touch–a sound Sukuna reveled in. You were the only partner he'd had that was like this, so demanding and bitchy, absolutely horrible and as poisonous as alphas were, and he loved it. He lived and died by your gospel, by the very life that thrummed underneath his touch.

And you promised to be all his. Sukuna could have everything, anything and anyone, and that apparently included trapping and claiming a god. One that only he prayed to. One that'd only smile upon him. One that only delivered to him divine blessings.

What a divine gift.

He folded you in half with ease and blanketed your trembling body with his own. The fingers fucking into your mouth slipped out and down to your throat where they squeezed lightly; then, they traveled to the back of your neck, found your cute little nape, and squeezed.

Your eyes rolled back as your body arched up into him. Words left you in some ancient tongue neither you nor Sukuna could decipher. But it was a language of love and pleasure, the sort that brought delicious submission coiling through your blood in offering to the lowly creature devouring your holiness.

“Sukuna,” you choked out. Your fingers dug into his shoulder and fisted in his hair, pulling him closer to the old, scarred mark left there by him a decade ago. “‘Kuna, I need–”

The boss laughed low, but with fluttery, manic high tones warped throughout. “Need me to bite you? Mark you mine again?” He taunted. His nails dug into your soft side as he fucked into you harder, lifting your waist up to meet his brutal angle as his base started to swell. “I wanna hear you say it–say you need it, you want it. Say you need me to fill your guts every fucking night. Say I'm the only one who can get you there. I'm the only one–” his other hand grabbed your nape harder, forcing your submission further, forcing your neck to the side to present it to him.

Then, with a snarl, he added, “say ‘I do.’”

Your arms wrapped around his shoulders as you murmured those very words into his ear.

I do.

Sukuna's heart howled with the beast living inside him. Blood flooded his mouth when he tore into your shoulder, digging deeper than needed to brand you his again just before his pulsing knot squeezed into you and locked into place, stilling his wild rampage and holding you hostage beneath his hulking body.

You shifted and writhed against him, so obviously overwhelmed by such an archaic, crazed union–your omega must have been going wild, willing you to fight against the monster pouring his seed into you, locking you in place, taking away your autonomy. But a short, rough warning growl settled your inner self the slightest bit and straightened out your thoughts enough for your human pettiness to urge you, too, to sink teeth into flesh and mark up your alpha to complete the re-bonding.

Good boy. Sukuna's hips rutted against you in light pulses, attempting to jam his knot further into you to ensure you'd take everything he so graciously offered you. But every little move your bodies made together tore more hot strings of cum out of him and into your core. Apparently an eternity of not having you was culminating into this one moment.

You were the one to let go first. You collapsed onto your back with a loud sigh, and the crushing constriction of your thighs laxed just slightly.

“Fuck,” you gasped, wholly content and pleased. Your hand wiggled between your bodies and rested on the still-inflating curve that your partner had oh-so loving built out of cum and obsessive dedication. “That's gonna make a mess.”

Good. Sukuna's chainsaw purr reverberated against your bloodied skin. He chewed into you further and relished in the taste and smell of you, the way it mingled with his own scent of existence and made him feel so irrevocably whole.

Your fingers laced through his hair as you laughed. “Oi, let go already. Your knot's not gonna go down for like thirty minutes. I'm not going anywhere.”

Your mate obliged, dislodging his chunky fangs from you and lapping at the wound dutifully until the bleeding staunched. Next, he got to work leaving an array of dark hickies and light bites all over your neck and shoulder, just in case the gnarly bite mark wasn't enough to ward off idiots who thought they had a chance with you. He grumbled at the mere idea of it.

“So?” You cooed, running your hands up and down his muscled shoulders. “What do we do for half an hour?”

Sukuna scoffed. He tried to pull out just a bit, just to see if he was seriously locked in there, and you spat a vile hiss his way, your nails digging into him at the same time. And, fuck, you were tight–

“Fuck.” He didn't think this through.

-- DRABBLES --

“You're dumb as fuck, you know that?”

“Ah, such romantic words to hear from my wife.”

“Husband, jackass.”

Sukuna managed to open his eyes through the pounding of his head. God, he felt like shit. But that probably came with the territory of getting shot point-blank before bailing out of a moving car on the highway. Honestly, he was lucky only one car hit him when he hit the pavement.

Still, it was bad enough to warrant him a ticket to the hospital. Uraume worked behind the scenes, ensuring their boss got a private room and that the police would stay the fuck away if they knew what was good for them, and it all somehow worked out. Uraume was definitely a sorcerer of sorts.

“Can you save it for home? Fucking hell,” Sukuna groaned, letting his eyes fall shut again. “Too tired to argue.”

“That's a first,” You huffed, and marched up to his side, sitting down in the cozy seat waiting for you. Your careful touch prodded at his hand gently, as if assessing the damage, guestimating if you could hold his hand without hurting him, but he made the choice for you. He caught your hand weakly, and you held him safe with both of yours.

“Missed you,” he grumbled, squeezing back lamely. “Have fun on the trip at least?”

“Yeah, until I heard what happened.” You sighed, watery and warbled. “I shouldn't have left. You're too stupid to survive alone.”

Sukuna laughed, then coughed. He felt you tense. “F-Fuck you, little shit. I'm fine.”

“You got shot.”

“Been shot before.”

“Jumped out of a car.”

“I've jumped outta faster.”

“Then got hit by another car.”

“That was a first.”

You sighed to fight back either a sob or ill-placed laughter, or maybe both. “This is so fucking ridiculous. Never make me take a vacation again. I can't be off fucking around in Hawaii when my baby daddy's getting hit like it's GTA.”

“Christ, I already–” he paused, though, and cracked an eye open to look at you. “What did you…”

He lost his words when he saw you. Your skin glowed in a way he hadn't had the luxury to see before. Your face looked rounder, too, like you'd put on a little bit of weight since you'd been gone. But your scent–your usual sweet, full-bodied scent of flowery coffee was cranked up to a trillion. If Sukuna's nose wasn't busted, he would've noticed the way it filled up the room, and he might've noticed how his own scent rose to meet it in greeting. Something strange was happening.

“Oh. Right. Uh…” you cleared your throat and hastily tucked some hair behind your ear. You looked a little bit lost for words too, in all honesty. “I’m pregn–”

Sukuna sat up. You barked at him to lay down, your voice rising a few octaves when something that was probably important dislodged from his wrist as he reached forward when you stood. And you froze when his palm pressed against your stomach–a natural, maternal thing to do. Sukuna remembered when he caught your cat for you when she was trying to dart out the door whilst pregnant, and how she froze dead in her tracks when his hand caught her by her kitten-filled stomach, and let him carry her back inside.

But this was different. This wasn’t his partner’s cat’s kittens he was feeling, it was yours. His. A shared little nugget doing its best to grow big for its expectant mama–and now expectant papa.

“How long?” Sukuna rasped. When did his throat get so dry?

“Two months. Ish.” You rested your hands over his again despite the awkward angle he caught you at. “I didn’t know until last week. I tried to call, but–” You got obliterated and couldn’t answer your phone.

“I get it. Don’t gotta explain.” Sukuna gazed at your stomach a moment longer with droopy, half-lidded eyes before looking up at you as nurses burst into the room. “You’re moving in.”

And for once, you didn’t argue.

–

“Dude, you guys can't fuck when he's pregnant! You'll crush the baby like a tin can!”

You snorted and tried to cover your mouth as your tea shot out your nose. You coughed and wheezed, turning away and waving at the brothers in a desperate plea for them to not look and continue their petty argument.

Sukuna, caught between the urge to mock you and kick the shit out of his annoying little fucknut brother, sighed and rubbed his face before handing you his fancy handkerchief he kept tucked in the breast of his jacket for nothing but looks. These days, though, the damn thing had been paying its dues.

“You think I'm gonna listen to a fuckin’ virgin about this kinda shit?” Sukuna quipped back as he watched you clean up before trying to take a sip of your drink again.

“Hey, man, I'm just saying. Your dick is like a third leg.”

You slammed your hand down on the table after spitting a mouthful of tea back into your cup. “Yuuji. Please. Why do you even know that?”

Yuuji pouted and scooted closer to you under the kotatsu. “Wh--we're brothers! It's not even that weird!”

“It's weird as shit,” Sukuna offered as he reached out to rub your back.

“So not weird.” His honeyed eyes locked onto the small affection the older showed you. “Man, so not fair you guys are ganging up on me now that you're, like, a thing,” Yuuji whined and let his arms and chest flop across the table like a petulant child.

Sukuna smirked. “Jealous?”

You grumbled. “Sukuna. Don't start.”

Yuuji's ears turned bright red. “Jea–what?! No! I like girls like Jennifer Lawrence, not--I don't–”

“N'awe, little pup's tryna cope with losing.” Sukuna grinned wildly when Yuuji's head snapped up, pinning a deadly stare onto the older alpha. “Oh? Finally grow a pair?”

“Sukuna,” you warned again.

“You better shut it, dude,” Yuuji threatened next, and you knew it was a lost cause; two alpha brothers, both incredibly competitive, both pining for the same omega, spelled disaster.

Your partner laughed that familiar, ugly laugh–the sort that was too genuine and sounded borderline insane. “Or what? You gonna make me cry–”

Yuuji launched over the table in an instant, tackling his brother to the ground with a bratty snarl. You watched on, unimpressed, waiting for any signs of their wrestling turning into a serious fight, but it never came. So, you enjoyed it a bit. It wasn't everyday the two idiots played nice.

You rested your hands on your curved stomach while the two growled and snarled half-heartedly in their dumb attempt to subdue the other. Sukuna could've won in an instant, you both knew that, but he'd let Yuuji think he had a fighting chance for a little bit. It was part of the fun for him, letting his little brother gnaw on him like it'd do anything, letting him try to use his horrible jiu-jitsu skills on his older, bigger brother. It reminded you of–

“Oh,” you peeped when a rowdy kick jostled your hand. It didn't come from the boys, no, it came from the tiny tot inside you.

The boys froze and stared at you.

“Huh? What's ‘oh'?” Yuuji asked through his panting and straining. Sukuna had him in a headlock, one of his hands giving a brutal noogie to the younger's head.

“No, just–I think she kicked. Maybe not, I don't–” but your expression brightened with delight when another little throw hit your hand.

“No shit?” Sukuna grinned, waves of excited alpha scent rolling off of him. He face-shoved Yuuji away before sidling up next to you and pressing his palm against your stomach. You guided his touch to rest over the kicky hotspot, and sure enough–

Thump. Thump.

“Two kicks for your old man, hey?” Sukuna hummed, looking so damn triumphant.

“Hey, hey, I wanna feel!” Yuuji scrambled over like a nightmare and wiggled up on your other side, pointedly ignoring the snarl Sukuna sent his way. “Come on, it's my niece, chill out.”

Sukuna growled again, but you pulled his hand off to let Yuuji feel the little life making herself known. His eyes, too, lit up when those tiny thwacks battered his palm.

You looked up at Sukuna dreamily, making the other's ticked expression smooth down into just mildly-annoyed; if your omega wasn't threatened, then he wasn't going to threaten. Sukuna didn't think Yuuji would hurt you, absolutely not, but anyone who came near you, or so much as accidentally bumped into you, pissed Sukuna off, sending his over-protective instincts into overdrive. He always had to rely on you to know when not to react.

“That's so cool!” Yuuji squeaked. “She's seriously in there!”

“Where the fuck else would she be,” Sukuna grumped.

“Don't ruin his fun, Sukuna.”

“Yeah, don’t ruin my fun!”

“Yuuji’s banned from the house.”

“WH–HEY!!”

“Sukuna.”

“Heh.”

“What about gramps, then?”

Sukuna paused. His heart stopped for a long, long moment.

“What about him?” He answered, nonchalantly as possible. “Old fuck cut me off years ago.”

“He still cares,” Yuuji offered with a shrug. “And I told him about the pup ‘n everything.”

Sukuna frowned. “Yuuji–”

“You seriously think he doesn't give a shit? Dude, be real, the guy raised us.”

“That's generous.”

“Didn't you say you were leaving everything to Yuuji and ‘the old fart’ originally?” You cooed, unhelpful as ever.

Carmine eyes found yours. “...If he actually wants to meet her–”

“Awesome, I’ll let him know!”

“Oi, runt–”

But Yuuji jumped up and pulled his phone out, leaving Sukuna to wonder what he’d just gotten himself into while you laughed at his misery.

#sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x male reader #sukuna x m!reader #sukuna x you #jjk x you #male reader insert #male reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen reader insert #jujutsu kaisen x male reader #jujutsu kaisen x you

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littlest-w01f · 1 month

Text

Devine

Batboys x CoN!OC (Kiana)

RYSAND MASTERLIST

CASSIAN MASTERLIST

AZRIEL MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

Summary: Rhysand is getting older, and he, along with his general and spymaster, needs to claim an Omega before his Alpha instincts take control of him completely and he is rendered unfit to be a High Lord, lucky or unluckily for him, Kier has an idea.

Cw: Mentions of underage girls/child brides, Rhys acting evil man

A/n: while participating in @acotar-omegaverse-week, I got an idea for a mini-series, so I had to...

part one

Presentation. That is what Kier had called this while talking to Mor, what none of the inner circle members knew it was, what neither of them had expected was seeing a line of omega females, all of them different ages, the youngest being eight from what Rhysand could see of the two faelings trying to hide behind anything that could cover them.

Rhysand stayed silent, watching the commotion of the younger omegas, the children, trying to run away, the elder ones who were almost a hundred standing still, looking nearly dead inside.

"Kier what is this!" Mor demanded, her eyes blazing with fury seeing the chaos in front of them, neither of the inner circle's faces were cracked of their cold Night Court persona, but Rhysand knew that Cassian and Azriel were just as disgusted as him and his cousin at the scene.

Kier stood in front, motioning towards the omega females, "Just a gift for the High Lord."

Rhysand's gaze swept over the assembled omegas, taking in their varied states, some trembling with fear, others seeming numb, a few even appearing resigned to their fate. His eyes lingered on one of the youngest, a nine-year-old girl clinging to her older sister, tears streaking down her face, but the elder female, a clearly bonded beta, gave no damn, shoving the child away from her. A wave of anger washed over him, but he tamped it down, knowing it would serve no purpose now.

"How very thoughtful of you," Rhysand said, a cruel smirk on his face, directed towards no one but Kier. The smirk on Rhysand's face sent chills down everyone's spine, knowing full well the implications behind those words.

"You… You can't be serious," Mor whispered, her voice trembling with rage and disgust at the scene, only for Rhysand to hear.

But Rhysand ignored her, getting up from his throne, the almost three hundred alpha made his way to the omegas, he looked at them, taking them in, the younger ones were barely old enough to acknowledge themselves as omega, or him as their High Lord or alpha, they were simply scared children, while the older ones, they bared their necks to him the second he stood up, they could sense his power, he knew he was powerful, a powerful enough alpha to dominate other alphas as well, it was all too fake in his eyes, they were pretending, trying to attract him.

He wanted to tear Kier a new one, demand what the male was thinking, he didn't want an omega, just like he knew Azriel and Cassian didn't. If he had one, he would claim them out of love, he wanted his omega to love to submit to him, and view him as alpha with trust in their eyes, not fear, or uncertainty. And the jewels and fancy dresses they were made to wear were almost laughable, as if money would've attracted him or would reflect on his choice.

Before he could make any move, he inhaled sharply, and he froze, that scent, he'd never felt anything else like it, never scented something that attracted him so much, he couldn't stop himself from seeing which omega it came from.

The scent hit him hard, like a punch to the gut. It was sweet, musky, and utterly intoxicating. He scanned the room again, searching for its source, his heart pounding against his chest. Then, he saw her, a petite figure huddled in the corner, her back pressed against the wall, her head bowed low. She was a mess of angry, tangled curls and her clothing, a corsetted dress, tight on her frame, she wore a giant pendant necklace that looked downright horrendous on her, taking from her features. Her scent, It was stronger here, near her.

She was beautiful, despite the clothes she had on, had she been his, he would've tamed her beautiful curls, bought her clothes that would go best against her pale skin, and put jewellery on her that would look lovely on her. There was something about her vulnerability that drew him in. Her innocence seemed untouched, untamed, unclaimed. And that thought alone made his blood boil with possessiveness. She was too pure, she wasn't faking anything, it almost felt like she was doing it without even trying, drawing him in by simply existing.

Rhysand approached her slowly, cautiously, as if afraid she might bolt. Rhysand stopped in front of her, towering above her, his imposing figure casting a shadow over her. His eyes roved over her form, taking in every detail, the curves of her body outlined beneath the clothes that looked cheap on her, she was way too good for them in his eyes, the swell of her breasts pressing against the fabric of her dress, the flare of her hips. Her scent grew stronger, filling his senses until it was all he could think about, the only thing he could see was her. He reached out a hand, intending to touch her, to confirm that she was real, that she wasn't just a figment of his imagination, but paused, not wanting to startle her.

Instead, he spoke softly, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through the air between them. "Who are you?"

Kiana had groaned in pain as the handmaid pulled at the strings of her corset, she hated it. She'd been forced to prepare for the High Lord's arrival for a week, she had been starved and dehydrated to lose weight, and her mother had pulled and pinched at the tips of her ears to make them look as if she was blushing, to look beautiful for the alpha, her father had told her to attract him, but she hated the thought, of being forced to be with an alpha, even if the omega in her cried for the familiarity of an alpha, to have a home with him, the thought of submitting to someone like the High Lord of the Night Court made dread fill her stomach, the thought of everything he might expect from her, she didn't want to be present around him.

The question caught her off guard, and she flinched slightly, her doe-like eyes widening as she glanced up at him. She bit her lower lip nervously, "I… I'm Kiana... My lord..." She stammered out, her voice barely audible. She shifted uncomfortably under his intense gaze, the corset digging into her ribs, making breathing difficult. She was terrified, unsure of what was happening, but she knew she needed to stay strong. She was an omega, after all, born to bear children and provide comfort.

She fought against the urge to submit to him, his scent was too powerful over her, his presence putting a weight on the back of her knees, and she fought against the need to submit to him. He wasn't her alpha, she wouldn't kneel to him, something that intimate was reserved for a male she loved, not a random alpha with too strong pheromones. So she stood strong.

The corner of Rhysand's lips twitched upwards, amused and yet impressed by her defiance. "Kiana, hmm?" he mused aloud, his violet eyes burning into hers. He leaned down, close enough that his breath fanned across her face, her scent enveloped him, making his head spin, he needed her. "You're quite pretty, considering the atrocious state you've been left in," he murmured, glancing pointedly at her clothes. He straightened back up and crossed his arms over his chest, surveying her as though he were a sculptor appraising a piece of marble.

He leaned back into her neck, inhaling her scent straight from the strongest source, and he growled, "You are mine." He claimed her.

Kiana's entire world narrowed down to the feeling of his warm breath against her neck, the roughness of his voice when he spoke. She nodded, her mind still reeling from the shock of his sudden declaration.

Rhysand almost groaned as she leaned into him subconsciously, before the realisation that he had claimed her hit in and she stood up straight. "This is horrible, sweet." He whispered against her neck, his hand slipping behind her neck, unclasping the heavy necklace, making it fall to the ground, the very fake gem of it cracking when it hit the ground. "Come with me, pretty omega."

She followed him obediently, knowing that she had no choice but to obey. As she walked behind him, she tried to calm herself, reminding herself that she was an omega, meant to serve and please. This was her duty, her purpose. She hated it, she wasn't supposed to have an alpha who didn't care for her, someone like Rhysand was rumoured to have omegas on the side, but if she played her cards right, perhaps he would just keep her for show, maybe he won't try to sleep with her.

Kiana watched Rhysand take a seat on his throne, her ears were ringing, her thoughts a mess, she saw him looking at her expectantly, but she hadn't heard him. She took a deep breath, trying to focus on her breathing, the thought of making a male like Rhysand mad at her was enough to calm her enough to listen to him.

"Come now, sweet omega, don't make me repeat myself again," He had his legs spread open and Kiana was sure she would pass out, he surely wouldn't make her kneel between his legs, the thought of doing that, not only for a male she didn't know, but her cheeks heated up at the thought of doing it in front of an entire court, her ears burning, but he simply patted his thigh, "Take a seat."

Kiana hesitated for a moment, her heart pounding in her chest, but ultimately, she did as she was told. She stepped closer to Rhysand's throne, her hands trembling slightly as she placed one upon his knee and upper thigh. Then, with a deep breath, she sat down, her skirts pooling around her. She kept her gaze lowered, unable to meet his piercing violet eyes. Her mind raced with thoughts of what could happen next, each scenario worse than the last. But she remained silent, not interacting with him even a little, even if her heart ached to want him as her alpha.

Rysand could sense the disapproval of his inner circle at playing Kier's twisted game as he spoke up, "This omega is mine."

The statement hung heavily in the air, echoing throughout the court. It caused a ripple of surprise and relief among those gathered, their gazes flickering from Rhysand to Kiana and back again. Some of them scoffed, others muttered under their breath, but none dared to challenge the High Lord directly.

But Rhysand ignored them all, focusing solely on Kiana seated so demurely before him. "Do you understand what that means, my little omega?" he asked her, his voice low and laced with a gentle tone, his voice low enough for only her to hear.

Rhysand waited patiently, allowing her time to gather her thoughts and compose herself. His eyes never left her, studying her reactions, her expressions, every subtle change that revealed how she felt about this sudden development. He could see the fear in her eyes, the confusion, but also a hint of something else, something stronger, more resilient. He found himself intrigued by this small, defiant omega who had been thrust into his life without warning.

"Look at me," Rhysand commanded softly, his tone inviting rather than demanding. When she finally raised her gaze to meet his, he smiled gently, a contrast to the harsh exterior he often displayed at how easily she followed his command when it wasn't as clear of an order as the one he had given her before. "I promise, there's nothing to fear from me, from any of us." he assured her, his words sincere despite the circumstances.

He reached out, tracing a finger along her jawline, his touch surprisingly gentle given his size and strength. "Trust is earned, not demanded," he continued, his voice dropping to a whisper as he leaned in closer. "And I intend to earn yours, little omega."

Kiana's body trembled at the warmth of Rhysand's fingers against her skin, her breath catching in her throat. Part of her yearned to lean into his touch, to let go of her fears and simply bask in the comfort he offered. But another part, a stubborn, determined part, held firm. She knew better than to let her guard down around someone like him, no matter how kind his words or how gentle his caress.

Rhysand noticed the tension in her body, the way she stiffened slightly beneath his touch. He withdrew his hand, respecting her boundaries even as he wished she would relax, allow herself to be comforted by him. "It's alright, sweet," he murmured, his voice soothing. "You don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with."

He sat straight, giving her space, his gaze never leaving her face as he observed her struggles. The omega within her clearly yearned for his touch, for the reassurance and protection only an alpha could provide, he didn't feel the need to comment on how she was picking at his pant leg, he was sure she didn't even know she was doing it. But the fear and uncertainty stemming from her current situation held her back. Rhysand knew he had his work cut out for him, but he was determined to help her overcome her fears and learn to trust him. He wanted her to trust him, to let her feel he would never hurt her.

{General Taglist - @nox-ceur @lilah-asteria @paleidiot @dee-writes-smut @adalia-jaycee @anarchiii @alwayshave-faith}

{Rhysand Taglist - @yeonalie}

{Cassian Taglist - @yeonalie}

{Azriel Taglist - @fxckmiup @annamariereads16 @saltedcoffeescotch @satorusemepls @fieldofdaisiies}

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hannibals-favourite-meal · 8 months

Note

I was wondering if I can request a sam Winchester x fem reader smut and fluff, where maybe he's an alpha and he and Dean are out hunting or something and maybe they get ambushed but then are saved by omega reader, and Sam is head over heels for her from the beginning, but she is unsure cause of comments in her past saying that's she's weak or something and then maybe after a while he asks her out on a date and it goes well and they keep seeing each other and eventually smut

.⋆｡Something Happens And I’m Head Over Heels｡⋆.

Alpha!Sam Winchester x omega! plus size reader

When a mysterious hunter swoops in and saves the Winchesters at the last second, Sam falls in love at first sight but she’s been hurt by alphas like him before.

Warnings: smut, a/b/o, angst, monster death, canon typical violence, injuries, parental abuse/neglect (not just for the Winchesters), mention of parental death, consent checks, oral (m and f receiving), no penetration, confessions, sort of mutual pining, he falls HARD

WC: 6.1k

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

The coppery smell of blood was now almost permanently etched into Sam’s mind. He had smelt blood straight from a wound and even blood that was weeks old but nothing had ever smelt like this before. The scent was so thick he could practically taste it. He gagged on the stale air silently, still cautious of how much noise he was making.

The walls of the abandoned warehouse were painted a rusty brown and when Sam looked closer, he immediately shut his eyes, trying to repress his nausea- it was dried blood, caked on so thick it looked like paint. His grip on the machete in his hands tightened until his knuckles were a deathly white.

Get in. Take out the vamps. Get out. He repeated to himself as he continued his journey into the heart of the nest.

From what he and Dean had predicted there were, at most, 6 vamps in the nest. And while normally that number would constitute calling in backup, Sam’s rut was only a few days away so he had the strength of three grown (and frustrated) men so they went in alone.

Sunlight leaked through the boarded up windows, providing the only illumination to guide his way. Vaguely, he could hear his brother’s footsteps from the other side of the otherwise silent building. Soon, the hall opened up before him, revealing a huge room absolutely full of bodies, both dead and undead.

His heart pounded in his ears as panic quickly overtook him. Their calculations were very very wrong- there were close to a dozen vampires littered around the room, each with at least three drained corpses around them. His hazel eyes went wide as he caught sight of Dean, only now entering the room on the other side.

He saw as Dean’s chest hitched, the situation dawning on him. They made eye contact and with an almost investable nod to each other, then slowly began to back out of the room. Even with Sam’s temporary strength, there was no possible way they could kill that many vamps safely.

His whole body was tense, both rearing for a fight and ready to run at a moment’s notice.

Clang!

The pipe appeared from thin air, practically materialising before him just as Sam put his foot down. The metal spun away from him before he realised what was happening and slammed into the hollow siding of the hallway.

Everything froze and Sam held his breath. “Looks like we got some fresh meat boys!” He cursed under his breath and spun around just quickly enough to see the vamps rising to their feet, eyes blazing with bloodlust.

The plastic handle of his machete suddenly seemed incredibly slippery as Sam readjusted his grip on the weapon. They couldn’t kill this many vamps at once and they certainly couldn’t outrun them but they definitely weren’t going down without a fight.

Debris crunched under his heel as Sam planted his feet, his pupils contracted to a pin drop and his chest rumbled with a deep growl. His scent turned sour with his fury. “Bring it.”

His blade whistled as it slashed through the air, easily biting into the neck of the first vamp. Its head separated cleanly but Sam’s follow through was too long and quickly, the second darted towards him, razor sharp teeth bared.

With a snarl, he planted a hand on its chest and shoved the monster back, giving him just enough room to plant the blade into its shoulder. It howled in pain but continued to charge forward, yellowing fangs glinting in the low light.

Sam’s shoulder jerked as he pulled the blade back out but before he could complete a second swing, another vamp threw itself towards his legs, quickly knocking him off balance. Fear prickled across his skin as his back slammed into the metal wall. There was a crunch and then pain shot up his right shoulder.

He tried to curse but all that escaped him was a feral growl that echoed through the building. A bulk of the nest now crowded the hallway, each pushing and shoving, trying to get at the hunter. Fangs sliced into his calf as more hands grabbed at him, ripping the blade from his hold.

Just as his desperate struggle to get free seemed fruitless, light filled the hallway and the dark figure of a woman was silhouetted against the afternoon sun. The vamps barely had time to react to the burn of the light before her arm cocked back and she threw a pipe into the middle of the crowd.

As soon as the thick metal hit the dusty ground, it set off an explosion, sending thick almost black liquid all over them. It sunk into their flesh, spreading through them like molten lava. There was a moment where everything froze and then a sound erupted from the vamps.

They screamed in pain as they clawed at their skin. Suddenly Sam was free but it was not his blade that struck down the suffering vamps.

She moved with more grace than he ever thought possible, her own machete almost dancing through the air as she effortlessly operated their heads from their bodies. Within seconds, the warehouse was silent once more, leaving behind only the smell of blood and the most delicious scent Sam had smelled in his life.

Without a word, the hunter wiped her blade clean with the shirt of one of the vamps and slid it back into the sheath strapped to her plump thigh. “You hurt?” But all he could focus on was the little smear of blood on her full cheek, oh how badly did he want to reach out and wipe it away with his thumb.

Her eyebrows scrunched and gave him a once over. “That’s a pretty gnarly bite you got there, can you walk?” She reached a tentative hand to him, quite obviously taking note of the husky scent of his rut, and it was all Sam could do not to snatch it up and press his nose to the pulse point on her wrist.

She easily helped him back to his feet, laying a steadying touch on his toned stomach when he began to sway. His heart flipped and the world shrunk to just her. “Sammy!”

Her head turned to look where his brother’s voice had come, exposing her scent gland to the alpha who couldn’t help but take in a deep breath, eager for another whiff of what he thought his heaven smelled like. Old books, campfire, home.

“Sammy, huh?” She teased, the beginnings of a smile tugging at her lips. His knees buckled. Yet before he could come up with a semi-articulate response, Dean barrelled around the corner, eyes wide and full of fear.

The biting scent of adrenaline came off of him in waves and the mysterious woman immediately cringed, her nose scrunching. Anger flared in Sam’s belly, his alpha screamed at him to pull her away from whatever was causing her such discomfort, even if it was his brother.

As soon as Dean saw Sam, his body sagged with relief. “Shit that was a close one.” He groaned but quickly, his tone changed when he caught sight of the plump woman standing next to his brother. “I see you found a friend, a very attractive one. Dean Winchester, and that is my gigantor baby brother.”

He easily slid up to her, his green eyes hungrily tracing her soft curves before settling on her face. Sam knew that move, he had seen it hundreds of times before but it was only now that he had a problem with it. “Y/N. You boys should know better to take on a whole nest alone.”

Dean actually looked sheepish at her scolding and Sam’s alpha preened. “Strong omega. Perfect mate.” He purred.

“Well, we thought there were less. How the fuck did you kill all of ‘em so quick?” He looked around at the bodies in amazement, giving the one closest to him a kick. The skin where his boot touched crumbled into ash.

“Pipe bomb filled with blessed dead man’s blood.” She replied like it was obvious.

“Blessed?” Sam croaked out. Y/N shivered at the sound of his voice but quickly suppressed it as she spoke again.

“Like how you would bless holy water.” Dean nodded in approval, the hand holding his machete going slack as he forced himself to relax with the danger gone. But Sam still felt incredibly wound up, especially as his brother approached her.

“That was badass, for an omega that is.” Sam didn’t miss the way she flinched, however minute it was.

“Yeah.” She smoothly took a step back from him, her body twisting beautifully as she moved towards the exit. Unconsciously, Sam began to follow. He needed to be close to her, to soothe the ache in his chest.

Dean gave a quizzical look to his brother but he was ignored as Sam limped behind her, his alpha slowly stealing control from him, rut now dangerously close.

“So do you wanna go get a drink with us to celebrate, I think we owe you a round.” But she waved him off as she walked to her slightly busted up truck. He watched the way her hips swayed, the dark material of her jeans perfectly hugging her ass in a way that made Sam’s mouth go dry.

“Bars aren’t my thing. Maybe I’ll catch you another time. Try not to get yourselves killed.” Her machete is thrown into the passenger seat with far more force than necessary, making the hollow siding reverberate as she climbed in after it.

The engine roared to life, quickly breaking Sam from his trance. But before he could even take one step towards the truck, she was gone, leaving behind only echoes of her scent.

——————

She couldn’t stop thinking about that alpha no matter how hard she tried to forget him, even though it had been weeks since the unfortunate encounter. There was just something about the way his big hazel eyes had looked up at her as she saved his life or the sound of his voice. But most of all, his scent was almost seared into her mind, a delicious mixture of gunpowder, pine forest and chocolate.

Never in her life had she smelt something as good as that and it was slowly killing her. Alphas were dangerous, alpha hunters doubly so. They were violent and aggressive and more pigheaded than she ever thought possible, and they hated omegas.

Sure, they liked fucking them but they refused to claim them. Omegas were just rut bunnies, a tool to get off so they could go back to killing monsters. And an omega hunting? She had been laughed out of more hunter bars and backups than she could count. So it was best to just forget him, she didn’t think she could bear it if he was like the others, if he was like his brother.

Y/N swallowed thickly, her grip tightening on the steering wheel. Even his name was pretty, Sam like some guardian angel or an ancient warrior. He was strong and tall and packed with muscle. Her omega constantly reminded her of what a perfect mate he was, how he could provide for her and her pups, how safe he made her feel.

With every mile she drove away, her soul burned, urging her to turn the truck around and drive straight back to him. But her willpower was stronger… for now at least.

But until that day came, she would do what she did best- hunt.

——————

“C’mon Sammy, you’ve been sulking for weeks. She was just an omega!” Sam glared at his brother over top of his beer, the fifth of the night. He couldn’t just forget her, not when he had never met anyone like her before, not when the very thought of her made his heart clench and butterflies fill his stomach.

It had been easy to learn all about her from Bobby and Rufus. They both sung her praises, describing her as immensely intelligent and well versed in all sorts of lore as well as being cunning enough to escape a den of werewolves with only a screwdriver and a half-empty lighter. With every story they told and little fact they divulged, Sam fell even deeper in love with her.

She was an enigma of the best kind.

“You’re being an asshole Dean, what exactly does her presentation have to do with her value as a hunter?”

“Jesus Sammy.” Dean scoffed. “What crawled up your ass and died?” Sam rolled his eyes and stood from the old booth.

“I’m going back to the motel, text me if you aren’t coming back tonight.” He walked out of the bar before he could hear Dean’s protests.

The biting winter air calmed his anger some but that simmering disappointment in his brother was still there. Y/N was not just an omega yet for some fucking reason, no one else agreed. It made his blood boil.

Stuffing his hands into his jacket, Sam began the short walk back to the motel. A part of him wondered if Dean was right, they had only met once and it was for barely ten minutes before she was off again. But so much more of him wondered why she was gone, why they had never seen her before or even heard of her. She was a great hunter so why did no one call her for backup.

With his head down and lost in his thoughts, the tall hunter didn’t notice the familiar truck parked in the spot by his shared room until he almost walked right into it.

The tip of his boots stopped right before the back tire as he gazed at the vehicle in amazement. She was here. His eyes darted along the row of rooms, searching for any indication of where she might be. His pulse sped up as he finally caught a whiff of her dizzying scent.

His heart jumped as he realised that it was coming from the room right next to his, a coincidence that he would be eternally grateful for. Warmth bloomed from his chest as he cautiously raised his hand and knocked on the ancient looking door.

There was a shuffling from the other side and then slowly, the door creaked open. Sam groaned softly as a fresh wave of her scent washed over him. It was raw and overpowering and immediately went to his cock.

Her eyes were bleary with exhaustion as she looked at the alpha on her doorstep. “Sam?” His chest rumbled with a pleased sound at the way she said his name. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m in the room next door.” His eyes wandered down the length of her curvy body which was now only covered by an oversized shirt and some fluffy socks. One of her hands nervously tugged on the hem of the shirt in an attempt to cover more of her naked thighs.

She shuffled her feet nervously as if contemplating something before she stepped to the side. “You can come in if you want.”

There was not an ounce of hesitation in Sam’s mind as he stepped into her room. His chest puffed out in pride at being allowed to enter the omega’s space. She followed behind him after locking the door but still kept her distance. She was obviously wary of him and for the life of him, Sam couldn’t understand why.

An awkward silence settled over the pair, neither one of them knowing how to begin the conversation. She avoided making eye contact as the slightly older hunter forced himself to stop looking at her thick thighs.

“Why-“ “I-“ They both spoke at the same time. Y/N laughed softly under her breath and Sam watched as she finally relaxed, taking a seat at the edge of her bed. His own smile began to grow and took the liberty of sitting opposite her on the arm of the couch.

The room was so small that their knees were barely inches away from each other but neither wanted to move any further away. “Bobby said you had asked about me.” She said bluntly if not a little bashfully. A blush spread across Sam’s face and suddenly he felt incredibly small.

“Yeah I did.” He admitted. “I was curious about you.”

She tilted her head in confusion. “Why?”

Taking a deep breath, he rested his elbows onto his knees, making himself as small as he could. “You just… captured me, I’ve never met a hunter like you before and I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I wanted to know more.” She sat straight up as her eyes narrowed.

“You wanted to know how an omega could hunt.” She snarled.

“No! No, you being an omega has nothing to do with it. I asked Bobby because well, I couldn’t believe how clever you were. I mean come on, blessed blood? I don’t think anyone else has come up with that idea. You took out that whole nest by yourself!” He rushed to defend himself. He laid a large palm onto her knee as if that could drive his point home but all it really did was make his mind go blank except for the thought of just how soft her skin was.

Sam expected her to lurch from his touch but to his surprise, Y/N nudged her knee even closer to him, albeit slightly warily. “It wasn’t the whole nest.” She muttered shyly with her head tilted downwards, exposing her collar. Sam’s alpha grumbled happily at the submission but he swallowed the noise down, not wanting to make her uncomfortable.

“Even if it wasn’t, we- I would have been dead without you and that’s why I wanted to find you, to learn about you because I wanted to thank you and maybe, get to know you a bit more.” The expression on her face grew more pensive as she looked into his eyes.

“You don’t care that I’m an omega?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that I don’t care about that, but that part has nothing to do with you hunting.” His fingers curled into her flesh, sending a fresh wave of her scent through the room. “You being an omega is far from a detriment in my eyes.” His voice dropped lower, becoming husky and laced with arousal.

Her thighs squeezed together, trapping his hand between her warm legs. Sam leaned forward even more, their foreheads almost touching. He watched as her gaze flicked to his lips. “You can’t mean that.” She whispered but it was directed at herself, as if she were trying to remind herself of something.

With his free hand, the alpha gently brushed his fingertips along her jaw before his palm settled against the soft swell of her cheek. “You’ll be like all the other alphas out there.” But still, she leaned closer, resting her forehead against his.

“I promise I’m not.” Her fingers tentatively worked their way into the buttons of his flannel and Sam’s heart skipped a beat. The silence that fell between them now was far from uncomfortable. Y/N took in a deep breath, swallowing down the alpha’s scent before she groaned quietly.

“You wouldn’t stop an omega from hunting?” Sam shook his head. “You wouldn’t force them to be subservient?”

“Never.” He vowed as his lips brushed against her cupid’s bow. Her chest hitched.

“What about claiming?” Sam’s hand skirted higher up her legs until the calloused tips of his fingers disappeared beneath her night shirt. Heat radiated from her core as slick soaked through her thin panties.

Sam was almost delirious with lust and apparently, Y/N was the same. Her pupils were blown wide, the blackness consuming the natural colour of her irises. “Hypothetically?” She nodded, knowing that this conversation was veering into far from hypothetical. “Only when they’re ready, and I will be fine if they never are.”

She smiled widely and just as she leaned forwards to kiss him, there came a pounding on the door. “Sam!! You in there?!” At the sound of Dean’s voice, she threw herself back as if she were a child getting caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

Sam actually whined as his hands were ripped from her skin. “Yeah Dean.” He growled, quickly standing and shielding her half-naked body through the door was still firmly shut.

“Sheriffs just found another body, we gotta move.” Y/N sat up on the bed, her interest now focused on the case.

“Was it the pawn shop owner’s wife?” She piped up.

There was a pause and then, “Y/N? Damn Sammy, you need an extra 10 minutes? Cause we definitely have time if you do.”

“Dean.” Sam warned, but the omega’s soft touch upon his hand stopped him in his tracks.

Y/N’s eyes blazed with a fire he had never seen before as she lifted herself from the now crumpled bed sheets. Her gaze was hard and firmly set upon the door as if she could see right through it to the idiotic alpha outside. Sam watched as the omega melted away and was replaced by the hardened hunter.

“Go. I’ll catch up with you two later. I have something to take care of.” Sam’s heart dropped to his stomach and he opened his mouth to protest, to insist that she come with them. Not because he thought she needed any sort of protection but that he didn’t think he could bear to be away from her for even a second. But then her glare settled on him.

He tried to turn his wrist to capture her hand in his but she pulled back from him quickly. “You should stay here, where you’re safe.”

He would never admit to it, but Sam cowered, shrinking in upon himself as Y/N’s lip turned downwards. “Go.” She snarled and before he could even comprehend what her sudden change in demeanour meant, Sam was out the door and his alpha howled with shame.

She rejected him and he had no clue how to fix it.

——————

Somehow, through the incredibly awkward tension and the less-than-perfect hunt, all three of the young hunters now found themselves in Bobby’s living room, a heavy air between them.

Y/N nursed a beer and a slightly swollen cheek as well as the angriest look on her face. Even Dean cringed away from her line of sight like a little boy escaping a scolding. “Any of you wanna tell me exactly what happened out there?”

Bobby shoved an ice pack into her awaiting hand before leaning against the desk at the far end of the room. “Just bone-headed alphas getting in my way.” She snarled and took a pull of her drink, her scent now bitter like stale coffee.

“Y/N, now’s not the time.” Bobby sighed, his head dropping between his shoulders. The omega turned her glare to him but he did not falter away like the boys did. “Hunts are always gonna be tough but you gotta work with the cards you’re dealt with and trust your partners. And these boys are the best you could ask for, alphas or not.”

Her growl echoed through the room before she slammed her beer down and stormed off. A bedroom door slammed shut soon after, rocking the foundations of the house. “That girl.” Bobby muttered, shaking his head mournfully.

Sam looked up the stairs longingly, part of him wanting to follow after her but also knowing that doing so might only worsen the already rocky relationship between them.

“What is her deal anyway?” Dean sat forward on the couch, planting his elbows onto his knees. Bobby’s hand curled around his tumbler of whisky, knuckles turning pale.

“You boys weren’t the only ones to grow up under the thumb of an obsessed hunter but the only difference between you is, she had both parents. Both alphas, both life-long hunters, and both believed that omegas were beneath them in every way. She was bait.”

Sam and Dean sucked in a breath, they both knew what that meant. Omegas would be stripped of all weapons or protective symbols and then sent into bars that vampires frequented or told to go for a walk in the woods where werewolf dens were. Their scent was the sweetest and the most appetising. Most of the time, the omega would make it out with minimal injuries but there were some hunters out there who would let whatever monster they were tracking down have a little treat before killing them.

“She got smart, learned how to gank monsters using whatever she could find and yet her parents took all the credit. They got lazy, letting her do the hunt while they went to go drink or do whatever the fuck else besides trying to protect their daughter. And one day, when she was recovering from a witch’s curse, they decided to get the hunt done themselves. They were slow and stupid. Y/N found them two days later, completely ripped apart. She’s been hunting alone ever since.”

“Shit.” Dean leaned back on the couch, running a hand through his cropped hair. “I figured she was just bitter about an ex or something. I- Sam!” The youngest Winchester sprang to his feet and before anyone could stop him, he pounded up the stairs and threw open her bedroom door.

Y/N sat against the headboard, eyes squeezed shut and chest heaving with barely controlled panic. Sam didn’t hesitate to yank her into his arms, forcing her face into the crook of his neck as he held her tightly. She thrashed against him, her warning snarls only ceasing when she finally inhaled his scent.

Tentatively, she placed her hands on his muscular back as Sam’s arms tightened around her shoulders, his head resting on top of her own. “You don’t need to worry anymore, omega. I’m right here.” Sam pressed his lips to the crown of her head, giving her a gentle kiss. “No one will ever hurt you again, not while I’m around.”

Her soft body slowly relaxed into him and the alpha could feel the weight being eased from her shoulders. “You can’t know that, it’s an impossible promise to make.”

Sam’s left hand slid up the soft curve of her arm, his fingertips gently brushing along her neck before settling on her jaw. He tilted her head up just enough so that she could meet his hazel eyes. His gaze flickered over her face, settling on her lips for a moment too long before finally looking longingly into her wide eyes.

“Because I will do everything in my power to keep you safe, happy and loved, no matter what.” Her breath hitched and for a moment, doubt crept into Sam’s mind. “Because you deserve so much more than what life has given you and I want to fix that.” He rushed to add on, hoping that she would not reject him once more.

But then, Y/N rocked forward and captured his lips in the best kiss of Sam’s life.

The world blurred around them as their lips danced together. Sam could taste the beer she had drunk but also something else- something that was just her. His hand fell to her neck making her moan loudly into his mouth as his thumb accidentally brushed against the raised skin of her scent gland.

His knees buckled as her scent suddenly filled through the room, emptying his mind of everything except her. Her nails dug into his back, the kiss quickly became something more.

“Wait wait wait.” Sam reluctantly ripped himself from her but she wasn’t letting go that easily. She pulled him back into another kiss which he was barely able to pull away from. “Wait babygirl. Are you sure you want to go any further?” His right hand, which she now realised was low on her back, the tips of his fingers brushed against the swell of her ass, pressed her further into his toned stomach.

Y/N whined trying to chase his lips but a warning growl from Sam had her obediently silent. “I need a clear answer, omega.” He raised an eyebrow at her.

“Please, I want you, all of you.” She managed to get out through the heavy lump of arousal in her throat. Sam smirked, his alpha preening at her desperation and her acceptance that he was hers. Yet he still did not kiss her again. Part of him wished for her to beg, to scream and cry for him after her rejection.

His thumb pressed down onto her scent gland, immediately making her eyes grow hazy. “Then prove it.”

Her hands flew to his belt buckle, trembling almost violently as she struggled to open it and gain access to what she was craving. She growled in frustration, ripping the leather apart Y/N was finally able to pull his dark jeans down enough for his cock to spring free, unburdened by any boxers.

Sam could barely hold back a groan as she moaned loudly at the sight of him. Her eyes flicked to his but quickly returned to the long and thick cock just a hair’s breadth away. The old hardwood groaned with the impact of her knees as she dropped in front of him. “Omega-“ He tried to say but suddenly her mouth was on him.

A saltiness exploded on her tongue as Y/N licked up his tip, lapping at the pre-cum that was already gathered there. She mewled, eager for more of the alpha in her mouth. Her lips pulled tighter with each inch she swallowed down, her jaw already beginning to ache even though she had barely taken half of him down her throat.

Sam’s hands balled into fists, his knuckles paling with the force. He watched with bated breath as the omega’s eyes hardened and she forced down even more of his cock. “Babygirl- fuck- slow down.” Now he was the one begging but she refused to listen.

She pulled back slightly, just enough that the fat head of his cock rested on the back of her tongue and then she pressed forwards again, now able to brush the tip of her nose against the groomed thatch of hair on the base of his pelvis. Sam threw his head back and moaned loudly, his cock already throbbing with the edge of ecstasy.

“Omega stop.” Her movements ceased but he was still deep down her throat. Her eyes were wide with a questioning gaze, the colour of her irises completely swallowed up by her pupils. The room was thick with their scent, and had he been in the right mind, Sam would wonder if the two men downstairs could smell them.

Delicately, he cupped her hollowed out cheeks and dragged her from his cock. She whined in protest as she was ripped away from him and Sam couldn’t help but chuckle. “So good for me, so perfect. Can I take care of you now?” He cooed, rubbing his thumbs across the apple of her cheeks.

Her eyelids fluttered and she nodded enthusiastically.

She went limp in his arms as Sam pulled her to his feet, letting him guide her soft body back onto the creaky mattress easily. She bounced once, her tits jumping towards her chin with the movement though they were still confined by her bra.

Sam’s plaid slipped over his head quickly, followed by his undershirt, leaving him completely bare to the omega who was still fully dressed. Her thick thighs pressed together under the weight of his gaze, needing any sort of friction against her core or she felt she would go mad.

His touch was hot, even through the thick denim of her jeans, as he slowly crawled up the length of her body, absentmindedly kissing the little flashes of skin where her shirt had risen on her stomach, her wrists, her collarbone until he finally reached her lips once more.

He gripped a plump thigh in one hand, the other holding his huge body above her as they lazily kissed. His hips settled against hers, immediately fanning the flames of desire between the two. She wiggled beneath him, fingers desperately pulling at the buttons of her own flannel, bumping into his hard chest with each unsuccessful attempt.

Sam let his hand drift from her thigh to the button of her jeans, popping it open with a calm ease that made her omega preen. Long fingers slid into her pants, immediately finding her panties completely soaked through with slick. As soon as his rough fingertips brushed against her covered clit, Y/N threw her head back and howled, her hips canting up to chase his touch.

With her neck now exposed, his lips found their way to her hot skin, nipping and sucking as his fingers pushed her panties to the side. Nails dug into the strong muscles of his back as he gently traced the length of her. “So wet for me. I’ll make you feel so good, omega.”

Before she could even take a breath, her pants were ripped down her legs along with her panties and discarded across the room. Sam’s eyes were fixated on the apex of her thighs, hungrily licking his lips at the sight of her laid out before him.

Without any warning, he dove in as if he could no longer stop himself. Pleasure shot up her spine in a way she had never before experienced. Sam nosed at her clit, groaning happily as more slick poured from her. He tried to be gentle at first, to ease his way into her but as soon as she clenched tightly around his tongue, Sam knew that there was no going back, that he would do this every day, multiple times a day if it were up to him, for the rest of their lives.

“Sam!” She cried, her hips bucking from the bed, making the old bed springs scream in protest with the sudden movement. Sam growled into her cunt, the vibrations sending a mind-numbing spark through her body, and grabbed her wide hips to keep her pinned down. Now unable to escape his mouth, Y/N was forced to feel every stroke of his tongue and each flick of his large nose against her clit. It was overwhelming, overpowering and tortuous in all the best ways.

The edges of her mind were beginning to go fuzzy just as small black dots grew in her vision. She grabbed at his hands, their fingers intertwined as she held them to her covered chest, desperate for more of the alpha’s touch like she could never get enough of him. Sam’s head bobbed with each furious thrust of his tongue, lapping up everything she was giving him. Her chest heaved as she struggled to breathe. Her body strung tight with her impending release but still it did not cum.

She lifted her head from the pillows and opened her mouth to beg the alpha to cum but instead, she saw how he was nestled between her thighs, his own body tightly pressed to the bed sheets as his lean hips rolled down. He was humping the bed, furiously so, all because of her taste.

The omega shattered in his arms, her orgasm washing over her like nothing before. She was silent only for a moment, too washed out in pleasure to make a sound but then, she screamed. Her cum coated his tongue and Sam couldn’t stop his own orgasm from slamming into him- her sounds, her taste, her warmth, it was all too much for him and the alpha spilled himself onto the moth-eaten duvet cover.

“Alpha.” She sobbed, her soft arms reaching out to him. “Wan your knot!” Part of Sam winced at her tears but his alpha was howling in pride at leaving the omega a desperate puddle of lust and need for him. He wrapped her up in a comforting embrace, twisting both their bodies so that she could lay mostly on top of him.

“Shhh omega. You will get it, but not today.” She stiffened in his hold but he was quick to reassure her.

“I want to earn it, your trust and your mark.” He smiled and kissed her softly, cupping her jaw in one massive hand. “Let me work for it, please.”

Her shy smile knocked the breath from his lungs, her eyes shining with the beginnings of love. “Yeah okay.” Sam relaxed back into the bed, deliriously happy as Y/N laid her head on his bare chest, hand over the heart that beat only for her.

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tasteless-lemonade · 6 months

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but when does a comet become a meteor -> little scott growing into cyclops leader of the xmen

when does a candle become a blaze -> jean grey having little telepathic powers to her being an omega level mutant and the Phoenix

when does a man become a monster -> logan being tortured into weapon x

when does a ripple become a tidal wave -> ororo's little wind powers evolving into the goddess-level powers

when does the reason become the blame -> max eisenhardt turning into magneto after witnessing it all

when does a man become a monster -> warren worthington loses his wings and becomes archangel

#scott summers #cyclops #jean grey #ororo munroe #storm #logan howlett #wolverine #weapon x #max eisenhardt #magneto #warren worthington iii #archangel #x men comics

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etaleah · 9 months

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I’ve been thinking a lot about Shadow’s characterizations in the Project: Shadow fan film, SA2, Archie, Heroes, ‘06, Prime, and Murder of Sonic the Hedgehog and why they’re all considered among the best. And I’ve been thinking about his characterizations in IDW and Boom, how they’re considered among the worst, and how much they clash with the other portrayals. I think I’ve hit upon the number one quality that Shadow needs to have to be written well.

Loyalty.

I’ll explain below the cut.

The best Shadow is one who is loyal to someone or something. Maybe he’s not always loyal to the right someone or something, but he is loyal nonetheless. It’s a core part of his character. He is ride or die to the very end for whatever friend or cause he cares about. Shadow is always ready to kill or be killed for whatever or whoever matters to him most; it’s what sets him apart from the others. The others have limits on their loyalty. Sonic will help you out, but he’s not gonna kill a man for you. Shadow will. He doesn’t have that limit. If you are Shadow’s friend and you need him to kill for you, he will do it. Period.

Here’s a recap of Shadow’s loyalty:

In SA2 and the fan film, it’s to Maria, and to a lesser extent, Gerald.

In Heroes and ‘06, it’s to Team Dark.

In Archie, it’s to Team Dark, Hope Kintobor, and Commander Tower. Sometimes it’s even to his own values like when he goes against Rouge to help Blaze in Treasure Team Tango.

In Sonic X, it’s to Maria and later Molly. Maybe even to the universe, given that he’s ready to kill Cosmo to save it.

In Prime, it’s to Green Hill. And later on, Shadow is also loyal to Sonic despite the latter driving him crazy.

In Murder of Sonic the Hedgehog, it’s to Amy.

And in his own game, Shadow can be loyal to Maria, Sonic and friends, Eggman (up to a point), Black Doom, or even Earth itself. Not all of those folks are worth his loyalty, but the fact is that Shadow still cares about fighting by their side. That key element of his personality remains.

And that’s what’s missing in Boom and IDW. Because in those, he isn’t loyal to anything. He isn’t ride or die for anyone. At least, not that we can tell. When you remove Shadow’s faithfulness to those he loves, you remove a lot of what makes him who he is and all that’s left is an edgy aesthetic that soon wears out its welcome because there isn’t anything to supplement it. And this is made worse by the fact that they’re never allowed to bring up or expand his backstory, so they can’t ever talk about why he’s like this.

I guess you could make the argument that Shadow is loyal to the world in IDW since he helps save it a few times, but he’s so mean and heartless to everyone in the world that it feels less like he’s fighting to protect other people and more like he’s just trying to save his own house so he still has a place to live. I mean, if he won’t help Rouge when she’s been kidnapped by Starline and he won’t help Omega when the latter has been smashed to bits and he won’t help the Chao get out of their cage and he actually has to be talked into saving a village from an avalanche and he seems to really dislike/be annoyed by everyone he comes into contact with…what exactly is he saving the Earth for?? It can’t be for the people living in it. He hates them. He doesn’t care if they need his help. So the only conclusion I can draw is that he’s just doing it to save his own skin. The only person Shadow shows even the slightest bit of loyalty to is himself.

And that makes him unrecognizable from the Shadow we know and love.

His loyalty is his greatest virtue, even when it’s misguided. Let him keep it.

#sth #shadow the hedgehog #shadow meta #my thoughts #sonic the hedgehog #maria robotnik #space colony ark #sonic games #sonic comics #sonic idw #sonic archie #sonic prime #sonic 06 #team dark #project: shadow fan film

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generic-sonic-fan · 4 months

Text

Blaze x Omega headcanons

Omega's used to using his dictionary banks to flex but when Blaze unironically uses the word "ignoramus" to describe Eggman he falls in love right then and there.

They love competing, and I mean LOVE competing. Omega is, y'know, and Blaze is a competitive motherfucker who normally doesn't get to jeer or taunt at her opponents but with Omega she knows she can never go to far. They shit-talk each other the entire time. It's one of their love languages I promise.

(When they have to hide their relationship they disguise themselves as Shonen-style rivals lol)

Blaze can bend the flames from Omega's flamethrowers to make them more powerful. It's easier for her to intensify his flames than it is to crank up her own flames to that level, so it's a fantastic combo.

Omega! is! so! interested! in how her flames work!!! He's taking all sorts of measurements all of the time and encouraging her to test out her limits in a way she never was before. "YOU CAN PRODUCE FLAME FROM YOUR PALMS, BUT CAN YOU EXHALE THEM FROM YOUR MOUTH? WHAT ABOUT SHOOTING THEM LIKE LASERS FROM YOUR EYES?"

(After a lot of practice and encouragement, she figured out how to breathe fire like a dragon and he thought it was the coolest fucking thing!!)

She loves hearing her after-battle stats from him. It's another one of their love languages <3

And off the battlefield, she just really enjoys his attention to detail. There's so many small things that he catches on a day-to-day basis. "THIS IS THE THIRD TIME YOU HAVE TRIED THIS BLEND OF TEA" or "TOGETHER WE HAVE KNIT 3,687 STITCHES ACROSS ALL OUR PROJECTS THUS FAR."

She, meanwhile, isn't quite as vocal or exact with her attention to detail. Mostly, she likes giving gifts, but only on the down low. She'll leave his favorite brand of polish on his desk for him to use, even though he normally insists that he "HAS NO PREFERENCE". She'll grab a pretty rock that he found but refused to take with him because he has "AN IMAGE TO MAINTAIN" and sneak it to him after the mission.

Rouge opens the closet in Omega's room because she's trying to find the vacuum and out spills a veritable shrine of little trinkets and doodads he's collected from Blaze. Action figures and collectable keychains in the shapes of tanks or missiles and all of the other things that catch his attention but that he'd never buy for himself because he "DOESN'T NEED IT".

I know I've been writing fluffy headcanons about what they like about each other, but do not get me wrong- they are terrible at saying out loud what they love in each other. They don't verbalize it very often. It's more of a comfortable silence between them.

Okay I lied about the silence part- there's a LOT of infodumping in this relationship. Blaze knows so much more about weapons than she expected and Omega knows more about tea and her favorite books than he knows what to do with. Love language :)

They don't dance but they do spar with enough accuracy and artistry that it's an art form in and of itself.

They cannot stand each other's taste in movies.

But they are willing to exchange music recommends to get outside of their comfort zones. Blaze has discovered that screaming along with Linkin Park is oddly therapeutic. Omega has discovered that Sol jazz has all sorts of funky time signatures that are fun to decipher, even if it is a little slow for his tastes.

#blaze the cat #e-123 omega #e 123 omega #blaze x omega #omegaze #your honor: hear me out

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captainsarahscratches · 8 months

Note

Can we get some head cannons with Kenny omega x younger gf reader. Like reader is 27 and AEW womens champ. Something about protective Kenny

Kenny constantly hears jokes about him babysitting his girl, but he doesn't care because he's happier than he's ever been

You constantly hear comments from the other girls that you only have the title because you fuck the EVP.

Kenny hates these comments and wants to put them in their place but you calm him down and tell him it doesn't bother you. It does, but you tell him otherwise, because deep down you know he didn't have anything to do with your title.

They make jokes about him robbing the cradle, and you having daddy issues. But the two of you just laugh along, because you both know it's nothing of the nature. You two just click, and in your industry, with your scheduleds, it's rare when two people understand each other and blend the way you and Kenny do.

Kenny trains with you and it brings a smile to your face because to you it's like getting paid to be with your favorite person.

He loves it because he gets to be close to you and share something that he loves with the one he loves, even though he hasn't told you yet.

He tends to get a little more handsy when he's training with youm but you never seem to mind.

To throw him off his game, you tend to whisper "harder, daddy" when he has you in a choke hold. This gets him flustered, and gives you a n opportunity to counter him when he wasn't intending that to happen. He can't help but be a little proud when you pull that one.

When you go home, Kenny always makes sure you get into your apartment safely, but on days you've been teasing him in the ring. He tends to stay a little longer.

At your fridge you bend over to grab a cold bottle of water, and you feel him behind you. His waist against yours, his hands tracing up your back and into your hair.

"What baby, I thought you said harder?" you cant help but moan in delight, "Oh still not hard enough?" he says as he smack your ass.

In seconds, your legs are wrapped around his waist as he carries you to the edge of your own bed. Throwing you roughly onto the mattress.

"You think you can be a tease all damn day and think I'm not going to do anything about it, huh? You're lucky I didn't fuck you right there in front of everyone in the gym. Let them all see how good of a little slut you can be."

You giggle, knowing you're getting under his skin, "yeah, and then prove to him that i really am the old man's good little girl." The growl that leaves him sets you a blaze, and you don;'t even have time to react as he pounds into your body. Not a care towards your own pleasure, just his own release. but you didn't care, because the animalistic fucking he's giving you brings you over the edge twice over before he even begins to unravel inside you.

"Fuck, FUCK Y/N God damnit your going to make me cum!"

"Cum for me daddy, please. I need it Kenny I need you to-"

"FUCKKK" He floods your body as he continues to thrust inside you until he can't take it any longer.

Rolling over onto the opposite side of the bed, You rolling to meet him, head on his chest.

"God babe, fuck. I love when you let me take over like that." " I love it too."

"I love you, too" he said, kissing your forehead.

You pick up your head look him the eye, he looks nervous, not meaning to let that slip in this setting. He searches your face for a hint of anger, or remorse.

You grin uncontrollably, kissing him deeply. Rolling ontop of him, straddling his lap. "I love you too, Kenny."

He smiles, and kisses you passionately. Flipping you over onto your back, his cock hard against your body again, his mouth firmly on your neck.

Trailing kisses up to your ear, in a low gravely voice

"Let's see how many times, this 'old man' can make you cum in a day. What's my record again, five? Child's play, you better cancel whatever you had planned this week. You won't be able to walk anywhere"

#kenny omega #aew fanfiction #kenny omega smut #kenny omega x reader #the elite #bullet club #aew imagine #kenny omega imagine #aew #aew smut

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holylulusworld · 1 year

Text

Kinktober vs Flufftober 2023

Like in 2019, 2020, 2021 & 2022, I will post a kinky, fluffy, angsty or scary one-shot from October 1st till October 31st, 2023.

Please consider none of the stories are available until the set release date. Titles may change (all titles are working titles until the release date.). The release date may change at any time.

ANGST/SMUT/FLUFF

October 1st: Forbidden Lust (2) sequel to Forbidden Lust

Pairing: Stepdad!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Kink: Homewrecker kink

Requested by: @jayyyyyyy-stuff

October 2nd: Rekindle

Pairing: Chubby!Thor Odinson x Exgirlfriend!Reader

Trope: Reunion

October 3rd: Very tight places sequel to Cramped & Tight places

Pairing: Soulless!Sam x fem!Reader

Kink: Claustrophilia

October 4th: Footloose

Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x fem!Reader

Trope: Enemies to lovers

October 5th: Serve your Soldier

Pairing: Soldier Boy x fem!Reader

Kink: Collars

October 6th: Falling leaves

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Trope: Sunny vs grumpy

October 7th: Blaze of glory

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Kink: Glad-to-Be-Alive Sex/Victory sex

October 8th: Two Bikes (1)

Pairing: Jax Teller x fem!Reader; Biker!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Trope: Angst

October 9th: Golden Retriever

Pairing: Jake Jensen x Reader

Kink: Crops / Spanking

Idea by: anon

October 10th: One autumn night

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x Omega!Reader

Trope: a/b/o

Idea by: anon

October 11th: I'm the best

Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader

Kink: Breeding kink

Idea by: anon

October 12th: Breathless sequel to Take my breath away

Pairing: CEO!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Trope: Secret crush

October 13th: One Summer night

Pairing: Cultleader!Thor Odinson

Kink: Sex Cult

October 14th: Snuggle time

Pairing: Lee Bodecker x Plussized!Reader

Trope: Cuddling & snuggling

Idea by: anon

October 15th: The cabin in the woods

Pairing: Winter Soldier x fem!Reader

Kink/Trope: Choking

October 16th: Not in my car

Pairing: Sam Winchester x fem!Reader

Trope: Love confessions

Requested by: @dawn-petrichor-world

October 17th: Backpack

Pairing: Jax Teller x fem!Reader

Kink: Thigh riding

Idea by: @dawn-petrichor-world

October 18th: Sex you up

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Chubby!Reader

Kink: Size kink

Idea by: @sultryfandoms

October 19th: Fulfilment

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Trope: Pregnancy

Idea by: @elle14-blog1

October 20th: Triad (1)

Pairing: Omega!Stucky x Alpha!Reader

Kink: Dom / Sub

Idea by: anon

October 21st: Autumnal love

Pairing: Thor Odinson x fem!Reader

Trope: Carving pumpkins

Idea by: anon

October 22nd: Unwanted Mate (Bucky's version)

Pairing: Alpha!Stucky x Omega!Reader

Kink: Threesome

October 23rd: Rescue you

Pairing: Jax Teller x fem!Reader

Trope: Rescue romance

Idea by: @dawn-petrichor-world

October 24th: Right there

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Kink: Pegging

Idea by: @flory-alexandra

October 25th: Deepest love

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Trope: Friends to lovers

Idea by: @elle14-blog1

October 26th: Demon knife

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Trope: Friends to enemies

October 27th: Sunrise sequel to Beyond the soldier & After the eclipse

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Kink/Trope: Quirofilia/Nursed Back to Health

Requested by: @clarinette07

October 28th: Naughty School Adventures (1)

Pairing: Janitor!Sam Winchester x Teacher!Reader x Gymteacher!Dean Winchester

Kink: Cucking

Idea by: @moosekateer13

October 29th: Unwanted Mate (Steve's version)

Pairing: Alpha!Steve x Omega!Reader

Trope: Unrequited feelings

October 30th: Taped on video

Pairing: J3 x fem!Reader

Kink: BDSM

Requested by @moosekateer13

Halloween Specials: ANGST/SMUT/HORROR

October 31st: The past always catches up

Pairing: Winter Soldier x former Hydra!(fem) Reader

Trope: Villain Reader

October 31st: Dreams of sharp teeth

Pairing: Werewolf!Walter Marshall x fem!Reader x Werewolf!August Walker

Trope: Monster AU

Find all other Bingos and Special Events here: Special Events

#dean winchester #sam winchester #steve rogers #bucky barnes #marvel #supernatural #kinktober 2023 #flufftober 2023 #angstober 2023

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thesightstoshowyou · 11 months

Text

Hot as a Summer Revival

Alpha!Thomas Hewitt x Omega!F Reader (NSFW)

Summary: You meet a helpful stranger when you least expect it.

Warnings: A/B/O AU, blood, predator/prey if you squint, noncon I guess because of heat but reader is très enthousiastique, virgin!Tommy, he doesn’t let a little bit of premature ejaculation stop him, creampies, knotting

Your shoulders burn. Blazing sunlight radiates down on you from a cloudless sky and sears your exposed skin. Sweat pours down your back and drenches your shirt, sticking it to the heavy backpack you carry. Your shoes kick up dust with each laborious step.

You hope the trucker that kicked you out in the middle of this wasteland dies in a fiery crash.

“More trouble than you’re worth,” he’d spat before slamming the door shut and speeding off. Your jaw clenches at the memory.

It’s your own fault, really.

Your scent-killing soap had run out a few days prior. You’d risked hitchhiking, desperate, and luckily a beta had picked you up. But, as the day grew warmer and you started to sweat, there was no more hiding.

Sure, times are changing. People become more and more progressive each year, but there are still plenty who look down on omegas. To them, you’ll never be anything more than lower class breeding stock.

You shake your head. No point dwelling on things you can’t change. Focus on what you can control, like figuring out where the hell you are.

Dry grass rustles in a hot breeze. The wind brings no relief, just the scents of parched earth, desert willow, white oak, and some dead thing rotting in the oppressive heat. There’s a whole lot of nothing as far as the eye can see. You’re somewhere in west Texas, you’re almost certain, but you haven’t seen another car or building or road sign for miles….

Watery eyes, irritated by dust and blinding sun, squint to focus. Through the heat simmering off the road you spot it: A fading green sign in the distance. You shuffle a little faster and allow yourself to hope for nearby civilization.

Fuller - 3 Miles

The name doesn’t ring any bells, but if there’s even one gas station, you’ll be happy. Your pack kicks up more dirt when it crashes to then ground. Digging through the pockets, you find your water bottle. Stale, lukewarm water wets your dry throat as you rest your sweaty back against the sign post.

As you catch your breath and sip, you begin to notice a new sensation. A new discomfort. Warmth prickles under your skin, the barest hint of a tingle you hardly register until you focus. Then there’s the tug deep in your gut, the promise of a future hunger no food or drink can satisfy. The sweat dripping from your body begins to change and take on a new scent, one that fills the air around you until the breeze carries it away.

A calling card.

No. No, no, no, not now! It’s too early, isn’t it? You push away from the sign post, water within the bottle sloshing with your trembling. Frantically, you attempt to count back the weeks and realize you don’t even know what day it is.

More time has passed than you thought.

Running a hand through your hair, you suck in a breath to steady yourself. What will you do now? You can’t go to town, not until your heat passes. And with this wind, every alpha in the vicinity is going to smell you.

Think. Wildly, you look around you, ignoring that accursed burn settling between your thighs. There, up ahead: A grove of trees. You have a tent and sleeping bag in your backpack. You’ll hide for a few days and ride this out.

Grunting, you heave your pack back onto your sunburned shoulders and trudge down the road once again.

This is going to fucking suck.

Everything is sticky; your hair clings to your dewy brow, your sleeping bag adheres to your sweaty skin, and the slick coating your thighs glues your legs together. Inside, you burn with need. Every nerve ending is alight, overly sensitive. Even the gentle breeze billowing through your tent makes you pant and squirm.

The maddening ache demands relief. You rip off your soaked shorts and fling them away. Pushing your damp panties to the side, you hump your hand, all thoughts of dignity replaced by an animalistic craving. There is only want, only desperation.

It’s not enough.

Your scent fills the tent, nearly suffocating. Repeatedly inhaling the smell of your want is going to drive you insane. You need air!

“Fuck,” you whimper, weakly pushing to your knees. Trembling, feverish, you crawl to the tent entrance, unzip the mesh screen, and tumble out into the dirt. Sucking in lungfuls of fresh air clears your fuzzy head, if only a little.

As you lay still and breathe, you listen to the nighttime melodies. Crickets chirp, frogs croak, mocking birds call for mates. Leaves rustle in a soft wind. Rodents scurry through the undergrowth. It begins to sound like a lullaby—

CRACK

With a jolt, you sit upright. A branch had broken somewhere in the thicket behind your tent. Your ears strain, eyes darting around, searching the darkness. A full moon shines overhead, but the canopy above obscures the light it offers. Trees and shrubs take on monstrous form in the gloom, their twisted branches like spindly arms, reaching for you.

Rustling to your left now. Your heart slams against your ribs. Foliage crunches under heavy boots. Moonlight illuminates a hulking shadow slinking between the trees.

Something massive stalks through the brush just out of sight.

Rooted to the ground, you shake like a leaf in the wind. You’re so weak; fight will be out of the question. Flight is only option that remains.

You won’t make it far, though.

As you silently panic and weigh your escape options, a shadowy figure steps into the clearing. They are huge, well over six feet. You can’t make out any features, backlit as they are by the moonlight.

Sudden terror gives you a burst of strength and you stagger to your feet. You launch yourself into the trees, a weak cry leaving your throat when thunderous footfalls give chase Fear forces you into a sprint, makes you ignore the pain in your bare feet when they split open and bleed on fallen branches.

Your stumbling makes a racket, gasping breaths and crashing feet a cacophony in the quiet forest. Trees race past, but it isn’t long until helplessness seeps back into your muscles. You slow, your trembling legs barely able to hold your weight.

Vines you can’t see in the dark ensnare your clumsy feet. You smash into the ground, pain blooming along your palms, knees, and behind your eyes. A tangy, metallic scent invades your nostrils. Stunned and disoriented, you wonder why your face feels wet. When you touch your upper lip, your fingers come away black. Your nose bleeds freely down your face, your blood inky black in the darkness.

Boots stomp behind you. Your pursuer is mere feet away. Heart leaping into your throat, you whip onto your back.

A man stands before you—a tall, broad shouldered, powerful man. His chest heaves, his deep breaths like a gale in the quiet grove. At his sides, his hands are balled into fists.

He takes a measured step closer and a swath of moonlight illuminates his face. You see dark, shoulder length hair, a furrowed brow, but what catches your attention is the leather mask he wears across the lower half of his face.

You’re about to wonder at its use, but then the wind changes.

His scent washes over you and every muscle in your body seizes. Fresh cut oak, sharp citrus, heady musk, and old blood assault your senses, his smell overpowering even the metallic scent of your bleeding nose. You’re struck dumb, frozen in place, mouth hanging open in shock.

Alpha.

Never have you been immobilized by the mere scent of an alpha. He hasn’t even spoken. No commands have left his mouth, yet you’ve already surrendered, submitted in every sense. Between your legs, you throb, slick gushing from your cunt and further drenching your underwear.

The alpha twitches and breaks free of the momentary trance that held the two of you. Slowly, he drops to his knees. There is conflict in his body language as he crawls to you, like he’s fighting the urge to pounce and tear you to shreds.

He’s trying not to scare you, trying to hold himself back.

But why?

A tremulous breath spills past your parted lips and your legs automatically fall open to accommodate the alpha’s huge frame. The shivering starts up again, your body combusting when he hovers over you.

His eyes meet yours; you can’t discern their color in the dark, but they watch you so intently, tracing every inch of your face. You go lax under his scrutiny, your head dropping back into the dirt and tipping to the side.

The alpha’s gaze darts to the exposed flesh of your neck, to your face, then back again. Hesitantly, he dips his head until his hair tickles your face and the leather of the mask drags up the column of your throat.

You groan at the touch, oversensitive skin prickling. Over and over, he inhales deeply, drowning himself in your scent. You whimper and arch, hips rolling so you grind up against him.

He startles at the contact, thick fingers flying to your hip to hold you still. A whimper leaves you and your nails rake impatiently through the dirt.

“P-Please, I…I need…I need…please h-help me,” you beg, your voice so pathetically weak and shaky, but you ache so deep, so intensely you can think of nothing else. Your legs burn with desire you can’t control. You are certain if you aren’t bred by this alpha now you will die.

The alpha’s own breaths tremble, mirroring the shaking of the hand on your hip. With a sharp inhale, his nails dig into the fabric of your panties, twist, and rip. You gasp and nod, near delirious with want.

He looks at you again, his eyes wide and wild. He’s teetering on the edge, seconds from losing composure. You stare back, pleading with your eyes, reassuring him, urging him on. In your chest, your frenzied heart hammers.

He swallow thickly. Sitting back, he fumbles with his trousers. You hear the clink of a belt, the pop of the button, the slide of the zipper. Hot, thick flesh rests on your mound as he leans forward and you keen at the feel.

Your hips tilt immediately, as though they have a mind of their own. Slick folds slide up and down the alpha’s girth; just this is nearly enough to make you cum. Finally, he makes a sound, like he’s choking on a groan.

Fingers trail along your inner thigh and hesitate before prodding your cunt. It’s tentative, his touch. Exploratory. Your lust-addled brain can’t fathom why he seems so unsure.

You suck in air through your teeth when his digits sink into slick warmth. He gives a few experimental thrusts, which elicit a sweet, little mewl from you. Your slippery walls squeeze his fingers, the wet slide audible even over your gasps.

Your sounds break his resolve. The alpha growls. He rips his fingers from your dripping hole and hastily guides his cock to your entrance. It takes a few tries before he finds it again, the tip of his cock running up and down between your lips until you sob in desperation.

All the air leaves your lungs when he slips inside, surges forward, and buries every thick inch deep in your cunt. Your hands fly to his shoulders, fingers twisting in the fabric of his shirt when you immediately climax, the relief of finally being filled shoving you over the threshold into ecstasy.

The alpha utters a strangled groan as he grips your waist, his shoulders tensing under your hands. You feel it then, the spreading warmth of his seed. He came with you?

But oh, he’s still hard as stone within you. Trembling with barely contained desire, he gives an experimental buck of his hips. Your teeth sink into your lip, your cry muffed behind your teeth.

He leans down over you, buries his face in the crook of your neck so you can whisper in his ear, “P-Please don’t s-stop, please, please I need-need you, it’s…it hurts….”

You don’t finish, the rest of your words lost in a shriek when the alpha slams into you. His thrusts are uncoordinated and sloppy, but you help, raising your hips to meet his until he matches your rhythm.

The forest soon echoes with your pleasure; his strained groans, your high moans, the rustle of foliage under your back and the wet smack of flesh. You nuzzle your face into his own neck, the alpha’s powerful scent making you dizzy. All thoughts are replaced with sensation, your only focus the feeling of the cock battering your insides.

The heat raging in your belly turns scorching. You feel the alpha’s knot beginning to swell and a possessive urge takes over, making your wrap your legs around his hips. You’ve never needed anything more in your life, you’re certain.

When you reach the precipice once again, you don’t have the presence of mind to warn him, but you’re sure he can feel it in the way your slick muscles clench around his length. With a rumbling moan, he shoves his knot into your spasming channel and you scream, eyes rolling back, every muscle pulled taut in blinding euphoria.

Panting, heart thrumming, sweat beading along your brow, you gradually return to earth. Your fingers ache from gripping the alpha so tightly. With difficulty, you pry them from his shirt. Your quivering legs slip off his sides and fall bonelessly to the ground.

The knot seated within you and the spend filling you work to quell the unchecked desire racing through your veins, if only for a little while. The heat will soon return with fervor.

With climax comes clarity, the needy haze in your mind lifting and making way for rational thought. Two things become immediately apparent: One, you have just been bred by absolute stranger, an alpha who had found you in the middle of the forest. Your scent must have drawn him, but where did he come from? You don’t even know his name, for fuck’s sake.

And two: This alpha is a virgin. Or rather, he used to be. The hesitance, the fumbling, the immediate release when he’d entered you…. In the moment, your want-driven mind couldn’t connect the dots.

You let your head fall back. The alpha’s eyes meet yours, but quickly look away again. Is that shame, you see? Fear? Again, you wonder why he wears the mask.

Tentatively, you reach up and push the sweaty hair off his brow. Your fingertips trace the side of his face, your palm coming to rest on his masked cheek. Cautiously, he lifts his gaze to yours.

You clear your throat and murmur, “Um, hi.” You tell him your name and ask, “Can…can you, um, talk?” The man shakes his head and looks away. You nod and gently press his cheek to get his eyes back on you.

“It’s okay. Maybe…maybe you could write your name down for me? When…you know, when we can….” you trail off with a breathy laugh. You feel his cheek grow warm under your fingertips.

One of the alpha’s hands leaves your hip. He brings a finger to the exposed skin under your collarbone. Deliberately, he begins to trace and you realize he’s spelling out his name.

T-H-O-M-A-S

“Thomas?” He nods and you swear you feel his face briefly lift in a grin. You smile back. “Well, Thomas, um. Thank you for helping me, but it’s…uh, it’s gonna get bad here in a minute again so….” As you speak, you feel his knot begin to shrink. You talk faster, “So, I know my scent right now is…how hard it is to think when you’re…so if you want to get away, now might be a good—

You bite your lip when a deluge of cum spills down your ass to drip into the dirt. A whiny moan crawls up your throat. You want to curse the way your core pulses, your insides just beginning to smolder.

Thomas inhales deeply. You know your pores are leaking hunger yet again. Before you can speak, the world lurches.

Thomas grasps you around the middle and flips onto your front. Impatiently, he lifts your hips up, hard cock grinding against your slit. He’s bolder this time, more sure of himself when he buries his girth deep in your guts.

Now, at least you have a name to scream.

#thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x reader #thomas hewitt x you #the texas chainsaw massacre #tcm the beginning #texas chainsaw massacre the beginning #leatherface #leatherface x reader #thesightstoshowyou #this took FOREVER #the words weren’t wording #I hope it’s okay

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evansbby · 2 years

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𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐲'𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐞𝐬 {𝐩𝐨𝐲𝐭 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞}

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

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut, noncon, dubcon, daddy!kink, hardcore misogyny, degradation, possessive Steve, inebriation, mentions of alcohol. MINORS, DNI.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Steve throws a Halloween party and you try your hardest to be the perfect little host. {happy spooky szn, everyone!! this poyt drabble is a halloween special, set after Steve mated with Omega, and has no effect to the plot/main story of preying on you tonight}

“What the fuck is this?”

The abrupt sound of Steve’s voice makes your blood run cold, the orange and black crepe paper slipping from your hands and dropping to the floor.

“Steve, I… uh.” Daring to meet his heated gaze, your heart pitter-patters pathetically and you immediately avert your eyes, staring at the ground and fingers fidgeting nervously.

“Hi, Steve!” Natasha says brightly, giving the alpha a huge smile. She’s sat cross-legged next to you, sorting through a bunch of sparkly jack-o-lantern wall stickers that she’d brought over with her. You’re both on the floor in Steve’s and your bedroom, sorting through various party decorations.

He glowers at her before turning back to you, “What’s she doing here?”

“She’s… she’s just…” It’s not an ideal moment for your stutter to flare up, but Steve looks so annoyed. And you knew he’d be like this the moment Natasha showed up at your doorstep with a peppy smile and a bunch of Halloween decorations in her arms, matching the ones you’d bought just this morning.

Steve, Bucky and Sam were hosting a Halloween party tonight. Steve had only just informed you yesterday, and in the early hours of the morning, while Steve was at football practice, you’d gone to the nearby party shop to stock up on decorations. Because parties needed decorations, right? And the three alphas hadn’t really done much to spruce up the place. In fact, you’d spent the majority of the afternoon vacuuming and cleaning the downstairs area before Natasha had shown up to help you.

“We’re making streamers, duh.” Natasha blinks up at Steve innocently, but her nonchalance seems to wind him up even more.

“Omega.” Steve gives you a stern look, and immediately you stand up, scurrying over to him. He puts a heavy arm around your shoulders, crushing you into his chest. “You know you’re not allowed to have people over.”

You’re about to apologise before Natasha pipes up.

“Relax, Steve. I came over unannounced. Thor told me about the party and I thought she could use some help since I doubt that you’ll be doing any decorating.”

Steve doesn’t even look at her, but you can see his eyes flashing with annoyance. And you know why he’s mad too. Steve likes to have you ready and waiting for him on his bed when he comes home all riled up from football practice. Carnal, sweaty, amped up and filled with testosterone and pent-up aggression, he usually fucks you hard and fast when he gets home, before dragging you to the shower for more sex. But he can’t quite do any of that with Natasha here.

“I’m sorry.” You say quietly.

“You don’t have anything to apologise for.” Natasha says from across the room, making Steve glare at her with blazing eyes. If looks could kill…

“Maybe you should keep your mouth shut and just observe.” He jeers, “Learn how a well-trained omega is supposed to act around an alpha.” He tightens his grip on you, making a show of reaching down to squeeze your ass. You yelp helplessly, wishing he wouldn’t do that in front of her.

“Congratulations, Steve. You run such a strict regime that she’s literally afraid of you.” Natasha rolls her eyes, her voice dripping in sarcasm. But she bites her lip and shoots you an apologetic look when she sees you wince.

You know Natasha’s dynamic with Thor – her alpha boyfriend – is a lot different from you and Steve. You’ve seen her make fun of him, roll her eyes at him, and even raise her voice at him. You could never do any of that with Steve – but was it that obvious that you were afraid of him?

“I’m gonna go put the streamers up downstairs.” Natasha says, quickly getting to her feet and skipping over to the door. She turns back to pointedly look at you, ignoring Steve, “You can join me later and help me with the balloons.”

The door has only just closed behind her and Steve’s already dragging you to the bed, sitting down with his muscular thighs spread, and pulling you onto his lap.

“What is all this?” He gestures at the decorations strewn about on the floor.

You squirm, “I just thought that we’d need some decorations for your party. But I can tell Natasha to take them down if you don’t like them.”

He frowns, “Did you buy all this yourself?”

“Yes.”

“How many times have I told you to use my card when you’re buying things?” He grips your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tugging upwards till you’re looking at him.

“I…I have my own money, Steve.” Well, not much of it ever since he made you quite your job. But your bank balance never decreased, seeing as Steve paid for literally everything for you; from your food to your clothes to your shoes and everything in between.

He doesn’t answer, instead reaching into his pocket for his phone and tapping away. Not ten seconds later, you feel your own phone vibrate.

Steve R. transferred you $200

Your eyes widen, “The decorations didn’t cost that much–”

You’re interrupted by his lips pressing down on yours, large hands cradling your face gently as he kisses you. And if you could replay it every time he kissed you, just replay it in slow-motion, you would do it a hundred times over. It’s insane how the butterflies erupt in the depths of your tummy as he draws you closer still, his tongue swiping against your bottom lip.

“An omega is not meant to pay for anything – it’s the responsibility of her alpha to take care of her.” He says against your lips before pecking you a few more times, “But it’s pretty cute, you know. You going on a little grocery run for the party.”

You nod, “I tried to think of everything we’d need. I’ve never hosted a party before so I wasn’t sure.” You pause, “Sorry, I know I’m not hosting this party. It’s your party.” You shake your head, averting your gaze from his because looking at him too long makes you all nervous and squirmy.

“I – uh – I got all kinds of decorations from the Halloween section – like streamers and balloons and whatnot. Natasha got some too.” You try not to get distracted by his finger sensually tracing shapes on your thigh. “I also got snacks. Like chips and popcorn and soda. I was also going to bake cupcakes with orange and black frosting but I didn’t have time. I’m sorry. But I got store-bought ones that look pretty good.”

Steve stares at you for a prolonged period of time during which about a million concerns surface inside your head. Had you done too much? Had you not done enough? But you breathe a sigh of relief when he leans down to cover your face in kisses, his lips sponging from the corner of your mouth before dipping down to nip at your jaw and finally finding their place on his mark on your neck.

“Look at you, running errands like a perfect little housewife.” Steve pinches your cheek condescendingly, “I always knew you were such a good little omega, baby. I’m proud of you.”

Proud. You glow at his praise, subconsciously nuzzling your cheek against the warm palm of his hand, chirping happily when he strokes you. It’s insane how much his praise and approval means to you, with the omega inside of you bursting with joy at the fact that you’ve pleased your alpha. You always want to please him. You want to make him even more proud.

“I also bought some party games,” You add shyly, hoping he’ll approve. “There’s a pin-the-hat-on-the-witch and there’s also bobbing for apples, and–”

Your voice cuts off when you hear what sounds like a suppressed laugh. Glancing up at Steve, you see the corner of his mouth quirk upward, and a sparkle in his eye. Immediately, you shut your mouth, heat rising in your cheeks and heart wilting. Was he laughing at you?

“On second thought, the games sound babyish. I’m sorry.” You mumble, mentally kicking yourself at even bringing it up. It didn’t help that the last time you’d been to a Halloween party was back when you were in elementary school.

“I’d like to see you bob for apples,” He teases, reaching down to squeeze your ass. But he says nothing more about it, continuing to make out with you until you’re both unceremoniously interrupted by Natasha’s bellowing voice carrying from downstairs.

“COULD SOMEONE PLEASE HELP ME, I CAN’T REACH HIGH ENOUGH TO STICK THE STREAMERS!”

“She’s a fucking pain in the ass,” Steve says darkly, “Nothing but trouble. If I gave more of a fuck, I’d speak to Thor about keeping her in check. But it’s a good thing he hasn’t marked her – she’s a cheap whore anyways. Nothing like you, baby. And I don’t want you getting influenced by her bullshit.”

“She was just helping me.” You say softly, wanting to add that Natasha’s the first and only person at this university who’s actually been nice to you and treated you like an equal.

“I don’t care, omega. She’s not setting a good example for you and you’re not allowed to hang out with her anymore, do I make myself clear?”

It’s horrifically unfair, but Steve’s scent is so overpowering, so persuading in making you listen to him. And so you nod, hoping that maybe later he’d come around. You don’t want to lose Natasha as a friend. As pathetic as it sounds, she’s kind of your only friend.

“Good girl. Now get on your knees. I’ve had a long day and it’d be good to unwind before the party tonight.”

“But Steve, I gotta decorate–”

The look on his face is enough to get you scrambling down to your knees in record time. And it’s a little later, when he’s got a death grip in your hair and your mouth suckling on his balls while his heavy dick rests on your face, that he asks you casually, “What’s your costume going to be?”

You come up for air, breathing hard and trying to ignore the throbbing between your legs. “Oh, it’s – uh – it’s a surprise.” Even you don’t know what your costume is yet because Natasha had taken it upon herself to provide one for you. She’d said all would be revealed tonight, and a costume was the least of your worries.

Steve – surprisingly – doesn’t question this, instead guiding your head back down on his cock, bobbing it up and down and throwing his head back, a low hiss escaping his lips.

“Whatever. Just remember to check with me beforehand. I need to approve of whatever you’re wearing before anyone else sees it, you got that?”

“Yes, daddy.”

***

The party is in full swing, and it’s wilder than you anticipated. Thor walks in with about a dozen sixpacks in tow, with Natasha squealing and jumping on him as soon as he enters. Bucky and Sam have invited what looks to be more than half of the female population at the university, all of them scantily-clad and surrounding the two alphas, hanging off their arms in costumes ranging from sexy kittens to sexy cowgirls to sexy nurses.

Your own costume is prettier than you anticipated; a light pink satin slip dress – almost like lingerie – that flows yet clings to your body in a flattering way. Glittery pink fairy wings are attached to your back, small enough to not get in the way of anything but big enough that one could appreciate the swirling design. See-through nude stockings adorn your legs, complete with lacy trimmed tops accented with ribbons. Dainty glass heels cover your feet, and your makeup’s minimal and glowy, with a lot of body glitter added everywhere. You don’t know how Natasha’s managed to create such a pretty costume for you – but she’s a fashion major after all.

“Steve doesn’t deserve you in this outfit.” Natasha had commented earlier when you’d tried it on, “But that doesn’t mean he won’t go crazy over it.”

And Steve had gone crazy over it, inspecting each and every angle while you stood in the middle of the room like a piece of meat at the butcher’s shop. He couldn’t help but squeeze your ass, fondle your breasts, tug your dress up to “check what panties you were wearing” as well as a lot of other things. Finally, he’d resorted to dragging you to the bed, pushing you down on your hands and knees, flipping your dress up and fucking you right then and there.

“M-My costume– it’s gonna get ruined!” You’d cried, but to no avail.

“Fuck, my little baby omega, think you can dress up like some sexy fucking fairy and your daddy won’t fuck you in your little costume, huh?” He’d said through gritted teeth, grabbing your flimsy little wings and pushing them to the side so he could press down on your back. “The only way you can be seen in this outfit is if you looked freshly fucked – so everyone knows exactly who your daddy is, you got that?”

Now your wings were permanently crooked and you had a slight limp in your step, but at least Steve had allowed you to wear the fairy outfit to the party downstairs. Granted, he had his arm around you the whole time, showing you off obnoxiously like you were some kind of shiny object.

“Isn’t she cute, Barber? You should’ve seen her earlier, trying to put up the decorations but she was too little to reach.”

“She cooks, she cleans, and she looks like a million bucks. Can’t say the same about your omega, huh, Curtis?”

“Don’t fucking look at my girlfriend, Jensen. Who even invited you, anyways? Get the fuck out of my sight. Go bob for apples or some shit.”

You sigh, watching poor Jake Jensen’s face fall as he retreats to the corner of the room where the crate of apples is situated all on its lonesome. No one else is really indulging in your party games; in fact, you’d seen someone rip the pin-the-hat-on-the-witch clean in half – which wasn’t nice at all.

On top of that, your Halloween cupcakes were currently mush on the ground, someone had stepped and trodden on them, which made you sad. Even your punch – which you had so painstakingly mixed until it was perfect – tasted kind of funny. You were on your second cup, hoping that you were just imagining the bitter taste of the drink.

“Steve, this tastes funny,” You mumble softly, tugging at your boyfriend’s sleeve. For his Halloween costume, he was just wearing his football jersey and claiming to be a “football player.” Less than minimum effort, but a bunch of girls had gushed and squealed, telling him how good he looked. Steve had ignored them, but that didn’t stop the omega inside of you going green with a strong sense of jealous territorialism.

Even Steve Junior’s costume was more creative than Steve’s. You’d had a black and white striped shirt that had shrank in the wash, and to your glee, it fit your stuffed teddy perfectly.

“He’s a convict!” You’d told Steve proudly, earlier after he’d finished fucking you and you were sitting there trying to catch your breath and straighten your fairy wings, and the alpha had snorted, grabbing the teddy by the neck.

“Oh yeah? What’d he get arrested for? Watching us fuck?”

“No!” You’d answered, completely appalled.

Steve had laughed, easily keeping the stuffie out of your reach when you’d lunged to grab it, “You’re a little pervert, aren’t you, Steve Junior?” And Steve Junior’s coal black eyes had only stared blankly at Steve before you’d snatched him back.

At least now, the stuffie was safe upstairs in the bedroom. The same couldn’t be said about you, however, downstairs in the midst of a party that only seemed to be getting wilder. You’re on Steve’s lap, his hand laid down on your bare thigh possessively as he downs a beer and laughs at whatever he and his friends are talking about. How they can talk when the music is so pulsating and loud is beyond you.

“Shhh, baby, just drink your punch.” He says, pressing a kiss on your lips before continuing his conversation.

You pout, “But it doesn’t taste right–”

Your quiet complaint is drowned out by the noise of the party and you sigh, feeling slightly dizzy as you try to reposition yourself on Steve’s lap. But that only makes your alpha growl lowly, gripping you tighter and thrusting his hips up against your ass – right in front of everyone, no less! Normally, you would’ve begged him not to do that but right now you feel weirdly slow and sluggish… and kind of horny. Wait, what?

“Stop fidgeting or else I’m gonna have to fuck you right here in front of everyone.” Steve whispers in your ear through gritted teeth.

“Sorry, daddy, didn’t mean to!” You cry not-so-softly, trying to grab on to his leg to steady yourself before realisation hits you like a bucket of icy cold water dumped unceremoniously onto your head. Did you just call him “daddy” right here? Out in the open? In front of everyone?

There’s a moment of silence, and then…

“Oh, so you’re daddy huh?” Andy barks out a laugh, nudging Steve.

Sam rolls his eyes, “I’ve heard worse. I keep telling him the walls are thin.”

“Look at her now, trying to hide under her daddy’s jersey!” Ransom hoots with laughter, making you freeze in the middle of trying to tug the sleeve of Steve’s jersey over your face.

“Stop looking at my girlfriend, Drysdale.” Steve shoots back, but he looks smugger than ever, clearly unperturbed by your little slip-up as he smooths your hair back condescendingly. You feel absolutely mortified – what the hell is wrong with you? Why do you feel so disoriented and less in control of yourself??

You take another large gulp of your punch before standing up.

“Bathroom.” You tell Steve before stumbling off, thanking your lucky stars when he doesn’t pull you back.

All around you, there’s bodies dancing to the pulsating music, and you try to dodge them but it proves to be difficult in your disoriented state. Suddenly, the bathroom seems so far away, when you remember it being only about a few steps outside of the living room. There are too many people, too much noise, too much chaos. You can’t even hear your heartbeat thanks to the thumping music, and you feel the sudden need to go back to Steve and his protective warmth.

Turning back, you see Natasha and Thor have joined Steve’s group. Thor’s wearing some kind of Norse God costume (as he’d excitedly told you when he’d first walked in) and Natasha looks amazing in her cheerleading outfit, the colours of her costume matching Steve’s football jersey.

“They’ve fucked, you know.”

You jump at the voice in your ear and the hand that presses down against the small of your back. A flash of light blue eyes and the flurry of a black cape. It’s Bucky, dressed up as Count Dracula, complete with fake blood dripping down the side of his mouth. For a split-second, you’re reminded of the night Steve had marked you; his bite, the blood, the pain…

You blink stupidly, “What?”

“Steve and Natasha. He’s fucked her.” Bucky smirks, his hand still on your back, stroking up and down but you’ve yet to register it, “What, Steve didn’t tell you? I thought he or Nat would have… seeing as she’s now your friend and all…”

Now it feels like your head is spinning, and you sway slightly in your heels, unwittingly gripping Bucky’s arm to steady yourself. You glance back at Steve, who’s too busy laughing with his friends while Natasha looks at him in disgust, shaking her head and grabbing Thor’s hand.

You know it shouldn’t affect you, that it must have been from before you and Steve had got together… But why hadn’t Steve told you? Why hadn’t Natasha told you? Face crumpling, you back away even further, feeling like the world’s biggest idiot.

“Hey, you don’t look too good. Why don’t you come into my room and lie down for a second. Steve won’t mind.” Bucky tries to grab your wrist but you slip out of his grip, turning on your heel and stumbling towards the bathroom, trying not to get swallowed up by the sea of writhing bodies.

You don’t know how long you sit in the bathroom, on the toilet seat with your head in your hands. But Steve finds you there after a while, coming in and locking the door behind him.

“Did you die in here? It’s been twenty minutes.”

You sigh, but say nothing else. Steve doesn’t seem to like that, however, grabbing your wrist and yanking you up to your feet and tapping your cheek lightly, “I expect you to answer me when I’m talking to you.”

“I’m not having fun.” You say softly, wanting Steve Junior except he’s upstairs and going upstairs right now seems like an impossible feat of physical and mental strength.

“Oh yeah?” Steve eyes you up and down, licking his lips when his gaze zeroes in on one of your dress straps slipping down your shoulder. “You wanna fuck?”

“All the decorations are torn and ruined, my fairy wings are crooked, nobody’s playing bob for apples or pin-the-tale-on-the-bitch – I mean witch – and no one ate the cupcakes and…and…and,” you hiccup, choking back a sob, “and my punch tasted weird! I hate this party an’ I hate Halloween!”

Steve cups your face between his hands, tipping it upwards and surveying you carefully before a smirk spreads across his features. “You’re drunk.”

“Wha–”

“Mmhm, I think someone might have spiked the punch. Your pupils are completely dilated.”

Cold terror courses through you, and you grip his hands which are holding your face, “D-Don’t wanna be drunk, Steve! Don’t like being drunk!”

He snorts, “Relax. A little buzz won’t hurt you. And anyways,” He shoots you a devilish smirk, backing you up until your back hits the marble sink, and he picks you up and places you on top of it, stepping between your spread legs. “Baby omegas like you tend to get horny when they’re drunk. Good thing your daddy’s here to help you out with that…”

“No!” You cry, and it’s something you never would’ve done if you were sober, “don’t want to, Steve! You slept with Natasha!”

Steve, who’s in the middle of pushing your straps down your arms and kissing up your neck, stops short, regarding you carefully, “Who told you that?”

For the life of you, you can’t seem to remember. Who had told you? Everything seems foggy, but Steve hasn’t denied it, so you soldier on: “Don’t remember who told me, but...but…but, you–”

“Yeah, I did.” Steve cuts you off, before flipping your dress up and bunching it around your waist, his hand going straight between your legs as his lips return to your neck, lapping against your jagged mark. You gasp – either at what he’s said or the feel of his fingers ripping your panties in half, you’re not sure.

“Mm, you’re so fucking hot, baby,” Steve murmurs against your skin, almost as if he hasn’t just confessed to doing exactly what you accused him of. His thumb and forefinger pinch your clit and you jump, “My little baby fairy, all drunk and innocent, waiting for daddy to take care of you, huh?”

“Steve,” you whine, not wanting to fall victim to his expert touch, how he knows your body so well. Pushing your dress down and exposing your breasts, his mouth immediately latches on to your nipple, and you resist the urge to moan, “Steve, please! You… you and Nat… you–”

Steve groans in exasperation, giving your nipple a hearty suck before lifting his head back up, looking half bored and half annoyed. “It’s not that serious, omega. It happened years ago, just forget it.”

You pout and he sighs.

“It was freshman year, okay? I barely remember fucking her. Bucky fucked her too. And Sam. In fact, she’s gone through the entire football team. I told you she’s a cheap whore – nothing like you – and this is why.”

Your mouth drops open, even in your drunken state, you don’t like how he’s talking about her.

“You’re my perfect little baby, all pure and innocent,” Steve coos, pinching your cheek before kissing you, pressing his leg between your thighs and grinding it forward, making you gasp and grab hold of his strong arms. “This is why you’re different from them, omega. In your cute little fairy dress while the rest of those sluts out there are dressed like trashy whores.”

You hate how he’s talking, hate how horrifically misogynistic him and his friends all are. Because your dress is practically lingerie – you’re just as scantily clad as the other girls at the party. But his scent is distracting you, as is the alcohol pumping in your system, making you needy, making your carnal want for him amplify times ten.

“Gonna fuck you in your little fairy dress again, baby.” Steve informs you, turning you around abruptly and giving your bare ass a harsh slap. Your poor panties lie ripped up somewhere on the floor, but that’s the least of your concerns as Steve pushes you down till you’re lying flat on the sink top, your ass in the air and Steve’s dick in his hand.

“Can’t get enough of you in this little get-up. And I just know all the guys are so fucking jealous. They all wanna fuck you, but they can’t. Only I get to see you like this. My baby omega, bent over and getting fucked like it’s your job.” He gives your ass another harsh slap before entering you, and you gasp, gripping onto the counter, all the drunken worries slowly dissipating as your head goes empty when you feel his fat dick against your tight walls.

“Look at you, head’s already going empty, huh?”

“Mm, daddy,” you mewl.

“That’s right, forget about everything else. You did so good, omega, planning your first Halloween party. You made me so proud, baby, so you can stop thinking now. Daddy’s gonna take good care of you.”

THE END! I know that was kind of an abrupt ending but trust me, i had to end it somewhere otherwise i would’ve kept going! i was just in the mood to write something on theme for october for this pairing, so there we go! PLEASE, please, please do let me know what you think! Feedback is so so SO appreciated!! Also, POYT 4 is coming very soon, i’m almost done with it! i just love writing poyt drabbles sometimes too! Please let me know what you think, and i hope you enjoyed! thank you!

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers #chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #poyt drabble

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