#especially since neither of them could ever even make her break a sweat in a fight. nor do i imagine she’d even Want to fight them.

[wickedghxst]

i wouldn’t even want it bc the less i have to see of jason or damian the better, but it’s absolutely insane that they haven’t utilized cass for a story with either of them.

[steddieasitgoes]

Pulling triple duty with this one.

Written for @steddiemas Day 29: Holiday Parties and @thefreakandthehair Spicy Six Winter Fanworks Challenge. It's also a holiday sequel to my big bang fic Signed, Sealed Delivered, I'm Yours

My prompt for the Winter Fanworks Challenge was: “If I wear that sweater to work, my boss will kill me."

Tags: Established relationships, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, Mailman Steve, Platonic Soulmate Steve Harrington & Robin Buckley, Slice of Life

wc: 4003 | Rating: T

Read on ao3 | ao3 collection

The Brookbridge Post Office holiday party is a tradition that dates back long before Steve joined the ranks. Every year Warren splurges on renting out a private room at a restaurant or banquet hall before passing all the planning off to his assistant of the month. The only rule, as far as Steve’s aware, is that it has to be tied to some charity organization so that he can write the whole thing off later.

This year is no different as the invitation he finds shoved into his work locker has the Toys for Tots logo front and center. What is different is the attire section that requests all guests break out their best holiday sweaters for the occasion.

Steve’s not sure what constitutes a holiday sweater, but he has a closet full of knit red and green ones that’ll surely work. No sweat off his back. Especially since he’s also done with the toy shopping.

The holiday party isn’t Steve’s favorite way to spend a random Saturday in December, but he always sucks it up and goes. Usually drags Robin along with him so they can stand in the corner getting drunk off free drinks while making fun of Tommy and his gang of mini-me’s as they try to hit on everyone’s plus ones.

It’s not the highlight of their holiday season by any means, but it's a tradition they’ve had going for years now. One he’s not sure he wants to break this year even though he could take Eddie as his romantic plus one. Which is exactly what he tells Robin during their Saturday movie marathon.

They’re sprawled out on the couch, Dumpster between them, with Christmas Vacation playing in the background. They’ve seen it enough times to quote the entire thing from memory so neither minds the interruption. It’s not like they ever actually watch movies on their Saturday movie afternoons anyway.

“Are you kidding me, Steve?” Robin snorts, lobbing a pillow at his head. “Of course, you’re taking Eddie!”

“But we always go together.”

“Only because you never have a date!”

“So, what? You’ve been going all these years as my pity plus one?” Steve asks, nudging her with his knee.

“I’m sorry, did you think I liked hanging out in some stuffy banquet hall listening to Hagan and his little groupies try to hit on me?”

“Don’t forget the year Warren hit on you.” Robin retches, startling Dumpster from her slumber. The cat yawns before slowly climbing off the couch and down the hallway in search of somewhere quieter to sleep.

“Take Eddie. It’ll be fun!”

“Don’t you think two months of dating is too soon to be taking him to work events?”

This time it’s Robin’s bony knee that jabs into the meaty flesh of his thigh.“Jesus, Robs,” he hisses, pulling the hem of his shorts up to check for instant bruising.

“You’re dumber than I thought if you really think you and Eddie have only been dating for two months. What about all those months before, huh?” Steve doesn’t say anything, just rolls his eyes in silent protest. She’s not wrong, but she’s not right either. “Besides, it’s not like he hasn’t already met some of the people from work when he goes to the post office.”

“I mean, yeah, I guess you’re right,” Steve sighs. Still, there’s something lingering in the pit of his stomach. A gnawing, unpleasant weight that he can’t shake. He takes a moment to collect his thoughts before he brings a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Tommy’s going to be there, though.”

The same Tommy who has been a Grade-A douchebag since getting removed from Steve’s route and put back on sorter/greeter duty. Steve’s not sure why he doesn’t just quit if he’s so miserable but every day he finds himself on the receiving end of a lackluster death glare.

Also, the same Tommy who gave Eddie the nickname “Mr. Dreamy.” The same Tommy who relentlessly hit on Eddie until he finally got thrown out of his house once and for all.

The same Tommy who has no idea that the guy Steve is seeing, because yes, Tommy knows Steve is seeing someone and teases him about it daily, is said, Mr. Dreamy.

Bringing Eddie into that is a recipe for disaster. One Steve’s not sure he even wants to subject himself to, let alone Eddie.

“On second thought,” Robin says, scrambling to sit up. “Can you take two guests? I will suffer the gross gazes and bad pick-up lines of your male coworkers just so I can see Hagan’s face fall when he realizes you’re dating the guy he was after.”

Steve laughs despite himself, shaking his head. If there’s one thing Robin loves, it’s being a fly on the wall for some good, old-fashioned drama.

📬 🎄 📬

With Robin officially denying his plus-one invitation, Steve sets out to ask Eddie.

It’s not a big deal in the grand scheme of things, he knows this, but something about it also feels like a Big Deal — with a capital B and D. Sure, they’ve branched out from their routine lunch dates — they have a standing Sunday brunch double date with the girls and make a point to go out at least once during the week, plus Steve regularly stops by the shop now, but it's different inviting Eddie to go to a work event with him.

It’s another step in their relationship.

One toward a more permanent future and Steve doesn’t want to fuck it up by scaring Eddie away.

So he spends a week testing the waters. Asks Eddie about his holiday plans over Toasty Treats’ legendary holiday turkey sandwich on Tuesday. Brings up Tommy’s latest fuck up over chili leftovers on Thursday to gage Eddie’s feelings about him (“Jesus H. Christ he really is an idiot,” he laughs, clearly poking fun, but not in the teasing way he does with Steve that always makes his cheeks heat up). During brunch on Sunday, he goads Robin into sharing a fun anecdote from last year's party where one too many cocktails had her and Steve taking over the karaoke machine serenading guests all night with off-key renditions of Christmas carols.

When Steve steals a glance at Eddie he finds him smiling and laughing along with the story.

And just like that the seed is planted.

Steve finally gets the courage to ask the question he’s been dancing around for a week on Tuesday over leftover Chinese takeout.

“Course I’ll be your plus-one, Stevie,” Eddie answers mouthful of Chow-Mien. “I’ll be your plus-one anytime, anywhere, any—”

“Alright, you sap,” Steve laughs, leaning over the table to steal a kiss.

“Does this mean I’m finally going to see the back room where the mail sorter fairies work?”

“Unfortunately not. The party’s at the banquet hall in town.”

“Dammit,” Eddie sighs.

“Oh, and you have to wear a Christmas sweater.”

“Love me a good theme!”

📬 🎄 📬

Turns out, what Steve considers a Christmas sweater is very different from what Eddie considers a Christmas sweater. A fact he’s currently in the midst of learning as he glances around Eddie’s bedroom.

“Stevie, sweetheart, love of my life,” Eddie says, clasping his hands in front of him as he rocks on the balls of his feet. “That is not a Christmas sweater.”

Steve glances down at the knit sweater he’s wearing before fisting the hem and pulling it away from his chest to get a better look. He’s not sure what Eddie’s talking about. It’s totally a Christmas sweater!

“Yeah it is, Eds,” he defends. “It has a reindeer and a tree on it. That’s pretty Christmas.”

Eddie gawks for a moment before scrubbing a hand down his face. Steve knows he only does that when he’s frustrated so he braces for whatever he’s going to say.

“Objectively speaking, yes, it is a Christmas sweater. But it’s also not a Christmas sweater.”

This time it’s Steve who gawks at Eddie. He’s used to Eddie getting worked up over random things, but this is a new one. “Okay Christmas Sweater expert, what is an appropriate Christmas sweater then.”

“I’m glad you asked,” Eddie grins before stalking over to the pile of clothes on his bed. He shuffles through the clothes for a moment, tossing a few shirts to the wayside before he shouts victoriously and turns around clutching a red sweater in his hands. “Now this is a Christmas sweater.”

Steve can’t help the cackle that escapes him the minute his eyes land on the sweater. It’s a red monstrosity with an upside-down snowman sprawled out over the entire thing. A plastic carrot of some sort protrudes off and hanhs low, blending with the tinsel on the hat and two blue ornament balls that also dangle low

“If I wear that sweater to work, my boss will kill me,” Steve says through laughter.

“Oh come on, it’s not that bad!”

“Eddie!” Steve squawks, brows knitted together. “It’s literally a dick and balls!”

“Warren is a buzz kill,” Eddie sighs, tossing the sweater aside. Without another word, he reaches for another sweater from the mess on his bed and turns around. “What about this one?”

This one is green with a gingerbread man smiling in the middle. It looks innocent enough except for the fact that the gingerbread has bloodshot eyes and the words “let’s get baked” are stitched in big white letters followed by a marijuana leaf.

“Are you trying to get me fired? Again!”

“Hey,” Eddie scolds playfully. “I didn’t get you fired, I got you demoted. And we agreed it was both our fault. Don’t be putting the blame on me! Besides I’m just sticking with the theme.”

“Baby, the theme is Christmas sweaters not whatever this is,” Steve says waving his hands in the air.

“These are Christmas sweaters.”

“I mean, yeah, they’re technically Christmas sweaters but they’re not appropriate!” Steve laughs. “Where did you even find them?”

“Are you forgetting I work with artists all day? Me and the guys make them.”

“You made these?” Steve asks, snatching the sweater from his hands to get a better look.

Up close it's easier to tell that they’re homemade. The stitches are slightly askew, a missing thread or two here and there. Overall though they’re store-like quality. He didn’t even know Eddie could sew let alone sew an entire inappropriate Christmas sweater. If the tattooing thing doesn’t work out, maybe he and the Hellfire guys should start a clothing line.

“That’s pretty impressive actually.”

“So, does that mean you’ll wear one?”

“To my work party? Absolutely not,” Steve laughs.

“Come on,” Eddie whines. “Nowhere on that invite does it say it has to be appropriate!”

“I’m pretty sure it’s implied! Maybe you can get away with that at the shop's holiday parties, but Brookbridge is full of stuck-up employees. Warren might be sleeping with his assistant but I don’t think he’ll appreciate this,” Steve says, lifting the gingerbread sweater.

“I guess that means I should change then.”

“Wait, you’re wearing one of these right now?” Eddie nods, coaxing another chuckle from Steve. “What does yours look like?”

“Thought you’d never ask.”

With eyes shining with mirth and that crooked smile, Steve loves so much, Eddie slowly peels off his leather jacket revealing the Christmas sweater he’s been wearing. It’s hunter-green and looks incredibly soft to the touch. Unfortunately, the words “Well Hung” are stitched in a bright green across the chest. Four baubles are stitched on underneath in various sizes trying their best to make the phrase Christmas-appropriate instead of the innuendo it is.

“Oh my god,” Steve wheezes, doubling over in laughter. It takes him a minute to compose himself and when he does Eddie is standing there beaming with pride. “S’clever and definitely true.” Eddie’s smile grows even wider at that. “But yeah, I think you should change, baby.”

“Ugh, you’re no fun,” Eddie groans.

“Hey, I’m plenty fun,” he says, quickly closing the distance between them. Steve gets his hands on Eddie, wrapping them around his middle and pulling him flush with his chest before searing a kiss to his lips. “But I don’t want to give Tommy any ideas. Don’t think he’d back off if he saw you advertising yourself like this.”

Eddie hums in consideration before reluctantly agreeing. Wiggling out of Steve’s grasp, he yanks the sweater off and tosses it onto the bed with the other rejected sweaters. Then, he sulks over to his closet to search for another sweater. A few minutes pass, nothing but the sounds of plastic hangers clanging against the metal rod filling the room before Eddie turns around with a huff.

“So, turns out I don’t have any appropriate Christmas sweaters.”

Steve laughs, shaking his head. “Don’t worry, I have a spare lying around. We’ll just stop by my place before heading over.”

📬 🎄 📬

They get intercepted by Debbie as they’re trying to leave, costing them an extra ten minutes they don’t have to spare. That added with the detour to Steve’s place and the inevitable quickie that follows when they realize Robin isn’t home makes them an hour late to the party.

But it’s not a big deal. Hardly anyone but Betty even realizes they’re late. And the only reason she notices is because she’s smoking outside the door when they get there.

“You clean up nice,” she says like she does every holiday party. Tossing the cigarette to the floor, she snubs it out with the toe of her boots before slowly dragging her eyes up Eddie. “You do too, Eddie, right?”

“Uh, yeah, I’m Eddie. And thank you, ma’am.”

Betty tsks, waving her hand in the air. “None of this ma’am crap. Just Betty is fine. Steve’s told me lots about you. Have you made a decision on that P.O. Box yet?”

Steve has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from snorting. That day doesn’t leave the best taste in his mouth considering how it ended, but it did start out with a lot of promise.

“Oh, uh, I don’t think it’s for me. S’much easier to have my mail delivered to me. Especially when he’s doing it.”

Betty glances at Steve and gives him another slow once over before winking at the both of them. “M’sure it is,” she laughs. “You boys better get in there. Don’t want to miss the fun.”

📬 🎄 📬

The banquet hall is decorated just as it always is. A giant Christmas tree sits in the middle. A handful of tables surround a small dance floor. There’s a buffet of food on one end, the donation table on the other. A small band is set up on stage, serenading the crowd with a mix of Top 40s and holiday hits. No karaoke machine this year much to Eddie’s chagrin.

After a round of drinks, Steve gets to mingling, introducing Eddie to the handful of coworkers he actually likes. The introductions are brief and his co-workers are quick to share embarrassing stories about Steve’s early days on the job with Eddie who listens and laughs along.

Eventually, Warren finds them, his wife draped lovingly on his arm while his assistant throws daggers his way from the bar. Steve puts on his best smile and expertly navigates the small talk, making a point to compliment Warren’s wife and joke about her being out of his league. Warren’s quick to excuse the both of them after that.

“He gives me the creeps,” Eddie shivers, watching as he guides his wife through the sea of people with a hand on the small of her back all the while making eyes with his assistant across the room.

“He’s definitely a douchebag,” Steve agrees.

He takes a sip of his drink as he scans the room. They’ve been here for almost two hours now and he hasn’t spotted Tommy once. Usually, he’s the center of attention at these things. Dancing up a storm and making it a point to flirt with everyone’s plus ones. Maybe he’s already staked his claim on someone and is getting lucky in the bathroom, Steve thinks before shaking the thought from his head. Who is he kidding, Tommy doesn’t have that kind of luck.

If he’s honest with himself, he’s sort of bummed that Tommy hasn’t made his presence known to him yet. Not because he wants to see him, he’d be happy going the rest of his life without having to share the same room with the guy, but because he wants to show Eddie off. And, okay, maybe he also wants to see Tommy’s face fall like Robin wanted to.

📬 🎄 📬

Steve is swaying with Eddie on the dance floor when the devil that is Tommy shithead Hagan finally materializes. He’s beyond tipsy, uneven on his feet, and freckled face flushed redder than Steve’s ever seen it. His eyes are glossy and his lips are curled in a way that sends alarm bells blaring in Steve’s head.

Trouble is afoot.

Afoot? Christ he’s spending too much time with Eddie.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Harrington.” He practically spits before whipping his head to stare at Eddie. “And oh, look what the postman dragged in. Yesterday’s mail!”

“I’m sorry,” Eddie says, taking a step toward Tommy. He gives Steve a mischievous look before cocking his head to the side as he gives Tommy his full attention. “Do I know you?”

“Oh don’t play coy in front of your little boy toy, darling,” Tommy slurs, reaching out to rest a hand on Eddie’s shoulder.

It takes all the strength in Steve’s body not to reach out and yank his arm away. Thankfully, Eddie does it for him, shrugging the offending hand off with more force than necessary.

“Oh come on,” Tommy scoffs, more of a whine than anything else. “Don’t pretend like we didn’t have the best times when Harrington got himself demoted. What’s it like getting my sloppy seconds, Harrington?”

“Watch it, Tommy,” Steve scolds, taking a step closer to Hagan. He’s not going to make a scene, he’s not. But he’s also not going to stand here and let him talk about Eddie like that.

Eddie scoffs, shaking his head. “If I’m anyone’s sloppy seconds I’m Steve’s. And they are very sloppy if you catch my drift.”

Steve bites the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. He knows he shouldn’t encourage this, but it's hard to be the bigger person when Tommy is standing right there purposely antagonizing him for his own gain. Sue him for wanting to play the game just a little.

“Sorry, Tommy, but Eds here is right,” Steve says, placing a delicate hand on Eddie’s shoulder before squeezing it. “Don’t you remember, I got demoted for hooking up with a “bombshell” in the van? Well, guess what, you’re looking at him.”

“That— that’s not what happened,” Tommy says, directing his words at Steve, not Eddie. “You weren’t with him! Aaron said you were with…”

Steve watches the metaphorical gears turning in Tommy’s head as he trails off. Can tell the moment things start clicking. He really had no clue that the guy Steve had been seeing was Eddie. Steve watches the stunned look spread across his face the same way it spread across his all those months ago when he caught Tommy leaving Eddie’s place. The gross realization that they actually do have the same type after all.

“Why don’t you keep moving Hagan,” Steve says, nodding his head in the opposite direction.

“Nah, I think I’m good right here, actually,” he says, confidence returning.

This guy just doesn’t know when to quit.

“Tommy seriously,” Steve tries again. “Go bother someone else. We’re not interested.”

“Oh, so you’re speaking for him now too?”

“Please,” Eddie scoffs. “You know I’m not interested in you. Never have been and never will be.”

That does it.

Steve sees the moment Tommy’s confident facade breaks. The rosiness of his cheeks grows into an angry red, flooding his body. His eyes, once glossy, are now laser-sharp and squinted. His fingers curl into fists at his side as he readies himself.

Steve’s faster though, stepping in front of Eddie at the same moment Tommy lunges. It would be easy to put an end to this once and for all. Give Tommy the gift of a black eye or bruised rib with one skilled punch that Steve would love to throw. But Tommy shithead Hagan isn’t worth losing his job for, so he reigns in his own anger and instead gets his palms on Tommy’s chest to hold him back.

“Don’t be stupid, Hagan,” Steve says. “Warren’s watching. Do you really want to lose your job for good this time?”

The words are supposed to knock some sense into the guy, calm him down. But it does the opposite, riling him up even more until Steve can practically feel his skin vibrating under his hands. Thankfully, Aaron and the rest of his minions are there in an instant, pulling him away and holding him back.

They try their best to calm him down but Steve can see Tommy’s anger growing by the second. He’s only seen him this angry once before — two months ago when Warren removed him from the route. He doesn’t need to see an encore performance so instead he reaches for Eddie’s hand and drags them away from the impending doom.

📬 🎄 📬

“Part of me still thinks you should have let him have it,” Eddie laughs, shoveling a mouthful of chocolate chip pancakes into his mouth.

“Tommy’s not worth it.”

“I would have been so pissed if I missed you deck him,” Robin says, working her way through her own mountain of pancakes.

“That’s the real reason you didn’t punch him, isn’t it?” Eddie teases.

“Oh yeah,” Steve deadpans, rolling his eyes. “Promised Robin I wouldn’t punch anyone unless she was there to witness it.”

“Does she also have to refrain from punching people,” Chrissy asks.

Robin shakes her head. “Why? Is there someone I need to punch in your honor?”

“Not yet,” Chrissy says, nuzzling into her side. “But if Eddie makes us go to the Birchwood Holiday party in these tonight, you might need to. Debbie’s nephew is in town and he keeps staring at me from the window.”

“Again with the sweaters,” Eddie huffs, letting his fork clatter to the table. “They’re cozy and hilarious. You guys are just boring! Besides, people are going to love my sweater. You’ll see. They’re going to be all the rage one day.”

“Debbie already thinks they are,” Chrissy giggles. “I saw her wearing the one that says “I’m So Good Santa Came Twice” the other day while she was taking out the trash.”

“You gave Debbie one?” Steve shouts, nearly spitting out his orange juice in the process. Robin does spit out her drink, through her nose as usual as she chokes on her own laughter.

“She cornered me and I panicked! I didn’t think she’d wear it!”

“Look on the bright side, Eddie,” Robin says between shrieks of laughter. “With Debbie’s help, every suburban mom in Brookbridge will be walking around in one by next Christmas.”

“It’s a good thing you know a great delivery man,” Steve teases. “Because they’re going to be flying off the shelves.”

“I’ve made a terrible mistake,” he groans.

As the table erupts into another fit of laughter, Steve can’t help but tug Eddie towards him before giving him a soft, syrup-infused kiss. And if he whispers something about feeling inspired by the inappropriate sweater Eddie’s picked out for him to wear later, well, that’s between him and Eddie and whoever’s bedroom they end up in when they leave Murray’s.

Besides, he still owes him for not punching Tommy himself at that holiday party.

And Steve always delivers.

[kisses-for-you]

Sacrifice - Conner Kent

Conner Kent X GN!Reader

Summary: You and Conner don't really like each other. But when you make a sacrifice to save Conner, you both realise your true feelings.

Word Count: 1,580

⚠️ Warnings: Death.

You and Conner never really liked each other. It's like ever since he joined the team, you just hated him for no apparent reason. You didn't know why and neither did he. Maybe it's because you felt a certain type of attraction to him? No. That can't be it. Don't be ridiculous.

The tension between you and Conner was palpable. Anyone could see it. But despite the clashes and disagreements, there were moments when you caught each other's eyes, stealing glances across the room. In those moments, there was something unspoken, a subtle shift in the air. It was as if beneath the layers of animosity, a flicker of curiosity lingered.

One day, during a particularly intense mission, you and the team find yourselves facing an unexpected threat. Mother May has used her magic to stun everyone including Conner, except for you, which meant it was just you and her. Bad news for you, you don't have any magical powers, so what now? How are you meant to fight a witch with just your combat skills? That doesn't seem like it's going to work out great for you.

Feeling the weight of the situation, panic sets in as you assess the limited options. Your heart pounds in your chest and your palms start sweating. Mother May advances towards you with a wicked grin, revelling in her advantage. Without hesitation, you throw yourself between Mother May and Conner, shielding him from any possible danger.

She starts to speak but you interrupt Mother May, steeling yourself for whatever consequences may follow. "If you want to get to any of them, you'll have to go through me first," you declare, surprising even yourself with the conviction in your voice.

The empty road becomes charged with tension as Mother May assesses the situation. Conner, still under the effects of her magic, watches the unfolding scene with a mixture of confusion and concern. Despite your 'dislike' for him, you were still protecting him. Why?

Mother May smirks, confident in her powers. "You can't protect them forever, and trust me, your death won't change anything," she taunts.

Not letting her see the fear that is currently coursing through your veins, you respond, "Maybe I can't change anything, but I can't just stand by and let them get hurt either. At least I'll die knowing I did my best to protect my team."

Conner's gaze shifts from Mother May to you, a mix of surprise and realization crossing his face. He doesn't want you to die, especially not like this. But he can't do anything. Her powers have him and everyone stunned, stuck in place.

"You're brave, I'll give you that. It's a shame this is the way you have to go down," she scoffs, raising her hand to unleash a magical assault. As the energy builds, you brace yourself, fully aware that this might be the end. Yet, strangely, you feel a sense of peace knowing you're protecting the team, even Conner.

Just as Mother May releases the magical force, a sudden burst of red streaks across the scene. The force of her magic sends you flying backwards, directly into a wall. A sickening crack echoes through the air as your back collides with the wall.

Everything goes black. Surely, you should be able to feel something. Some sort of pain. You've most likely just broken something from the force of the hit but you can't feel a thing. You can't see anything either, nor can you hear anything. No fucking way. Is this it? Did the bitch really just kill you? That easily as well? What about the rest of the team?

Everyone winces at the sound of your back making contact with the wall. They know what's probably just happened but none of them want to believe it. You can't be dead.

As the darkness envelops you, one distant voice echoes in your mind - Conner's voice. "No, this can't be happening," he mutters, breaking free from Mother May's spell, his eyes widening in horror at the sight of you crumpled against the wall.

Before anyone can attack Mother May, she vanishes into thin air. Now you're dead and your murderer is nowhere to be seen.

The team, released from the magical hold, rushes to your side. Conner, fueled by a surge of emotions he didn't quite understand, kneels beside you. "Hey, come on, wake up," he pleads, his usually stoic demeanour towards you now replaced by genuine concern.

His voice slowly fades away as your hearing once again disappears. This time, it doesn't come back. This is really it. You're gone.

People say that when you die, you get to rewatch your entire life from birth to death. But for you, it's just pitch black, a neverending darkness. You didn't even get to say goodbye to anyone. You didn't get to tell Gar about how much you actually love hearing his stupid jokes. You didn't get to tell Kory about how much of an impact she's made on you and the rest of the team. You didn't get to tell Conner about how you don't actually hate him. You didn't get to tell him about how you used that hate as a disguise for your true feelings. You've realised you love him but it's too late now. You're dead.

Conner, kneeling beside your lifeless body, is overwhelmed by a mix of grief and guilt. The team gathers around, grappling with the reality of losing one of their own. Conner finds himself unable to comprehend the weight of your sacrifice.

Amid the chaos, he reaches out, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face, a gesture that feels more tender than he ever expected. "I didn't... I didn't get to tell her how much I loved her," he stammers, his voice betraying a vulnerability you'd never witnessed before. He finally admitted the truth and you aren't even here to hear it.

In the following days, guilt gnaws at Conner. He feels somehow responsible for your death. Maybe if he'd been stronger, faster, he could've saved you. But he didn't and that kills him inside.

One night, Conner stands alone on the rooftop, staring at the city below. The realization hits him hard - he never got to express his true feelings to you. The words he kept buried, hidden behind a façade of dislike, start to haunt him slightly.

"I wish I could've told you," Conner whispers to the night sky, a silent confession to the empty air.

"Told me what?" you ask, your voice startling Conner. He turns around and his eyes widen in shock.

He stammers, "Y/N? But.. you're dead. How? Is my mind just playing tricks on me?"

"No. I'm very much alive. Trust me, I don't get it either. I died, or at least I was sure I had. Something somehow brought me back. But I don't know what," you say, standing there with a mixture of confusion and relief. You're glad to be back but you still shouldn't be here. How was this possible?

He takes a step closer, his eyes searching your face for any sign of deception. "If this is some kind of sick prank, it's not funny."

You take a step closer to him, closing the distance between you guys. Wrapping your arms around his neck in a hug, you respond, "Is this enough to prove I'm really here?"

Conner, caught off guard, hesitates for a moment before returning the hug, wrapping his strong arms tightly around your waist. As he holds you, a mixture of relief and confusion also washes over him.

"I thought I lost you," Conner admits, his voice a blend of vulnerability and sincerity. The realization that you're standing in front of him, alive and well, hits him and he hugs you the slightest bit tighter.

Conner, still processing the whirlwind of emotions, starts to speak again. "I never got the chance to tell you something," he pauses but continues, "Y/N, I never hated you. I just pretended I did because I thought that it was easier than admitting my feelings for you. But I realise now that it was a really stupid choice. I should've just been straight up with you. You dying made me realise how much I regretted not telling you. So now, I'm telling you because I'm too scared that something like this might happen again in the future and I can't go through this again. The regret and the guilt are too much. Even for me."

You pull away slightly, looking into his eyes. A small blush forms on your face as you realise he reciprocates your feelings. The corners of your lips curve upwards as you respond, "When I died, Conner, I regretted not telling you that I loved you so much. So, I'm going to tell you the truth now. Conner, I'm in love with you and I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I guess it took me literally dying to realise how I actually felt."

Conner flashes you a smile, a smile of relief and happiness. He opens his mouth to speak, but before he can even get a word out, you cut him off, your lips crashing against his own in a kiss full of passion and emotion.

His hand reaches up to cup your cheek as you slowly pull away. The warmth of his touch reassures you that this moment is real. "God, I love you so much, Y/N."

[tsunael]

Tsuna -

Thancred

Urianger

Jullus

Tataru

describe your OC's feelings/relationship to an NPC.

WHOA THAT'S SO MANY. Huge post incoming lmao.

You probably didn't mean the first one like this but...

What does she think about herself?

So, her opinion of herself lessens over time. She is tempered from a life of entertaining strangers, of becoming a living work of art, and that involves living in a world of putting on a mask every day. At first she's proud of herself and her status, and being appreciated for her beauty make living in a Hyuran-dominated space feel validating. She worked hard to get to where she is-- especially in a caste-system like Kugane's.

Her only goal is to earn her keep at the okiya, and to gain a patron (a danna) in order to repay her debts so that she can retire and look for her father in Thavnair. This, of course, doesn't quite happen the way she envisioned.

There's a clear moment she starts taking on guilt and it begins when she first killed a Garlean soldier and is forced to flee the country. I think the guilt just compounds from there until she feels she is undesirable and unclean for the things she's done. Eventually she will have to take measure of her worth, and pit them against the traditional Raen morals of her upbringing: does the good she has done outweigh the lives she has taken? Is it peace if it was written in blood?

Thancred.

Sweats. Well, for starts, he's one of the few that aren't eager to lick her boots simply because of her power and she has always appreciated that about him. He sees her as she is, and she has always appreciated that about him-- what she doesn't know is it's because he sees himself in her.

Their relationship is rocky though, and to be clear it's always been full of highs and lows. He humours her lack of experience as an adventurer because Minfilia takes a liking to her, but at the same time he also sees Tsuna as a potential conquest, which she repeatedly rebukes. His cocktail of emotions spill over in 3.2 that really sours their relationship until SHB proper (5.0?).

What does she think of him, though? He's refreshing, frustratingly dry-witted, incorrigible, and sympathetic. She also knows he could love so deeply if he just allowed himself to be loved in return.

Urianger.

Amiable at first. Another Eorzean who speaks in a strange bastardization of the common tongue, and so she often has difficulty understanding both his speech and his allegiances. Once, he gifted her a book on Sharlayan astrology after expressing an interest in conjury, and though she never gained a knack for it, she has kept the deck of cards ever since.

It made his subsequent betrayals hurt worse, however. He broke her trust not once, but twice. After the events at Gulg she has found him nothing but shady-- a complete enigma even after she had thought she finally knew him. Even though he does what he does with a heavy heart and good intentions, they tend to invite the worst kinds of trouble.

I haven't a clue what this relationship could be called but it is friendly. He has no ill-will towards her, and never has, and neither does she. She definitely finds him mesmerizing to look at, though. I suppose she keeps a wide berth from him if she can help it, simply because her trust is not something so easily won back.

Jullus.

Ouch. Oof. Rough. Similar to themes I mention in my Fordola question, Tsuna has prejudices against the Garlean people whether they be military personnel or civilians and I consider this a flaw she needs to overcome. Learning of Arenvald's heritage did much to distil her initial prejudices, however, Jullus and her are (at first) a hair's breadth from knocking heads.

(As a personal aside, having just finished the island sanctuary quests yesterday I was actually wondering at the time about how uncomfortable Tsuna might have been while breaking bread with all those Garleans lmao.)

I do think she softens on them as a people, and subsequently Jullus, but it takes time. Jullus, himself is meant to represent them as a whole to the player imo. There are just too many layers preventing her from seeing him as a person when he is such a product of his environment. I wouldn't doubt if he kept his mistrust of her as well.

TATARU !!

They are best friends for certain. Tataru lives for her stories, and has a great time accompanying Tsuna whenever she can. Tataru has a real adventurous heart and she definitely lives vicariously through her in that way. Aside from that, their relationship is full of gossip over tea and all that-- mostly Tataru doing the spilling. I think Tsuna does really well with Ul'dahns extroverts that are really forward lmao.

Minfilia isn't around anymore and I imagine Tataru gets very lonely without her best friend. Tsuna will never be a replacement for that relationship, but I think Tataru appreciates her presence.

Also as a personal observation, though it doesn't have anything to do with their relationship per se, the last Tataru quest ended up being very thematic for Tsuna and I was losing my mind over it. The worries of diaspora losing their culture, the guilt of feeling that you're not doing more for your people, and then it all culminating in recreating Tataru's mother's heirloom. (Tsuna keeps her own mother's wedding ring with her and it's an important part of her story.) I just found it all very fitting for the two of them!

Also, Tataru definitely sewed her a dress for her date dinner with Aymeric, and would do so again. She's the kind of friend that's like 'I'm going to make you look so smoking hot this guy loses his religion over you'.

[harry-writings]

Bothered

- A blurb in which somebody flirts with Y/n for the first time, and Harry lets jealousy get the best of him

This is a little Drive Me Wild extra for all your valentine’s day needs!!! I hope you enjoy :) 

Masterlist

-

“Tequila, please. The best one you’ve got!”

Open bars at work parties are an absolute lifesaver.

Harry and Y/n have been nonstop on their feet since three, wearing their sunday best, talking to all the higher ups and other officials at the firm with as much professionalism as possible. And though it was certainly a nice break from the work setting, it was still a lot for the both of them to keep up with.

It’s nearly eleven now, the party near its end and the exhaustion finally settling in. But Y/n wouldn’t ever dream of passing up unlimited free drinks whenever offered (neither would Harry, but getting her home safe is his biggest priority). Besides, she needed to take the edge off, somehow.

The bartender smiles at her, his eyes looking at her up and down very briefly before making her drink.

She’s humming softly to herself, her fingers tapping against the bar, the palm of her other hand resting on the back of her neck and she looks around the venue, admiring the architecture and the chandeliers that hang from above her.

“How long have you been working for them?” The bartender asks as he slides the shotglass to her, to which Y/n smiles.

“Almost three years! It’s been really good to me so far. I must say, though, it gets a bit stressful and there are a handful of times we end up having to take our work home. But I’ve met some of the best people through the company, so I can’t complain much! Especially when this is the only job I’ve ever considered staying at for so long.”

When the bartender doesn’t answer, yet rather just stares at her with amusement and endearment in his eye, Y/n starts to get nervous.

She considers diverting her attention back to Harry and moving on with her night as if she hadn’t spoken a word at all, but she’s never been the kind of person to walk away from an uncomfortable silence. And most certainly, she has never found it in her will to escape somebody’s pressing and persistent stares.

All of it just makes her so anxious.

So, as an attempt to calm her nerves, Y/n throws her head back as she takes her shot of tequila, her nose scrunching and eyes squinting as it burns down her throat and settles in her chest.

“What about you? How long have you been working as a bartender? I’ve heard it’s a lot of work, remembering all the recipes and stuff. Whenever I went to university, I would go to bars and get drunk by myself and watch how fast all the bartenders made drinks. I found it mesmerising, really. Like an art, almost. A sport, too, I suppose, given how much you all have to think and act quickly yet unmistakably.”

Harry smiles softly to himself, a bittersweet feeling bubbling in his chest as he listens to her get caught up in her rambles.

She doesn’t do that much with him anymore, not in the way she used to. And it isn’t because she’s lost any trust in him, or because she loves him any less — rather, it’s because she trusts and loves him so much more that she doesn’t feel the need to fill any gaps or spaces between them anymore.

He doesn’t make her nervous.

She doesn’t need reassurance with him because she already knows how madly in love they are with one another and how they are undeniably bound to spend the rest of their lives together. The silences they share are comfortable for her, his simple presence enough to make her feel at ease and loved and respected without him having to constantly remind her.

And surely, Y/n still chews his ear off here and there, but he only ever wants more of her.

It’s a disease, his greed and longing for her. She is so enough yet so not enough at the same time, it kills him to think about it, but only in the best way possible.

But the smile and the admiration die down nearly instantly when Harry’s eyes catch the way the bartender looks at Y/n, and the way he straightens himself before her, and the way his bottom lip tucks between his teeth ever so slightly.

Harry crosses his arms at this, watching the way another man is drooling and fonding over his Y/n and not at all trying to hide it. And the sad part is that he can’t even blame him for it — how could he? He had done the very same thing for nearly two years straight.

So he suffers with it in silence.

“My goodness, I do love me a woman who can carry a conversation.”

Harry’s eyes squint over at him, his arms still crossed over his chest, his fingers twisting as he watches him blink flirtatiously at Y/n and the upward twitch of his lip whenever she flips her hair over her shoulder.

She only ever does that when she’s sweating, he knows this because she’s his girlfriend and he knows her more than he’s ever known himself. He also knows that Y/n thinks too lowly of herself to ever consider one’s kindness as flirting.

And though Harry wouldn’t dare to dream of changing anything about her, he does wish, just this once, that she’d see it.

Y/n blushes at his comment, but only because she doesn’t know what to say.

“Can I have another shot, please?” She asks as a form of distraction, but in such a sweet manner the bartender barely seems to notice. “I never get to go out to drink much nowadays, with work and all. So, I’m sorry if I order too much. Large groups of people aren’t really my thing. Not that I hate people, or anything. I guess they just make me nervous.”

And as the bartender pours her shot glass full of tequila, his eyes don’t make the slightest move to leave her. He’s gawking, looking smug as if he could ever stand a chance.

Y/n pretends not to notice.

“Look, I close down the bar in an hour. And since large groups of people aren’t really your thing, why don’t I take you somewhere nice —”

“Oh...”

“— just you and me, so I can have the chance to get to know you more? Maybe in more ways than one, if I’m lucky?”

Oh, fuck no.

Flirting is one thing, but listening as some stranger talks about wanting to have sex with his girlfriend is something entirely different. Especially when she hasn’t done anything other than be nice and considerate towards him.

He’s taking advantage of her kindness.

Harry can’t hold himself back anymore.

“Excuse me?”

And curse his fucking natural lack of emotion because it was supposed to sound threatening and protective, but rather, it must have come off the way any other customer were to grab a bartender’s attention because he looks over at him with a tight and strained smile, clearly laced with annoyance, with not a hint of suspicion.

“Yes, sir, what can I help you with?”

Harry clenches his jaw and nods his head, his gaze falling to the top of the bar as he tries — really, really tries — to keep himself together instead of knocking this poor bloke’s teeth in.

The urge is there, but he could never scare Y/n like that, or sacrifice his job for satisfaction’s sake — he was lucky he didn’t jeopardize it when he landed a solid right hook on his coworker a few months back. But to make such a rude, blunt, disrespectful comment to his girlfriend is too much for him to process.

But it’s not all anger. There’s something else there — something else brewing and swelling inside of him that’s never been there before. He can’t identify it no matter how hard he tries.

“It would help me tremendously, actually, if you were to stop asking to sleep with my girlfriend right in front of me.”

It’s silent for a moment, the air thick with tension as the bartender looks both between Harry and Y/n, Y/n and Harry. He looks weary of it, as if it were so impossible for her to ever be seen with somebody like him.

“You’re with him?” He asks Y/n, as if Harry’s word wasn’t enough and it nearly throws him off the deep end.

Y/n’s eyes blink with confusion and shock as she tries to adjust herself to her surroundings. Everything happened so quickly to her, she feels like she can’t keep up.

Harry senses this — he senses her uncertainty and uneasiness and takes notice in the way her fingers begin to grip at her shot glass a bit tighter. Confrontation and arguments are not Y/n’s strong suit and in the hands of either one, she is defenseless.

“Is my word not enough for you?”

The bartender lifts his hands up in defense, his eyebrows raised as if somehow proving a point he’s clearly been missing. “Can’t blame me for assuming she’s single, you’re sitting next to the prettiest girl on earth and you look like you couldn’t even be bothered.”

Harry’s hands turn to fists, his jaw clenching and eyebrows twitching as he hears him speak all the words he’d rather die than hear spoken again.

How a complete stranger can cut a wound so deep within him is unfathomable, but here he is, bleeding out with all his insecurities and flaws and weaknesses along with it. And it pains him. It hurts and if one more wrong word is spoken, he’ll fall victim to all the darkest parts of himself.

He can’t risk that, not around Y/n.

“I would highly suggest you stop talking now —”

“You aren’t even interested in her! I gave her more attention in the last ten minutes than you’ve given her all night!”

“Hey.” Y/n cuts in with pouted lips, her face fallen as her voice quivers at the argument brewing in front of her. “That’s not true. He — he’s been beside me all night. I thought it was — I thought it was obvious.”

“Doesn’t matter anymore. We’re going home.”

Harry’s tone is unlike anything she’s ever heard. It’s stern, harsh, laced with impatience as he stands from his barstool and scrambles to gather her belongings.

And Y/n’s at a loss, just standing against the bar helplessly, looking at Harry with tearful eyes and shaking lips. He has never been this angry at her before and she doesn’t know how to fix it. Talking was what got them into this mess, she’s sure talking won’t get themselves out of it.

But it doesn’t hurt to try.

“Wait, H. I’m sorry, I —”

“That’s enough, now. We’re making our last rounds and then we’re going straight home.”

That was the first time he’s ever interrupted her.

-

It isn’t until Harry starts the car that Y/n breaks the silence.

“H, I didn’t know he was going to ask me out on a date.” She speaks with a voice small and shoulders slumped as she tries desperately to fix all the trust she has broken. “I was just trying to be nice and —”

“Not now, Y/n, please.”

She realizes the severity of the situation when he doesn’t call her a pet name.

Her eyes fill with tears, fully aware that even when he was most upset with her, he never interrupted her while talking or avoided her gaze like it was the last thing he ever wanted to see. He’s doing both right now and to say that it hurt her is an understatement.

He’s sick of hearing me speak. He’s angry at me for talking too much to everybody and not noticing the consequences. He’s tired of listening to me make excuses for myself when I’m never going to change. He doesn’t want this anymore.

Her mind can’t help but to think such things, and though deep down in her heart she knows he’d never feel that way towards her, words of her past can’t help but torment her in the heat of this moment. Because this is so different than how it usually is with him, and it all started with her.

Harry can feel how much of a toll his words took on her, but he doesn’t know what to say. He is feeling so many things, and processing so much, he feels like he’s lost himself. All sense of everything else had left him the second the bartender spoke the words he always feared to hear.

You’re sitting next to the prettiest girl on earth and you look like you couldn’t even be bothered.

He knows it isn’t true, and he also knows she knows it isn’t true, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less.

To know other people see it that way devastates him. He doesn’t date Y/n to look uninterested in her, or bored of her, or tired to be with her — he dates Y/n because he wants to show her off, desires to make her and everybody else see how in love with her he is, to make it known she never has to walk this world alone.

To know he has failed to do that simply by being himself is a lot for him to take in.

He sighs, ripping off his glasses so his other hand can rub at his burning eyes before settling the both of them back on the steering wheel, his gaze still set on the windshield.

“I’m sorry for not letting you finish talking, twice now. It wasn’t right and I know what that does to you. And I’m not angry or upset with you, either. I’m just — I’m just not in the mood right now, alright? I need some time to think.”

Y/n nods, fearing that whatever words she chooses to speak will only make it worse.

Neither of them talk the rest of the way home, but that doesn’t mean Harry doesn’t reach his hand over to her thigh to squeeze at it three times, as if to tell her he loves her.

-

It isn’t until they make it into their bedroom that Harry starts to let it all out.

He’s pacing, his hands fidgeting with his clothes and running through his hair, his eyes wild but still refusing to look at her, muttering curses under his breath but nothing directly towards her just yet.

Y/n’s standing by the dresser, taking off her remaining jewelry and allowing him his time to dwell on his feelings. He needs this. She knows she’s the only person that he’ll ever show this kind of emotion to — he couldn't even show it to himself — so she listens, smiles sympathetically at him here and there, refusing to leave his side until this is all figured out.

He huffs before letting out a sickened laugh.

“Who the hell does he think he is? Telling me I’m not interested in you. I can’t be walking around kissing and hovering and touching all over you at a work party, I respect you too much. But he wouldn’t know a damn thing about that, would he?”

He throws his suit jacket down on the bed, only allowing himself one beat of a moment to shake his head before his hands start to fidget again, pacing around the foot of the bed to try and understand his primary emotion.

He feels a million and ten different emotions scrambling within him at once, he can’t make sense of them. Whether he’s angry, or sad, or hurt, or insecure, or humiliated… he doesn’t know. It all feels the same yet all feels so different. He is utterly lost in all of them.

“Then proceeds to have the nerve to say he’s given you more attention than I have. What the fuck does that even mean? All he does is serve you two drinks and speak one sentence. I give you all my time, all my company, all my attention, and somehow he thinks he’s better for you than me?”

And it hits her.

No wonder he’s been acting so different towards her and so quiet despite him not blaming her for what happened — he’s jealous, which is the exact reason he doesn’t have an understanding with it.

She’s his first girlfriend, and until now, there had never been any reason for him to feel this way.

But as sick and twisted as it sounds, Y/n’s heart warms at the thought of it. Because never once has someone ever had a problem with letting her go. Her loss never affected anybody around her, and so nobody had ever feared it.

To know that out of all people, it’s him who does, means everything to her.

She hums at him, an all too knowing smile on her face as she makes her way to her frantic lover, who stills when he notices her closeness.

Her hands rest at his chest, rubbing at it over his dress shirt, just the way he likes. It reminds him of the night of their first date — when she gave into her cravings and put her hands nearly everywhere they could touch — and so she always goes back to that very first moment.

It never fails him.

“It’s okay, lovebug.” Y/n smiles softly at him, her voice even more soft and tender than usual as she tries to get him to relax.

Her hands slither down the hem of his trousers, her fingers resting just above the swell of his bum and pulling him in closer to her. And he wraps his arms around her shoulders, a heavy sigh leaving his lips before bringing his chest toward her cheek for it to nest in.

“Don’t let somebody get the best of you. Especially when they don’t know anything about you or me or our relationship. We know what we are and what we have, it doesn’t matter what he thinks is better for me. I have what’s best. Forever.”

He sighs, the weight of the night lifting from him slightly, but not enough.

He rests his chin on the top of her head, his eyes on the verge of being soaked with tears. Because though he knows her words to be true, he just can’t seem to shake what’s rattling in his bones and picking at his skin.

He wants it all to be okay, and it almost is, just not fully. And it’s killing him from the inside out.

“It’s a new feeling for me.” Harry confesses sadly, trying to think of the right words to say to explain what’s burning in his chest. “It hurts me to feel it. I’m so comfortable and confident in you and yet somehow I can’t — I can’t stop thinking about you and that fucking bartender and him touching you and making you laugh and —”

“You’re jealous.”

She pulls away from him slightly, her eyes looking up at him softly and sympathetically. He gives into her gaze for only a beat longer before looking away from her again, unable to take it.

It all makes sense — the unfamiliar feelings, the scrambling of emotions, the sensitivity to the words that had been spoken about him. His relationship had been threatened for the first time since it started, how could he not be?

“Of course I’m jealous. Which is absolutely horrible because you look so pretty yet it hurts too much to look at you.”

She chuckles, a playful smirk on her face as she reaches her hands up to his cheeks. And she turns his head to the side, forcing his eyes to look into hers as she rubs her thumb along his cheekbones.

Even like this, he is the most perfect man she’s ever seen. She has loved this person longer than she has loved anything else, how he could ever feel jealous of anybody is absolutely beyond her. He is all she will ever need, and everything she will ever want.

He is the only person that has ever deserved her.

“Baby, you have nothing to be jealous of. I don’t think, since the moment I’ve laid eyes on you, I’ve ever bothered to look for anybody else.” His breath faults, then, his heart dropping as if it were falling in love all over again.

And just like that, the hurt is gone.

“I’m yours, H. I have always been yours.”

He wants her to keep going, so instead of answering, he taps the back of her thigh twice. He’s never done so outside of sex, but he needs her all over him, holding him, hanging onto him. He needs it now more than ever.

She giggles, understanding exactly what he wants before jumping up until her legs are wrapped around his waist and her arms are looped around his neck. He catches her instantly, snuggling his face into the crook of her neck and kissing at the exposed skin.

She loves how much her words have an affect on him.

“I love you so much. I always will. No matter how many sleazy men ask me to sleep with them.”

He whines, lifting his head from her shoulder before looking at her with sad eyes and pouted lips at the subtle reminder that somebody else thought of her that way. Only he has, only he can, it doesn’t matter the circumstance.

She’s his.

She smiles down at him with a small blush on her cheeks, her arms unwrapping from his neck so her hands can grip his face again.

“I sleep with you. Every night. In more ways than one.” She kisses at his lips. “Cause I’m lucky.”

And for the first time tonight, he smiles. And as if that wasn’t enough for her, he laughs too — quietly, breathlessly — his hands rubbing all along her lower back and her thighs.

“Hmm... I am lucky, aren’t I?” Harry hums in bliss, his eyes looking at her fondly as she hangs on his neck in their home and it doesn’t get better than this. She had a man practically drooling on her lap and yet she’s here, with him, loving him, choosing him, just like she always has. “I do have the prettiest girl in the world. And the sweetest. And the strongest.”

“Too bad you couldn’t be bothered.” She teases, a smirk on her lips before her tongue pokes out to run quickly against his closed lips.

He lets out an almost sinister laugh, rumbling so deep in his chest she somehow manages to feel it in her legs.

“Why don’t I show you how bothered I am?”

[cherienymphe]

Dark Fairytale (Peter Parker x Reader)

➥ { page breaks done by @writeyourmindaway​ }

WARNINGS: NON-CON/DUB-DON, alpha!Peter, innocent!reader, loss of virginity (both m and f), controlling and possessive behavior 

summary: when Peter Parker literally crashes into your life, falling in love with the handsome alpha was inevitable. Thinking he isn’t like the rest, you don’t take heed of the red flags until its too late

~

You had been in the process of taking your garbage out when Peter Parker crashed into your life. Literally. You had just closed the garbage bin and was in the process of walking down your cobblestone path back to your house when something hit you. Hard. Knocking the wind from you.

You crashed to the ground, chin hitting the stones, and it took you a moment to realize that the weight was still on you. You had groaned as the person rolled off of you, their harsh breathing reaching your ears. A dull ache began to take over, and you just knew that it was going to really hurt in the morning. With difficulty, you pushed yourself up, only to pause…for several reasons.

The first being that the scent that struck you was familiar in a way that you didn’t necessarily like. It was a rich and suffocating scent of an alpha, an underlying spicy aroma hitting your nose that made you twitch. At the moment, it struck you as bitter, frustration swirling in the air.

The other reason being his attire.

The blue and red of the suit that hugged his frame was recognizable anywhere. It was torn in a few places, showcasing bruised slivers of skin. Without thinking, he ripped his mask off, face twisted into pain as he exhaled. It was only when he opened his eyes did he realize that he’d landed straight on another person, and he’d just revealed his face to said person.

“Crap!”

He moved to sit up only to hiss in pain, and you reached for him.

“Hey, you just fell from the sky,” you slowly told him, pushing yourself to your knees as you scooted closer. “Don’t move.”

He looked as if he was going to move away from you, but you held him in place. Nervousness pricked at you at being in such close proximity to an unmated alpha with no one else around, but you pushed it away. He was hurt.

“I’m not going to tell anyone who you are. I don’t even know who you are underneath the mask,” you chuckled, trying to easy his worries. “…but you don’t look so good. I have a first aid kit in my house.”

You pointed to the tiny house at the end of the long walkway, and his gaze followed your hand. He sank his teeth into his bottom lip, thinking, the pink skin reddening from an injury. Hesitantly, he nodded, and you helped him throw his arm over your shoulders. He groaned when he got to his feet, and you slowly but surely guided him towards the small building.

“Were you…fighting someone?” you eventually wondered.

“Yeah. A bit of a mission gone wrong,” he said through gritted teeth, brows furrowed.

You sat him down on your couch as soon as you made it inside. His chest heaved as he threw his head back, dark hair matted with dirt and sweat as his eyes fell closed. You ran your own eyes over him, frowning as something tickled inside of your stomach. Shaking your head to yourself, you moved to the kitchen to get the first aid kit.

He was still in the same position when you returned, lithe form stretched out, and you almost thought he’d fallen asleep. When you neared, he stirred, blinking his eyes open as he moved to straighten. You sat beside him, first aid kit in your lap. You could feel his eyes on you, and when you looked up, you found that you were correct.

He looked away as soon as you made eye contact, and you blinked, frowning a bit before returning to the task at hand. He wasn’t beat up too badly, so it took you no time to clean him up, placing a band-aid on a cut on his forehead.

You could feel his eyes on you again as you smoothed it along his skin. You bit your lip, body buzzing under the heat of his gaze. He didn’t look away this time as your eyes met his, and you slowly pulled away.

“There. I’m done,” you quietly told him.

He slowly stood, and you looked up at him as he did so. He flexed, taut muscles moving beneath the suit, and he sighed. He looked down at you, jaw clenched as he sent you a strained smile.

“Thanks,” he eventually said.

“No problem…Spider-man.”

His smile widened, and he stuck his hand out.

“Peter. Peter Parker,” he said, and his face suddenly pinched. “You won’t…you won’t tell anyone that, will you?”

You shook your head as you took his hand, shaking it as well.

“I have no one to tell,” you honestly told him.

You saw his eyes crinkle with curiosity, but he must have swallowed it down, turning to leave. It was late in the evening now, getting dark, and you watched him pull his mask back on before swinging on top of your house. When you stepped outside, he was nowhere to be found.

You thought it odd that you weren’t as starstruck as you thought you’d be if you ever got the chance to meet an Avenger, but you had simply gone inside and made dinner like it was any other night. You tried to push away how drawn you’d felt to him, but your efforts were futile. Peter Parker plagued your mind for weeks. So much so, that when you answered a knock on your door weeks later, you’d thought that maybe you’d imagined the web slinger standing on your step.

In reality, it was more like he was swaying on your step, fighting to stay upright. Like before, he looked bruised and like he’d just left a fight. You barely caught him as he fell forward, and it took all of your strength to help him inside. Like last time, you deposited him on your couch before making your way to the kitchen.

After you had cleaned him up as best as you could –he was in worse shape than the last time–you set the first aid kit down to look at him. His gaze was already on you, and you fought to hold it.

“Why… Why did you come here?” you quietly asked him.

His scent was much calmer now, no lingering bitterness, and the earthy aroma wrapped around you like a blanket. You wanted to bask in it. You shifted at your thoughts, and Peter ran his dark eyes over you at the movement.

“Mr. Stark…,” he quietly began, pausing to catch his breath. “I’m trying to prove to him that I can handle these solo assignments. If I keep showing up to the compound looking like I just came from war, he’ll think it’s too hard for me.”

You blinked at that, slowly nodding as you registered his explanation. You lived in upstate New York, so you figured that the compound must have been near.

“I figured that after the last time…I can trust you,” he continued.

“You can,” you quietly told him, standing to return the kit to the kitchen.

And to escape his intense gaze.

When you closed the cabinet, you turned around to find your living room empty of the masked superhero. You hadn’t even heard him leave. You sighed, and you couldn’t tell if it was from relief…or disappointment. You didn’t have very long to yourself to ponder over that, a heavy knock sounding on your door only days later.

You’d been in the tub when you heard it, and quickly tightening a robe around you, you ran towards the front door. You had known who it was before you even opened it, a small smile on your face as Peter stumbled inside.

Minutes later, you were sitting on the floor with your legs tucked underneath you as you tried your hand at stitches. You’d tried to tell Peter that you’d never done them before, but he didn’t care, clearly desperate. You wondered if he regretted that as you watched him wince for the umpteenth time.

“Ouch,” he gritted out, teeth clenched.

You shot him an apologetic look, a small smile dancing on your lips.

“I thought you had super strength,” you murmured.

“It still hurts,” he quietly replied, watching your fingers work over his hand.

He hissed, and you tutted.

“I’m almost done…”

He heaved a sigh, leg bouncing as he waited for you to finish.

“Why are you alone?”

You blinked at his sudden question, glancing up at him.

“Excuse me?” you asked, not understanding it.

He ran his eyes over you, trailing his gaze to dance along your collarbone, lingering in the open V of your robe. He suddenly glanced away as if he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t have, face flushed. Your skin had still been wet underneath the robe, the cool air making you shiver, but you felt your body heat up under his quick perusal.

“Why do you live alone? You’re an omega, right?”

You paused at that, heart skipping a beat before you continued with the task at hand. You knew that your suppressants weren’t strong, just enough to keep your heats at bay, but you didn’t socialize much. You’d never realized just how weak they were if Peter could sniff you out in no time.

“Shouldn’t you…? I mean…,” he trailed off, swallowing down what you both knew he wanted to say.

You licked your lips, and you felt the heat of his gaze on your face.

“I never knew my parents,” you confessed, voice deafening in the quiet cottage. “I was adopted as a baby by this…old bitty of a woman.”

You chuckled, snipping the thread.

“She was like a mother and a grandmother all rolled into one. This is where we lived…where I grew up,” you fondly told him.

You looked up at him to find him keenly listening, hunched over.

“She died years ago…some months after my 19th birthday. I knew it was coming, but it still hurt.”

“I’m sorry,” Peter whispered.

You shook your head.

“It’s okay. She lived a long life, much longer than I thought she would, so I was grateful to have gotten 19 years with her,” you replied. “She left me the house and everything else she owned. Neither one of us got out much, and I saw no reason to change that, especially since I work from home.”

You shrugged.

“This is where I’ve been ever since, in this quiet little neighborhood.”

Peter snorted, and you pulled your hand away, having been ignorant to the fact that you’d been smoothing your fingers over his skin. Embarrassment flooded you.

“Your closest neighbor is half a mile down the street. You’re tucked away in this corner by yourself,” he complained.

“Your point being?”

He rubbed the back of his head, and you knew what he was going to say before he opened his mouth.

“It can be…dangerous for someone like you. I mean… What if someone follows you home? Another alpha? One who’s not so nice as me?”

You wanted to be annoyed, but the genuine worry on his handsome features made you crack a smile.

“I’ve taken care of myself for this long, Peter. I think I’ll be fine,” you responded, standing up.

He stood with you, raking his eyes over you. He looked like he wanted to say something, but he opted for thanking you instead, turning to leave. You stood at the door when he turned to face you, dark eyes filled with whatever thoughts he wouldn’t voice. With a shake of his head, he hopped over your house, leaving you once again.

It became a semi regular thing for Peter Parker to show up at your door in the late evening, battered and needing medical attention. You were starting to grow worried at how often he was depositing himself on your doorstep. You’d told him one day that maybe Tony Stark had a right to be worried.

He’d insisted that he could handle it, convinced that he was getting better.

“For Christ’s sake, I’m an adult now. I wish he’d start treating me like it,” he’d ranted one afternoon while you cleaned a nasty cut on his back. “No more of this probationary period stuff. I shouldn’t have to prove that I can handle missions on my own.”

You threw a sympathetic look to the back of his head, his scent bitter with frustration and anger.

“…maybe he’s just worried, Peter,” you quietly told him, trying to placate the man.

He heaved a sigh at that, back muscles flexing with the action.

“Yeah…I guess…”

You smoothed the bandage over his back, and unable to help yourself, you trailed your fingers over his smooth skin. You felt him tremble, a shudder traveling down his spine. Realizing what you were doing, you snatched your hand away just as he turned around.

The house was quiet as he just stared at you, and you stared back. Your heart felt like it was going a mile a minute, and you bit your lip as he ran his dark eyes over you, reaching out to touch your face. His finger trailed over your jaw, and you pulled away when his thumb grazed your trembling lip, looking away as you stood.

“It’s late,” you simply said. “Mr. Stark will be wondering where you are, and we can’t have him thinking you’re in trouble.”

You could feel his gaze on you, but you avoided his eye. You leaned against the wall beside the door as he made to leave, and you finally glanced up at him as he stood in the doorway. His expression was unreadable, and like so many times before, he looked like he wanted to say something before thinking better of it.

“Goodnight,” he murmured.

“Night,” you whispered back.

You pressed your hand against the door as you closed it, taking a deep breath. Your body still hummed from his presence, and somehow, you just knew that he was still on the other side. Something deep within you was telling you to open the door, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. You only relaxed when your stomach settled…and you knew he was gone.

You didn’t know why he was affecting you so much. It’s not like you hadn’t been around alphas before, because you had. Plenty of times, in fact! Granted, most of your experiences weren’t exactly pleasant, so you did your best to avoid interacting with them if you could help it. But…

There was just something about Peter Parker.

He didn’t seem like most alphas. He was soft spoken, always hanging onto your every word as he listened to whatever you had to say. He didn’t do that thing where he tried to intimidate you, subtly get you to subconsciously submit to him. In fact, you’d say that he went out of his way to shrink in on himself just to make you more comfortable.

Nana had also been an omega, but her mate had died long before you came along. From what you remembered, she seemed happy enough, but there was always a longing in her eyes that never went away. The bond remained until she finally died too. You thought about Peter…about what would happen should the two of you…

You turned to finally make your way back to your room, shaking your head. You felt silly for getting ahead of yourself like this, but you couldn’t help it. You were so drawn to him, unlike anything you’d ever experienced before. But he was a superhero. He would always be in danger. You knew that firsthand, had seen the evidence and the price of his protection yourself.

What if you ended up like nana?

You pushed him out of your thoughts as you settled into bed, determined to let sleep claim you. You told yourself that this wouldn’t go on forever. There would come a day when he’d no longer need your help, and you’d both move on. You tried to ignore how your heart clenched at that as sleep finally claimed you.

You didn’t think that day would come so soon.

The weeks that followed were spent in solitude. Your routine continued as it had before without the interruptions of Peter Parker. You woke up and did some of your online work. You’d watch tv, maybe read a book, and when you needed to, you’d make your way to the grocery store. Before you knew it, 2 months had gone by with no sign of the masked superhero.

You told yourself that you accepted that you’d probably never see him again. That meant that he was doing much better now and didn’t need your help. You should be happy for him. So why couldn’t you find it in yourself to feel happy? There was an ache in your chest that wouldn’t go away. It had even started to keep you up most nights.

It was the middle of the night when Peter returned to you. It was long past a reasonable hour for you to be asleep, moon high in the sky. Your a/c had broken the night before, so your window was cracked, allowing the cool night air to hit you. You had been drifting in and out of consciousness, never fully finding sleep, when you heard something hit your front door. Hard.

Fear and surprise gripped your heart as you sat up. Confusion clouded your mind, but your feet carried you out of your room, nonetheless. You didn’t hear anything else once you made it to the living room, but your stomach tightened. As you got closer to the door, a spicy and heady aroma hit your nose, and you paused for half a second before running to throw it open.

A loud gasp escaped you as Peter practically fell on top of you. He’d been leaning on the door, and as you wrapped your arms around him, you understood why. The back of his suit felt wet, and something told you that it wasn’t water.

“Peter,” you quietly called to him.

He didn’t answer, and even in the darkness you could see that he was struggling to keep his eyes open. His head leaned against yours as you struggled to turn on the light, kicking the door closed. His breathing was quiet but labored. Guiding him down the hall was a task, bumping against the coffee table and knocking over a glass vase in the process, the plant and water inside of it crashing to the floor as it shattered.

He groaned, and your eyes widened when your back hit the wall. He pressed his hands against it, seeming to use all of his strength to hold himself up. Your own hands were still pressed against his back, and he blinked a couple of times, shaking his head from side to side.

“Peter…?”

He took a deep breath.

“I got…distracted,” he breathed.

You blinked at him in confusion, and he continued.

“I…had him,” he quietly said with a frown. “I practically had him, and then… It just hit me that…that I never learned your name.”

You scoffed, disbelief coloring your tone as he cracked a smile.

“Peter, you could’ve died,” you told him.

He chuckled.

“I almost did,” he sighed, starting to slump again.

With a yelp, you caught him, hoisting him up, moving along the wall towards your room.

“My name’s Y/N,” you told him as soon as you got in your doorway.

He pressed you against the doorjamb, and the air left you as his hands found your arms. His nose brushed against yours, lips moving as he repeated it to himself, testing it in his mouth. His scent invaded you, and you swore that you could taste him on your tongue. You swallowed when one of his hands came up to grip your jaw.

“P-Peter, you’re hurt…”

Your words died in the air as his lips met yours, and you tentatively kissed him back. His lips were soft, and the metallic taste of blood touched your tongue from a cut on his lip. He deepened the kiss, pulling you closer, and you could feel yourself growing heated. He took a step back, pulling you with him, and surprise filled you as you realized what was about to happen…what you wanted to happen…

You were even more surprised to realize that…you wanted to submit to him. Your body was practically begging for his dominant touch.

He pulled you towards your bed, and your feet stumbled into his. One of his arms was secured around your waist, holding you to him as he moved his lips against yours. Your fingers twisted into his hair, and he dragged his lips down your chin. You bared your neck to him, and he pressed his face into it, scenting you. Your eyes were focused on the ceiling when you opened them.

“Peter…I’ve… I’ve never…”

You tried to get the words out in between his kisses, but he was making it difficult.

“It’s okay,” he whispered. “It’s okay…”

You helped him peel the suit off, and you were tempted to stop when he groaned in pain, but he kissed you again before you could voice your concerns. His touch was gentle, but firm, clothes falling off of you and floating to the ground like feathers. The cool night air that slipped in through the window did nothing to cool your heated frame.

You were completely bare before him when your back hit your mattress, and you waited for the nervousness and fear to seize you…but it never came. You felt safe beneath Peter, safer than you’d ever felt, and it was a feeling you never wanted to lose. You splayed your hands across his chest as he hovered over you, dark hair brushing his forehead.

His eyes were dark with hunger, determination flittering across his features. He brushed his lips over yours so softly it could hardly be called a kiss. It stole your breath away either way. His bare chest pressed against your own as he settled in between your legs, and you sharply inhaled as he brushed against you.

“I’ll take care of you,” he whispered against your lips.

And he did.

He pushed into you slowly, and your lips parted at the intrusion. You avoided his back as you held onto him, eyes squeezing shut as he bottomed out. You breathed through your nose, and you felt Peter’s lips ghost over your closed lids.

You opened them when he started to move, realizing that you wanted to keep your eyes on him. His brows were pinched, and you wanted to smile at the concentration on his face, but you found yourself biting your tongue instead.

You didn’t know how much time had passed before the dull stinging pain bled into something more. Your legs were wrapped around his waist, and he had his fingers intertwined with your own, pinning them to the bed. Even with the cracked window allowing the cool air in, a thin layer of sweat still coated your frames.

You didn’t know if it was always like this, or if it was just Peter, but your body felt like it was filled with bees. He would kiss you sometimes, telling you that it was okay and that he’s got you, reassuring you. Occasionally, you felt his teeth grazing over the skin of your neck, and you found that there was no fear, bearing your throat to him every time. Should he mark you, you’d welcome it. But he didn’t.

He feverishly pressed his lips to yours as his thrusts sped up, breath mingling together as you gasped into his mouth. One of his hands curled around your waist, fingers digging into the skin while the other tightened its hold on your hand. You could feel your stomach tightening, toes curling as something began to build inside of you. Peter let out a low moan as your climax hit you, clenching around him hard. His hips stuttered before stilling against yours.

You both were out of breath, and you watched as his eyelashes fluttered, struggling to keep his eyes open. The day’s events had finally caught up to him, and it seemed to take everything to keep him from collapsing on top of you.

He rolled off of you, chest heaving.

“I’ve never…done that before…either,” he breathed.

By the time you looked over at him, in shock, he was already asleep. You reached up to brush a dark strand out of his eyes, fingers lingering as they trailed over his face. His arm curled around your waist and, basking in the scent of your alpha, you fell asleep.

You were alone when you woke up the next morning. Your hand had drifted to the other side of the bed, only to be met with cold sheets. You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, looking around with a frown. It didn’t feel like he was gone, but he was nowhere to be seen.

However, when you exited your room, sheet wrapped around you like a blanket, you could both hear and smell something going on in the kitchen. When you entered, you were met with the sight of Peter’s back as he stood in front of the counter.

You frowned at the nasty cut along his shoulder blade and suddenly regretted not tending to him last night. He turned before you even reached him, pressing his lips against yours, surprising you.

“I thought you’d left,” you quietly told him when he pulled away.

“Never,” he said with a small smile. “I wanted to make sure you got some food in you as soon as you woke up.”

He pushed you towards the table, and you sat down just as he placed a plate of pancakes and fruit in front of you.

“Won’t…won’t Tony Stark be worried that you didn’t make it back? He’ll think something went wrong. That you got hurt,” you said, looking up at him.

He sighed, a frown on his face.

“Yeah. He’s been…right to worry. You too. I don’t think I’ll be doing any more solo missions for a while,” he murmured.

You glanced away at that, and Peter placed his hand on your head.

“I won’t be going anywhere though,” he whispered. “Ever.”

Your heart fluttered at that, and you couldn’t keep the smile off of your face. You watched as he stuck a fork in a piece of melon, holding it to your face.

“Eat,” he softly ordered, eyes on you.

You did.

It wasn’t said in so many words, but in that moment, it was clear that you were his.

You didn’t know how it went over with Tony Stark after he didn’t return to the compound that night, but Peter slept over almost every night after that. He’d knock on your door just as the sun was setting, and you’d let him in with a smile. He’d leave the next morning after making sure you ate, and you often wondered what he told the rest of the Avengers. You wondered if he told them about you.

Your heat, the first one you’d had in literal years, had come a week later. It had hit you so suddenly, and after so many years of going without one, it took you a moment to understand what was happening at first. Your skin was drenched in sweat, and you were naked and curled up in a ball on your bed, thighs slick and body shaking when Peter found you.

You had heard him knock on the door, but you hadn’t been able to muster up the energy to shout to him. Your eyelashes fluttered, and you thought to yourself that your heat was returning with a vengeance after being suppressed for so long. You couldn’t even find it in you to be annoyed when you heard him break into your house. Only relief filled you, knowing that you’d finally get exactly what you needed.

You knew that he smelled you the minute he walked through the door. He had been calling your name before he abruptly cut himself off. His footsteps were deafening in the quiet house, and you couldn’t even be bothered to lift your head and look at him when he stepped into your room. You felt his hand on your damp forehead, and you moved closer, weakly reaching for him.

“Oh, princess,” he sighed, peppering kisses over your face.

“Peter,” you whispered, hands gripping his shirt as he joined you on the bed.

“I’m here, now,” he murmured, swiftly peeling off his clothes.

You shuddered when your skin came in contact with his, pulling him closer as you rubbed your face along his neck. The sound that he made deep in his chest pulled a shudder from you, and you mewled against his skin. He turned you around, and your forehead fell against your pillow with ease.

He trailed his hands down your back, pushing you down until your chest pressed against the sheets as he pressed against you. It was almost funny how naturally you molded to the way he moved you.

“Peter,” you whimpered, reaching back.

He pushed into you, your slick walls hugging him as a low moan escaped your lips.

“You’re so needy,” he murmured, almost in awe as he thrust into you.

One of his hands was on your hip, the other pressing into your shoulder as you fluttered around him with every thrust. You had never dealt with your heats properly before, and your body hummed, feeling so right…so satisfied with Peter’s ministrations.

His chest pressed against your back as he leaned over you, lips ghosting over your shoulder and behind your ear. The bed trembled beneath you, and your eyelashes fluttered, eyes rolling to the back of your head with every drag of his cock. He was sating that fire inside of you, and you whimpered, hips collapsing.

His movements didn’t give pause, pinning you between him and the bed. Your toes curled, sweat clinging to your skin as your hands slid along the sheets. Peter laid his hands over yours, intertwining your fingers. His nose ran along the expanse of your neck, and you purred beneath him, heat racing.

“Peter,” you quietly begged.

His knees spread your legs, a choked moan escaping as he thrust into you to the hilt. You felt his lips part, sucking on the skin where your neck and shoulder met, teeth threatening to break the skin. You could feel him swelling inside of you, hand letting go of your own to grip your hair. Your scalp stung a bit at his tight grip, but you welcomed it, moaning.

He pulled your head back, baring your throat. Your legs trembled as your climax started to sneak up on you, but his thrusts and swelling cock weren’t enough. His teeth dragged along your skin, and you reached back to rest your hand on the back of his neck.

“Peter,” you gasped. “…please.”

“You want my teeth in you?” he hummed. “Want to show the world that you’re mine?”

“Yes,” you whined.  

You jumped when Peter’s teeth sank into your skin, but your body relaxed when your climax washed over you like a wave, covering your entire body until you were completely limp beneath him. Peter groaned into your throat, completely locked into you now. Your heart calmed down in your chest, one final shudder hitting you when he let you go.

He laved his tongue over your skin, soothing it, and you hummed. Your head fell back down to the bed, and Peter pressed his lips to your fresh mark. You sighed when he slid his arms underneath you, enveloping you in his hold as he rolled you both onto your sides. He peppered kisses along the side of your face before kissing your mark again.

“You’re being so good for me,” he murmured against your skin.

You could only muster the energy to hum a reply, fatigue descending over you. He was still knotted inside of you, and you leaned back into him. He chuckled, and the vibrations traveled from his chest to your back. Sleep claimed you for the first time of many in the days to come.

You didn’t recall your heats lasting so long, but again, you hadn’t had one in years. So perhaps your memory was off, or maybe it was as you originally thought, and it just returned with a vengeance. When both Peter’s cock and teeth weren’t inside of you, you were sleeping in his arms. On the off chance that you weren’t sleeping, and that was usually because he woke you up, he was feeding you, settling you against his chest as he held food and water to your mouth.

He didn’t leave you for a second, and you wondered what he told the rest of the team.

“I told them that I’m visiting a friend for a few days,” he whispered when you asked him.

Your heat was finally ebbing away, and you were lucid enough to have a conversation with him outside of begging him to fuck you. You didn’t know how to respond to that, and you frowned. Peter must have detected the change in scent in the air because he sat up with you, turning you to face him.

“Hey,” he softly said, hands on your face.

“Are you…ashamed of me?” you asked him before he could continue, and his eyes widened.

“Never,” he said with conviction. “Why would you…?”

“Your team…your friends, the people you live with…they don’t know about me, and you never bring up me going there or-.”

He cut you off with a kiss, moving his lips over yours.

“You’re mine. My omega, and I’m so proud and lucky to call you that…”

He licked his lips, brows furrowing, and you felt like he wanted to say more.

“…but there are so many alphas on the team. One other alpha on the team would be one too many,” he started.

You reached up to run a finger over his lip as he talked, and he lightly bit it, causing you to smile.

“I know it’s silly because you are mine, but…here…it’s just you and me. You’re all mine. Your attention is all mine, and I like it that way,” he murmured, eyes glazing over.

You pressed your lips to his neck.

“I like it that way too.”

You watched as he reached over to your nightstand, grabbing your phone. Confusion filled you as you wondered what he was doing.

“Here…,” he said. “I’m leaving instructions on how to get to the compound. I want you to always be able to find me if you need me.”

You took your phone as he handed it to you, feeling him bury his face in your hair.

You had never thought that you’d need Peter so soon.

You hardly left your house, but occasionally you did have to leave for groceries. Ever since you and Peter got together, he loved doing it for you, but you had depleted a lot of your food during your heat and hadn’t realized until a month later when it was too late and you realized you had practically nothing to eat.

You had been carrying your groceries to your car when you heard footsteps behind you. It was early in the day, the parking lot empty as most people were at work or still asleep. You didn’t think much of it until they were practically on top of you. When you turned around with a frown, you stumbled back at their close proximity, back bumping into your car.

The man before you was unfamiliar, and you didn’t appreciate the way he ran his eyes over you, nostrils flaring. Your own did the same, and the familiar scent of a beta hit your nose. Goosebumps erupted over your flesh as his eyes met yours again.

“Y/N Y/L/N. That’s you, correct?”

Your frown deepened, a sinking feeling in your gut, and you swallowed. This stranger knew who you were, and you didn’t know how…nor why. Before you could confirm or refute that, he reached into his jacket and pulled out a photo. He held it up, and your eyes widened.

It was you…at home…opening the door for none other than Peter. It was nighttime in the photo, and his mask was off, but with his back to the camera, his face wasn’t visible. Your lips trembled, and you reached for it, but the man snatched it away.

“W-what do you want?”

Instead of answering you, he reached for you, yanking you away from your car. You brought your hand up to push against his nose, surprised when a crunch sound hit your ears, and he stumbled away. Groceries falling to the ground, you hurried to get inside of your car. You locked the doors just as his hand landed on the handle.

You were trembling as you struggled to start the car and almost ran him over as you pressed the gas. In your rearview, you could see him moving to go into what you presumed was his own car. Your hands shook as they clutched the wheel, mind whirling as you fought to make sense of what was going on. How had Peter been followed? How did they even find your name? Where were you going to go?

The stranger caught up to you in no time, and when his car pulled up beside yours, you noticed a second man in his passenger seat. Just when you were going to press the gas all the way down, their car swerved towards your own, and you tensed when your car slid off of the road and into the grass. Their car had stopped up ahead as yours crashed into the ditch.

A gasp escaped you at the impact, forehead hitting the wheel. You paused for a few seconds, blinking before crawling across to the passenger side. When you opened the door, you fell out and into the dense trees. You crawled into the brush, body hidden from view as you collapsed onto your stomach.

You could hear their car approaching, hear them get out, and you felt like you were going to be sick. You didn’t know what would happen if they found you, but you knew that it couldn’t be good if they were looking for Peter. It was clear that they wanted his identity, wanted to know who the masked superhero was. You could hear another car approaching from down the long stretch of road, and you figured that they could to.

It seemed that they didn’t want to draw attention to themselves because you heard them return to their car. You knew they’d be back though. They weren’t stupid. They knew that you had to be near, and you knew that you had to get up. The problem with that was your head was spinning, a searing pain behind your eyes.

You heard them drive away, and when the other car had passed, you hurried to move. Your vision was spinning as you crawled across the road, pushing yourself to your feet to stumble into the trees on the other side. Everything blended together as you tripped over your feet, and you didn’t know how far you walked when you hit the ground.

You were in and out of consciousness for what felt like hours. When your eyes finally remained open, you were relieved to find yourself in the same place you’d stumbled to. The sun overhead told you that hours had indeed passed. You had gone shopping pretty early in the morning, and you’d guess that it was afternoon now. When you reached into your pocket for your phone, you confirmed that it was 1:47 p.m.

Pushing yourself into a sitting position was a struggle, and you groaned as you pulled yourself to your feet. When you called Peter, it went straight to voicemail, and you wondered if he was on a mission or in lecture. You left him a voicemail, stumbling over your words as you pressed your hand to your head, telling him that he was in danger.

Hours passed, and you were still stumbling around upstate New York, outrunning strange men hell bent on taking you. Your phone was clutched in your hand, Peter’s directions detailed and clear. You were getting dizzy again, and when you practically fell out of the thick trees, you had to blink a few times. You were convinced that you were imagining the monstrous building before you.

You shouldn’t have been surprised that a stranger wouldn’t be able to walk on the grounds without alerting the superheroes. Your vision was starting to blur again, but you recognized the woman who flew down to land in front of you, auburn hair flying around her shoulders. You could faintly make out more figures running to where you were.

You would have collapsed again had she not caught you, and you hung onto her.

“I’m…I’m sorry,” you breathed. “…but I didn’t know where else to go.”

Your words slurred together just before sleep claimed you again.

Your hearing was the first thing to return to you, and you didn’t know where you were, but you could hear hushed voices. They were near. Your brows pinched together when you realized that you were in a bed, and when you finally peeled your eyes open, you realized that you were correct in your guess.

The room was so…white. The walls, the floor, the equipment. Looking over, even the two other beds in the room were bathed in white sheets and pillows. It took a moment for you to realize that you were in some sort of infirmary or…recovery room. You moved to sit up, only to jump when someone was suddenly at your side to help you.

Your eyes widened at the alpha before you, his hands gripping your arms as he helped you straighten. It felt surreal to be staring Captain America in the face, but not as much as you’d think. Maybe it had something to do with the mating mark that was given to you by none other than Spider-Man himself. You weren’t exactly a stranger to superheroes.

“Thank you,” you whispered, pulling away from him.

“How are you feeling?”

You turned to the feminine voice, eyes falling onto red hair and green eyes.

“You have a bit of a concussion. So I’d take it easy if I were you,” she said. “Y/N Y/L/N, right?”

The familiar question reminded you of those men, and you nodded at her.

“Is…is Peter here?”

You saw confusion flit over her beautiful features as she crossed her arms over her chest, and when you looked up at the blond next to you, he sported a similar look.

“Peter?”

It suddenly occurred to you that they might have been taken aback because you knew his true identity. You nodded at him.

“They were looking for him, for Spider-Man. I don’t know how, but…they followed him to my house one night. They know that I know him, and I didn’t know where else to go,” you told him.

Captain America blinked, and you watched the way his eyes fell onto your neck, narrowing as his nostrils flared. He let out a soft chuckle, straightening up as he shook his head.

“A lot of things are starting to make a lot more sense,” he said, more to himself than you. “No, he’s not here, right now.”

“He’s on a mission,” Black Widow added.

She moved to help you out of bed, and you let her. Peter was right. There were quite a few alphas on the team, and despite the fact that you knew they would do nothing more than protect you, you didn’t feel comfortable without Peter next to you.

“…but you can wait for him while we get you something to eat. Is that alright?”

You nodded at her, and she helped you move from the room. The compound was huge, and you couldn’t help but to take the time to admire it while she led you to the lounge room. It was strangely scarce of anyone else, and you wondered if it was done on purpose, not wanting to overwhelm you.

“How long have you and Peter…?”

The question hung in the air as you sat on the couch.

“I’ve known Peter for some months now,” you answered, rubbing your temple with a frown.

“Here.”

You looked up, taking the painkillers and sandwich from Captain America as he handed them to you. He sat on the edge of the table in front of you, face serious.

“You said that someone was after Peter.”

You nodded.

“They found me when I was going to my car and tried to take me. I crashed my car,” you suddenly added, more to yourself as if just remembering.

He asked you to describe the men, and you did with as much detail as possible. When Black Widow asked how you found them, you didn’t know if you should be truthful or not. You wondered if it would get Peter into trouble. As if reading your mind, she reassured you.

“We don’t care how you found us. We’re just glad that you did…”

You licked your lips.

“Peter told me…in case I…needed to find him,” you quietly replied.

She nodded, quickly running her eyes over you.

“When Peter started to smell different, I didn’t dwell too much on it, you know, but now it all makes sense. So you’re who he’s always running off to see…”

You sent her a sheepish smile. You noticed that Captain America had excused himself, and you could hear him on the phone in what you assumed was the kitchen.

“How did you two meet? Sorry if I’m prying, it’s just… Peter’s a lot more secretive than we thought. I’m a little taken aback by you,” she wondered.

“Um…he kind of knocked me down in my driveway one day. Literally. He was hurt from a mission and I fixed him up,” you told her with a shrug.

“…and you kept fixing him up,” she surmised.

You frowned at her, and a small smirk graced her lips.

“Peter came clean that he wasn’t doing as well on his missions as he had led us to believe. I suspect that you had a hand in the deception,” she explained.

Feeling caught, embarrassment flooded you. She simply chuckled and patted your thigh before leaving you alone. You weren’t sure how long you sat on the couch, staring at the tv and nibbling on the sandwich given to you while you waited for Peter to return. In that time, none other than Tony Stark had arrived, the dark-haired man throwing you an unreadable look as Captain America led him past you.

You had a pretty good guess as to what they were going to discuss. Not long after, the woman who’d caught you when you passed out found you and introduced herself as Wanda. She sat with you, keeping you company, and you found that she was easy to talk to. Eventually, you heard some commotion, and you perked up when you heard Peter’s voice.

You could hear another low voice mixed in, and it wasn’t hard to guess that they were arguing. You could feel Wanda’s eyes on you as you scooted to the edge of the couch, neck craning, wondering if you should stay put or not. Their voices rose, and you frowned a bit when you recognized the other voice as that of Tony Stark’s.

“I don’t care,” you heard Peter snap, his harsh tone surprising you. “Where is she?”

The question appeared to be rhetorical because immediately after, you heard his footsteps as he sniffed you out. You stood as soon as he rounded the corner, and in the two steps you took, Peter had taken five, pulling you into his arms.

“I’m okay,” you quietly told him.

He tucked his face into your neck, brushing his nose over your skin and breathing you in. You did the same, wrapping your arms around him.

“Mr. Stark said that some guys tried to kidnap you…because they were looking for me…?”

You nodded, and he tightened his hold just before pulling back to look at you. He went to reach for your face before he paused, glancing over your shoulder. You did the same, your eyes meeting Tony Stark’s, and you were reminded that you weren’t alone.

He took a step back before pulling you along. You passed Tony Stark and Captain America, and the brunette took a step forward.

“Peter-.”

“We’ll talk later, Mr. Stark,” he said over his shoulder.

Peter’s room was on the other side of the compound, and he was quick in taking you there. As soon as he shut the door behind him, his lips were on yours. The kiss was harsh as he gripped your face, unlike him, and he pulled his lips away from yours, forehead resting against your own.

“You must have been terrified,” he murmured.

“I’m alright,” you told him, reassuring him.

You could feel that he was shaking, and there was a deep frown on his face as he ran his eyes over you, hands sliding down your arms.

“I can still…smell them on you,” he said through his teeth. “The captain too…and Nat…”

You had opened your mouth to speak, but he kissed you again, swallowing your words. His hands were everywhere, and you knew what he wanted when he tugged at your shirt. He rubbed his face over you as he peeled your clothes off.

His touch was firm when he finally got you on his bed, teeth nipping at you and fingers pressing into your skin as he pinned your body beneath his own. His suit soon joined your clothes on the floor, and you gasped into his mouth when he filled you with one thrust.

“I could’ve lost you today,” he whispered as he kissed you, pinning your wrists to the bed.

“You didn’t, Peter,” you whispered back, a moan climbing out of your throat. “I’m here.”

“Can’t lose you,” he brokenly mumbled as his hips curved into yours. “I can’t-.”

He cut himself off as he pressed his lips to your neck, kissing and nipping at your mark, causing your eyes to roll into the back of your head. You didn’t know how much later he planned to talk to Tony Stark because it was some time in the early morning when he finally let you go, trapping you in his arms as you fell asleep.

You never did return to your house. Peter and Wanda cleaned the place out of everything you needed, and you quickly became a constant presence in the compound. You officially met the rest of the team that first morning, an embarrassing ordeal. You and Peter hadn’t exactly been the most quiet, and Sam cracked a joke that Peter didn’t find funny. Bucky did though, and that seemed to make Peter angrier.

In fact, he was irritated a lot lately. It started out little, a look here or a frown there, but the more acquainted you became with the rest of the team, the more quiet he became. You were never completely comfortable around the other alphas when Peter was gone, but they were never anything but nice to you. Especially Bucky. You noticed that he didn’t say much unless he was talking to Steve or Sam, but he did his best to make you feel welcome, to keep you from missing Peter when he was gone.

At least…you thought so.

“He’s doing it on purpose,” Peter grumbled one night. “He knows it bugs me.”

You tutted, wrapping your arms around him from behind as you rested your chin on his shoulder.

“Peter…he’s being nice,” you told him.

“He’s being sneaky,” he argued, voice hard.

You sighed.

“I get lonely when you’re not here, and Wanda is almost always sent with you on your missions. What do you want me to do? Lock myself in your room until you come back?”

“It’s tempting,” he whispered.

“Peter,” you admonished.

He sighed and turned around, taking your hands and playing with your fingers.

“You want me…to be happy, right? Because when I’m happy you’re happy…right?”

“Of course,” you quietly said.

“Having you all to myself makes me happy,” he whispered.

You bit your lip, frowning a bit.

“No one else can look out for you like I can… Unless you disagree?”

You shook your head, almost frantically.

“Of course not.”

He finally lifted his eyes to meet yours, brows furrowed.

“Ever since the incident, I just can’t find it in myself to trust anyone else but me with your wellbeing,” he said, and your heart clenched.

You tried to understand his worry, and so you eventually nodded.

“I’m going to talk to Mr. Stark about cutting back on my missions. At least until we can find you a new place,” he told you, surprising you with this.

Your brows rose.

“Oh! I… Peter, I like being here at the compound with you,” you replied. “Besides, it makes sense. Now you don’t have to travel back and forth just to see me.”

“Yes, but…,” he sighed, bringing your hand to his lips as he looked at you from beneath his lashes. “Don’t you miss when we had a space just for ourselves? I miss having you all to myself.”

His dark eyes were pleading, but there was an iciness there that gave you pause.

“…yeah,” you eventually admitted, and Peter smiled at you.

Tony Stark did not take Peter’s proposal well. You figured that he wouldn’t, but Peter kept trying to reassure him that it was only temporary. Either way, considering that the billionaire couldn’t physically force Peter to do anything, he was indeed around a lot more.

He was now there when you woke up, and his arms were wrapped around you every night as sleep claimed you. You made it a habit of showering together, Peter holding you to him as he lathered soap over you, lips trailing over your face any chance he got. You couldn’t deny that you preened at all of the attention, wondering how long it would last considering that Peter was helping you look for a new place to move. You wouldn’t be able to do this all the time once you did.

At least, you had thought so.

You could hear Peter and Tony arguing as you walked down the hall, nearing his room with a cup of tea in hand. You winced at the older man’s harsh tone, but it was Peter’s venomous one that made you frown.

“Kid, this doesn’t make any bit of sense, and you know it.”

“I’m not just going to leave her unprotected again, Mr. Stark,” Peter spat. “I’m going with her, and that’s that. Nothing has to change.”

“The two of you might as well stay here then. Doesn’t that sound more logical? If it’s privacy you want, hell, I can have an entire separate wing built for the two of you-.”

“I don’t want her here!”

You jumped at his sudden outburst, and Tony sighed.

“Peter, I know you don’t want a repeat of last time, and that’s why the compound is the safest place for her to be. There are more than enough people to protect-.”

“No.”

Peter’s response was clipped, leaving no room for discussion, and you took the lull in conversation as a sign to walk around the corner. Tony’s back was to you, and Peter’s face was pinched with anger, body tight with tension begging to be released. When your eyes met his, all of that seemed to seep out of him as his shoulders relaxed. Tony turned to tersely greet you as you slipped past him.

Peter’s hand found the back of your neck as you went to move past him too, pulling you to him as he glared at Tony. You watched as his jaw clenched, another sigh leaving him as his eyes flickered between the two of you.

“We’ll finish discussing this later, Peter.”

The door closed and locked behind him after his departure, and you looked at Peter with a frown.

“You’re moving with me?”

“I’m not repeating the same mistake as last time,” he told you.

“I think Mr. Stark is right,” you said with a frown. “Just let him build another wing or whatever. No one would dare try anything here.”

“You’re not staying here,” he quietly said, walking away from you.

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not going to let you stay here so the unmated alphas in this place can keep sniffing around you,” he sneered, glaring at you.

You reared back at that, eyes wide. You thought that he had gotten over this, this narrative that he seemed to be convinced of.

“Peter, that… You don’t really believe that…do you?” you scoffed.

Peter briefly closed his eyes, letting out a soft sigh as he approached you. His hands found your face, lips brushing your forehead.

“Of course, you don’t see it. You give everyone the benefit of the doubt. You don’t see what I see…”

“Peter, these are your friends. They love you, and they wouldn’t-.”

“There’s a grain of truth in those ‘jokes’ that Sam is always making. You don’t’ see how Bucky looks at you when you’re not paying attention…”

You were floored by his words, having a hard time believing them. He scoffed.

“I even catch the captain slipping sometimes when he thinks no one is looking.”

You weren’t sure you believed that, but you didn’t want to insinuate that Peter was a liar. Regardless, he seemed to believe what he was saying, and so you wrapped your arms around him.

“If that’s true Peter, no one can take me away from you,” you quietly said. “I’m yours, and that’s never going to change.”

You kissed him, but somehow, you felt that your words had no affect on him. He kissed you back, humming against your lips.

“Tell me that again…please,” he demanded with a smile.

“I’m yours,” you repeated as he wrapped his arm around your waist, taking a step back.

He deepened the kiss, grip tightening on you, almost painfully so.

“Mm, now show me.”

Peter’s behavior remained much the same. His presence a constant throughout your day, but again, you weren’t complaining. He was scenting you every chance he got, and his lips were always on your mark, a content sigh leaving you whenever his chest rumbled. The nights were usually when Peter had his hands on you, body pinning yours to his bed as he claimed you.

However, he had started to wake you up with his face between your legs, sometimes pulling you away to his room during the middle of the day. He always seemed to be hungry for you, and you’d be stupid to find fault in that. Sure, it cut into the time you spent with Wanda, but Peter’s touch soothed you in a way that only your alpha could.

The bruises he left behind didn’t even hurt that much, and the pain left behind from his harsh grip on your hair never lasted long. He was more than happy to let you sleep the day away after exhausting you the night before, periodically bringing food to you. The day everything changed, was the day you were supposed to train with Wanda.

She’d convinced you that you needed to learn to protect yourself better. You both knew that Peter would never allow you to be in a position to do so, but somehow, you’d been able to talk him into it. You didn’t know if he figured it couldn’t hurt, or if he was humoring you. However, both Wanda and Peter had been sent on a last-minute mission. Tony’s franticness had made it apparent that it was important.

You’d been weakly throwing punches at the punching bags when Bucky offered to help. Having been under the impression that no one else was here, you were happy that someone was available to train you. He was a good teacher, and by the end of the session, you actually felt like you’d learned something.

It was later that day, when you’d just come out of the shower, when you heard the commotion. You had run out of Peter’s room to make sure that no one was hurt, and you only increased your pace when you heard Peter’s voice in the fray. The scene that met you in the entranceway made your eyes widen.

Just past the front door, Peter was being held down by one of Tony’s suits, the man himself standing over Peter with a frown on his face. Across from them, Bucky was pinned to the wall by the webbing that had been splayed across his neck. Peter’s eyes found yours when you neared, and he grunted.

“Mr. Stark, I’m fine okay?”

His tone didn’t match his words, and you wanted to argue that he wasn’t fine.

“You just tried to kill Robocop over here, Peter,” Tony argued, making your eyes widen.

He followed Peter’s gaze when he realized that he wasn’t paying attention to him, and with a sigh, let him go. Peter was glaring at Bucky as he stood, and you watched in confusion as he neared you. You heard Tony sigh again, watching as he rubbed his forehead before going to free the super soldier.

“What’s going on?”

He ignored your question, opting instead to grab your hand and pull you along. He was walking so fast that you almost tripped several times in trying to keep up with him. As soon as you made it back to his room, the door was slammed shut, and your eyes were wide as he pressed his hand to the door, your back against it.

“Why does he smell like you?”

His question was quiet, voice steady, but you could see the anger in his eyes.

“Bucky? He helped me in the training room,” you told him, realizing that’s what all of this was about.

He heaved a sigh, pushing away from the door to sit down, head falling into his hands.

“You know that Wanda was supposed to, but she got sent off with you.”

You slowly walked towards him, squatting before him.

“Peter,” you called to him.

“I don’t want you near him,” he whispered, conviction in his voice. “…any of them. The thought drives me crazy.”

You bit your lip, annoyance bubbling up inside of you.

“What am I supposed to do, Peter? Lock myself away? You’re being ridiculous.”

“…and you’re being naïve,” he spat, eyes hard as he looked at you. “Unless you like them sniffing around you?”

“No!”

His eyes darkened at your tone, and he went to say something else when his nostrils flared. He ran his eyes over you, gaze blazing as his jaw clenched.

“You still smell like him,” he sneered.

You heaved a sigh, standing up.

“I’ll take another shower,” you told him.

You could feel his eyes on you as you entered the bathroom, and you pressed your hands to the counter, staring into the mirror. Peter wasn’t like this when it had just been the two of you, and you found yourself missing that. Most of all though, you missed how different you thought he’d been. You knew that things would very likely go back to that once you got your own place again but…

Surely you couldn’t go the rest of your life locked away in your house, interacting with no one but Peter? You’d grown to like the rest of the team, considering them friends. Were you now meant to give up those friendships?

You went to get undressed, and in doing so, you knocked over your toothbrush. It clattered to the floor, and you bent to pick it up. When you stood, a gasp escaped you, the toothbrush pinging against the floor again as you dropped it.

Peter was standing behind you, and you pressed your hand to your chest, attempting to calm your heart. He neared, and his chest brushed against your back as he placed his hands on the counter, caging you in.

“I’m sorry,” he said, pressing his lips to your bare shoulder. “…you just drive me crazy.”

His forehead was pressed to your shoulder now, and you could feel him shaking. You reached back to lay your hand on the back of his head, running your fingers through his hair. He continued before you could speak.

“I keep thinking it’ll be enough. That if I come inside of you enough, they’ll back off…”

You frowned.

“…if I leave as many marks as I can, scent you enough, make sure you’re attached to my side…they’ll stay away…”

He nipped the skin of your back, and your frown deepened.

“Peter…”

“I mean, do I have to fuck you in every room of this compound until they get it?”

Your eyes widened.

“It’s never enough,” he said more to himself. “So what choice do I have to hide you away? Make things go back to the way they were…when it was just you and me…”

You moved to straighten, but he pressed his chest more firmly against your back, making you bend. You pushed back, but one of his hands came up to press in between your shoulders, shoving you down until your cheek was pressed against the counter.

“Peter,” you gasped, reaching back.

“If I have to tire you out so that you can never leave this room until we finally leave, then so be it.”

You tried to push yourself up, but his hold was firm. His hand slid up to press on the back of your neck, and you winced, shaking as you both felt and heard him release himself. You whimpered at the pain that traveled through your neck under his grasp, reaching back again when he yanked you up. Your eyes found his in the mirror, his gaze ravenous.  

“Peter, I have to shower-.”

“What better way to get Bucky’s stench off of you than to replace it with my own? You think if I bathe you in my seed there’ll be any trace of him left?”

He didn’t give you time to answer that before he was forcing your cheek against the counter again. He pushed into you, and your toes brushed the ground, a yelp leaving you. His strokes were quick and forceful, skin slapping against yours. No matter which way you moved, you weren’t able to get away from him.

His hand found your hair while the other pinned a wrist to the counter top, chest pinning you down as he leaned over you. His nose brushed along your ear, lips eventually finding their way to your neck, and you shuddered. He showed attention to your mating mark, and you hated the way your body welcomed the feeling it brought over you.

“Peter,” you protested, lips trembling.

“It’s okay,” he whispered. “When I’m done, you won’t even remember what he smells like.”

Your lashes fluttered with every snap of his hips. It was so hard to remember that he’d forced himself inside of you, the comforting scent and feel of your alpha making you want to submit.

“You won’t go near any of them.”

You whimpered, pulsing around him and squirming beneath him as the command washed over you.

“From now on, you won’t leave this room without me,” his harsh tone filled your ears.

You didn’t respond, too busy trying to swallow down the moan threatening to escape. Tears kissed your eyes at his assault, and he kissed your cheek, licking them away.

“You’re my omega. All mine...”

His lips found yours as he thrust into you.

“…and I’m going to keep reminding them.”

~

tags: @harryspet​ @mcudarklibrary​ @darkficreposter​ @xoxabs88xox​ @readermia​ @nickyl316h​ @captainchrisstan​ @sebabestianstan101​ @villanellevi​ @opheliadawnwalker3​ @notyourtypicalrose​ @coconutqueen21​ @hurricanerin​ @lokislastlove​

[swtki]

HP Boys: Surprise Pregnancy Head Cannons

Summary: The HP boys and their reaction to their s/o (afab) being pregnant when its not planned.

A/N: This takes place post Hogwarts so all characters are 18+, though no real smut happens in this so its not an 18+ fic.

WARNINGS: UNPLANNED PREGNANCY, MENTIONS OF PRO CHOICE OPINIONS, MENTIONS OF SEX IN LITE TERMS, SWEARING, FLUFF, MENTIONS OF ALCOHOL, ALSO THIS IS SUPER LONG SORRY LOL

Draco

So everything is going great for the happy couple, you two just moved into a flat together and are working normal jobs, drinking wine like adults.

And sure, Draco knows he wants to marry you, but he knows you’re not ready to settle down like that so he just plans and dreams.

Due to poor choices, when you’re late by two weeks, you know what it probably is.

Draco doesn’t even notice that you ran out to the store and came back and hid in the bathroom for 10 minutes. CEO of minding his own business ig

You just kinda...walk up to him and hand him all 3 tests while your eyes fill with tears because what if he demands you get an abortion?

Or what if he fucks off to god knows where?

But instead he just looks at you with the most un-draco like smile. Like his face was soft and it looked like he could cry any moment.

“Oh my god,” He says, putting his hand on your belly, “I can be ready for this, but if you aren’t then we can you know...”

“No, I want it” then both of you rejoice bc yay baby!

Cut to 6 months later when your feet hurt so bad you have to lay down and watch while Draco fails to put a crib together.

He eventually gets it done tho.

And when the time comes, he’s built and arranged everything for your bundle of joy.

Harry

So you guys are probably already married, but with everything at the ministry going on, it makes Harry less than a family man.

You both agree that it’s probably better to wait so you can be home and yk...raise it.

Well smart man Harry forgets that to not have a kid you need to use protection.

So of course when your period is late you don’t think about it, until its four weeks late.

That night, you and Harry are laying in bed, and thats when you tell him.

“Harry..I’m late.”

“Late for what?” headass.

You: 😳😐

Him: 👁👁😲😲

He’s hesitant to say anything, because he knows its ultimitley up to you what happens with it until its out.

“I think I want to keep it...you know it wont remember much for the first year and a half so if things are stressful it will be okay and-“

“Love...Its going to be perfect”

Mf built the crib in like 45 minutes I swear.

And of course he forced you to keep up with your vitamins, pre natal care, and appointments.

Swear tho you’re about to kill him because cofFeE

But the way he holds your baby 🥺 its his most valued thing ever now.

Ron

Ron is iffy on the kid thing sometimes.

He does want them, but only later when you guys have lived and travled.

So no, you two haven’t planned nor is it even in the picture when your wedding roles around.

It’s in the early days of the marriage when you see his family at the burrow on the way back from the honeymoon.

And of course Molly knows

Because Weasleys are hyperfertile I swear.

She takes you into the kitchen and puts her hands on your arms, shes got that big Mrs.Weasley smile on too.

“I knew it!” She says and pulls you in for a hug, “How far dear??”

You’re just standing there like🧍🏻

“I can see it by the way you glow! Oh my you and my Ron must be so happy!” This woman doesn’t notice that you’re confused.

“Wait what? Mrs. Weasley what are you-?” Then you count the days, “Oh. Well I guess I just found out for myself”

Her face falls slightly, but then she tells you can make you a potion that will tell you if you are or not, stan.

The stupid potion turns green when you spit into it, so everything is confirmed.

That night, you and Ron are getting ready for bed in the guest room and you decide to tell him.

“Ron, sweetie. We need to talk.” He looks like he’s gonna start crying but sits next to you on the bed.

“Y/N...I know its scary but please, we just got married I don’t want to divorce quite just yet 🥺🥺”

“Ron I-“ you start smiling, “I’m pregnant you dufus.”

He just freezes, for a while. Not saying anything, he just looks at the wall with his mouth ajar.

So you get up and go to Ginny.

“Gin, I broke him.”

“Ew, I don’t want to know about how you and him”

“No, I told him that I’m pregnant.”

“Oh, yeah that would do it. Just I don’t know... Give him a minute?”

You give him several, getting a glass of water then heading back up to the room.

Ginny was right, he needed a minute.

“I don’t...I wasn’t...you were.?”

“You don’t have to stay, but I think we can do it. Plus, you would disapoint your mom if you left so...”

“Okay...we’ll do it. I’ll be the best damn Father you have ever seen.” He says, talking to your womb.

Well...he’s a father I’ll give him that.

Pro of having a Weasley baby: free crib thats already put together.

Even if it looks like a death trap.

“We’ll put some blankets over it don’t worry”

You know how some Dads hold their parters hand during the delivery? Yeah he got sick and was moral support from the outside.

To be fair, you weren’t screaming in pleasure by any means.

Scary. But beautiful.

He shows the kid to everyone, he might be more in love with the baby than he is with you.

Ron see’s the appeal of having kids now.

Neville

Moving in with your boyfriend is always fun, right up until you guys go at it so much you forget protection more than once.

You think about it, then move on with your day.

Until the doctor calls, then “oh fuck”

Romance Neville bf

“Why aren’t you having any wine? I thought it was your favorite?”

“I don’t think fetal alcohol syndrome is my favorite.” BRO HE SPAT

But he looks up with tears in his eyes, and runs over to you to grasp you in a hug.

“Oh my god! You’re pregnant! Oh my - We’re gonna be parents!! Oh my god we’re gonna be parents oh-“ Que you petting his hair till he’s calm again.

Lets be honest, this man probably swapped the herbology books for the parenting guides.

“Well I mean I’m just wondering if we should go with this color or this one”

“Nev, it doesn’t matter. Our baby will not care.”

“I read in my book that Infants actually can recognize mood in-“

He won’t let you do anything during your pregnancy.

Gotta love a man who cries because he loves you so much and you’re having his kid.

“I never had a father, what if I do it wrong? What if the baby hates me and runs away at seven?”

“We’ve got quite a lot of time before then.”

He was there during delivery, letting you crush his hand like a champ.

You can’t help but cry when you see him sleeping on the floor next to the crib, its so sweet.

Fred

You two most likely already had two kids, so you decided to wait a bit so your hands weren’t quite full.

Well...your body decided not to wait.

A test provides the two lines, another wild child.

The two toddlers already run around like thing one and thing two, only with red hair.

I think Fred would gladly make the family dinner, and wear an apron. He’d own it, as he should.

But mf gotta not drop the salad bowl when you tell him of the fetus inside you.

“Fred we are going to have a bee-ay-bee-why.”

Your five year old has just begun to spell 😐

He’s happy tho.

Like over the fuckin moon.

He buys the two kids big brother/sister shirts too 🥺🥺

He knows the drill pretty well, so he isn’t too worried about the future.

But its funny that he still freaks out about the crib and feeding chair since he gave it away, you know because you guys werent having another kid.

He packed a hospital bag and kept it in the trunk, counting down the days.

Hours of delivery (He just sat back and held your hand) only to end up with a room full of 7 Weasley family members.

Fred always said that 3 was his lucky number :)

George

You guys were taking it slow, no marriage until you both felt it was time. And certainly no children before that.

Well you know...things changed when the test was positive.

You slid it over on the table, tears pooling in your eyes. He was stunned and quiet, which made you burst out sobbing because you knew that neither of you planned on having a baby.

But to your surprise he starts to smile.

“I want whatever you want, I’m staying by your side no matter what.”

“I mean...would it really be so bad? A house, a kid, a dog?” He holds your hand as you think aloud.

You both give it a week to think it over and the virdict is to keep it.

Thats when he decides he has to marry you, asap because he loves you and will never let you go especially now.

He loves to gush about the carrier of his child, to him you are a godess.

He’s the Dad with a predestination complex.

“Y/N, I just see him being a star quiditch player”

“George, we don’t know if it’s a him.”

He rolls his eyes “Okay then I can see her being a star-“

He made Hermione take you out for a movie date so he could rearrange your bedroom, since you only had a single bedroom flat.

You come back to a new set up including a cot.

Damn pregnancy hormones make brain go 🥺😭😭

He freaks when your water breaks lol

ceo of driving like a maniac to the hospital.

He can’t hold your hand, he’s pacing back and forth, sweating and maybe crying though he’ll never admit to it.

You get the joy of watching him cuddle the baby while refusing to give your child to you.

“George I’d like to hold-“

“No, you need your sleep honey, don’t worry”

Hogging the child.

Cedric

Its no secret that Cedric wants a baby someday.

And he makes it clear your wedding will be spectacular too.

However, finding out you’re pregnant the week of your dream wedding was a shock.

A shock that made you bang your head into the wall because how could you be so stupid?? We had a plan??

So you decide to wait until after the wedding, that way it wont add onto the stress (happy stress) of the wedding.

Cedric keeps trying to fill your glass at the reception, to which you kindly refuse saying you want to remember the night entirely.

Yeah he’s like 🤨 mhm okay.

You can only pick at the dinner because ew salmon doesn’t sound like an option if you want to keep the contents of your stomach.

As everyone waves goodbye to the car, and you both set off into married life, he leans over.

“I may be out of my mind, but are you...?”

“Pregnant.” His face lights up, pulling you into a hug.

Finally, your car pulls up to a small cottage with lush garden scapes all around, putting a hand out, he walks you both from the car to the door.

“Ced, where are we?”

“Home.”

Somehow it was perfect with Cedric, even when it was rushed.

He loved talking to your womb, even if it was weird that he was talking about the babies future brothers and sisters.

“Cedric, slow down. We haven’t even had this one yet”

Basically he is father of the year before he’s a full father.

He’s there while you deliver, holding your hand and telling you how great you’re doing.

He doesn’t even complain when you insult him <3.

He updates you on everything.

If his eyes aren’t on that child, he’s either asleep or dead.

I think Cedric was meant to be a family man, because he loves everything about being one.

Taglist: @truly-insatiable @amourtentiaa @imdoingathingmom @annasdani @anchoeritic @mullthingsoverinthehotwater @cedricsyellowscarf @faeinorbit

[buckyownsmylife]

Give your heart a break - Chris Evans smut

The one where Chris is a biker and decided he wants to start your forever.

Warnings: I’m gonna tag this as dubcon just to be safe, Chris definitely crosses a line without proper consent, breeding kink, biker!Chris AU, bondage, (belt used to restrain hands), dirty talk

A/N:  this is for my own birthday celebration challenge! Like I explained here, I’m going to try to fill every single AU I listed with the characters I picked for the challenge, and since the deadline if May 27, these fics will be posted randomly, as I finish them. Hope you guys like it!

Chris’ P.O.V.

“Hey, baby!” The smile she opened up when she turned around to see it was truly me who had just arrived at her coffee shop made my heart beat faster than it ever did while I was away from her.

I guess the adrenaline the bike used to give me was nothing compared to her effect on me.

“What are you doing here?” She exclaimed, jumping on my waiting arms so I could twirl her around, like I always did after we spent some time apart. She looked just the same, which comforted my heart somewhat.

I hated leaving her, but this nomadic lifestyle I’d chosen for myself long before we ever met would never work for her. It’s why she always resisted accepting any kind of labels to what we shared.

That was all about to change, though. Even if she still didn’t realize it.

“What? Can’t I stop by to visit my best girl?” Her smile became even bigger at the pet name. It was the indication I needed of her true feelings. She wanted to be mine, she really just couldn’t handle the biker lifestyle.

“Of course, you can. I just wasn’t expecting you, that’s all. Sit down, I’ll bring your usual order!” I watched as she fixed me a black coffee and picked a muffin with great care before bringing it to me. I had no doubt it was the warmest one on the tray. “Will you be sticking around for tonight?”

I could see the glint of hope and desire in her eyes. I knew that even though she didn’t want to be tied down to me, she hadn’t looked for pleasure in anyone else ever since I first kissed her. And even though I was sure she thought differently, neither had I.

She owned my heart ever since we met. There was no one else I’d rather have underneath my body. “I think you’ll soon realize I’ll be sticking around for a lot longer.”

Her eyes lit up at that, excitement clear in her features. “A whole week?” She’d been asking me for that for as long as I’ve known her, and I’d never been able to stick through the whole seven days. There was always some shipment to assess, brothers to help.

This time, nothing would force me away from her.

“You’ll see.” She rolled her eyes at my attempt at keeping a mystery, and I know what was going on through her pretty little head. I was already too secretive as it was, there was no need for more hiding. But I had a plan, and I was going to stick to it.

“I’ll be right here until it’s time to lock up. I’ll walk you home, how does that sound?” The way the corner of her eyes crinkled as she smiled at me was enough of a response, yet she gave me one anyway.

“Perfect.”

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“Stop that.” The order startled me, too lost in the haze of lust to realize that he’d stripped down to his boxers, finally noticing that I’d climbed on the bed and had been playing with myself while I waited for him to join me.

Usually, I’d immediately follow his directions - almost instinctively, actually. It was probably some remaining fear that used to exist inside of me when I saw him on his bike just outside my shop, before I decided to give him a chance and began this little adventure between us…

I never wanted to see his anger directed at me. But tonight, I was feeling brave for whatever reason. Maybe it was because of how much I had missed him this time we spent apart and how I unconsciously resented him for always leaving. We’d never have an actual relationship, and it was all because of him.

So maybe that awoke the brat in me, because all I gave him was a smirk, keeping the movements on my clit as I watched him watch me. “I don’t think you deserve that,” I taunted, taking notice of the way he seemed transfixed by the wetness gathered on my lower lips, until I stopped my movements and raised my hand to slather it on my lips.

“You’ve left me all alone so many nights, with only these fingers as company…” I returned them to the apex of my thighs, pushing them inside of me this time, making sure to exaggerate my moan at the relieving sensation of being filled. “I think you deserve to suffer for a while longer.”

He looked so beautiful with his eyebrows furrowed, the length of his eyelashes and the pinkness of his lips almost making me overlook how threatening he still looked, all tatted up, clearly disappointed in me.

“Stop it,” he warned once more, but I wasn’t in a submissive mood. Not tonight.

“Why should I?” I argued, fucking myself faster. “I’m not yours. You can’t boss me around.” That was the wrong thing to say, I realized the second his eyes darkened, jaw clenching at my defiance. He was on me in a second, easily gathering my wrists in one of his hands as he pulled them up in the direction of the headboard, and it was only when I felt the leather around them that I realized he’d picked up his belt to tie me to bed.

“Yes, you are,” he breathed out against my face, eyes looking directly in mine to show me just how serious he was. “And you should know better than to disobey me.” The authoritative tone in his voice had me shivering, especially after he pulled away and stopped covering my body with his, taking advantage of how I was bound to the bed to drink in my naked figure.

“I promise I’ll behave,” I tried to argue, legs flailing around his figure until he grabbed them. “I-I just missed you, that’s all.” The way his huge, rough hand felt on the inside of my thighs should be illegal. And he knew just how much it affected me, as he smirked and looked up at me from under his eyelashes with a knowing glint in his gaze.

“Don’t you trust me?” He questioned, head tilted as his thumb slipped and found place right over my nub. “I just want to make you feel good, sugar.” I hesitated for a moment - I hadn’t really experimented with any sort of kinky sex before, even though I expected him to try something unusual ever since the first time we were together. Guess this was starting small. I could take it.

Besides, I needed him too fucking badly.

“Yeah?” He confirmed after I nodded, tone almost patronizing as he kept rubbing me and playing with himself. “Got yourself wet and ready for me, won’t need to prepare you, huh? Guess your disobedience has it’s advantages.”

All I could do was whimper, especially when he finally leaned over me again, resting his hard cock over my navel. “Feel this?” He asked, and I nodded once more. “It’s about to be inside of you, pretty girl.”

And so he grasped my hips and adjusted himself to start pushing in, spearing me open. Having him for the first time after a while was always a challenge, and although he always took it slow to get me used to him again, he was never one to give me time to accept the intrusion. He just took his time, thrusting in and out, taking note of every little moan that I released as his hips pressed against mine.

“Oh, fuck…” I groaned, wanting to wrap my arms around him but unable to do so, due to my restraints. “T-that f-feels s-so good!” I was positively trembling as he started to pick up his pace, cocky smile only adding to my arousal.

“Oh, yeah?” He panted, drops of sweat starting to form on his naked body from the frantic activity. “Then fucking scream it, sweetheart. Tell your entire neighborhood how good it feels to have my cock inside of you.”

I must have obeyed him, from the way my throat felt hoarse when I finally came back from my orgasm, but I couldn’t remember it. I was too far gone. All I knew, all I could focus on was the way it felt to have his cock rhythmically dragging in and out of me, the sounds of my juices reverberating off the walls.

“Pretty little pussy,” he complimented, eyes focused on the part of me he was so obsessed with. “Can’t wait to fill it up with my cum.” Well, that jolted me back into reality, suddenly pulling on his belt again.

“W-what?” Only when he heard my question and the hesitation in my voice did he raise his gaze to meet my eyes, a patient smile defining his expression.

“C’mon, pretty girl… You know you want it too. Don’t you want an ‘us’?” He urged while I could only stare back, mouth agape. “You know I want more, I’ve always wanted more. Now I’m ready to give it to you. And I know you want me too.”

His voice was soothing against my ear as he kept fucking me, “You want to be round with my baby, don’t you? You want me to keep you filled all day long, until your breasts are heavy and your belly starts growing, so everyone will know you’re now undeniably mine.”

And to be his is all I’d ever wanted, but I never expected it to happen like this. I could only watch, frozen in place as he came deep inside of me, moaning right by my ear before kissing my temple.

“I love you, sweetheart.” He’d never said those words to me before. I don’t think he’d ever said them to anyone. “I know it’s fucked up that I’m only now telling you this, but I do. And I wanna fall asleep next to you every day from now on.”

And so he kept me plugged, full of his cum even as he released my wrists and lulled me to sleep, and for the next seven days, when I woke up in the morning, he was really still there.

“You’re really here to stay,” I whispered on the eight night, cradling his face in amazement as he smiled before kissing my palm.

“Forever.”

[andreafmn]

I'm Not Afraid - Chapter 1

Word Count: 3,325

Characters: Female Reader Argent Character, Original Male Argent Character, Derek Hale, Allison Argent, Scott McCall, Stiles Stilinski, Isaac Lahey, Lydia Martin, Chris Argent, Jackson Whittemore

Story Description: (Y/N) Argent arrived at Beacon Hills to put to rest her father's sister, Kate Argent. For the first time, her family has decided to settle down and sustain a life in this interesting small town. After 17 years, (Y/N) has the opportunity to establish interpersonal relationships but will she be ready to face the complications that come with relating to her cousin's, Allison, friends; especially, the infamous Derek Hale. She will face the adventure of being associated with the Derek and McCall pack as well as being faced with the discovery of certain aspects of her life she never imagined.

*DISCLAIMER* I do not own in any way Teen Wolf, all credits of the pre-established characters, script, and storyline belong to Jeff Davis and MTV Network. The only thing I own is Argent Reader insert, her immediate family, and her storyline, as well as her effects in the others' storyline.

Chapter: 1/?

Chapter Description: (Y/N) finally arrives at Beacon Hills for the funeral of her aunt and meets a certain wolf to which she feels a special connection.

A/N: Second fandom I'm writing for. I love Teen Wolf so much and the trope of hard Derek but only soft for you makes my heart sing. If you enjoy my writing I’ll also be posting them in AO3 and Wattpad along with other stories (I also hope to start taking requests if ya’ll want) Hope you enjoy and all constructive criticism is encouraged.

Next ->

Chapter 1

I hugged the black coat to my body as hard as I could whilst pushing through the sea of press. Our family's last name became quite known after the reports about my aunt, whose burial we were attending. She had allegedly burned down a house with people in it.  She killed them in cold blood. I hugged my grieving uncle and his less grieving wife, then my cousin who had a painful look on her face. I hugged her the longest. She let herself crumble on my arms, sobbing uncontrollably. Even though she was a horrible person she was still our aunt, family.

I took my seat behind Allison when my father, my mother, uncle Chris, and aunt Victoria stood up. Allison didn't lift her head and neither did I. I just tried to comfort her.

"It's been such a long time I don't expect you to call me grandpa." We both looked up to see a white-haired man who resembled the Argent features. "Don't worry about it, just call me Gerard." He hugged both of us, an overpowering aura emanating from his being. When we were engulfed, I looked to the side and saw two boys squatting behind a gravestone. If they were hiding, they were doing a horrible job at it.

"But I prefer Grandpa," Gerard said walking to his seat. I sat back down and drifted off during the whole ceremony. Once it was over, I joined my parents and we drove to our new house. I have a feeling that life here will be very interesting.

That weekend I decided that I had been putting working out off for too long. I changed into comfortable workout clothes and gave food to my dog, Brody. I headed out the door, put my earbuds on, and started to jog. I really didn't know where I was going since it was a new place for me, all I know is that I kept running until I reached the woods. The bad thing about this, I had no idea how to get back home. Even though I knew of this sidetrack and I knew I would be late to get back home, I kept running, needing a release from the mundane feeling of being new in town and having to reunite from our estranged family in a funeral.

I had gained a lot of momentum. God knows how fast I was running at this point that is until I hit something, it almost felt like a wall. When I looked up, I saw a very handsome guy. Spiked hair, green eyes, and slight stubble. If it weren't for the fact that I was already sweaty I would have started to sweat showers of how nervous I was. That is until he opened his mouth.

"Watch where you're going." He growled at me.

"How about you fucking move and not be a prick?" He looked at me with big eyes, probably in surprise, but quickly changed to his menacing look. Who was he trying to fool?

"Well, this is private property, which means that you're trespassing, meaning you should pay more attention to your surroundings."

"I'm sorry but a burnt-down house with almost no walls or roof is barely a property. So, how about you stop being an idiot and I can be on my way." I started to jog once again but he gained my attention once more.

"You're new here, aren't you?" I turned around to face him.

"What's it to you?" He raised his eyebrow.

"I'll take that as a yes." The cockiness oozed out of his pores.

"And why the hell should that matter?"

"Because no one would dare talk to me that way."

"Who would be afraid of a little sour wolf?" He tensed up. "Dude, chill. I'm just kidding. But I doubt anyone would be afraid of Mr...."

"Hale. Derek Hale." He said extending his hand to me. Gee, after screaming at me he wants us to be acquaintances. I thought about not shaking his hand, but I didn't want to be rude. Well, more than I have been already.

"(Y/N). Argent." I shook his hand. Strong grip. Suddenly I felt a rush of déjà vu; I had met him the day before. "Wait, aren't you that guy I accidentally hit with my grocery cart yesterday?"

"Yeah, that really hurt. You hit my ankle. You could've had me limping."

"But you're not, so be grateful I didn't break your ankle." He laughed. "Damn, if I had known how cocky you really were, I would've hit you harder."

"So, you admit that you hit me?"

"Oh yeah, of course, I hit you. Accidentally that is."

"Yeah, yeah."

I looked around trying to find where the hell I had come from but there wasn't even the slightest trail as to where I was to go.

"So, miss (Y/N). Do you even know your way home?"

"No, but I'm sure I can find my way back." Then, he took keys out of his pocket and pointed to his car.

"Come on, I'll drive you around and you just tell me when something seems familiar."

"And why should I go with the guy that almost ripped out my throat for bumping into him? For all I know you could be driving me to my death." I crossed my arms over my chest, and he let out a loud sigh.

"Look, I'm sorry for snapping. But I'm trying to be nice. That doesn't happen very often."

"Alright, Mr. Hale. I'll let you take me home just because you are being nice now, after being a prick, and I'm exhausted."

"See, no one can resist me." I rolled my eyes at his cockiness. Seriously does he buy cans of it on eBay?

"Don't get cocky with me. I can punch the living daylights out of you." He chuckled and started to drive.

We drove for about 20 minutes until I finally recognized the curb that led to my house. Upon arriving at my driveway, I got out of the car and walked to the driver’s side.

"Give me your hand” For some reason, I felt compelled to do so. He took a pen and wrote down a number. "Call me if you ever need a tour of the town."

Three weeks later, I walked inside the school to meet up with Allison. I moved here with my family since dad had some business taking float. Being the new kid in town is never fun. I would know. I switch schools almost every year. The pro and con about this would be not being attached to anyone. Usually, I'm the one who doesn't talk to anyone and is called a freak. A derogatory term given to people who are way too different from others, but a title I wore proudly.

"Oh my gosh, (Y/N)! How have you been?" Allison wrapped her arms around me and hugged me tightly. It was as if she hadn't seen me just three weeks ago.

"Hi, Allison. I've been good, getting acclimated to the new town. You?" You would think that because we were cousins, I would be more affectionate towards her but honestly, I wouldn't see her again for like three more years, so what's the point?

"I'm good. A little rocky at the start of coming here but good." Then, a boy with a buzz cut and one with great brown hair walked by and smiled at Alli. "Ooh, you should come meet my friends. Stiles, Scott!! Come here." The boys turned around with goofy grins on their faces.

"Hey, Allison. Who's this?" Buzzcut kid said.

"This is my cousin, (Y/N). She just moved here from Virginia."

"Pleasure to meet you. I'm Scott." The one with the great hair said.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Stiles." I shook their hands and smiled.

"Nice to meet you, too, buzzcut." Allison and Scott laughed but Stiles only ran his hand through his hair, suddenly becoming hyperaware of his lack of locks.

"Allison. Who might this sexy lady be?" I rolled my eyes. The last thing I need is a narcissist with a god-complex trying to get close.

"Oh, Jackson, this is my cousin, (Y/N)."

"Hi." He extended his hand and looked me up and down.

"Hi." I smiled sarcastically, and when I didn't extend my hand, he dropped his.

Finally, after standing awkwardly behind Allison whilst her friends talked, the bell rang. Talk about saved by the bell.

"Hey, (Y/N), what's your first class?" I checked my schedule.

"Um, chemistry."

"Oh, good, then you're coming with us to Mr. Harris' class," Scott said pointing towards him and Stiles. I smiled and walked behind them.

Once we got to the classroom everyone turned to me, the ever-present sign of being new in the class evident in the stare of my classmates.

"Um, hi, my name is (Y/N) Argent and I'm new." The teacher, whom I guess is Mr. Harris, turned around to face me.

"Oh, yes, Miss Argent. Welcome. You will be sitting next to Isaac Lahey. Lahey, raise your hand." Once Isaac raised his hand, I noticed he was sat near Stiles and Scott. Two people I was trying to avoid. As I walked past, I accidentally pushed Stiles' book on his lap, startling him, resulting in an awkward descent from his lab stool onto the floor.

"Hi, again. I guess we are gonna see a lot of each other for the rest of the school year." I nodded and he scratched the back of his neck. "So, um, what school did you come from?"

"Lancaster High," I responded whilst writing down what Mr. Harris was writing on the board. Stiles kept trying to talk to me, but I would only give him short, cold answers or just ignore him. That is until Mr. Harris called our attention, that's when he finally got the memo to shut up.

"I'm sorry to bother you, but I just wanted to introduce myself since we're gonna be seated next to each other all year. I'm Isaac."

"I figured." I tried giving him my best smile. The vibe he was giving off seemed like he needed it. "I'm (Y/N)."

"Well, nice to meet you, (Y/N). Now I'll leave you to the class because if I don't I know I'll be failing even more than I am."

"Oh, well, maybe I can tutor you some time. I'm actually really good at science. My mom was a chemist professor once upon a time so I'm bound to understand all this."

"Really?!" His puppy eyes seemed to light up and I nodded. "That would actually be amazing."

"Sure thing. Now let's get back to class."

After Chemistry finished, I put everything in my bag as quickly as possible and sped to my next class, Math. Thankfully, none of Allison's friends shared this class with me but I did share it with Isaac.  I didn't consider him much a friend but more an acquaintance in desperate need of help.

As the day progressed, I noticed the rest of my classes were shared with one or more of Allison's friends. They all tried to strike up a conversation but were quickly discouraged when met with my one-worded or vague answers. Especially, Stiles. He tried especially hard to get answers out of me, only being met with the occasional laugh or stare at his comical occurrences. He seemed like the kind of person you could just open up to. The same could be said about Scott. His shy nature was alluring, and he portrayed himself as a very trustworthy and loyal being.

But I would not allow myself to let them in. My whole being yearned for a real friendship, someone to share nothing and everything; never again.

At lunch, I sat outside and ate my food quietly, a book in front of my face to shield my eyes from the sun the prevalent stares of my peers. After some minutes of appreciated loneliness, the empty table was filled with conversating teenage bodies. I smiled politely but, in my mind, I was cursing them out.

"So, (Y/N), how's your day been?" Allison asked whilst munching on an apple. I swallowed what was left of my bite and answered.

"Fine, thank you." This time no one pressed on after my short answers, finally getting the hint of my disinterest. In the corner of my eye, I saw Isaac sitting under a tree munching on half a sandwich. I excused myself and went to join him, heavily enjoying his tranquil aura.

"Oh, hi, (Y/N)." He smiled sheepishly.

"Hey, Isaac. Is that all you're eating?"

"Yeah. I'm not very hungry." He looked down as if he were ashamed.

"Nonsense! Here," I gave him the other half of my burger and another bag of chips I had in my bag. "You can't tell me you're not hungry. You're a boy in peak development."

"Thanks." He smiled as he continued munching on his food. I put on some music and we continued eating in silence. No conversation required.

The day went on smoother than it started. Classes flew by fairly quickly and the incessant chit-chat seemed to diminish. During last period I was like every other student, anxiously waiting for the bell to signal the end of the school day. When my pleads were answered, I packed the necessary book into my bag and left the rest in my locker, expertly avoiding any more social encounters. Quickly, I made my way to the waiting open car door of my father's car, ignoring Allison's beckoning me t.wards the small group of friends.

"How was your first day, darling?" My father spoke up breaking my attention from the scenery.

"Like any other first day I've had." I smiled. "The towns might change but school is always the same."

Finally at home, we were greeted with the sight of my mother cooking; people were coming over.

"(Y/N), honey, Chris, Victoria, and Allison are coming over tonight. So, go do a quick workout and come back to get ready." I nodded and ran to my room to change into workout clothes.

My routine would normally consist of waking up, working out, go to school for a dreading eight hours, come back home, workout again, do my homework, eat, and go to sleep. I lead a very monotonous life and it had been this way since I could remember. One of my earliest memories was of my father teaching me archery alongside Allison, a great distraction to our always disrupted home life. As I got older, my father started training me in boxing and knife maneuvering. How would these skills help me in life were still a mystery but I felt safe knowing them.

I got changed and decided to take Brody out with me on a quick jog through the woods. "Hey, boy, ready to go?"

He jumped on me which I took as a yes and started for the woods. We ran down the same trail I had been going on for the past three weeks. Mostly, I went down this track in hopes that Derek would make an appearance, and today was not the exception. As the ruins of his house came to view so did his tall figure.

"Trespassing again?"

"It doesn't count if I know the owner." During our greeting, Brody's leash slipped out of my hand and he ran to jump on Derek, leaving slobbering licks on his cheek. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't worry about it." He chuckled and helped me bring him down.

"I guess he likes you, even though he doesn't like anyone but me. Guess you're special."

"Maybe." He grinned.

Out of nowhere, I hit him in the shoulder. "What was that for?!"

"For trying to run me over with your shopping cart two days ago. It was uncalled for."

"No, it was revenge. You hit ME first. In the ankle."

"You're still on with that. Come on, sour wolf. That happened three weeks ago, and it was an accident."

"Whatever. Come on, I'll give you a ride home. It's getting kind of dark." This had also become part of my routine. After "bumping" into Derek he would offer to drop me off at my house, claiming it was for security.

"Okay, we're here. By the way, the offer to show you around town is still up. Just call me whenever." He said as he stopped the car in front of my house.

"Alright, will do, and thanks for the ride, Derek. I'd invite you in, but my family is coming over."

"No worries, maybe another time."

"It's a date. Anyways, thanks again. See you when I see you."

"Okay, goodnight."

"Night." He waited until I entered the house and drove away.

"Munchkin, is that you?" My father screamed from the kitchen.

"Yeah!" I screamed back.

"Okay, well, go take a shower and get ready your uncle will get here soon."

I hurried up the stairs and hopped in the shower letting the hot water stream down my body calming any aching muscle that was palpitating. In my room, I searched through my closet for an acceptable family dinner outfit, deciding a grey sweater and black jeans would be enough. I braided my hair out of my face and went downstairs to help my mother set the table.

After we put the last plate the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it!" I ran to the door and was greeted by my uncle. "Uncle Chris!" I jumped and he hugged me. There was no doubt that he was my favorite family member, his presence was always welcoming. His wife on the other hand was as cold as the winters we spent in New York. She was nice but absolutely scary. "Hi, Aunt Victoria."

"Hello, (Y/N)." I hugged her and said hi to Allison.

"Come in, guys." They walked in and I closed the door behind them.

"So, (Y/N), how have you been?" Uncle Chris asked while stuffing his mouth with mom's famous lasagna.

"I've been good. I mean, moving all the time takes a toll on you at first, but I got used to it. It's easy now to pack it all up once the school year ends."

"Oh, honey, that must be so hard on you," Victoria said. I could not read her tone, her words spoke in sympathetic notes with an underlying melody of sarcasm.  Not knowing what to answer, I bit my lip and nodded.

The whole evening was spent on us catching up and eating, laughing, playing games, but the good times came to an end when the clock hit 9:00 pm. It was stupid to set a curfew, but my mom usually had everyone in bed at this time, 10:30 as of late.

"You better come around the house more often." Uncle Chris demanded and hugged me.

"Yes, sir." I raised my hand to my eyebrow and saluted, as did he.

"Let's go, Chris. And thank you for the lovely dinner, Rebecca," Victoria said linking arms with my uncle and smiling at mom.

"No problem. Come by any time." They talked for a bit more and after they left, I went upstairs to change for bed.

"Momma, I'm gonna go to sleep."

"Okay, honey. Goodnight." I went upstairs, brushed my teeth, and put my hair in a ponytail.

Before bed, I made sure everything I would need for the next day was packed into my bag and made sure my alarm was set. I pulled all the throw pillows from my bed and set them aside, then making my way to the window to draw the curtains. Something caught my attention in the backyard, though. My eyes squinted trying to make out the figure in front of me. Blinking the confusion away, I made a double-take and looked back at an empty yard. I laughed to myself as I crept into bed. Why would Derek be in my backyard?

Next ->

[yandere-sins]

Remember that Beast!Reader fic with the yandere prince? I loved that one! Can I please request ‘Tears’ from your prompt list for this please?

I was thinking that maybe a few years pass by while the reader is still stuck in beast form, but during that time the person appointed as an alternative caretaker for the reader (obviously the prince can’t be around ALL the time if he has to maintain his kingdom and keep up his image) slowly starts forming a friendly relationship and with even something as small as a forehead kiss to the beast, it is enough to break the curse. But the two don’t get enough time to celebrate before the prince barges in👀

I’m uncomfortable with nsfw and anything too sexual but I enjoy the creepiness and horror that follows a yandere character so I hope you can write it like that please😭🥺 Oh! And please let there be some hope that the reader will either be saved or she saves herself. Even better if the reader decides that she wants to save herself and the boy who broke her curse🤩

Thank you! So sorry if I’m requesting a lot😭🙏

Oh, my sweet little anons, when was the last time I gave you a happy end, huh? But thanks for requesting a continuation, I am glad you all enjoyed it so much ^-^ What a good idea you had there!

Tears - “Sweetie, don’t cry.. they didn’t love you as much as I did.. I’ll help you over the heart break.” 

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

Panting, you urged your legs forward, always one step further than you made at a time. The chilly night air burnt in your lungs, and your bare feet were icy and wet from the forest ground, but neither you nor the person holding your hand so gently in his thought about stopping. Only wrapped in a big rag, you should have been cold, but when he squeezed your hand encouragingly, you believed you could manage it all.

It hadn’t been too long since you started your way on foot down the hill the old castle sat upon. Sooner or later, the prince would find out you escaped, and surely, they would also notice your Beloved having fled the scene. There had been no reason for him to stay. Losing you was enough to get sentenced to death, his lifeless body thrown into a bog rather than buried. So why wouldn’t he leave with you? There certainly was no reason for him to stay in the wretched service of the king. 

But sooner or later, they would come for you, that much was sure.

So, you two had to hurry, but even so, you couldn’t keep from smiling, especially when he looked back over his shoulder, his warm, green eyes shining without any regrets. You two had known each other far too little, but he never once hesitated to show you his affection for you, even when you still were the hideous atrocity that you had turned into to escape the prince for the first time.

Perhaps, everything that happened was fate. Even if it had been harsh and awful, it happened so that you two could meet and start a better life together somewhere new. Even if you wished now that you two could have met under different circumstances, now, you didn’t regret your life from before anymore. Now, you could simply look ahead to the future that waited for you.

Or so you thought; you should have known better.

The soaring of arrows pierced through the silence of the night. One hit the bark of the tree before you, fire spreading from its alcohol-soaked peak. Your eye widened, as did you’re companions, and you soon found yourself ducking as another one flew over your heads.

You couldn’t spare a second to look back over your shoulder as you two urged onwards, picking up the pace. Your legs were tired and shaking, but you knew that you had to go faster and faster, or else you or he would get hit. It were moments like these in which you wished you were still a beast. One which could run faster than any arrow. One that could fight and protect what was important to you. But that was no longer, true love’s kiss having sealed that specific fate already.

It was too late when you realized that the arrows so far had not been to stop you two from getting away. Instead, as they began to light up tree after tree, you realized they were there to banish the secrecy of the forest and make the dark disappear. At the same time, they made you two run into the directions your followers wanted you to go. If you looked back now, you knew who you’d see, no robbers smart enough to roam the forest around the prince’s castle, so there really was no reason for any other armed party to hunt you down.

And yet, you did, too afraid that if you didn’t, things would go way worse. 

The moment you looked over your shoulder, another arrow flew past you, grazing your cheek. You knew where it would hit way before your companion cried out in pain, his hand letting go of yours as a reflex. He sank to his knee for a moment, cursing under his breath as you hurried to his side, seeing the arrow lodged in his shoulder. “Oh god,” you stammered as you sank next to him, hands hovering over the wound. “W-We can fix it, I’m sure, we just have to--!”

“There’s no time!” he interrupted you firmly as if he hadn’t just been shot with an arrow. Without wasting even another second, he got up again, grabbed you by the wrist, and moved forward. You caught a glimpse at his face, determination brimming from his features, but pearls of sweat collected at his forehead. He was clearly in pain, showing it in the way he held his own shoulder with his free hand, but he hadn’t given up yet. He would move on until you two were safe, and though you sympathized with his pain, you were so thankful he didn’t give up yet.

You two ran as fast as you could, but soon you couldn’t ignore the sound of armor behind you anymore, hooves trotting closer while torches lit up the forest more and more. It was almost spooky that no words were muttered, and you expected someone to call orders every now and then, but you had seen the clothes of your followers briefly; you knew who they were. The prince’s guards, clad in the finest silver and trained to the point of being nothing more than human dogs. They ceased speaking if not absolutely necessary, their eyes were soulless, and their hearts without a hint of benevolence. Them being after you could only mean one thing.

The prince wanted you back.

Another arrow getting stuck in the tree you just passed. You knew everything they did wasn’t fun but coldly calculated tactics. They wouldn’t hurt you. They couldn’t. Your cheek bleeding would probably cause one of them to get degraded to a chair for three months at least, so they really couldn’t afford to hurt you more seriously. But they did know who they could hurt you with. Someone whose pain would hurt you more than your own.

The next arrow missed completely, lost in the leaves on the ground. You two were running out of all the adrenaline you had, slowly and surely having exhaustion catch up to you. No! Please no! You begged the entities above that this wouldn’t be the end! There was so much more to live for, so much to see and experience! You wanted to be with your former caretaker, the only one who ever took you and your feelings seriously enough. You two could build a house and keep far away from the hustle and bustle of the cities, farming and taking care of livestock until the end of time. So please! Don’t let this be the end of it!

However, against your expectations, the one to collapse first was him. This time, the arrows didn’t miss, one hitting him in the lower back, one scarily close to his spine. Teardrops pearled from your cheeks as you fell into to mud with him, your hands scrapping along the roots and stones of the ground as you crawled back to where he laid, softly whimpering. Reaching for an arrow, you wanted to pull it out in desperation, but he began to cry out in pain before you could even start pulling.

“LEAVE!” he screamed. “LEAVE AND RUN!”

You couldn’t hold back the sobs hearing these words. “Please...” his hand reached for yours as he tried his best to look up to you. “Go, find a safe place to hide! Leave for another country and never come back!”

“No...” you sobbed, bringing one hand covered in mud and blood to your face. “I don’t want to leave you...”

“They are after you, not me,” he tried to reassure you, but you knew better. The sounds of their heavy footsteps drew closer and closer, and finding him, they wouldn’t hesitate to kill this ‘traitor’. If you went, then he’d die. But if you stayed and got caught, he’d die as well. No choice you could make would end happily for the both of you. “Please, go. I want you to-- ARGH!” Interrupted by his own scream, you began to panic, calling his name and shaking his arm, only to look up as a shadow was cast over you.

“[Name],” the prince sighed, relief showing in his face. He had this small, exhausted smile on his lips, happiness in his features as he looked at you. However, the moment he looked down at your companion, his face began to contort into a hateful grimace, his leg lifting once more to give your Beloved’s back a not-so-gentle kick. “No! Stop!” you cried, latching onto his leg as the kicks came down, your partner’s screams echoing through the forest.

“Don’t worry, I will get rid of the scoundrel who kidnapped you. I will save you! Just like I always do!”

“No! You’re hurting him! Stop it! Please... Please stop!”

Never had you imagined that you’d ever find yourself so low again that you’d beg the prince for something. Before, it had been for your life, but now, it was for the life of the only person that really mattered to you. “Oh, Sweetheart,” the prince cooed, his fingers finding their way under your chin, pulling your face up to meet his eyes. “Don’t cry... he didn’t love you as much as I do. I’ll help you over the heartbreak once we’re done here.”

The prince let go roughly as he pulled his sword from his sheath as you fell to the ground next to your partner. For a moment, time seemed to stop as you stood up in a matter of seconds. Panicked, you decided to throw yourself in front of the sword instead, but a hand grabbed yours before you could. Looking down at your Beloved, smiling warmly and encouraging as he muttered the final words you’d hear from him.

“Go.”

It was like he set you free, even if your definition of free originally included him. “Eh, Darling?!” you heard as you took off in a second spurt of adrenaline, the prince screaming your name after you. But your mind completely shut off the moment you passed the last lit-up arrow, sinking back into the darkness. Everything was blurry, your vision stained with your tears that wouldn’t go away no matter how much you rubbed your eyes with your dirty hands.

Your feet must have started bleeding as you kept running faster and faster, but you gave them no mind, not even feeling the pain. All you felt was the wound in your throbbing heart, something that the prince couldn’t heal no matter how much he believed he could. You wanted to understand your former caretaker’s action, telling you to go rather than defend him. If you had been in his place, surely, you had done the same. But it was as if you were the one who got betrayed by yourself by running away. By giving up on something hopeless, you felt like you were betraying everything you had ever stand for. How pathetic you were, running, trying to get the better future you had hoped to build with him.

Next thing you knew, you stumbled as the ground gave away to a slope before you, your body tumbling down the wet leaves and sturdy roots, your skim getting scratched by the branches of bushes all around you. It was pure luck that your fingers closed around one big tree root the moment they did; otherwise, you surely would have fallen from the cliff that opened up beneath you, instead of just hanging on to it now.

Only now your ears regained their function, the rushing of waves sounding far too deep and far too rough beneath you as to simply be a river. Had you run all the way to the shore? Was it the big sea beneath you? Either it had been closer than you thought, or you did develop some superhuman abilities after changing into a beast.

Groaning, you tried to pull yourself back over the edge, the slightly forward-leaning stone not being any help in rescuing yourself. Even more so, you had to realize the light of torches drawing closer and closer by the second, while you still struggled to escape the death by falling into the unruly water from a great height.

“[Name]!” you heard the screech of your name, genuine worry resounding from it. The prince’s face was the last thing you wanted to see, especially as he looked so damn horrified at the sight of you barely holding on to the cliff. “Don’t move! I’ll pull you up!” he called as he slit down the slope as best as he could without falling himself until he reached you. It was strange. You should have been happy that you wouldn’t be dying. That someone would save you from this horrific fate.

But all you felt was pure despair.

If he pulled you up, then that would be it. He’d take you back, lock you up again and do as he pleased with you. Who knew if you’d ever get a chance on escaping again, especially if he made an example out of your previous companion about what would happen if anyone ever helped you. You’d have nothing left but to live your life as a mere plaything, captured by the prince that was so beloved by everyone, and you didn’t want to think about all the things he’d do to you now that you were human again.

His hands reached out, and you noticed them faintly in your vision. Your decision fell only seconds before he could grab you by the arms. It was too dark to see, too dark to even speculate how deep it was, but you decided it was better than becoming an empty shell of a person if you stayed with the prince.

No matter what would await you in the depths down below, it couldn’t be worse than being a subject to his twisted, self-righteous love, you decide. Letting go was easier than you thought, making you realize your body must understand this situation very well even if it might cost it its life. The face of the prince as you slipped from his grasp was a priceless last sight to see before you closed your eyes, awaiting the inevitable.

Until your back hit the water, engulfing you wholly like the hungry, desperate maw of an animal. Deeper and deeper until it was everywhere, and only then you opened your eyes again for one last glimpse of the blurred light above.

[yesokaythatsfine69]

Pretty Boys (Levi Ackerman X Eren Yaegar x Jean Kirstein x Reader)

Description: Why want one when you could have them all? The boys fight over you, so in your frustration you give them an ultimatum, one they really can't refuse.

Character(s): y/n, Eren, Jean, Levi, Mikasa, Armin, Hanje

POV: 2nd person

Warning(s): fluff, angst, cursing, you're a sexy queen

A/n: hello! New year's is coming up so as a new year's gift I give you this. I couldn't decide if I wanted to do smut for this or if I wanted to do a sequel of some sort but I think unless it's requested this'll do. This will be my last work for Attack on Titan. Again, feel free to request anything abt it though.

Word count:

Song: nowhere to run by stegosaurus rex

*none of the gifs used are mine, full credit goes to the maker.

You tugged your hair back, fingers nimbly working to tie the strands of your hair back into a proper pony tail. Sweat dripped from your neck, the summer weather taking a toll on your body and your work. You fanned yourself, huffing out a sigh.

"Taking a break?" You turned, coming face to face with Jean. He had the reigns of his horse in his right hand, leading the animal to where you stood, by the training area. He smiled, seemingly unfazed by the sweltering heat.

"I should ask you the same thing. Where have you been?" You crossed your arms, getting yourself prepared for whatever lackluster answer Jean was about to provide. Jean simply handed you the reigns, gently taking your hand and pressing the reigns into your palms.

"I've been taking care of the horses, believe it or not they like to bathe too." You huffed at his answer, but looked up at him and raised the reigns questionably. "What is this?" The brown eyed boy smiled again, crossing his arms. He leaned against the animal causally, his eyes gleaming mischievously. "This is Ren. She's new and needs a rider. So, I was thinking..."

You broke out into a wide smile. During the last mission, a particularly brutal one, you'd lost your horse. You loved that animal- he'd gotten you out of serious trouble in the past. Always faithful until the end...that had nearly torn you apart, as nothing was more villainess to you than to kill an innocent animal.

Before you could stop yourself you practically tackled the blonde, pulling him into a tight hug.

You and Jean had been close since the battle for trost, the two of you working side by side after being assigned the same squad. After giving pleasantries neither of you seemed focused on maintaining a friendship beyond just surviving- that was until you'd lost him.

Jean had gone missing in the chaos, you searching roof tops and buildings until finally you found his figure, hunched over.

You remember how badly he shook, tears streaming from his brown eyes. "Jean?" He hadn't spoken a word to you, but he hadn't needed to. You took his face in your hands and forced him to look at you.

You delivered a breathing technique that you'd taught yourself when you got nightmares after the wall fell. You waited until his breathing evened out and he seemed to be in a better headspace before you hugged him, gently.

Your kindness caught him off guard- especially for someone going the scouts- but he never forgot it.

Your grip tightened around him, practically squeezing the life out of him. "Oh Jean! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" You couldn't see it but his cheeks were as red as cherries and his eyes were as wide as saucers. "Uh, yeah. No- no problem."

"Oi, what the hell are you two doing?" The sound of your captains voice rang through the field and you gently let go of your comrade. "Jean got me a new horse!" You squealed at your stone faced commander, who's eyes were narrowed at a still blushing Jean.

"That's very kind of him. Especially since I wasn't aware he was able to give away our horses." Jean straightened, his eyes still wide. "Well, no not technically, I just- the horse needed- needed an owner and since...ya know, I figured." Levi just stared at him, an eyebrow raised. "Tch, you are an bumbling idiot, but as long as y/n's happy with it?" You nodded empathically.

"Uh, thank you, sir." Jean stuttered again, and Levi rolled his eyes. "Shut up." "Right, right. I better go...clean something." Jean cast one last glance in your direction before he left, leaving the horse in your care.

Levi watched him go as you turned to Ren, softly petting her snout.

Gently a hand reached out beside you, joining in in stroking the horse. "She is very lovely, I'll give him that." You smiled at Levi's words.

"Maybe someday I'll let you ride her." You laughed, turning suddenly. You hadn't realized though how close the two of you had gotten when he reached over your shoulder to pet Ren, and suddenly the two of you were mere inches from one another's faces.

Your eyes widened at the degree of closeness, until Levi's own gaze flickered to meet yours. You smiled at him and his lips upturned the slightest. You opened your mouth to speak but once more you were interrupted with the arrival of a cadet. "Captain Levi, sir! Commander Erwin requested your presence for a meeting about-"

Levi waved him off. "Tch, save it, I'm coming." Levi turned back to you but jumped a little when the cadet spoke again, obviously having figured he'd be leaving. "Captain Levi, I was told to escort you." Levi's expression was tense, but his voice remained eerily calm. "Do you want a gold star, brat? I said I was coming." Levi began his way to the cadet, who seemed much less sure of himself.

"Oh, captain Levi!" You yelled after him, waving your right arm in the air. The two paused both turning in your direction. "Don't forget I'll see you tonight to help you finish the paperwork over the last scouting mission." Levi nodded, his face less tense.

At their leave you also turned, bringing your new horse with you and heading to the stables.

--------------------------------------------------

Your clutched your tray, dodging around the people who stood and talked in the lunchroom. You searched for Eren, and found him, the boy waving his hand into the air to catch your attention in the crowded room. You smiled, making your way over and putting your tray down directly beside him.

Armin and Mikasa were already there, talking about something that happened on a recent mission. Eren grinned at you when you say down, his green eyes brightly shining in the lunchroom a light.

"How was training today, y/n?" Eren asked as he handed you his piece of bread. The two of you often shared food, and by now it had become second nature to do so.

You met when you were especially young, living only a few houses down from each other. You'd play, daydream, and defend Armin together. Although you were much more mild mannered- something Eren teased you about- you got along quite well. The two of you brought out an especially different side of one another.

But there was something the two of you shared deeply to your core and it was the need to protect. You'd both do whatever you could to protect those you cared about. It showed, but just in different ways. Armin often joked that you were the mother figure of the group and Eren the father.

You never noticed how bright Eren's cheeks turned.

"It went really well. Jean got me a new horse." You took a bite of bred, missing the way something dark passed over Eren's eyes.

Damn him.

Eren kept his smile as he leaned into you a bit, remaining his usual self. "Oh? Then you'll be back to riding with us soon." You shared his smile. "Yeah, as long as Levi approves. I'll be ready to kill some Titan's." Your enthusiasm caused Eren to blush, and he looked down at his watery soup. "Good, good."

He brought his spoon to his mouth, about to eat when Jean's voice thundered behind him. Immediately he straightened, but kept his body still for the main part. "Y/n, how are you liking Ren?"

Jean arrived behind you, tray in hand, and a sly smile on his face. Instantly you tapped the empty seat on the other side of you, wordlessly inviting him to sit down. He did so, and you turned away from Eren who noticably tensed.

"Yes! She's so lovely. I really can't thank you enough, Jean." As you spoke you placed your hand on his knee, Jean watching your movements intensely. His cheeks blushed as he met your kind eyes, an aw shucks expression on his blushing face. Meanwhile, Eren rolled his eyes on the other side of you, clearly finding this act overdone.

"Y/n," Eren caught your attention again, and you shifted from Jean back to your green eyes friend. "Since tomorrow's our day off, I was wondering if you'd like to practice some new techniques before you start going on missions again."

You opened your mouth to respond but before you could do so, Jean interjected. "You really think y/n would want to spend her day off training? Especially with a titan?" Eren answered him, but kept his eyes on you. "Spending the day training together is a great use of time, especially since she hasn't been in the field for a bit. Regardless of whether or not I'm a titan- the two of us still share the same goal-"

Jean laughed bitterly. "Oh can it, Titan boy. You just wanna spend the day alone with y/n." Now it was your turn to blush. "Uhh...guys."

Eren rolled his eyes. "Well at least I'm man enough to ask her to spend the day with me, unlike you, who'll just follow her around like a dog on a leash." Immediately the two stood up, bringing their faces inches apart. "Did you just call me a dog, Yaeger?" "You called me Titan boy."

You stood, turning to Mikasa and Armin who were watching with confusion as Jean and Eren engaged in a heated argument, in which neither were completely sure what it was about. "I'm gonna go, but if they calm down please tell them I'm open to spending my day off with both of them." "Sure thing, y/n." "Yeah, of course."

You side stepped the two boys and left the lunchroom, deciding that now was as good of a time as ever to go work with Levi to finish paperwork.

You left the lunchroom, making your way to Levi's office. You cast one last glance at Eren and Jean's figures. Biting your lip you hummed, and moved on, a dangerous new gleam in your eye.

--------------------------------------------------

"Why you little-" "Hey, where did y/n go?" The two boys pulled apart, casting wide glances around them. Eren found Mikasa. "She left a little bit ago, Ereh." Jean spun around. "You scared her off!" Eren glared at the blonde. "I scared her off? You're the one who-" Mikasa continued, "She did say that she wanted the spend her day off with both you, though."

Jean frowned and Eren's brow furrowed. The two shared a new type of look- one of confusion. Then they separated, still carrying the same tense jealousy as before but now it was dulled by confusion and a strange satisfaction. "Fine by me." "Sure, whatever."

--------------------------------------------------

You stopped in front of Levi's office door. Calmly, you knocked and waited for the captain to call out to you.

"tch, come in brat."

You opened the door, smiling gently at Levi's tired expression. He had stacks in front of him and it reminded you fo the first time you started helping him finish paperwork.

One night you were sent by Hanje to deliver some files to the scout leader, and you had knocked several times, none gave you an answer. Your curiosity had gotten the better of you and you let yourself in.

Levi was asleep over his desk, hair covering his face. He had to have been out cold, and it had absolutely surprised you, since you knew Levi barely ever slept let alone in the middle of doing something important. But there he was, dead asleep in front of you.

You first smiled, noticing how pretty he looked when he wasn't stressed or tense. Peaceful had been a good look on him.

You wouldn't dare wake him up as any other "brat" would've, instead your slipped some papers out from under him and began working.

You were driven by efficiency, and often if you wanted something done you wanted it done now, so it was easy to get through the paperwork- each answer meticulous and to Levi's liking.

After he woke up several hours later to you working quietly beside him, the two of you enjoyed quiet nights of paperwork, working side by side and talking in between.

Today, Levi was awake, but looked exhausted as he sat at his desk. He was illuminated by a single candle, and two cups of tea placed side by side claimed the edge of the table.

Your captain nodded to them. "Don't worry, I made the tea this time. I'm never trusting Hanje with the pot ever again." You snorted, carefully picking up a cup and sitting in front of Levi. "It wasn't that bad."

"tch, it wasn't even black." You hummed, taking a sip. He handed you stack, making sure you had enough room to work. "you, know, there's this bakery in town I think you'll really like. They have the best bread. It'd go so well with your tea."

You spoke while you worked, filling in each blank efficiently. "In town?" You nodded. Levi didn't like going out often, the thought was quite unappealing, unless... "Tomorrow's a day off, isn't it?" You hummed.

"tch, take me there tomorrow then." You looked up. "I don't know if I'll be able to, I have plans with Jean and Eren." Levi resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "They'll be busy tomorrow." You frowned. "What? But tomorrow-" "They have stable duty all day tomorrow."

You stopped working and Levi looked up to meet your gaze. "What? What for?" Levi's face remained expressionless as he explained, giving you a long shpeal about them needing to learn to work together better and that the best way to do that was for them to spend that day cleaning.

Satisfied with himself Levi moved on, going back to work. You were still stunned. "Where in town is this bakery?" When you didn't reply he looked up, gently tapping your forehead. "Oi, pay attention, brat." You blinked away your confusion before rejoining in conversation with Levi.

Before long you two had switched to several different subjects and when you finally finished working the tea pot had become completely empty.

You stretched out your arms as Levi rubbed his eyes. "Well, that's all of it." Your breathed, crossing your arms over your chest. "tch," Levi laughed without humor. "For tonight." You smiled and lifted yourself up. "For tonight." You got to the door, before turning back to Levi.

"I'll see you tomorrow, then?" In the darkness of the room you could've sworn you saw Levi smile. "Tomorrow."

The door opened and closed softly and Levi waited until he could no longer hear the soft padding of your feet before he lifted himself up from his desk and carried his tired body to his room.

--------------------------------------------------

Eren was practically stomping when he left his room. Another cadet had delivered the news of his punishment, and each step Eren took seemed angrier than the last.

Eren loved you- loved you since you two had met outside of your home, just a few doors down from his own. You seemed less edgy than he- less angry and more gentle. It shocked him, but it also lured him into your caress.

For a long time you were his best secret, and it was definitely selfish of him- but...the thought of losing you caused his fists to clench.

Losing you to titans was one thing- and losing you to Jean Kirstein was a completely different thing. Improbable, impossible, and definitely not happening.

Eren entered the stable and saw that he had beat Jean there. He grabbed a broom and immediately began sweeping, hoping to burn off some steam before the arrival of Jean and Levi.

Jean was slow in every single movement. It was his day off, goddamnit and instead of spending it with you, he was spending it with Eren. He scoffed in disgust. Captain Levi's plan to somehow teach them team work was definitely going to give someone a black eye- and Jean just knew it was going to be him.

He just wanted to spend some time with you- and maybe Eren was right- he did follow you around like a puppy, but that was because he really really really liked you. Okay he kind of loved you.

You've always been there for him, especially when Marco died. You've even met his mother before. Jean doesn't allow many people into his private life let alone share the parts of him he's buried deep under a shell of heat and anger.

But somehow you were able to worm your way in.

Jean sighed at the door of the stable. He opened it and directly in his eyeline stood Eren, who had already begun sweeping.

They stared at each other.

"Where's the mop at?"

Levi had been having a pretty fair day- which was saying a lot. He was going to met you at the front part of building but before then he'd figure he'd check up on the two brats he'd put on stable duty.

Sure, maybe the reason he sent them on stable duty was for more selfish reasons then helpful ones. But Eren and Jean's apprehension to one another annoyed the hell out of him, not to mention he enjoyed causing a little innocent chaos where his cadets were concerned.

At the root though was you. Those brats saw you day and night, 24/7. He had noticed they way they looked at you, the way Eren refused to be with any other squad or person unless you were there, the way Jean seemed to follow you around.

That also annoyed the hell out of him. Of course boys in love was something he'd seen many times before.

However he'd never experienced it himself- that was until you came.

He quickly understood that it was your nature to be caring, gentle, and protective. That wasn't what caught his attention, actually.

What caught his attention was the way you worked- your focus, attention, drive. It was all surpremely attractive to him. He'd seen gentle and caring people die too often. Their nature being the reason for it.

But you held yourself differently. You had something more calculated driving you, and you weren't just another person Levi had to worry about.

That combination of skill and personality made Levi comfortable and much less tense.

He walked into the stable, seeing the two men begrudgingly work to clean the floor.

"Oi, brats, you missed a spot."

At the sound of his voice they turned, jumping to salute him.

"I'll be back around five, so that should be enough time for this shithole to be spotless."

"Yes, sir."

"No problem, Captain Levi."

He turned.

"Wait, captain!" Eren's voice caused him to turn back around albeit a bit threateningly. "What, brat?"

"Where are you going?" Eren was well aware that Levi rarely left- if ever during a day off so the Captain's sudden departure worried him- was there a titan problem he should know about?

Levi smiled to the shock of his cadets.

"Oh, I'm going on a date."

He turned.

"With y/n."

He left, the door swinging close behind him.

Jean and Eren watched him go, frozen in place at his words.

"You've got to be kidding me."

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A/n: thanks for reading! Remember requests are open and criticism is always welcome.

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[little-diable]

Potter - Draco Malfoy (angst/smut)

Request by anon: Hello. I love your imagines! Can I request a Draco smut? The reader and him are in a secret romance due to her being Harry's sister. She is Harry's stolen object in the second task, but she doesn't know how to swim. Draco saves her and has soft smut in the Prefect bathroom with multiple "I love you"s.

Hope this is what you had in mind. Enjoy my loves. xxx

“Sh, don’t want anybody to hear us, do we?” His lips nibbled on her neck, hands massaging her skin, leaving a few hidden marks, something he’ll be able to admire later on. His scent filled her nostrils, the faint green apple aroma made a homey feeling overcome her, trying to pull her love even closer. 

“My gorgeous love,“ Draco breathed out, smiling at her, those bright eyes twinkling in the darkness of the storage room, he loved to feel her close, pressed against his chest, shuttered breaths leaving her swollen lips, begging for more. 

“We need to leave,“ (y/n) mumbled, she couldn’t miss her brothers first task, still shaken up from the way he had whispered “dragons” just last night. Her first instinct had been to tell him to quit, she couldn’t endure watching him struggle against something that deadly, but soon enough the (y/h/c) haired Potter girl realized, she couldn’t do anything, besides cheering for her brother, supporting him no matter what. 

“Fucking Potter,“ Draco muttered under his breath, groaning as his girlfriend slapped her hand against his abdomen.

„Don‘t Draco, he’s my bother,“ (y/n) reminded him once again, as if he wasn’t struggling with the sober truth every single day.

Draco and (y/n) had crossed paths years ago, eyes gazing at each other as the hat sorted them into their houses. A Malfoy would naturally be placed into Slytherin, just like (y/n) followed her brother into Gryffindor. Draco could still feel the uneasy feeling rising in his stomach as the hat called “Gryffindor”, he had deeply wished for her to follow him into Slytherin. 

It had taken (y/n) and Draco a few years to finally find each other, coming clean with their emotions, hiding their relationship from curious eyes, especially the ones of Dracos so called enemy, Harry Potter, (y/n)s brother. 

“He’ll be fine, don’t worry.“Draco kissed her forehead, running a hand through his bright blonde hair, trying to lace his voice with any sympathy, struggling to do so. “I’ll find you later on,“ and off he went, blending in with the rest of the students, cheering for anybody who didn’t carry the name Potter. 

His bright eyes would unintentionally find her (y/e/c) ones from time to time, checking to see, if she was alright, his heart was clenching at the sight, she was trembling, hands interlaced with Hermoines. Draco wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around her, his mind was coming up with all the supportive things he’d whisper into her ear. 

He caught himself admiring her features more than once, proud that he was the one, that got to call her his girlfriend, he’d do anything to show her off to all those students, if his bloodline and her brother wouldn’t stand in their way. 

Even Draco felt scared, just for a second though, but his emotions were pure, watching Harry disappear, chased by the dragon, praying that he’d make it. Harry couldn’t leave (y/n) behind, he was the only true family member she had left, not as if she’d ever call her uncle and her aunt her family. 

“God, Harry,“ she fell into her brothers arms, a relieved sob left her lips, (y/n) inhaled his scent, the all too familiar calming sensation overcame her, made her sink into her brothers embrace even further. “I’m alright, don’t worry,“ he kissed her hairline, hands tightly squeezing her before he let go of her, ready to celebrate his victory. 

Harry and Draco would cross paths once that evening, Harrys eyebrows would furrow together as he caught the blonde Slytherin staring at his sister, the almost lovingly seeming smile he shot her made Harry frown. 

“(Y/n), love, look at me,“ Draco had her pressed against the cold wall, hands wrapped around her trembling frame. „He won’t leave you, Harry will survive this tournament.“

An exhausted expression grazed Dracos features, both, (y/n) and Draco hadn’t caught much sleep these past few days, she’d seek him out whenever another nightmare would haunt her, not able to keep on sleeping without him near. 

“Sorry,“ (y/n) hiccuped, fingers grasping the fabric of his sweater, too scared to let go of him. She admired him, truly did, thankful for muttering those sweet words to her, obviously trying to swallow down his hatred for her brother. “Don’t be,“ he kissed her forehead, dipping his head down to pull her into him. 

“I love you,“ she mumbled against his lips, kissing him one last time before she disappeared into the darkness, creeping down the hallways, finding her way back to her dorm, praying for at least a few hours of sleep. 

But as (y/n) had been woken up from her sleep early in the morning, she cursed herself for ever leaving the comfortableness of her bed, desperate to find her love, not able to calm the raging storm inside her mind herself. Hermoine and Ron had dragged her to where they’d meet with Dumbledore, getting initiated into the next task. 

An uneasy feeling settled inside her bones, (y/n) had never liked the water, never felt calm in the crashing waves of the ocean, so she refused to learn how to swim, she wouldn’t need to swim anyways, well, how wrong she had been. 

Neither the teachers nor Ron and Hermoine spared her protests any mind, trying to bribe her into it, telling her how much she’d help her brother with it, since everybody knew, that (y/n) would give her all for Harry, even her last breath. 

“No, absolutely not,“Draco muttered, arms crossed in front of his chest, staring down on his girlfriend. „I don’t have any other choice,“ she sounded just as unconvinced, her mind was racing, anxiety nestled in her, god, she prayed that Harry would be able to rescue her. 

“I’ll only give him a few minutes, otherwise I’ll step in,“ Draco left without kissing her goodbye, too enraged to even think straight, not noticing her sad eyes on him, aching for his touch. “I love you,“ she whispered into the hallway, eyes set on the spot where Draco had just been standing on a few moments ago. 

With trembling legs she stood in front of the old wizard, hopeful eyes were gazing at her. “It will be alright Miss Potter, don’t worry,“ he winked at her. She shot her friends one last glance before she got put into her trance, disappearing down the lake, darkness engulfed her, lulled her in. 

Dracos hard eyes were focused on the lake, he kept on tapping his foot, counting the minutes, cold sweat was breaking out on his back, he felt scared, truly scared, for the first time in his life. “What’s going on with you Malfoy?” Goyle chuckled, teasing his distressed friend. 

The prince of Slytherin pushed him out of the way as Harry broke through the lakes surface, (y/n) nowhere to be seen. “Where is she?” Draco spat, eyes finding Harrys shivering frame. „I don’t know,“ Harry stuttered, he hadn’t noticed the way she had struggled underwater, hadn’t noticed her letting go of his hand. Only now he seemed to realize, that his sister was actually not by his side. 

Blood was rushing in Dracos ears, too many thoughts and emotions crashed upon him, his limbs began to tremble, scared of losing his one true love. Curious eyes watched him pull off his coat and shoes, drowning out the cheering for the other contestants.

“Fucking Potter,“ Draco spat, diving headfirst into the black waters, he’d rescue her, no matter what. His heart was pounding against his ribcage, Draco tried to calm himself down, knowing that it would take him a while to find his girlfriend. Glad for all those hours his parents made him take swimming lessons, diving for hours on end, looking for random objects underwater. 

His bright eyes found her unresponsive figure on the lakes ground, tears were welling up in his eyes, blurring his already limited vision. Draco wrapped his arms around her frame, with his last breath he pulled themselves up the water, gasping as he broke through the lakes surface. “Don’t touch her,“ he growled at Harry, placing (y/n) down on the wooden stand, desperately trying catch her (y/e/c) eyes staring at him. 

Draco shook her a few times, cradling her cold frame in his arms, a relived sigh made it past his lips as she began to cough up the water in her lungs. “Finally,” he breathed into her ear, wrapping his coat around her shivering limbs. He didn’t let Harry near him, silencing him with a simple “not now Potter” every time he tried to apologize to his sister. 

“Come on, let’s take a bath my love,“ Draco was still carrying her, glad to finally be back at the castle, walking up to the perfect’s bathroom, knowing that they’d find some peace up there. “Let me help you,“ he slowly unbuttoned her blouse, eyes focused on hers, drops of water were dripping down from her tips, her lips were slightly blue, (y/n) wouldn’t let go of his hands. 

Draco had to bite down the “I told you so”, that was about to spill from his lips, but her dilated pupils were enough to shut him up, enough to pull her against his chest, kissing her forehead over and over again. 

She was placed on his lap, front pushed against his, hands tangled in his hair, the warm water engulfed them, calmed their shivering limbs. “I’m sorry for scaring you like that,“ (y/m) mumbled against his neck, her heart felt heavy, she didn’t care about almost drowning, didn’t care that Harry forgot about her, only cared about the way Draco felt, the anxious feelings, that ran through his veins. 

“Don’t apologize, it’s not your fault my love,“ Draco grasped her neck, pulled her in for a kiss. „I’ve never been that scared. It made me realize, that I can’t be myself without you by my side, you’re my everything and I truly love you.” Draco confessed, chuckling at the smile, that tugged on her lips. 

“I love you too,“ she whispered, pushing her lips against his, dipping her tongue into his mouth, deepening the sensual gesture. Both were in their own little bubble of calmness, relishing in being that close to one another, set on making them feel as loved and appreciated as possible. 

Dracos hands found her wetness, he growled into her mouth, fingers dipping into her heat, spreading her open. “So pretty,“ (y/n) gasped at his praising, nails clawing into his shoulders. „Make love to me Draco,“ she moaned, desperate to wrap her walls around him. 

She sunk down on his hard length, he filled her in every right way, deliciously stretching her. “Draco,“ (y/n) cried out his name, his hands placed on her behind, stabilizing her movement. (Y/n) kept on gridding her core against his length, slowly bouncing on his member, engulfed by the hot water. 

Their pent up anxiety, frustration and love began to spill out of them, pushing them closer to the edge faster than ever. “I love you,“ both moaned at the same time, chuckling as their lips found one another. 

Draco thrusted his hips upwards, meeting her wetness, burying himself even deeper, stretching her even further, making her fall right into the crashing wave of her orgasm. “Fuck so good,“ Draco moaned, releasing himself into her heat, forehead pressed against hers, hands not letting go of her skin.

“I love you,“ Draco repeated, (y/n) ran her hands through his hair. „I love you too Draco Malfoy.“

[iridiscent-aesthetics]

I just saw your headcanon of az being jealous of gwyn and eris, may I suggest the opposite? gwyn being jealous of az and eris talking.

Oh I LOVE this one! Might be a tad bit tricky but I'm soo very up for it! Thank you @aelingalathyniusrailme for SUCH a great idea!

Gwyn would've found this entertaining. IF it wasn't Azriel there. She was aware of their hatred. Aware that they were literally always at each others throats. But she couldn't help but fume with jealousy while watching them in the training ring take on each other. Blow to blow, matching at each stride. She was watching Eris and Az spar. It began with a heated argument leading to the Autumn court heir challenging the Shadowsinger to spar. And now here they were, since a straight of 15 minutes, sparring. Neither nowhere close to yielding. Gwyn was cursing the redheaded male with all she had for choosing sparring instead of dueling. The absence of the weapons as a bridge and the proximity of their sweaty bodies was too much, nor did it help that neither had a shirt on. The angst, the tension built between them; it seemed straight out of one of her smutty romance books. Gwyn wasn't liking this one bit. "Come on guys, We get it! You're strong and bold. You're Fearless males! There. fed your bloated male egos. Now stop. would you?!" She yelled, throwing her hands in the air frustrated. "Let them be Gwyn, this is far more entertaining than having to listen them arguing to the point of biting each others heads off." Cassian stood besides her crossing his arms and watching them with a hint of curiosity as to who would win. Gwyn bet her money on Az because she would have it no other way, but as much as she hated to admit, Eris was just as good. "Yeah Gwyn. Besides, two of the hottest males fighting, now that's a sight to sore eyes. Enjoy the show!" Nesta chimed in elbowing her, eyeing Cass as he put his hand to his heart and feigned a dramatic expression of pain. Nesta rolled her eyes. "Oh I'll give you a good show Ness." He said scooping her in his arms and took to the sky. Newly mated idiots, couldn't stay away for a minute. Gwyn looked back to the ring and groaned "Well at least take a break!" "Okay!" Yelled Az before delivering a good blow right to Eris's jaw. "Break." There. That should teach the male a lesson for getting all cocky and getting Az worked up. "Going easy on me Shadowsinger?" Eris said rubbing his jaw. Mother! this male's audacity was insufferable! "Wouldn't want to ruin that pretty face of yours, your highness." Az smirked back. Gwyneth clenched her fist. Pretty face?! What in all of Prythian made Az think Eris was pretty! Did he find him attractive? Was he into males? Eris was beyond fine, he was VERY attractive. A strong jaw and sharp eyes with a strong intensity. The male was hot . quite literally. He would make a fit equal to Az. His lethal darkness and Eris's burning fire. She shook her head, No. She was over thinking, Az hated Eris; old bad blood. There was no way he'd fall for him. But she'd make sure of it. Az walked out of the training pit and straight to her, sweat dripping off him. Gwyn couldn't tear her eyes off him. "Enjoying the show Berdara?" Came a teasing Azriels' voice. "Mhmm." She didn't even want to deny it, let him know she was attracted to him. About time it got through that dense head of the Night Court's infamous Spymaster. "Hey Az..., what's your type?" She shot him the question looking everywhere but him. He shot his head to her. "What?" She finally met his gaze. "I'm asking you what kind of people you're attracted to Shadowsinger!" Gwyn was certain her face was as red as her hair now. He looked into her eyes for a hard moment before answering in a low voice. "Redheads. Stubborn ones with a fiery attitude at that. Bonus if they're competitive." He was still looking straight into her eyes, with a small smirk, tilting his head aside as if waiting for her expression, while his shadows were dancing around her in excitement. Gwyn's jaw almost dropped. Along with her heart as it fell to her shoe. She was right. Of course. Of course he was attracted to fucking Eris. Redhead, stubborn, fiery attitude AND competitive. Should've added fire d*ck to the list. "Right." She'd say nothing else. She looked away. "Gwyn?" Came his voice again. Her heart ached as she looked over

to Azriel's concerned face, trying to keep her sorrow reeled in within her. His shadows were frantically jumping around them. "Is everything alright, why'd you ask?" She gave him her best smile. "Yes of course." she waved it off. " just curious." He didn't seem convinced at the slightest but didn't push as he held up a water bottle and drank. Gwyn couldn't stop herself then, She was still his friend, He deserved to be happy, even if not with her. She'd help him pursue Eris. Even if the male would never deserve Az. "So I take it you're into males?" Az choked on the water he was drinking. "What?" He croaked out. Gwyn rose an eyebrow. "Males Shadowsinger, the ones that usually have a d*ck and insufferable egos but pea sized brains?" Azriel looked amused. "You forget that I'm a male too priestess." "Didn't." She muttered and leveled him with a bored stare. "Answer the question Spymaster." Az looked away, his gaze probably searching for Eris. "I've had male lovers in the past. But I've never felt a strong attraction, especially romantic attraction to them over five centuries. Pretty sure nothing's changed now." "Then Eris- how, He's an exception?" Azriel looked at her with a bewildered expression eyes widened. "Eris? What-why, what about him Gwyn?" Gwyn rolled her eyes, hands on her hips, looking down at him. "Quit the puppy eyes act Az. It fine admitting you're attracted to Eris, he's okayish. You'd look good together I guess. Enemies to Lovers arc, angsty slow burn romance,," she shrugged nonchalantly even though she was fuming inside. Az's shadows dropped. To say he was shocked was an understatement. Should he laugh, should he be hurt, or angry maybe? Eris? Of all people in Prythian, HIM? Gwyn though he was attracted to THAT male? "Gwyneth." He started in an emotionless tone face solemn, "What the actual fuck led you to THAT conclusion?" "Oh please. It was evident, for all that being Spymaster and stuff, you sure are obvious about your crushes. I mean for starts, you HATE him, or at least ACT like you do. That's always the first step to enemies to lovers. And then you guys are ALWAYS bantering! Score 2. And did you SEE that tension while you were sparring? AND Flirting with Eris? Its clear as day 'Mr. I show No Emotion'. And Redheads? Seriously Az, could you have even tried and been any more subtle? Az looked at her for a dead half a minute and then burst out laughing so hard that everyone in the training arena were now staring at them in pure shock to see the infamous Spymaster laughing his ass off. Az looked at her, trying to stop laughing, but one look at her angry face and he burst out in fits all over again. Gwyn kicked him good and hard in the knee. "Ouch!" He yelled, not stopped laughing as he held his knee. "Gwyn- I oh Cauldron. Wait." He heaved in and out. "Good shot Berdara." He said with a hint of pride, still chuckling. Gwyn kicked him again. "Nice try deflecting Spymaster." Az shook his head rapidly, still trying to catch his breath. He calmed down and looked at her. "Gwyneth Berdara. My darling. You thought I was attracted to Eris?" He started laughing again. Gwyn grew nervous, "You're not? But you said Redhead, Stubborn, Fiery attitude, Competitive. Eris is all that." "Well I'm not attracted to Eris. AT ALL. Please don't ever say or even think of that again. Please. For the sake of my sanity." Gwyn sighed in relief. "Sorry, I assumed Wrong." But then she tensed again. "But then, if not Eris, then..." She trailed off. If he wasn't attracted to Eris, then who else was it? Redheads? Lucien? Az stood up and held her arms. "Gwyn. Gwyn look at me." She looked up at him with weary eyes. "Can you think of a better Redhead? A stubborn, competitive, fierce one? She's fearless and strong." Gwyn scrunched her nose in thought. A she, was it Vassa? He flicked her nose. "She's a Valkyrie Gwyn." A Valkyrie? There weren't many new ones other than her, Emerie and Nesta, only about two or three. She looked around to see if there were any redheads in them. Az rubbed his hands on his face. "Mother's sake Gwyn,

its YOU." Her eyes shot to his in disbelief. He liked HER? "I- you, me?" She pointed a finger to herself. "You like me?" Azriel was furiously blushing red, he rubbed the back of his neck giving her a sided grin. "Yeah...that's what I'm saying..." Gwyn thought she was going to burst with all the emotions. "I-" Before she could say anything else Eris walked up to them. "Break over yet Shadowsinger?" He smirked. Gwyn growled, literally growled and stepped in front of Az. "Stay away from him Eris, find someone else to play fight. If I see you anywhere near him or talking to him, I swear to the mother, I will rip your throat out." Eris took a step back at her promised violence. "Hiding behind a female, Scared of losing Spymaster?" Gwyn took a step at him, she was certain she'd show Eris hell today. "Leave us alone Eris. I've scored my best win today." He said, looking at Gwyn fondly and putting a hand on her shoulder. Eris snorted and left muttering something to himself. "So..., are we going to talk about how adorable you are when you're jealous and angry? Especially over Eris?" Az teased her with a huge grin and happy eyes "I have no idea what you're talking about." Gwyn shrugged in charming irreverence. His gaze darkened as he looked into her ocean eyes, "You never finished what you were saying before asshole Eris butted in?" Gwyn gave him a soft smile before reaching up to his collar and pulling him down so she could kiss him. She pecked his lips once slightly before letting go and grinning at him while she walked away, leaving Az to process what happened and blush furiously like a teenager. He watched Gwyn walk away in victory. Mother, this female never failed to amaze him, And he was certain that this wouldn't be the last time. For the first time in five centuries, Az found hope. Found himself looking forward for the next day, and the rest of his life. Something sparked in his chest at the thought, A smile unconciously made way to his lips, like every time he thought of Gwyn; and this time, he didnt make to erase it. He'd let it for the world to see, the happiness Gwyneth Berdara brought to his life.

It's not about them talking exactly, but this seemed more fun to write😅

I tried! Not sure if it was good enough, but I've never really tried writing from Gwyn's POV.

Feedback, suggestions and other ideas always welcome!

[daddyjackfrost]

Iwazumi Hajime;

Prompt 60: “You’re so beautiful in the sun.”

warnings: none! fluff! oh, it is self indulgent tho (sorry not sorry), also reading? books? yeah

iwazumi x f!reader

a/n: hi! okay so i wrote this as a treat after the bokuto angst. i think we all deserve something sweet after that. (especially since there’s more coming) this is just pure fluff. enjoy!

Iwazumi watched you with eyes filled with love, his sole focus on you as you slowly walked down the isle, your finger running against the spines of the books.

Your neck was slightly bent to the left as you read the names of the authors. You walked in an awkward position slowly as you looked for the books you had saved up for.

Every time you walked a bit too fast, the pinky that was linked with Iwazumi’s tugged you back.

You loved book shopping with Iwazumi because even though the man wasn’t as passionate about books as you were, he was always interested in the books you were reading, and often found the books you wanted before you did.

You had no idea how, especially since he usually only came into the store with you, but you never asked him. Though the books that just happened to appear on your bookshelf were a big indicator as to why he knew where all the books were.

Iwazumi would never tell you that he actually did like books. Not because he was sure you would beat him up for hiding it, but because he didn’t want you to stop reading to him.

He loved it when you read to him.

“Aha! I found it, Haji!”

Iwazumi’s eyes softened as his eyes fell on your excited face. You were holding the book with gentle hands as you read the back. You both knew you already knew what The Goldfinch was about, but reading the back of the book was a habit you were not willing to break.

Iwazumi watched as a small smile formed on your lips as you finished reading the back, and then he watched as the smile turned into a frown.

Your eyes looked at the spot the book was hiding. Someone had put it in the wrong spot. No wonder you couldn’t find it.

“What’s wrong, love?” Iwazumi asked you.

He knew what was wrong. The book was not in the right spot. The Goldfinch was written by Donna Tartt, but it was in the V authors.

“Someone put it in the wrong place.” Under your breath, you mumbled, “How hard is it to put a book back where it belongs?”

Iwazumi just snorted as he pulled you towards the cashier by your pinky. You gripped the book with tight hands, already anticipating reading it.

You looked down at your linked pinkies and smiled. Iwazumi wasn’t the biggest on PDA, but he was clingy, and he needed to be touching you or close to you all the time.

You didn’t like holding hands for a long period of time since your hands usually began to sweat and get clammy, and Iwazumi loved holding your hand.

So you compromised.

Your pinky and Iwazumi’s pinky were always linked. And would be linked forever, Iwazumi firmly believed it. There was no one else for him. Only you.

The cashier smiled at you and Iwazumi. Her kind elderly eyes brightened as she saw your linked pinkies, but neither of you saw that.

“Hello, darlings. Just the one book?”

You smiled and slid the book on the counter. “Hi! Yes, just the one.”

The lady scanned the book and punched a few buttons before speaking again. “And how would you like to pay?”

Before you could answer, Iwazumi held up his debit card. “Debit, please.”

You frowned and reached for his card, but Iwazumi just moved it out of your reach, and then pulled your pinky as a warning.

“Haji, no,” you scolded. “You paid last time! Let me pay.” You looked down at your card to make sure it was the right one when you heard the small beep of the card payment being accepted.

You looked up and scowled at a triumphant Iwazumi and a smiling cashier. You huffed and rolled your eyes.

“So not fair,” you mumbled.

The cashier just laughed as she handed Iwazumi your bag. “You’ve got yourself a gentleman.”

Your eyes met the lady’s soft brown ones and you let out a small genuine smile that made Iwazumi’s heart flutter.

You squeezed Iwazumi’s pinky. “Yeah, I do.”

With a smile and a small wave, you walked out of the store, Iwazumi following close behind. Once you two began walking. you started to lightly swing your connected arms back and forth.

“Hajime, you can’t keep buying all my books, you’re gonna go broke.”

Iwazumi rolled his eyes. You two had already had this conversation one too many times. Why didn’t you understand that he wanted to buy all your books? He wanted to buy them because they made you happy. Because as much as you would deny it, he loved seeing the look of adoration in your eyes when he bought them.

“Yes I can, pretty girl. And no, I’m not.”

You just sighed and stuck your tongue out at him.

You two walked in comfortable silence. Today was a beautiful day. The sun was high in the sky, shining down. Soft white clouds decorated the blue sky and birds flew, putting on a show for all those watching.

As you admired the world around you, Iwazumi admired you.

He didn’t get many days off like this, and even when he did, you two usually opted to stay indoors.

Iwazumi’s olive green eyes wandered all over your figure. From your luscious hair to your spring dress. Iwazumi never understood how someone like you could be with someone like him.

And he probably never would.

But Iwazumi was thankful for it everyday. His life, mentality, happiness, and just overall being was so much better with you in it.

Iwazumi’s eyes landed on the familiar street sign and he frowned. He didn’t want to go home yet. He wanted to stay out and witness your beauty in the sun.

Iwazumi gently pulled at your pinky, getting your attention. The 5’10 college student’s ears were slightly red when you looked up at him.

“Hajj? What’s wrong?”

Iwazumi’s eyes landed on the park across the street.

“I don’t wanna go back yet, love.”

You nodded and adjusted your dress. “What do you want to do?”

Iwazumi looked down at you and your eyes sparkled. He had a feeling you knew what he wanted, but you were going to make him say it.

With a small smile, Iwazumi tugged you towards the park.

“Read to me under the sun.”

You laughed as you followed him, your eyes on his red ears. Seeing your boyfriend getting flustered was the favourite part of your day, and it happened so rarely that when it did, you couldn’t help but smile.

You and Iwazumi both reached the park. The park consisted of a large piece of land with a small children’s playground in the middle. Iwazumi led you to the other side of the park, away from the screaming children and the barking dogs.

Iwazumi stopped in a beautiful green patchy spot and you instantly sat down, fixing your dress and crossing your legs.

From the ground, you looked up at Iwazumi. The sun almost blinding you. You patted your lap and grinned at the wide smile that spread across Iwazumi’s face. The man instantly laid down, his head in your lap and his hands laced together on his chest.

You brought the book to your face, slightly further away so Iwazumi had a clear view of your face. You flipped through the first couple of pages and then cleared your throat, smiling for a second when your eyes met Iwazumi’s.

“While I was still in Amsterdam, I dreamed about my mother for the first time in years. I’d been shut up in my hotel for more than a week—”

Iwazumi was listening, he swear he was, but the way the sun shined on your skin, creating this beautiful glow that had allured him, had the words that slipped off your tongue uninterested.

Your free hand ran through Iwazumi’s dark hair, untangling the pieces. You read with a comfortable ease, having gotten used to reading aloud to Iwazumi. You could feel Iwazumi’s stare but you tried to ignore it.

After you had read almost two pages, you paused and your eyes flickered down.

Iwazumi’s olive green eyes shined as they looked up at you and you bit your lip, flustered at the intensity of his gaze.

“Why are you staring at me like that, Haji?”

“You’re so beautiful in the sun, my love.”

When you broke out into an embarrassed smile, Iwazumi’s heart clenched in his chest. He could stay like this forever. His head in your lap as you played with his hair, reading to him.

If there was a heaven, he knew that his would like this. With you staring down at him with a smile as the sun shined on your skin.

Iwazumi wondered if the rest of the park had fallen in love with you yet. If they too had been captured and blinded by your glow and beauty.

Iwazumi was so in love with you. He often wondered what he did to deserve you. You thought the same thing about him. What did you do in your past life to get someone like him?

Iwazumi brought his hand to your chin, gently rubbing your lips with his thumb.

This was it, Iwazumi thought. This is all I could ever want.

omg i’ve never written for iwa before. how exciting! i love him. i should write for him more.

taglist: @h-grangerstudies @iwasumi @snoozless @elektrosonix @bokuatsubro @ackerpotato @asterroidd @rinrinniesstuff @howcanyoubreathewithnozaire @addicedtoeverythinganime @uglystupidbxtch @qualitygiantshoepsychic @aoi-turtle @felixsamour

daddyjackfrost © 2021 | all content belongs to me, do not modify

[author-morgan]

Your work is so good, you should do this for a living! Your Ivarr stories are treasurers! Because quality Ivarr content that matches up exactly with my fantasies are rare, and I'm shit poet...

Could you please do one where the clan's dainty sweetheart secretly has the hots for Ivarr but avoids him because she doesn't know how to act around him.

He's also into her but thinks she hates him.

She gets terribly drunk for first time ever, throws herself at Ivarr...

Confused but also turned on, he internally struggles because doesn't want to take advantage of her.

He puts her to bed/or gets someone else to do it? Ubba? Because he doesn't trust himself to be alone with her?

Finds her when she's sober and not hungover, confronts her because drunken words are sober thoughts. She's embarrassed but they end up having really great sex!!!

i do write for a living, just not creative writing oh the joys of academia. apologies for the long wait, but here's more Ivarr! hope you enjoy! ♥ i kind of went overboard (like 3.3k words overboard) but it's Ivarr and i'm thirsty as hell for this bastard. Ivarr the Boneless x fem!Reader

EIVOR SHAKES HIS head. His arms crossed with a frown playing on his lips. He doesn’t see what you do —why of all the people in Midgard, you only have eyes for Ivarr the Boneless. Even Ubba would be a better choice, he thinks. It’s in Eivor’s nature to worry over and protect the ones he loves after all he’s lost. You are another example of Styrbjorn’s charity to those he considered friends, just as he is Sigurd’s brother in all but blood, you are their sister and have been for many years —becoming a temper for the two rowdy boys, favoring the healing arts over swordplay and battle.

Since Eivor’s initial meeting with Ivarr in Repton, there’s been something about his methods and outlook that sets Eivor at unease, even more so now that he’s caught Ivarr’s gaze lingering on you —like now during the autumn feast. Some jest, saying opposites attract, and while that seldom seems to be the truth, it is for you and Ivarr. He is cold iron, warm blood, a harsh winter —and you’re soft silks, a cool breeze, fresh spring blooms.

He’s seen the looks you share with Ivarr. Fleeting and flirtatious, but that is nigh all you share besides few rushed words in passing. Ivarr cuts an intimidating presence, and you’ve never been quite sure how to converse with warriors beyond your brothers. It’s nigh as difficult for Ivarr —all he knows is bloodlust and his fellow drengrs— finding the right words to say is not a battle he thinks he can win. There’s fondness between you, almost everyone can see it, but there are times when Ivarr is left to wonder if you truly like him or if your soft smiles and kind words are only a product of his reputation.

Ivarr’s feelings are clear to himself, though, especially as he watches you among the people of Ravensthorpe, partaking in the autumn festivities. Seeing you wear a crown of gold and amber leaves, dancing with Ceolbert to the drunken tune of Bragi and his tagelharpa with a tankard of Tekla’s mead in hand makes his heart beat faster, and his mouth go dry. He keeps to the benches, reminding himself that a drengr does not dance —at least not this type of dance.

The evening fades, but the festivities don’t. Soma claims her clan throws the best feasts, though you’re tempted to challenge the jarlskona for the title since Ravensthorpe has grown. You look around, searching for your brothers, but Sigurd has retired for the evening, and Eivor is slumped over on one of the tables, asleep —his hand still curled around the handle of his mead cup. Sighing, you find Ivarr’s gaze in the hazy air of the longhouse, half-shocked by the intensity and darkness, half-eager to return the lust-laden stare with your own.

Emboldened by the mead, you gather another horn and move across the longhouse where Ivarr sits. With a smile, you offer him the horn of mead before taking the empty spot on the bench next to him. He eyes you, curious, as he turns up the horn —downing the mead in a few gulps— and turns his attention to you. Spurred on by the moment, you lean closer, twisting to drape your legs across his thighs, squirming more than needed. “What game are you playing at, little dove?” Ivarr asks, his gaze dark and tone dangerous. You only smile, flitting your eyes up to meet his as you tip up your cup.

The soft plucking lyre strings and the low thrum of the tagelharpa are nigh enough to lull you to sleep coupled with the stillness. When you start to sway, both from the trance of the music and the heaviness of your eyes, Ivarr brings you closer to his side before deciding it best to see you off for the night —lest he is on the receiving end of Sigurd or Eivor’s anger. Ivarr pushes the bench back from the table, slipping his arms around your shoulders and beneath your knees, rising with you cradled in his arms —head resting on the leather of his shoulder pauldron.

When Ivarr places you on the straw and rag stuffed mattress of your cottage at the eastern edge of the settlement, you are not eager to part with him —the bulge tenting his britches tell you he’s not eager to leave you either. “Don’t” —you hiccup, lips turning into a pout as you lift the hem of your skirt to show the bare skin of your calves and beyond— “don’t you want me?”

Gods, Ivarr wants you. Just the thought of lying with you sets his blood hot and racing —like a giddy boy before his first battle. He doesn’t think he’s ever wanted a woman more. But he can smell the mead on your breath and see the weariness hiding in your eyes. Ivarr knows it is the drink speaking for you, and he will not be the one to dishonor such a woman as you. “You’ve too much drink, little dove,” he chides in a rough chuckle, uncurling your fingers from their hold on his tunic. “Sleep,” Ivarr says, sitting back on his haunches —drinking in your appearance for a final time, “I doubt you’ll say the same thing come the morning.”

MORNING BREAKS AND so does your uneasy rest. The scent of smoke and mead clings to your skin and clothes, as does a dried sheen of sweat. Rising, you strip out of the soiled clothes and into a linen shift. With the hour still early and some only just retiring for bed from the feast, you gather up a cake of soap and boar-bristle brush, heading toward the small waterfall and pool at the northern edge of the settlement. Sparing a quick look around and now certain you’re alone, you strip, stepping into the clear, cool water with a sharp inhale.

Humming a soft song, you wring the suds from your hair and cross toward the bank where your clothes lay, but the snap of a branch underfoot stops you. Gaze darting around, you see him emerge from behind the trunk of a large tree near the stables. “Ivarr,” you greet, not shying away from his wandering gaze. His silence and the look in his eyes make you smile as you wade in his direction, stopping when the water brushes the underside of your breasts. “Are you watching me?” It’s a redundant question that needs no answer besides the hungry look in Ivarr the Boneless’s eyes.

“What you said last night–” he starts, voice surprisingly cautious, but you cut him off with a wave of a hand and scolding grin. “I was not that drunk, Ivarr.” Tekla’s mead had not dulled your senses, only gave you the courage to act on buried feelings. He lifts his brow and rakes his hand through his parted hair. “And yes. I meant it,” you tell him, wearing the same look now as you had last night nigh begging Ivarr to have his way with you. If Ivarr is surprised by the truth of your feelings, he hides it well. You motion to the pristine pool of water and bite down on your bottom lip before finding his gaze again. “Join me?”

Ties and buckles rustle as he hastily kicks away his boots, drops the fittings of his armor, and does away with his britches and tunic. Ivarr circles you like a wolf eyeing his wounded prey, and then he pounces, wrapping an arm around your middle, pulling your back flush against his chest. He leans forward, trailing his nose along your shoulder and neck —rough hands trailing up your sides and around to your breasts, squeezing them and teasing your nipples between his thumbs and forefingers.

When you gasp, he bites down on your shoulder and rocks his hips into your ass with a low chuckle. “You know who I am?” He means it as a warning —a warning of his bloodthirsty and unkind nature, that he is not a man to sing sweet songs or offer tender caresses. You already know that, having been privileged to witness Ivarr the Boneless in battle and know him outside of his craft.

“I do,” you answer, unwilling to shy away. He sucks in a sharp breath when you turn to face him, stepping closer and look up at him under lidded eyes with a wicked smile that sends blood rushing to his already half-hard cock. Careening toward Ivarr, you brush your lips across his jaw, settling one hand over the dark tattoo of Yggdrasil on his breast. “And if I wanted gentle,” you breathe at his ear, nipping at his neck, “I would fuck one of the Saxon monks.”

Ivarr laughs, grinning, but it falters when you reach below the water and squeeze his cock and balls, giving no doubt to your intentions or your wants. “Careful, little dove,” he hisses, tilting your chin up. He hunches, ashen hair half-falling before his face as he leans down and kisses you, warm, open-lipped, and intoxicating.

You pull back with a groan, and Ivarr chasing your lips, stopped only by your hands cupping his face —thumb tracing the deep scar on his cheek. “While giving the gods a show sounds delightful” —Ivarr’s lusty eyes take on a twinkle at the thought. Suddenly he’s picturing you splayed out on a Christian altar, spent from his love with his seed dripping from your cunt. His cock twitches, pressed tight against your belly— “Sigurd or Eivor finding us like this is less enticing.” Had it been anyone other than Ivarr, your brothers would have turned a blind eye, but neither have particularly liked the interest you and Ivarr show in one another.

Stepping back, you grip onto his wrist, staying his hands from their wandering assault, and pull him toward the waterfall and the small cave beyond. Before Ivarr has a chance to move again, you smile for him in the dim light, sliding an open hand to the nape of his neck, drawing him closer. With your lips pressed against his, Ivarr can only reciprocate —he parts your lips with his tongue, hands curling into your hips in a vice grip. But when the kiss breaks, you shimmy from his grasp and trail your lips to the dip in his neck —licking and laving.

“Having your lips on my skin is torture,” he inhales, hand fisting in your hair as you move down to the tattoo of Sleipnir at the center of his chest. You laugh softly and lean back, his eyes piercing through you. The smile on your lips is roguish, but you do not let up, making your way to his abdomen where a few small scars are clustered. Ivarr moans above you, and you haven’t even touched his aching, dripping cock yet. His hand reaches for your breasts, but you knock it away, having yearned for this moment for too long to let it slip away.

He titters at your enthusiasm and rolls his hips forward. Not dissuaded, you press your lips to the scar next to his navel, right below one of the dark runes tattooed on his abdomen. The hand still twined in your hair tightens, pushing you down to your knees. Ivarr’s legs are powerfully built, the muscles of his calves and thighs flex as you run your hand over them appreciatively, still finding small scars to trace and kisses, purposefully ignoring the hard cock pressed against his stomach. His hands clench as you kiss the skin of his thighs, your hair tickling the underside of his cock.

You smile at his surprised gasp when you drag the flat of your tongue along his cock, tracing along a vein running up the length of his shaft. Ivarr’s unable to hold back his groan when your fingers wrap around his girth, giving a few heavy strokes. And then, without warning, you wrap your lips around the head of his cock. He tastes of salt and iron and something forbidden and dangerous. Taking his cock as far as you can, you press your tongue against the underside, silently humming.

Above you, Ivarr chokes your name like a ragged prayer —it fills you with pride to know the son of Ragnar Lodbrok is coming apart at your hands and mouth, unable to say anything but your name. The lords of England may fear the whisper of his name, but right now, he is at your mercy.

Slowly, he begins to thrust himself into your mouth, but he makes no move to command your movements. Instead, his impatience wins over. He pulls you away from pleasuring him with your mouth. “Enough,” Ivarr says, his voice ragged as he crouches down, hand sliding from your hair and down to tweak one of your pebbled nipples, then lower still until he comes to the warmth between your thighs, slick with arousal. You whimper, gripping onto Ivarr’s shoulder when he pushes two fingers into your cunt, curling and thrusting. “On your knees, little dove,” he rasps. He warned you, and now he means to make good on his silent promise.

You struggle to gain your balance on the uneven ground of the small cave, but soon did, only to nigh lose it again when Ivarr slides the blunt head of his cock through your slick folds —thrice over before gripping onto your shoulder with one hand and guiding himself into your warmth with the other. Ivarr’s moan when he sinks inside you is breathless and airy, a misplaced sound from the likes of him. He grips you tight —one hand on your shoulder still, the other on your hip— holding your squirming body still as he eases his way into you. Your shoulders curl forward at the sudden wide spread of his cockhead into your body, fingers digging into the soft earth beneath you.

Ivarr pants against your shoulders —you can feel the open brush of his mouth along the sensitive skin of your spine and neck— as he draws his hips back and slams his cock back into you. You buck your hips back in time with his thrust, and Ivarr growls. You move with him as he fucks into you, squeezing with your inner muscles and whimpering in loud gasps. “Ivarr,” you chant, over-and-over.

He’s pounding hard immediately, giving in to the hunger that’s been consuming the both of you for far too long to be decent. His fingers are strong, streaking against your skin as his grip slides, something to discolor and bruise you by evening. But it feels so fucking good. You toss your head back, finding a glimpse of his face in this aching position with back arched, teeth shining in the low light, and eyes burning on you. He’s feral and ruined, and his fingers bend on your skin.

The building tension fades when he draws back, leaving you aching and empty. Ivarr spins you to face him as he reclines. “Ride me,” he commands, kissing you quickly, with an open mouth and teeth scraping your bottom lip. You pull away from the kiss, moving so you could sit atop him, straddling his hips, his back against a smoothed boulder. Breathless, Ivarr cannot be bothered with the loss of control —reckless abandon shines in your eyes, and he cannot help but grin as you slide down on his cock. He grunts enthralled at the feel of your warm cunt around him, walls clenching to feel every ridge and vein.

Moments pass, and you begin to move on top of Ivarr, rolling your hips into his. He groans, rough hands torn between holding onto your hips or pawing at your breasts. Instead, he decides to push himself up and let his lips attack your jaw and throat —biting and suckling— and annoyed at the slow in pace, Ivarr thrusts his hips up into yours, a sign to move faster. You don’t hesitate —lost to the exquisite bliss, clawing, desperate and eager. Holding Ivarr’s face in your hands, you try finding his lips with your own, but all you can do is moan and pant with him into his mouth, lost in the craven pleasure.

Ivarr bites hard in the crook of your shoulder and neck as he repeatedly drives his hips upward, chasing his and your releases. One of his hands slips between your bodies —his calloused thumb teasing your clit in a way that makes your hips stutter and body trembles, nails clawing into Ivarr’s shoulders. He grits his teeth, wondering if his little dove had broken skin. The burst of pain fades quickly as he watches your body bounce in time with his thrusts and listens to the moans and pants echoing off the cave walls and water.

He knows he’s close, his pants ragged and thrusts sloppy and desperate. The hitch in your breathing when he presses his thumb against your clit tells him you’re close to. It’s the boiling heat between you that takes hold, curling your toes and parting your lips in a silent throe, hands digging into Ivarr’s biceps as he chases his pleasure —teeth bared and bright eyes burning. Several thrusts later, his body tenses, and a dull warmth spreads between your connected bodies, and still, he is not done with the thrill of how you tremble and whine above him, but the rhythm soon slows, and you fall forward, resting your head on Ivarr’s chest.

You sit there, savoring the last twinges of carnal gratification, with your bodies rising and falling as you breathe in unison. And when the haze clears, you trace the small scars near his shoulders and follow the blue-black runes tattooed on his middle.

After what feels like an eternity, you feel him shift underneath you, sitting up on his hands. Ivarr glances over you —the small purple marks at the base of your neck from his lips and teeth, how your nipples are still hard, begging to have his mouth on them, and how your bodies are still connected. His cock is soft now, his seed seeping from your cunt and drying on your thighs —Ivarr thinks it a glorious sight. He hisses as he pulls himself out of your warmth, slowly, relishing in the gasps and whimpers you make at the resultant empty feeling it leaves between your thighs.

With flushed cheeks and swollen lips, you tell him you must go —this escapade would have already made you late for your daily duties, and the last thing you wish is for one of your brothers or Valka to find you in this state. He follows you from the cave behind the waterfall, back to the bank where his and your clothes are strewn. Gentler than you’d imagine, Ivarr kisses your cheek, then the corner of your mouth, before cupping your face with strong, rough fingers and moving your lips back to his. You let him move you, kissing you back, smiling against his mouth. “Come to me at nightfall,” you breathe against his lips, parting to gather up your clothes and shoes.

Ivarr grins, swatting your ass before pulling you against his chest, keeping you from reaching for your linen shift —his chin resting on your shoulder as his hand slides between your legs and two fingers sinking into your cunt, still slick with your essence and his seed. “That eager for my cock again, little dove?” He laughs.

He’s silenced when you grind back into his hips with a glint of mischief shining in your eyes. Ivarr lets you go, though reluctant, and watches you dress from the corner of his eye. It’s impulse driving you when you decide duties can wait. Smiling, you grip onto Ivarr’s wrist —he’s only half-dressed in his britches and boots, tunic in hand— and drag him away from the waterfall and toward your home in the settlement. Consequences be damned. It feels as though the gods made you and Ivarr for one another, and you aren’t willing to let another moment be wasted.

[taglist: @elizabethroestone @kitkitvm @elluvians @fullmoonwolfer1 @ghostieisalone @boodaga @southsideslutt @dynamite-with-a-lazerbeam @lizlovecraft @heathensith @alexisp787 @nobodyydobon @certifiedlittleshit ] if your name is italicized, tumblr wouldn’t let me tag you. if you want to be added to my taglist for Ivarr, just let me know in the replies or a DM!

[tamakiamajikistentacles]

Bite to Break Skin {Katsuki Bakugo}

A/N: Please be sure to reblog, comment, review, and like if you enjoy! Feedback is what keeps me motivated! Welcome to my first time writing for A/B/O dynamics, one of my absolute favorite things in fanfic. There’s so much potential and I’m definitely interested in exploring it with other characters! Just a small heads up, this one is pretty dialogue heavy throughout.

“C’mon,” he said as his breathing finally slowed, “we gotta get up.”

The fingers combing through his damp hair paused. “Can I wear your shirt?”

“You’ve been wearin’ ‘em for years, ain’t gonna stop you now, idiot,” he huffed as he peeled himself away from her, their skin tacky with sweat. “Let’s go.”

“Don’t be shitty to me, Katsuki, I have your virginity!”

“And I have yours. Even exchange. No reason to stop teasing you,” he grunted. Pulling her to her feet he guided her towards his bathroom with a hand on her lower back.

They cleaned up in easy silence, each of them still feeling the content fuzziness in their minds that now seemed amplified and even better than usual. At different points they briefly wondered if that was normal after losing their virginities.

Probably, they decided. For them it was a natural progression in their over two-year relationship. Having gotten together just after the provisional license exam in their first year their hero course schedules only got busier and they got less time to spend together between classes and training and work studies and internships. But those moments were coveted and left plenty of time for them to take their relationship at the perfect pace for them.

Two years of wandering hands and mouths had culminated that afternoon while the majority of the class had gone to the shopping district and neither of them could regret a single thing about it.

“Katsuki?”

She felt warmth bloom in her chest as he looked over his shoulder, his eyes half-lidded and expression relaxed. “Yeah?”

“I love you,” she smiled, fingers absently twisting the hem of his shirt that she wore.

“’Course you do,” he smirked as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder and returned them to his bed, the grey sheets rumpled. He bunched them down to the end of the mattress and laid down, pulling her to lie next to him curled into his side.

He was always so warm and she loved it, now especially as the chill of January lingered in the dorm hallways and throughout their rooms. Being close to him as they laid together was one of her favorite things about their relationship. As much as he seemed like a loner in their first weeks at UA she never believed it was true and once they were together behind closed doors he was happy as long as they had some sort of contact with each other. She’d never been prouder of being right than that day.

His attentiveness was something she knew would likely contribute heavily to his secondary gender when he presented in the future. There was no doubt in her mind that he would be an alpha, and an amazing one at that. His protective streak and pride in his own abilities couldn’t be attributed to any other presentation. While she herself was unsure of what she would present as, he had always promised that it didn’t matter.

“Alphas want omegas but I want you, and that means I get you no matter what we are,” he’d grumbled one evening not that long ago when she revealed her fears of presenting as a beta and not being what his alpha would need. “Secondary gender can go fuck itself if it thinks I’d leave you over some random omega. Shit, you don’t even know if I’d be an alpha anyway, dumbass.”

If she hadn’t been sure about him before, that conversation had cemented it in her mind and in her heart. Katsuki Bakugo was the one for her and it sent her heart into a tailspin to know that he felt the same way.

She pressed herself closer to him, basking in the warmth of his body and of her thoughts.

“You’re warm,” he mumbled against her forehead.

“So’re you.”

“Nah, your skin’s pink like you took one of your showers from hell.”

She huffed out a laugh. “’M fine, Katsuki. It’s ‘cause you’re warm and I’m still kinda hot from before.”

“You’re always hot,” he said with a pinch to the seat of her underwear.

“Just cuddle me, you ass.”

His arms tightened around her and they laid together in comfortable silence. At one point she started to doze against the warmth of Katsuki’s chest, one hand on his hip at the waistband of his sweats. She’d never felt safer.

In the middle of her dreamless nap she awoke to a persistent poking to her nose. When she opened her eyes, her boyfriend’s furrowed brow came into focus as she blinked. He pressed the back of his hand against her forehead.

“You’ve got a fever.”

She wanted to protest but the trails of sweat she could feel having trickled down her back was unmistakable. She definitely felt warm but she wasn’t disoriented or feeling sick.

“It’s like a full body fever,” Katsuki muttered, dropping his hand from her forehead.

“I feel really hot, but I don’t feel sick,” she told him, sleep leaving her as confusion took over.

He fisted the collar of the shirt she wore at the base of her neck, squeezing for just a moment before pulling back a glistening hand.

“Shirt’s soaked with sweat, take it off and I’ll get you one of my tanks,” he said, rolling out of bed and walking over to his drawers.

She peeled the sticky fabric from her skin, the feeling more uncomfortable than the fact that she was sitting topless once it was off. Nothing Katsuki hadn’t seen plenty of times after all.

A black tank top hit her chest before falling to her lap and she picked it up immediately, pressing her nose into the bundle. It’d barely been a minute since he left her side but she needed the comfort. Which is why when all she smelled was the scent of detergent her nose wrinkled.

“It doesn’t smell like you,” she complained, and he laughed from where he was straightening the other tank tops in his drawer.

“It’s clean, dumbass, I haven’t worn it yet. I’ll be next to you again in like two seconds anyway.”

“Hurry up,” she whined, slipping the tank top over her head and surprising him with her needy tone. “I haven’t smelled roasting chestnuts in almost two minutes, this is cruel. I even miss the little bit of sugar.”

He turned to her with furrowed brows. “I smell like that right now?”

“You smell like that all the time, ever since I’ve known you. What, you don’t know what your own cologne smells like anymore? You gone nose blind?”

He shook his head slowly. “My cologne is sandalwood. Always has been. The sugar I’ll give you because of my quirk but your perfume has nothing on that with your sweet cherries’n shit.”

Now it was her turn to be confused. “That’s not my perfume, Katsuki. My perfume is the same floral one I’ve worn since middle school, it’s not fruity or sweet at all. Come here, do I smell like that now?”

He crossed back over to the bed and sat in front of her, gently tugging her forward to press his nose into her hair. Her face tucked under his chin and she breathed in the same familiar scent.

“Sugared cherries just like always,” he muttered. “Do I…?”

“Mhm, roasted chestnuts with a pinch of sugar,” she replied almost dreamily. It was stronger than usual, but maybe that’s because she was concentrating on it. It felt like it was surrounding her and through her and it made her skin burn hotter. It was good. So so good, and she wanted and she needed more.

She pressed herself closer to him, his confused grunt falling on deaf ears until he grabbed her shoulders and pulled her from himself to look at her. He’d felt her skin grow warmer against his bare chest, the heat startling. But when he looked at her panic shot through him as she doubled over with a whimper.

He called her name but she didn’t answer, just clutched her stomach harder while curling further into herself and whining low in her throat.

“Alright, hey, hey, listen, okay? I’m calling Aizawa, he’ll help us figure out what’s wrong,” he tried to soothe, pulling her back into his chest. Her skin burned against his but he needed her to know he was here, he wasn’t going anywhere when she wasn’t alright.

It was awkward trying to reach his phone on the bedside table with her curled against him but he was hellbent on making her feel better and if that meant practically popping his shoulder out of its socket with the stretch so fucking be it.

“What’s wrong, Bakugo?” was the greeting he got and he immediately started listing off what was happening as she continued to tremble in his lap.

“She’s burning up to the point I feel like I’m touching an oven and she—”

“Todoroki’s still in the dorms, call him up and have—”

“NO!” he snarled into the phone. “He doesn’t need to be near her, just tell me how I can help her! She’s in fucking pain and nearly incoherent right now! You’re not fucking helping me!”

Aizawa was silent for a long moment. “Bakugo, where are you two?”

“We’re in my dorm and I’d appreciate if you could save the damn lecture for when she’s actually conscious enough to fuckin’ hear it too.”

“How long has she been like this? What was she doing when she started feeling the fever? Is there anything that’s—”

“For fuck’s sake, I don’t know! An hour or so and we were just here, she was asleep while I scrolled through my phone.”

Aizawa’s tone went knowing as he prompted, “And before that?”

He weighed his options for answering. They were already in shit for her being on the boys’ side of the dorms, how much worse could it be? They were consenting adults and they were responsible about it and if it did help figure out why she was—

“That’s what I thought,” Aizawa sighed before he could decide how to answer. “I can’t be there to help but I’m sending Recovery Girl. Try and keep her comfortable until she arrives.”

When the line went dead, he could only mumble out curses as he dropped his phone and kept her pressed against him. Her little noises of pain had lessened and she didn’t feel as tightly coiled in his arms as she had, but he was still worried. At least the old lady might actually be able to do something.

“Well I must hand it to Aizawa,” Recovery Girl chuckled as she pulled the thermometer from her lips, “the man does know his students.”

“The hell are you laughing for?” Bakugo hissed. He had been pacing back and forth while she examined her, hovering close and getting more frustrated by the moment. Sure, his girlfriend didn’t seem to be in pain at the moment but he wanted whatever caused it to be taken care of now.

“Don’t take that tone with me, boy, you may be an alpha but I won’t be disrespected.”

He did a double take, sputtering, “An alpha? I’m eighteen, I haven’t presented!”

She smiled in amusement. “Not fully, no, but you’re both presenting as we speak. Fated mates can present at an earlier age when establish an intimate connection prior to turning twenty. It likely hit her first being an omega and that pulled you over too. I must say I’m a bit surprised as fated mates are quite rare at your age, though maybe even more so that this took so long. It’s admirable of you children to take things slow but when I was your age—”

“We’re fated mates?” she murmured, breaking the older woman’s rambling. “So we…?”

“Quite a spin on the high school sweetheart’s trope wouldn’t you say? Certainly a story for the pups.”

“Wait, so she’s burning up because…” he trailed off as his cheeks flushed pink. “This is…”

“Yes, yes, this is her heat beginning and your rut will follow, keep up boy. I’m sure I don’t need to go into detail on that—”

“NO!” they shouted together, mortified.

She laughed, high pitched and maniacal. “Oh alright, I’ve had my fun. You children are so easy to poke at these days. But I do suppose we need to get you prepared for the next week or so. Dear, make a list of things you’ll need from your room and Bakugo will go fetch them for you.”

“I can’t just go myself?”

“Look at that boy’s face and tell me he’s alright with you leaving his den.”

Of course when she looked to him Katsuki’s face was contorted into an angry grimace, his lips twitching back to bare his teeth.

“Just tell me what you need,” he ground out, and she quickly rattled off everything she could think of that she may possibly need. Without a word he disappeared through the door, a lingering touch to her hand a silent promise to return quickly so as to soothe any worries of abandonment or actions that could be interpreted as rejection by her inner omega.

Recovery Girl turned the chair towards her and grabbed her bag from the floor. “We have a few things to discuss now, dear.”

She went over the arrangements made by Aizawa for their classes and schoolwork as well as daily drop offs of prepared bento boxes for them since they wouldn’t be leaving Bakugo’s room. Their parents had been contacted which sent a fresh wave of nausea through her for reasons other than the heat, but she was assured that it wasn’t as a punishment since they were both eighteen. Still, she could only image the conversation she would hear at the end of her heat when she heard from home.

Expectations of what would happen during the shared heat and rut were next and she while she was sure her face couldn’t get any hotter, she was proven wrong. As awkward as it was though, at least she was talking it over with another woman; having the same conversation with Aizawa would have killed her.

Finally, it seemed that the verbal torture was finished as Recovery Girl reached into her medical bag with one hand and beckoned her closer with the other.

“Let me see your arm, I need to give you a preventative injection.”

“Ah, I uhm,” she stuttered, cheeks still reddened but not from the heat, “I’m already taking…”

Recovery Girl shook her head with a chuckle. “Presenting alters your existing biology by releasing additional hormones which awaken parts of your mind and body that contribute to the primal instincts of your secondary gender. Generic contraceptive methods would be fine for a newly presented beta but as an omega the hormones released at presentation boost your fertility to a point where the pill may as well be candy for all the prevention it does.”

“Oh.”

“Yes, ‘oh.’ Now unless you and that boy of yours have decided that you want pups within the year I need to give you this.” The syringe was brandished in front of her.

She held out her arm and she cleaned the area with a swab before feeling the familiar prick to her skin and the cold chill spread into her heated blood.

“Any last questions for me before he gets back?”

She went to shake her head but paused. “Just… what about our quirks?”

“Nothing to worry about, dear. Quirks take a backseat during these times unless a threat arises. Once bonded you will kill and die for the other and your pups, but for right now you two shouldn’t have an issue. I’d say ‘won’t’ but I think we both know your class has a habit of finding trouble, hm?”

“More like trouble finds us,” came a grunt from the doorway.

Katsuki reentered the room with her laundry basket on his hip and a tote bag over his shoulder. He visibly relaxed as he crossed the threshold and set her things on the floor at the foot of his bed.

She sat down on the plush area rug to go through what he’d brought, her legs tucked beneath her as Recovery Girl began speaking to him about the upcoming week like she’d done for her.

Rifling through the laundry basket she pulled out her pillows and blankets as well as her favorite hoodies, then she pulled everything out of the tote and put those sweaters and shirts onto Katsuki’s bed. Once everything was piled atop his sheets she began to sort through everything, enjoying the familiar smell of her own things mixing with the scent of Katsuki’s den. She hoped he would scent a few of his shirts and let her use his pillows and blankets for her nest.

“…and once you know the heat and rut have passed I’d like you to give me a call so I can come and assess you two.”

“Whatever,” Katsuki mumbled, his cheeks burning from the conversation as he took the offered slip of paper with her number. He’d never been more relieved to have a conversation end, and as soon as the door closed behind the terrible old bat he turned back to his girlfriend and his heart nearly stopped.

She was absently arranging his sheets with some of what he’d brought from her dorm to make the beginnings of her nest. Their combined scents filled his room to an almost dizzying potency but he had never felt more alive, more proud, and his inner alpha growled happily in his chest. Here was his mate, his omega, building a sweet-smelling nest in his den for the two of them and their pups.

The thought of pups broke through the haze of his instincts to allow nerves to set it. They were only eighteen and just about to finish their last few months at UA before becoming fully licensed heroes. Having pups wasn’t something they could do, at least… at least not now.

Recovery Girl had mentioned the preventative and rationally he knew that she wouldn’t give them something designed to fail and he was grateful for that but at the same time, he’d love to have pups with his mate. She was everything he could ever imagine wanting in a partner and he knew his mate would be the best mother to his pups. He’d thought so long before they presented and he was sure he’d think it until he took his last breath.

Her soft voice brought him out of his musings as she looked up at him through her lashes and shyly asked, “Could you… scent a few of your shirts and sweaters? For the nest?”

“’Course,” he replied, and seeing her eyes flicker towards his discarded pillows added, “You can use anything of mine. We’re mates.”

The heat-induced flush on her cheeks darkened slightly with embarrassment, but she nudged his pillow towards him anyway. He grabbed it and held it in his hands feeling both uncharacteristically anxious about scenting something for the first time and filled with pride at his mate seeking out his scent for her nest.

As he scented different things for her and she took them to construct their home for the next week or so he could see the flush fading little by little and he saw less sweat droplets running down her hairline. It was almost as if the larger and more structured the nest grew the tamer her inner omega became. That soothed him too, making him thankful for the calm before the storm of her first heat really began and pulled his rut to the forefront with it.

He leaned against the far wall as she worked in silence arranging their things into the what he assumed was a perfect nest—he didn’t know much about omega nesting instincts but it looked inviting enough to him that he had no qualms about spending the next week tangled with her in the textile haven. It was as if the movement she caused sent more of that sweet smell of hers wafting through the room and he could’ve sworn the sugary scent was getting stronger by the moment.

With a few last cursory pats to the sweatshirt walls she looked up at him.

"Do you think we'll lose ourselves in the heat and rut?" she asked quietly, shifting from foot to foot.

Katsuki sighed. "That's what happens with most people."

"You know, I… I knew you were it for me a long time ago, Katsuki. This morning is an amazing memory and I guess, even if this is how we get to spend the rest of our lives I'd like to remember this first too."

"Then maybe we can bond before it fully hits. I can… smell that it's going to hit hard again and that you're already feeling it creep up.”

The slick feeling between her thighs meant he was probably right. "Yeah. Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. I guess I'm just nervous."

"Hey, I know this whole thing became way bigger than either of us thought but I’m still me—the alpha part doesn’t change that. Shit I couldn’t even think of hurting you without wanting to die before, can you imagine what type of insufferably sweet asshole I’m gonna be now?” he asked with only mild disgust as he crossed his room to lay one hand on her hip and the other on her cheek.

The smile he received was worth the uncomfortable admission of his feelings; reassurance wasn’t his forte and sharing his feelings even less so but he’d always try for her.

“I know, and I’m happy you’re the one I get to be with.”

“C’mon, your nest looks good,” he said, easing her forward towards his bed. “We able to get in it yet?”

She kissed his cheek. “Yeah, let’s get in our nest, alpha.”

The shudder was hard for him to suppress, but he allowed her to pull him into the plush space where they laid together once more. They laid on their sides facing one another and Katsuki reached out to stroke his thumb over the back of her hand where it lay between them.

It was an unspoken agreement to take all the time they could before allowing themselves to indulge in the instincts of their new secondary genders, and they spoke quietly about what it all meant for them.

Mates were more permanent than marriage and fated mates even more so. The idea of claiming bites at only eighteen was daunting but at the same time it was always the plan anyway. Of course they knew they’d present but that seemed far off and more inconsequential the longer they were together prior to a few hours ago. They had their after-graduation plans and a claim had been a mutual desire, and even pups sometime in the far future. Secondary gender, as Katsuki had loved to point out, wouldn’t change that.

But with the presentations occurring and revealing them as an alpha/omega pair there were still some things that hadn’t been discussed or planned for, and they needed to be addressed.

“I’m getting warmer,” she murmured.

“We’ve got a long week ahead of us but it’s nothing we can’t handle,” he smirked.

She gave him a weak smile and pushed past her nerves to bring up what had been on her mind since her talk with Recovery Girl.

"Will… will you…?"

"If you want to, we can bond now while we're still mostly clear-headed. Some shit I’d like to remember too, you know?"

Her cheeks went pink. "No—well, yes that's probably a good idea but I… I'm… will you actually knot me?"

He choked on his tongue. "Fuck, shit, do you want me to? Do I need to? For your heat?"

"I don’t— Don't you need it to get through your rut?"

"It's… I don't want to make the decision for you, alright? If you want me to I will and if you don’t I won’t. ‘S always your choice.”

She rolled onto her side to face him, one hand rising up to trace his cheekbone and the slope of his nose, even the dip of his cupid’s bow until she came to a stop at his chin. She pressed lightly and he turned his head to look at her.

“I’m not afraid of you or anything like that. It’s all just very sudden and a lot to wrap my head around, you know? Six hours ago we were virgins and now we’re literally together for life. That’s not bad, just a lot.”

“I know,” he mumbled. “But it’s why I want you to make the call. I ain’t gonna force you to do something you don’t want. We got forever to figure our shit out.”

She laughed. “Yeah we do. For now though, I want you to. We’re gonna bond today and then heatshare, rutshare, and get tied together for the next week. This morning was amazing and now that we know we’re fated mates I think that’s gonna make it even better.”

“Once is all it took to get you addicted, huh?”

“Shut up!” she whined as she pushed against his shoulder and turned away with a blush. His loud laughter echoed throughout his room and she crossed her arms with a pout.

“Oi. Look at me.”

She rolled onto her side to face him again, lips still pouted cutely. His eyes were soft as he looked over her face and she felt proud of the small smile upturning his mouth as he did.

He reached out to smooth a hand over her hair and then gently nudged her shoulder. “Lie back.”

She moved onto her back and he settled himself over her, lying between her parted legs. It was familiar and made her smile; they’d laid together like this a hundred times over the course of their relationship and maybe it was the perfect way to cross into something more permanent.

“Katsuki,” she murmured, feeling his hands go below the tank top. He pushed it up and over her head, tossing it to the side and fixing her with an unwavering gaze.

His hands slid beneath her, pressed between her body and the sheets below, and he kissed her softly. Her hands slid up his back before settling over the solid muscle of his shoulders.

“’M gonna be the best alpha on the fuckin’ planet,” he said as they pulled apart. His lips ghosted over her cheek and down her jaw to settle at her neck. “Know I already got the best omega.”

“Will you say it?” she asked quietly, closing her eyes.

The huff of a laugh and curl of his lips on her skin made her shiver. He moved in closer to her and raised up to whisper exactly what she wanted.

“I love you.”

Her arms tightened around him and tried pulling him closer but she knew it would never feel like enough until they bonded.

Katsuki seemed to understand that too because he moved back to her neck and grazed his lips teasingly for just a second before sinking his teeth into the perfect spot as a claim.

She gasped as her head tipped back at the rush of sensations that seemed to flow from the bite. Her brain filled with static but her body felt a rush of coldness like ice water had been poured over her to combat the heat she’d been feeling for so long. Her heart sped up in her chest and she knew it was synched perfectly with Katsuki’s. The entirety of her being was aligned with his and the bond cemented as she let herself move forward and bite into her mate’s neck to stake her own claim.

Time seemed to speed up before slowing down again when she was tasting blood off of both her and Katsuki’s lips as his hands cradled her face and kissed her deeply. The coolness she had experienced during the claim had been almost completely swallowed by the heat she felt pulsing through her and becoming tangible as a needy whine against his mouth. He was so close and smelled so perfect and she wondered if she could feel him closer, her hands digging into the defined muscles of his shoulders as she held him against her.

“Look at my pretty mate,” he said lowly, his voice hushed. He nosed against the underside of her jaw just above the fresh bite as his hands roamed over her torso. “My omega, smellin’ so sweet just for me.”

The purr that bubbled from her lips surprised her but his warm hands on her and the quiet praise pushed it aside quickly when he kneaded her chest.

Her hands traced over his arms, fingers trailing down over dips of muscle. “The strongest alpha I know is all mine. I’m so lucky to have such a handsome mate.”

A please growl rumbled through his chest as her fingers hooked in his waistband and began sliding down the sweatpants until he was able to kick them off. He quickly returned the favor with her underwear to leave them both completely bare. With their scents completely unhindered for the first time with the bond formed, they could both smell the heavy, warm sweetness of roasted chestnuts and cherries that filled his dorm room. It was spicy but soft and made their heads spin knowing that this was them.

Katsuki’s hands roamed the familiar curves of her body as he leaned forward to kiss around the bite mark, feeling her lips against his neck as she did the same to him. Shivers ran up his spine at the contact and a groan escaped him as his fingers reached the apex of her thighs.

“Tell me what you need.”

She whined, hands splayed on his toned stomach.

“C’mon, tell your alpha what you need,” he coaxed.

“You,” she whispered. “Your knot. Your pups. Our pups.”

When we’re ready, was the silent understanding about the request.

Their hips met as Katsuki rolled his forward, breathy moans coming from both of them as they relished the still-new feeling of intimacy and clutched onto one another tighter.

Instincts took over, cutting the moment short, and filled with room with groans and whines and pleas between the two of them. There was no slow fumbling like there had been earlier but instead the primal need to be closer and chase the pleasure that came with the heat and rut.

She kissed him hard as the heat throughout her body pooled low in her stomach and she could tell the difference in the feeling of closeness but her hazy mind couldn’t dwell on it past knowing that this was what she needed, what would finally cool her down at least a bit.

“You’re mine,” she murmured as her back arched up from the bed and her nails dug into his shoulders.

“’M yours. You’re mine,” he grunted, mouthing at the bite once more.

Their scents were overwhelming the closer they came to their end.

“C’mon alpha, need your knot,” she whined, crying out as he still within her.

His teeth sank into the bond mark fully again, and she bit into his as she felt exactly what her inner omega needed, what she herself wanted, and allowed herself to succumb to the feeling of contentment and pleasure she would live in with her mate going forward. Warm and sated and full and safe with her alpha was where she wanted to stay.

“Bakugo. A word.”

He stalked over to his teacher, watching his mate step into the hallway from the corner of his eye. The new bond was sensitive and he was anxious when he couldn’t be with her. “What?”

“May I ask which of you proposed the idea of a non-traditional bite?”

“The hell are you talking about? We both have bites and they’re scarring the right way.”

Aizawa regarded him silently for a moment before waving him off. “It’s not important. Go.”

The blonde rolled his eyes and left the room, and he gathered his sleeping bag in his arms to set up in the corner for his midday nap.

It was annoying and awkward to have to deal with the paperwork and phone calls to guardians because two of his problem children couldn’t keep it in their pants while on campus—what he wouldn’t give to have seen Mitsuki Bakugo deal with this shit—and he certainly didn’t like the fact that he had to relay to the class what had happened either. He had prepared what would’ve been one of his best punishments to date for when the overwhelming scent of newly presented and bonded mates had lessened at least a bit, but it had all been abandoned the moment the two stepped up to speak with him.

Her embarrassment was obvious, the fact that her twice her age male teacher knew exactly what had been happening in that room for the past week probably enough to make her want to vomit, but furious blush aside she held herself well. Bakugo had (likely somewhat unintentionally) over scented the room alarmingly with equal parts calm for his mate and warning to his alpha teacher, his own blush prominent.

What stood out though, was the bond mark on her neck. It was already scarring which was to be expected and its placement was correct but it was backwards. Traditionally a bond mark was given to an omega by an alpha in the midst of a shared heat and rut, primal positioning meaning that the bite was given from behind. It was biology, instinct, the overwhelming need to lay claim—he understood that, had experienced it many times over even long after a bond mark was given. Fated mates were more susceptible to this too, especially when presenting early.

But this type of bonding mark made him think that it wasn’t fueled by that need or desire built deep into the rumbling chest of an alpha. At least, not completely. Looking into someone’s eyes was intimate, vulnerabilities laid bare before the person they’re going to spend their life with. That wasn’t easy, and a week prior he would’ve said that Bakugo would probably never be able to do it. To see that it was quite the opposite and seemingly unconscious on his part was fascinating.

He considered that instinct wasn’t the reason but the more he thought about it as he sat cocooned within the warmth of his sleeping bag, the more he realized it may actually be the opposite. Maybe it was instinct. Love was funny like that sometimes.

A/N: Please be sure to reblog, comment, review, and like if you enjoy! Feedback is what keeps me motivated! I have a few ideas about a possible sequel for this story that would take place in the future when they’re ready, though nothing concrete just yet!