#it turned out a lot better than i thought it would so i'm hoping i can get close enough to the original style in working up to the idea i
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Hi, would you write a lovie fic where she’s learning how to ride her bike? And in the learning process she takes some tumbles, but in the end she learns it.
BALANCING ACT | alessia russo x child!reader
grumpy masterlist
it was a sunny day in london, painting the backyard in hues of gold and orange as alessia crouched down, adjusting the pink helmet strap on your chin, to stop it scratching. your wild little curls peeking out from under the helmet and a determined glint in your big blue eyes as you gripped the handlebars of your small pink bike.
the training wheels had officially came off and alessia's heart was doing an uneven dance between excitement but also worry and dread.
"you ready then, lovie?" your mummy asked, giving your cheek a gentle squeezed as you looked up a big grin on your face.
you had been begging your mummy for the past few weeks to take the training wheels of your bike telling her you were a big girl and didn't need them anymore and had nothing to do with the fact that all your friends from school were also learning to ride their bikes without training wheels.
"i'm ready!" you declared, your tiny hands tightening on the handlebars as your mummy positioned you so you were facing down the driveway as she silently hoped you were out the way of her car - not wanting it to get scratched.
with a soft smile, alessia placed her hands on the back of the seat, steadying the bike for you. "okay, remember to look ahead and keep pedalling. i've got you."
you gave her a resolute nod as your face scrunched up in concentration, alessia pushed gently on the back of the seat as she jogged alongside you as the little bike wobbled forward. and for a few glorious seconds, you were actually doing it. the pedals turned and you and the bike seemed to stay upright as you let out a excited giggle.
but then, the inevitable happened. the dread that had lingered in alessia's head happened.
the front wheel veered slightly and you tipped to the side, alessia's hands reached out trying to catch you but it was too late as you tumbled onto the grass on the side of the pavement.
you sat up, your lip quivering as you clutched your scraped knee. "owie" you whimpered, your fingers hovering over the fresh scrape.
"oh, lovie" your mummy cooed, scooping you up into her arms, kissing the top of your head as she brushed a stray tear that had escaped from your cheek, "lets get you inside and patched up!"
alessia carrying you into the kitchen before lifting you onto the counter and rummaged throught a drawer for a box of plaster, ones with a cartoon character of course as in your mind they worked so much better than the boring normal ones.
your tiny legs swinging back and forth as you watched your mummy carefully clean the scrape with a damp cloth. "does it hurt a lot?" your mummy asked softly, placing the cloth to one side.
"a little" you admitted but your voice wasn't as small as alessia had expected it to be.
"okay, now this plaster is magic" your mummy said with a grin as she peeled of a bright blue strip decorated with cartoon stars, "this will make you all better in no time!"
you gave your mummy an amused look, "magic?"
"absolutely, doctor mummy guarantees it!" alessia pressed the plaster gently over the scrape, giving it a little pat for good measure. as alessia turned to toss the wrapper away, she heard your little voice, matter of fact and full of determination.
"can we go back outside now?"
alessia froze, blinking as she processed the request, turning back to you as you were already trying to wriggle off the counter, "wait- you want to keep trying?"
"yeah!" your face lit up with a smile as you spoke so full of confidence as if it was the most obvious thing you could have ever said. "i need to learn by myself!"
for a second, alessia just stared at you, a tiny whirlwind of stubbornness and resolve that you were as alessia thought back to her own childhood and how she would always feel more determined after the smallest of failures.
but here you were, your knee scraped most likely still stinging and you were ready to jump back on the bike as if nothing had happened. a big swell of pride filled alessia's chest it was making it ache slightly.
"okay," your mummy said, brushing a small strand of hair out of your face, "let me just grab a bottle of water first. and if you feel tired we stop, okay?"
"ok mummy!" you chirped and already halfway to the door to put your trainers back on after your mummy had dumped them at the front door when she carried you in.
once you both got back outside the sun was lower, as it casted shadows across the grass. alessia steadying the bike once more, her hands firm but gentle on the seat.
"let's try again," this time, alessia could tell something was different. your wobbling was a little less wobbly, your pedalling was a little more confident as then all of a sudden, you didn't need your mummy's hands there to keep you steady.
"thats it! keep doing it!" your mummy cheered as she clapped loudly her voice high with excitement. your face breaking into a wide grin as you realised what was happening.
you were riding your bike. by yourself.
"im doin' it! mummy! look i can do it!" you cried with excitement as the same small giggles left your lips. alessia clapped her hands, pride radiating from every pore as she jogged beside you. tears pricking at her eyes as she blinked them away, focusing on this moment.
when you finally came to a triumphant stop, as the pavement has ran out, you hopped off the bike, throwing your arms around your mummy's leg as she scooped you up into her arms. "i did it!"
"you did it, lovie!" your mummy murmured, twirling you around with chorus of cheers and laugher, "i'm so so so proud of you!"
you grinned, resting your head on your mummy's shoulder, "you were right the plaster was magic!" you giggled out.
alessia laughed as she held you close as she shook her head, "no baby, your the magic."
in the glow of the setting sun, you rode your bike back home perfectly before leaving it triumphantly in the garage before listing off what you wanted for dinner that nigh as alessia while listening to your list realised she had just witnessed a small but extraordinary moment - your first taste of determination and victory.
#alessia russo x y/n#alessia russo#alessia russo x reader#woso x reader#woso#woso imagine#woso community#woso fanfics#woso one shot#woso blurbs#arsenal wfc#arsenal women#england women#awfc#engwnt#grumpy universe asks#grumpy universe#enwoso
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I’M JUST ONE CLICK AWAY .
summary . rafe is always available for y/n.
content * advisory . Body shaming, a little angst, but most of all fluff¡
It started off simple, only calling rafe when you needed your pipes fixed, something was too heavy, hanging up the TV, etc.
then, it got more frequent. asking him if he was ever free, or he would call you to see if you wanted to be his plus one to an event. Of course you never denied him. If anything, you loved accompanying him whenever he asked. It was sweet really, always having time to talk to each other or just simply hanging out no matter the time.
This time, it was a little different. instead, you both were getting ready together. You never knew where or how it started but, it just did. It was comforting, and relaxing.
“rafey” you spoke as you finished the finishing touches to your make up. “Yes, sweetheart?” he replied, leaning on the doorframe. “Which dress do you think i should wear? the red one or the navy blue one?” you asked, holding both dresses up. “hmmm…” he hummed, walking up to you. “I think the navy blue will look amazing on you.” “Well then, navy blue it is.” you responded, placing the red one down, smiling at rafe. “i’ll be right back!” “I'll be waiting baby.”
“Alright, how do I look?” you asked, stepping out of the bathroom. “You look sexy always baby.” Rafe replied, placing his hands on your waist. you looked up at him, placing a peck on his lips. He held your face, deepening the kiss. you pulled apart, earning a groan from him. “hey hey, don’t get so grumpy, we’re gonna be late if we don’t hurry.” you smiled, walking up to your vanity. “yeah yeah” rafe replied, clearly staring at your ass but, he couldn’t think about too much right now. you had placed to be.
Soon enough, you made it to the party he invited you to. you both walked up and got greeted by a tipsy barry, “country club, i'm glad you two could make it.” Barry spoke, slightly slurring his words. “yeah, you know i couldn’t by myself.” Rafe replied, smiling down at you. Barry stepped aside, letting the both of you step inside. it was quite honestly, you didn’t think Barry would be the type to decorate.
“I'm gonna go get a drink baby, do you want anything?” Rafe asked, holding your waist. “no rafey, im okay. thank you.” you smiled. He nodded, walking towards the bar. “y/n!” you heard someone shouting your name. as soon as you turned around one of your friends ran up to hug you. it caught you by surprise, a little overwhelmed by it, but at last you hug her back. “Hi! how are you?” you asked, walking with her towards the couch. “I’m good, thank you for asking.”
meanwhile, in the bar.
“so, how’s it goin’ with little miss y/n?” kelce asked, taking a sip of his drank. “it’s going really good actually. a lot better than i hoped.” rafe smiled, thinking of you. “aye, im glad it’s goin’ for you man. you deserve it.” Topper spoke up. “yeah man, i mean after the shit with sofia, it was well deserved.” kelce laughed. rafe didn’t like the thought of thinking about sofia. not after everything that happened with groff. Ignoring the question, rafe just takes a sip of his drink. He turned around trying to look for you, but he couldn’t find you. he’d figure you’d be with your friends like you are in the beginning of these types of events. So, he returned to talking to his friends.
“so you and rafe huh?” a girl sitting in front of you spoke. “yeah, we’re a thing, why?” you smiled, questioning why she’d said that. “it’s just, i didn’t expect him to be with someone so..” she stop mid way. “so what?” you asked, giving her a confused look. “so..big.” she finished, trying to hold in her laugh. you just stared at her, questioning why she would say that. Without saying a word, you got up and walk towards the balcony. You could hear her along with her friends laughing as you walked away. “Y/n wait!” your friend yelled after you. “dont. just let her go, she needed to hear it anyway.”
you tried not to cry, the whole time you’d looked good then, someone had to go and ruin it for you. In the process of trying to calm down, you started to feel a lump in your throat form. Causing you to feel like you can’t breathe. Rafe wasn’t there to help you so, you were scared you’d have to do it all by yourself.
you didn’t know but, rafe had already been looking for you but, he couldn’t find you. That’s when he heard his phone ring. “yeah guys hold on.” rafe stopped, and moved to a quieter spot to pick the phone. “Y/n baby, what’s going on?” rafe worried, wondering why you sounded so distressed. “rafe, i cant breathe. i-i don't know what to do and i don't know where you are.” you said, holding onto your chest. “okay baby, slow down. where are you right now?” Rafe asked, trying to search for you. “I'm at the balcony please, i c-cant breathe.” “you cried, feeling the panic attack get worse. “alright baby, stay right there. im walking towards you.” he hung up, running towards you.
“hey hey hey, it’s okay. take a deep breath, i’ll do it with you, ready?” he spoke, leaning down towards you. you nodded, following him, trying to stimulate your breathing. “you’re okay baby, shh” he held you tight, feeling his heart tear while listening to you struggle slightly. “you all better?” rafe asked, kissing your forehead. “yeah, I'm okay now.” you smiled, following up with another question, “can we go home?” you asked, getting up. “yeah of course we can.” rafe responded, placing his hand on your lower back.
as you walked towards his car you spoke up.“thank you for being there. I couldn't find you, so I called you.”
“it’s okay baby, no need to apologize. you needed my help.” rafe replied, opening the side door for you. you waited for him go hop in the driver side to continue speaking. “i know but, you were conversating with your friends. i didnt mean to-“
You were caught off guard when rafe kissed you. you slightly whimpered when he pulled apart from you. “baby, like i said you needed me when you were having a panic attack. i’d stop anything for you.” he smiled when he watched you giggle. “never forget what I told you baby.” you looked confused as he started the car, backing out the driveway.
“I’m just a click away.”
© 2024 gensideas. All Rights Reserved.
#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe fluff#angst with a happy ending#angst#drew starkey x reader#outerbanks rafe#obx season 4#fluff#drew starkey#rafe cameron#rafe obx#rafe x reader#rafe imagine#zach maclaren
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Thinking many thoughts about Miss Andarateia Cantori tonight because what do you mean we get to be in her house for the entire game, in which she and her boyfriend/partner-in-crime run a gambling den, assassin guild ANd find the time to argue with the public administration while opposing a military occupation?? who does it like her??
Joke aside, I think she's an incredibly fun character, and I'm really happy that hers was the lens through which we saw the Crows this game. Whenever I see random posts and critiques commenting that the Crows were too "sanitised" or "found-family", I want to yell a bit, because DATV never claims that to be the case!! Obviously everyone is entitled to their own opinion, but what we see is anchored in a very specific context: not just Treviso under Antaam occupation, but also the Cantori Diamond, which falls under Teia's jurisdiction.
She's an elven orphan turned Guildmaster and Talon, who desperately wanted to find family in the Crows! While the other Talons resisted her attempts at every step (some more succesfully than others ksks), that implies 1) her approach towards her own House was probably not dissimilar and 2) it got her the Talon position in her 20s. Ergo, her modus operandi was probably fairly successful.
For all that she threatens to evict anyone who treats her like a landlord (lol), the Diamond is very much a reflection of her as a character. It's all completely in line with both her general characterisation in 8 Little Talons and with the point she reaches at the end of that story when confronting Emil. I don't think it's a coincidence that out of our two POVs in 8LT, she's the one discussing Crow ideology with their would-be-murderer:
and
and
Following this particular set-up, of course orphans like Jacobus are treated kindly; of course fledglings have time to gossip in quiet corners while training; of course she helps the Dellamortes however she can?? She decided these people are family to her, and she wants to do better by them than what she got. This is wildly compelling to me personally, because she's such a delightful mix of idealism and disillusionment, honesty and manipulation, compassion and retribution - and she's so fucking obstinate about it!!!
There's also the little connection with the Crows' beginnings, specifically in Treviso. Iirc, it's mentioned in 8LT that her base is Rialto (she's also got gardens there), so a part of me wonders whether the Diamond was an inherited property from a previous Cantori Talon, or whether she got it up and running between then and the events of the game. I think that between that little tibdbit and with Lucanis being named First Talon at the end of the game, it's pretty obvious that the theme of rebirth is very much the point in the Crows' plotline - a messy, hopeful and spiteful rebirth.
All of this is to say, what we get doesn't at all negate the other aspects we've seen from the Crows in previous games, but rather puts them into perspective. The game just goes on to ask - isn't there another way to do this? what else is there room for us to be? is there any chance we might find some kindness in this world? and one of the ways these answers are explored is through Teia's character (we start this series with Zevran's story within the Antivan Crows - an elven orphan bought from a brothel, who doesn't have the power to change this guild, and end with Lucanis, Viago and Teia, who is, specifically, an elven orphan picked up (?) from the streets, who remains one of the powerhouses of the organisation. I love a bit of narrative symmetry ✨)
And honestly, I find this entire thing delightful - it's cheeky and dramatic and a lot of fun, and it makes sense for these characters, if you only sit with it for a second and give it a bit of thought!
(PS the way she draws Viago into her orbit and the way their partnership works is another rant entirely, and they drive me absolutely insane nghhh)
#dragon age#dragon age the veilguard#veilguard positive#da#datv#tevinter nights#eight little talons#andarateia cantori#viago de riva#i mean he gets mentioned but this post is about teia#.ioana rambles#i love the crows i love renaissance history in italy and france and i love this silly game#morality is the least interesting aspect of something fictional for me#i want to be entertained AND to have my brain whirring at what's going on#and teia very much does that for me!!!#i love her#also this goes under#otp: gentle pursuits#teia x viago#teiago#yes one of my WIPs is teia growing up with the crows i think about her a normal amount
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The recent chapter of Blue Lock with Ness really reminds me of when Bachira first came to the realization that he was being left behind by Isagi, and that if he didn't find a new way to become useful soon than their whole rivalry would just come to an end because there'd be no point in "competing" with someone who's so clearly better than you.
Back then, Isagi had left Bachira for Rin, and now we see the dynamic from an entirely new relationship. Kaiser has "left" Ness behind for Isagi.
Though I think we will see things play out very differently than before. Instead of Ness evolving on his own, I feel like he will just be left behind here instead of proving himself to be useful. Or he will make a mistake and cost everyone the game somehow.
In my honest opinion, I think Ness' issue isn't that he lacks an ego but rather that he lacks motivation outside of Kaiser. He doesn't actually know what he would do if he didn't have Kaiser with him, he can't really picture himself making plays if Kaiser's not there. In a way, I think Ness only feels his own ego when he is with Kaiser.
Kaiser is his drive and motivation and in a way, Kaiser is Ness' "ego". He's the reason Ness feels confident in his ability to play, he has no real reason to play soccer if he can't play soccer with Kaiser.
We've all wondered who was going to initiate this break up first, I just didn't think it'd be Kaiser who would cut these strings off T_T It stands to reason then that the thing that Ness would need to grow isn't to be so unhealthily attached to someone else.
I've long since theorized that Ness' character arc is tied to the whole "scientific method" and science motif of his backstory, I've always thought it'd be cool if he adopted the abusive, clinical science nature of his household in his own way of playing soccer. And I think it'd be good for him because the person he admires the most did the same thing in a way.
Kaiser turned the blue rose from a constant reminder of his terrible childhood into a sign that he could make the impossible, possible. And in this very same match, we can see that the rose has been replaced with the actual crown on his hand instead, it's still an egotistical symbol but it's still a reference to his own past in a way.
During the scientific method, you have to "fail" first before you can succeed. And it's normal to have many wrong theories before you come to the right conclusion. So, I think Ness has to "fail" a lot before he succeeds here.
I also just think it'd be more interesting that way because if we get the cookie cutter "I'm going to suddenly find my own ego here and now!" thing that we've gotten for every other side character, I think it'd cheapen Ness' potential. The match has dragged on really long too so I think next chapter, we will either get Ness "failing" again and coming to the realization that he can't be so dependent on others anymore, or Ness will suddenly "gain an ego!" and it'll just be a repeat of past arcs (which I'm hoping isn't the case T_T)
#bllk#blue lock spoiler#blue lock manga spoilers#bllk manga spoilers#ness alexis#isagi yoichi#micheal kaiser#kainess#kaisagi#its been a while since I've made a bllk meta#bllk meta
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WIP excerpt behind the cut; "the one where Kon's soulmark is fake". I remembered that, like, SEVERAL of my older WIPs are just a hot mess at the starts of their tags and also realized that I had posted like, very little coherently-connected parts of specifically this one's beginning, for some reason? Despite the fact that I love hurting and being hurt?? Somehow???? TERRIBLE oversight on my part, gang, sorry, here y'all go, enjoyyyyy~ 💙 (( chrono || non-chrono ))
Kon is sort of fucked-up in a lot of ways, but he didn't deliberately get the tattoo. Like–he's not that fucked-up. Hell, even Black Zero wasn't that fucked-up.
Black Zero's Westfield didn't even give him the tattoo, actually, so maybe that's part of why they had a better relationship than Kon did with his version of the guy. Kon would also have hated the asshole a lot less if not for the tattoo, probably.
But his Westfield had made damn sure to give it to him.
Kon doesn't remember much before he got broken out of the cloning tube, but he does remember getting the tattoo. It'd taken a really long time, and it'd been the first time he'd ever felt pain. So like, it'd made an impression.
He hadn't even known what it was for, then. Hadn't even known what it was supposed to be. A brand? A method of identification? Some kind of weird serial number analogue?
Not so much, it'd turned out.
Superman's soulmark is a gorgeous Kryptonian sunrise spread out across his chest, bold and bright and beautiful. It looks like the rising truth and the clarity of a new beginning and the very literal physical manifestation of hope.
And Kon's tattoo looks exactly like it.
Except for the part where it's obviously just a tattoo, of course.
Tattoos don't pass for soulmarks, after all, which is the only reason Kon has the damn thing to begin with. Westfield hadn't wanted him to make the mistake of thinking that he was a real person, or to make the mistake of thinking that anyone was ever going to give a fuck about him as the person that he was. He was a clone, an experiment, a weapon, a thing. He didn't have a soul or a soulmate. Didn't have a mark.
He got over that. Like, it sucks? It really sucks. And he still hates it. But he'd gotten over it.
Or he'd thought he had, until he'd found out who Superman's soulmate was.
"What?" Kon says, staring blankly.
"Dad's my soulmate," Jon repeats, pointing at the Kryptonian sunrise spread out across his chest, brightly illuminated by the noontime sun as they stand on the dock at the edge of a little pond on the outskirts of Smallville. "Why, who's yours? Or don't you know yet? Like, has it not come in?"
"Clones don't get soulmarks," Kon says, wanting very, very badly to just throw up and die.
"Huh?" Jon says, looking actually surprised. Kon continues to want to throw up and die. Or maybe bury himself in magma in the center of the planet and stay there 'til he suffocates. "But I thought everybody got soulmarks!"
"Naw," Kon says instead of fuck you, because the kid's ten and doesn't deserve that.
"Why not?" Jon asks, because again, he's ten. Ten and apparently as emotionally intelligent as a pudding cup, but whatever. Not like Kon's never had this conversation before.
Never with Clark's kid who is apparently so much his kid as to be his literal fucking soulmate, which no one ever thought to mention to the stupid shitty clone in the past like four months since Clark had finally admitted to the secret identity that Kon had long since figured out thanks to Hypertime bullshit, but whatever. He only even officially met Jon a couple months ago.
Probably they all figured it just wasn't his business, he guesses.
Which–it's not, really. It's not his business. It never has been.
It's not.
"I mean, I'm sentient or whatever, but I'm manufactured," Kon tells the kid with a shrug. "Therefore no soul, therefore no soulmate, therefore no soulmark. That's all."
"You don't have a soul?" Jon asks in bewilderment.
"Naw," Kon says again, with another shrug. "So like, we gonna swim or what?"
"Oh, uh, yeah," Jon says, still looking bewildered.
So they swim.
Kon, obviously, doesn't take his shirt off for it.
Jon, mercifully, doesn't ask why.
It's fun, aside from being the worst afternoon of Kon's life. They fuck around for a couple hours, then fly back to the farm after and mostly dry off on the way, and Clark comes out to meet–well, not them, obviously, but Jon. Jon lights up at the sight of him and throws himself straight into his arms like he's never once had to question whether or not Clark would ever want him there, and Clark smiles down at him like he's the most important person in the world.
Kon should just count himself lucky that Clark trusts him enough to leave him alone with his kid for more than thirty seconds and be grateful.
What Kon actually is, of course, is jealous and angry and fucking heartbroken.
Jon is ten. Kon was manufactured two years ago. Clark had a real kid long before Kon was even a theoretical spark in a scientist's eye.
And Jon had Clark the whole time Superboy was just desperately hoping that Superman would decide he was worth his attention. Worth the "S". Worth . . .
When Clark had offered him a name from his family–specifically a name from an adopted member of his family–Kon had been . . . stupid, a little, and thought that it might've been, like . . . another step. Like he'd hoped that Superman even letting his weird stupid clone wear the "S" to begin with might've been.
He hadn't been a complete idiot or anything. He'd known Clark would never, like–want to keep him around or have him too close or anything. He'd just thought that maybe he'd . . . that someday he might've . . .
Kon isn't a real person. Like–obviously he's not. It isn't subtle. Hell, he'd have known it even if Westfield hadn't bothered tattooing him with a copy of Clark's mark. And really, he guesses he should be grateful Westfield didn't tattoo his own soulmark on him, whatever it was.
Just, like, of course he's not Clark's . . . family, or whatever. Of course he's just like that one weird kid from down the street that somebody occasionally invites over out of pity who only learns the family secrets by accident or through osmosis and isn't actually kept in the loop or anything. Kon knows that.
But watching Jon beam up at his dad and Clark smile down at his son is still making him want to curl up and die right here and now.
Kon does kind of wonder what it's like to be, like . . . loved, or whatever.
Everybody always makes it sound really nice.
"Dinner's about ready," Clark says. "You two mind setting the table?"
"Sorry, I gotta get going," Kon says instead of admitting he has no idea how to set a fucking table, especially not to whatever Martha Kent's standards are. Cadmus did not actually see fit to educate him on typical household chores and he has very rarely ever sat down at any semblance of a normal family dinner. Like, in Hawaii they all just ate wherever and not even all together half the time, and Cadmus has a cafeteria, and Young Justice just dumps a pile of junk food or takeout on the nearest unoccupied surface and they all just go to town on it like the weird gaggle of semi-superpowered and usually-ravenous teenagers that they are.
He could look it up on his phone, and he probably will later, but there's no way he's gonna run the risk of getting caught looking it up on his phone. Like–no. Never, thanks. Miss him with that particular little bit of "further proof of being a fake person" humiliation.
So it's . . . whatever, he guesses.
"Well, that's alright, we'll just have to catch you another time," Clark says with a polite smile that looks nothing like the one he was just wearing for Jon, and doesn't even fake like he's disappointed or like he's gonna miss him. Because like . . . why would he, after all?
Kon misses him all the time, but Kon's the pathetic counterfeit of a person with a copy of said person's soulmark tattooed on him.
"Yeah, sure," Kon says, thinking longingly of suffocating in the center of the planet.
Sometimes he thinks about what's gonna happen when he finally gets his dumb ass killed and whoever, like, autopsies or embalms him or whatever sees the tattoo. Thinks about what they're gonna think, if they . . .
Superman's soulmark isn't a secret or anything. Clark's gotten smashed around too often for the suit to have kept it covered all this time. So like, if someone ever saw the tattoo on Kon's chest and didn't know that Cadmus put it there . . .
Like . . . well. The natural assumption would be that Kon got it on purpose, obviously. That Kon was actually, like, that fucking pathetic and disturbed of a person.
He never wants anyone to see it. Never wants anyone to know. Never . . . just never. None of it. Ever.
And Clark will never smile at him like he smiles at Jon, so maybe Clark will just never know about the tattoo either. Maybe that's a thing that Kon can manage.
He's managed it so far, at least.
Kon goes back to Cadmus and buries himself in his eternally unmade bed in his cramped little disaster of a room and desperately tries to not be the absolute fucking freak that he is.
He definitely fails at not being the absolute fucking freak that he is.
He cries about it for a little bit, like that's something he even has the fucking right to do, and tries so fucking hard to forget how Jon's very real soulmark had looked when he'd stripped his shirt off and bared it so unselfconsciously. Not even deliberately or proudly–just as a simple, inalienable fact. A thing that he knew. A thing he just had.
Although Kon wouldn't even care about the stupid goddamn mark, if Clark would ever look at him even a little bit like the way he looks at Jon.
He tries not to think about the way Clark would actually look at him, if he ever found out that Cadmus had tattooed his fucking kid's mark on him.
Kon's never let himself think too much about Clark's mark, on account of not wanting to torment himself that bad. He'd just vaguely assumed that it was Lois at some point and then just shoved said assumption in a box and drowned it in concrete and made sure to never, ever take his shirt off in front of anyone else or any possible cameras or spy equipment or anything similar. Ever.
He should've known it wasn't Lois. It's a Kryptonian sunrise. Why would it be Lois?
If it were Lois, though, Kon wouldn't care this much. If it were Lois, it'd be a romantic mark, and Lois is straight-up gorgeous and a total fucking badass, yeah, but Kon doesn't, like, want her or anything. There's nothing to be jealous of there.
So of course it's not Lois. Of course it's not romantic.
It's Jon, and on top of that it's a mark that only actual Kryptonians would ever share.
It's Clark's real kid. The one he had long before Kon was even a single strand of stolen DNA or a cell in a cloning tube or even a scribbled theoretical on a whiteboard or in somebody's notes.
The one he actually wants.
Not for the first time, Kon wishes that prick Westfield weren't too dead to punch.
And while he's wishing for completely impossible shit that’s never gonna happen, he wishes he could've been able to stay in Smallville for that stupid dinner without fucking embarrassing himself, too.
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Inquisition Replay Rambles #1
I'm replaying Inquisition and I want to ramble about it a bit. This is going to be a bit of analysis about his first conversation with Lavellan. This will be of course only my opinion, I think part of the appeal of Solas is there are so many facets to him that there's a lot that could be said depending on what speaks to you personally.
This will only be through the lens of Inquisition. I am not interested in discussing through VGs lens. Due to continuity, I will be referring to the Inquisitor as the Herald/prisoner/Lavellan depending on which is relevant.
But also I don't care, I just really want talk about Solas and make you look at screenshots so here we go.
It's very important to me to state how early in game this is. You potentially haven't even left Haven yet and I think that sheds some light on what exactly Solas' purpose is with this conversation. This unlocks after the Inquisition is reborn officially. In the game Solas is nowhere to be found during this scene but in universe Solas probably watched the Herald's first walk up to the Chantry after waking up.
Mere days ago a prisoner was dragged through Haven in chains. While we do not know exactly what happened between first appearing in front of the ruined Temple and waking in chains, it would not surprise me if Solas had pleaded for the prisoner's life. Not out of any affection but out of desperation. His Focus is still missing and whatever hope he has to regain it is the magic in the prisoner's hand.
He had talked with her on the march up the the Temple of Sacred ashes but she was still the Prisoner then; now the Herald of Andraste walks up to him.
He's testing the Herald.
Solas is gambling. He's desperately trying to predict where the dice will fall. He cannot retrieve the Mark or he would've already. What will she do with this power? Not only the ability to close the Rifts and Breach but also the sheer belief that is being placed on her. If she is capable enough he only knows that will grow.
He is in a very precarious situation. He is everything the Chantry despises and he is painfully aware of it. Still weak from waking from Uthenara just earlier that year. So to test her he offers her pieces of himself, who he is at his core - an Elven Apostate who seeks out the company of spirits - and waits to see what she says.
He is risking so much by these admissions. Templars wield the brand for lesser "crimes" than being an odd apostate. Elves are seen as spiritually and legally lesser, the Chantry declaring their souls further from the Maker. Spirit Healers face greater suspicion from Templars, terrified that they'll turn abomination due to their proximity to spirits. Dreamers are considered generally extinct (with Feynriel being stated to be the first in two centuries) but we can assume that a Templar would be even more terrified of one.
His dialogue then splits into two paths.
Lavellan can choose to either answer his question directly or instead question further on those intriguing thoughts he brought up. While personally I generally ask about him I do think there is merit in looking at the other options. Screenshot from Daitranscripts.
With a single question he has a better understanding of the Herald. Of her foundations. While she may change as her power grows it gives him the starting block to try and analyze her. But Lavellan can turn this around, she can learn from him instead.
I have to give massive amounts of credit to GDL here because Solas' voice changes subtly when you ask him about his studies. Up until this point, Solas has talked a bit stiffly in those first few lines. As I said he is testing the Herald and there's this firmness underlying it as he refuses to reveal his hand. That drops from Solas' voice when he begins to talk about the Fade and his dreams.
This Solas is a bit freer, it crescendos if Lavellan compliments his skill. I sincerely doubt Solas had any idea that anyone would show a genuine interest in his cavorting with what the world would see as Demons and it shatters his previous pretense. This is unscripted and for a moment Solas glimmers through.
He even smiles. it's faint but the corners of his lips turn up.
This is a surprise but a pleasant one. Genuine appreciation was far beyond anything I think Solas could prepare for when he started this line of conversation. For a few moments they're just two people, sharing a pleasant discussion about his interests. What he learns of Lavellan is worthy of respect, albeit still tempered by his caution.
While I realize it is a game limitation - why record three versions of one line when one will do - there is something jolting about how his face sobers in the next line. That moment is gone, he can't let himself get too carried away. He stares off into the distance somewhere past Lavellan and his expression straightens. That sternness is back.
I will stay then, at least until the Breach has been closed.
He's back to subtly pushing the Herald, to see their reactions.
Was that in doubt? I am an apostate mage surrounded by Chantry forces and unlike you, I do not have a divine mark protecting me./I am an apostate surrounded by Chantry forces in the middle of a mage rebellion.
There are a few layers of subterfuge here but I want to reiterate that he is taking a massive risk admitting this. In the middle of a conversation where he just confesses to being everything the Chantry hates he adds that he's been waiting to see if he should even stay and help. The Herald has the ear of the Former hands of the Divine and the former Templar who is the Inquisition's Commander while you can't in game for plot reasons there's no reason to believe that this couldn't go badly fast depending on Lavellan's possible bias.
Another piece of subterfuge that while he makes it sound like he had this revelation during this conversation, I actually think it happened earlier at the first Rift the Prisoner closed. He cannot leave the Inquisition until they discover what happened with his orb. He admits to willingly locking himself in a cage in one the disapproval scenes and in the other he refuses to leave even though the Inquisitor may have slaughtered an entire temple of Elvhen. Even punching him does not have him leave like it does with Dorian. He will endure abuse both physically and verbally for a chance to retrieve what is his.
Screenshots from Daitranscripts, second is from here.
Solas is a trickster and like a trickster he is pulling the rug out from underneath the Herald to see how she lands. He wants to prod and push and see if she snaps at his indiscretions. Is the Herald sympathetic or has Chantry dogma gotten them as well? And even the Dalish are suspicious of spirits. For an elven mage Herald he could be seeing if she'd be willing to sell out one of their own at a chance for survival.
While this is clearly Solavellan centric I do think it is worth looking at the non romantic options. Screenshot from Daitranscripts.
Once again by taking that risk, by putting himself in an unfavourable situation, he learns more about the Herald. He has another piece to the puzzle whether she's dismissive of his plight (and by extension of those of mages) or if she's sympathetic. He can also get a view of how she sees problems, whether she pushes them out of the way to deal with later or if she even thinks she has power to stop others.
So obviously you and I are here for the Solavellan so let's talk about it.
I adore that the romance choice is not "I'll protect you" but rather "You can trust me". Solas does not trust people, he is not a misanthrope by any means (so many of his motivations come out of his love for people) but he is constantly waiting for the knife in his back. He has been betrayed badly and I think that is a large motivation to his conversation here. He wants to know what problems could occur so he can be prepared for what he sees as the inevitable fall.
When Lavellan offers this, offers protection, he immediately tries to tear it down.
How would you stop them?
His voice drops, there's a gravely timber to it. He is demanding to know how. Not to know what her plan is but because I don't think he thought she had one. Solas probably took her offer as an empty platitude, one he could easily toss aside. Solas does not want to trust others and Lavellan offering a hand comes across as a threat regardless of her intentions. It would be worse if she was genuine and only later decided to betray him.
Now I cannot sit here and state Lavellan's meaning. There are as many answers to that question as there are Lavellans. Each one of my own Lavellan comes to a different conclusion. Whether because they may both be elven (?apostates) in an Andrastrian organization, whether Lavellan is genuinely interested in him/his friendship. It may be to return a favour she believes she owes him, he saved her life as well in the intro. Instead I'm going to shift to Solas' perspective.
He was either expecting nothing or for her to backtrack. Instead she looks at him with such determination and declares she would do whatever it would take.
This whole conversation was him trying to unsettle the Herald, to try and push them into a response so he can categorize them. Instead the rug is pulled out from under his feet. He freezes for a split second before thanking them, his voice is gentle and tender. That's all he can do. Whatever he was expecting by starting this gamble it wasn't this.
There's this gentle ebb and flow underlying this entire conversation. He pushes and she pulls, each of them taking turns leading and surprising the other. You can hear in Solas' voice when he has the conversation scripted, each word hand crafted for Lavellan to bounce her ideals from, but you can hear when she reaches beyond his expectations. When she hears underneath his stoic veneer and sees a man she genuinely wishes to know better.
I know a lot of people - myself included - see this as the moment when Solas falls for Lavellan. in part due to the fact that he is so touch and affection starved but I also think it has to do with this game he set up for her. He tested her - as if a shadowy figure in a fairy tale - and she turned it around on him. Subterfuge is his expertise and she flips everything upside-down by being so genuine with him that he cannot help but believe it.
And what i truly believe convinces Solas of this is that she isn't aware that she's doing it. She slips through his defenses for a second because of this. She had no ulterior motives in declaring that she'd keep him safe and he cannot help but for a moment trust her.
That is the foundation of their relationship. That for a few moments they can pretend to be who they really are and just love each other for that alone.
#solavellan#solas analysis#solavellan analysis#this is of course how I see him#i genuinely believe you could look at this scene from so many angels but this is just what i came up with after watching 5 times
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this tree from my new drawing looking goated afffffff 👑👑
#yes this is a nel/vas drawing get off me😂#text#i wanted everyone to see it but also since i draw on paper in total silence i think a lot about everything so i wanted to voice some -#- thoughts too's. tbh i've been veeery self indulgent lately#actually i'm happy that n*lv*s is getting actual hits out of me that i like looking at#especially on-paper stuff that i can recall being fun for me to draw. all traditional art is fun to draw#and digital has turned into an actual task for me (only sometimes tho maybe i;m lying.. mspaint we're still bffs)#i think i just don't see the joy in trying to scrap up a ''' finished ''' piece in an art program .. pencil i love you and i love the -#- feeling of it scratching along the paper....sigh............ Rabu#i don't want my blog or thoughts to turn into traditional art suck-off ventures bc ik not everyone can get into it for many possible -#- reasons but if u feel like it U can ok? do it for Pencil✏️ and for me? for silusvesuius? 𝖎 𝖜𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖙𝖊𝖈𝖙 𝖞𝖔𝖚#but Lord i hope i don't also come off as one of those people that r like 'to improve in art just draw that one fictional character u -#- rly like 😂😂' bruh gtfo my face with that.#i'm noticing 'improvement' in my stuff mainly...i think... because i'm always striving to impress#not so much other people that are here just for my art but more so myself#i have a very huge ego (Mind Battle)#also it makes me sad to think about how big egos or genuine (not obnoxious) flauntiness are looked down on#and i can tell bc i used to look down on people that would express the things i'm expressing now#especially in art focused spaces. now i'd rather be in a circle of artists that love to J*rk off their own brain for it's ideas -#-and talent than be w/ very self-conscious artists that are never expressing pride about any of their work#worse if it's to the point where they actively start to fish for compliments bc of it#fishing for compliments is always OK i just wish it didn't stem from insecurity in that context if that makes sense#but maybe that's very easy for me to say and admit bc i did develop a very big ego around my art and ... Creativity? like it's a sims skill#not that i still don't seek out 'attention' or compliments from others to soothe myself but hmmmmmm i hope u feel me.#it just turns me into a very competitive person#who am i competing with? Myself#i'm always in 'you can do better Because you're YOU' mode#which is much better i believe than comparing yourself 2 other artists#i don't think a lot of people read my tag ramblings but if u do i wonder how one feels about a very pompous artist#like me .......(?)
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I have a feeling Johnny would try and set up Simon with one of his friends
like
“M’ tellin ya mate yer going tae like ‘er,” Johnny teased, bounding a couple steps in front of Simon, turning back to him and rocking back and forth on his heels, hands shoved into his pockets to protect them from the cold. As Price often quipped, the 'scott can't stand still for the life of him.'
“Mhm,” Simon just grumbled in response.
“See mate, That’s the attitude that scares all the girls away.” Johnny commented, hands outstretched and exaggerated.
“Whatever.” Simon huffed, shaking his head. Johnny wasn’t wrong, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d done anything with a girl that wasn’t a quick lay, and even then it had been months, not to mention going out on a proper date. Well, a date was a stretch, you were Johnny’s close friend for a couple years. He had heard of you, but never met you and now Johnny was insisting that he go on a date with you because he was convinced it was going to work well, Simon wasn’t convinced in the slightest.
“She’s real nice though- so put away the tough guy act big man- girls don’t like that.” Simon couldn’t believe he was getting dating advice from his sergeant, so he just doubled down and kept scowling but Johnny kept pressing. “I'm telling you she's a real sweet girl, kinda lass who would try tae make a crying baby laugh on the tube or go and feed some mangy stray dog, perfect for a prickly bastard like yerself.”
“Okay okay, Jesus. ’s not like ’m going to scare ‘er off on purpose.” Simon relented
“You better not, gettin' laid might do ya' some good man, calm yer ass down a wee bit” Johnny chuckled
Simon would have yelled at him for that comment but his friend cut him off, “‘Kay we’re ‘ere,” Johnny chirped, “Gaz and his girl should be inside already and she’ll be ‘ere soon,” Johnny said, pushing his Lt. through the pub door.
Johnny had invited Kyle and his girlfriend for a kind of double date situation because he thought having another girl there would help you feel more comfortable, something Simon couldn’t argue with. Why Johnny’s single ass would be attending was a mystery.
and he's been playing both sides
“Ya like serious guys right?” Johnny had asked you out of the blue, a week or so prior while hanging out at your flat.
“Uh yeah sure? I mean I guess so, more than immature assholes like you.” You had joked back across the small kitchen.
“Well,” He had began, unphased by your teasing, “There’s this guy I work with-”
“Don’t even.” you cut him off
“Wha'?!” he whined
“Don’t try and set me up with one of your military bros,” you warned, “I’m not interested.”
“Jus' 'cause yer last dates 'ave been busts doesnae mean you shouldn't keep tryin’,” He pleaded, catching the sponge you threw at him, “He’s a real good guy, kinda intimidating but you’d like him, promise!”
You glared at him before going back and forth, Johnny was really trying to sell this guy, and he wasn’t wrong, your last three dates had been nothing short of disasters. So, after lots of pleading -and a couple tasteful photos from them at the gym- you agreed. So as you walked closer and closer to the pub, your nerves were buzzing. Just gotta get past his tough exterior is all, Johnny’s words of advice rang through your head. Thankfully he had invited another one of his friends there along with his girlfriend, you would have been hyperventilating if it was just going to be you and some guys. As you reached for the door, you could only hope Johnny was right about this guy.
So, who would be surprised when it actually works out, when Simon actually falls in love with you and your sweet smile at first site. When you find his corny and sometimes morbid jokes genuinely funny, having to cough around your drink to prevent spitting it out.
Johnny's just happy Simon might finally chill out, and he won't have to listen to you complain about failed dates every other week.
#He's a little bastard but he means well#I know bro was sweating and praying for it to go well too#simon ghost x reader#simon#simon riley fluff#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley headcanons#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#soap#ghost cod#ghost#ghost x y/n#ghost x you#ghost x oc#ghost x reader#tf 141 headcanons#tf 141 x reader#tf 141 x you#task force 141#cod mw3#cod modern warfare#cod x you#cod x reader#cod x y/n#cod x oc#cod mw2#john price#kyle gaz garrick
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the alpha next door
pairing: alpha!steve rogers x omega!female reader
summary: you and your neighbor are harboring feelings for each other, but both of you think the other is too sweet. then, things take a turn when your first heat since moving in hits, revealing the depth of your feelings for the alpha next door—and his for you.
warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), omegaverse AU tropes (heats, knots, purring, mating, scenting), piv sex, breeding kink/pregnancy kink (reader's on birth control tho), accidental voyeurism, masturbation (m + f), dirty talk, praise kink, daddy kink, little bit of mommy kink, size kink, pet names (baby), mutual pining, idiots in love, dual pov
word count: 8.9k
a/n: here's my entry for @stargazingfangirl18 and @labella420's Cum Together Extravaganza!!! i used the A/B/O AU and breeding kink prompts—and this is my very first omegaverse fic!!! so uhhh please be kind because i don't know what i'm doing 😅 also loosely inspired by "too sweet" by hozier!! anyway, this ended up a lot longer than i thought it would be....whoops!! hope y'all enjoy!!!
When you first moved into the little pink cottage next door, Steve Rogers decided that you were too sweet for an ex-soldier alpha like him. An omega like you was filled with sunshine and gentleness, and you deserved an alpha who would treat you like the precious thing you were.
The kindest thing Steve could do for you was stay away. The thoughts you inspired in his alpha hindbrain had him hating the rough and greedy animal side of himself. He wanted to dig his fingers into your plush hips and bend you over, make you present your pretty little body in the way the alpha in him craved.
But he reminded himself you were too sweet. Too sweet for the obscene thoughts that plagued his mind. Too sweet to be defiled by a big alpha like him. Too sweet to be swollen and round and glowing because you were carrying his child…
Still, you were his neighbor and Steve couldn’t avoid you entirely, even though everything he saw only reaffirmed his belief that you were too good for him.
The little pink cottage beside his house had come with a front garden filled with pink roses and all manner of other pink flowers that Steve couldn’t even begin to name, but you tended to them like you’d planted them yourself. Steve would get home from work, park his truck in his driveway—which had a perfect view of your front garden. He’d watch you from behind his tinted windows as you took care of your flowers, looking like a garden fairy come to life.
When Steve eventually grew uncomfortable with how long he’d been watching you, he would get out of his truck and call a gruff hello to you as he made his way inside. Your melodic voice returning his greeting would follow him into his house, where he’d close his door and lean against it, panting like he’d just escaped a warzone while his cock strained against his jeans. But Steve wouldn’t stoop to jerking himself off to the thought of you—at least not while you were just outside.
On weekends, Steve would work in his backyard, mowing the grass and tending to the shrubs that ran along the line separating his property from yours. When the weather was nice and pleasantly warm, you would sit out on your small back porch, curled up in a wicker chair reading some book or another.
Steve would offer to mow your lawn, just for an excuse to stay outside longer, and be a little bit closer to you. You’d let him, and thank him for his efforts by giving him some ice cold lemonade, smiling up at him while he drank it. Steve wasn’t the least bit surprised the lemonade was more sweet than tart.
As the weeks and months passed since you’d moved in, Steve couldn’t help but feel his desire for you growing, becoming a living thing curling around his heart, making it beat for you. You were the sweetest and prettiest omega he’d ever met, and he’d be lucky to be your alpha, but he kept his distance, certain you could do better than him.
That is, until your first heat after moving in next door changed everything.
That was when Steve learned you were far more than the innocent little omega he’d determined you to be—you were a creature of sex and desire, made to take an alpha’s knot and be pumped full of come in the hopes that their seed would take root in your womb. When your heat hit fully, your keening wails echoed from your cottage, and they were a siren song that called directly to Steve’s alpha heart.
But he kept himself away. After all, there were polite ways of going about these things, and he’d never even asked you out on a date, so he certainly wasn’t going to assume you wanted his help to get you through your heat. Besides, you hadn’t asked for him to join you, anyway.
That didn’t stop Steve from keeping an eye on you, though.
He’d noticed the slight change in your scent a few days before your heat truly set in, his cock reacting even more to your perfect omega body than normal. Steve felt like he was walking around with a constant bulge in his pants after getting a single whiff of your scent, but he ignored the niggling feeling telling him he needed to be close to you and did his best to hide his reaction. He knew you had other things to worry about than the comfort of the alpha next door.
Even though something in him compelled him to go to you, Steve couldn’t bring himself to walk over to your cottage. It occurred to him that even if you didn’t want him to help you through your heat, he could offer to go to the store to get the food and provisions you’d need. But he didn’t. He was worried about what he’d do if he looked into your home and saw your nest and smelled your sweet perfume.
So Steve kept his distance, watching you from his truck and the windows of his house as you brought home a week’s worth of provisions—protein bars and sports drinks that would keep you nourished enough to make it through your heat. Steve wished he could carry the heavy-looking bags into your home, but his cock was pitching a tent in his sweatpants, and he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable with the way his alpha body reacted to your omega scent.
Finally, as your heat drew closer, you locked up your cottage, closing all the windows and drawing all the curtains. Steve couldn’t help but notice, though, that you left the skylight in your bedroom cracked open a tiny bit. Steve’s alpha hindbrain itched at the thought that you’d only left it open because you couldn’t close it yourself, and he had to hold himself back from going over to your cottage to offer to close it.
Steve knew omegas liked to keep their nests dark and warm and locked up tight. They wanted to keep all the scents created during a heat trapped in their nest, at least until their heat broke. So it was curious that you’d left the skylight open, even a little bit.
But when your heat hit in earnest that evening, your pitiful whimpers and desperate moans filtering through the open window and directly to Steve’s ears—through the window of his bedroom that he’d thrown open the moment he’d heard you—he forgot about what omegas typically wanted. Instead, all the blood in his body rushed to his cock, making him harder than he’d ever been in his life.
Steve stood at the window of his bedroom, which overlooked your cottage, his eyes glazing over as he listened to you pant and whine and cry out for an alpha that wasn’t coming. Because of course Steve had noticed that no alpha had arrived to help you through your heat. He assumed you were using any number of the toys that were sold precisely to help unmated omegas get through their heats without an alpha’s help.
But it meant you were alone, in your nest, riding out your heat on some silicone knot. That thought nearly made Steve storm from his house and barge into your cottage to demand you let him help you, but he reminded himself you were too sweet, too sweet, too sweet for him. So instead, he fisted his cock and listened to your raspy pleas fill the night sky.
“Need your knot, alpha, oh god, please,” you babbled, your voice beautifully melodic to Steve even when you were desperately begging for something he knew he shouldn’t give you. “Fill me up, daddy, I need it—need your knot, alpha—daddy, daddy, alpha, please, please, please!” Your moans grew louder and Steve could only imagine the thick silicone knot that was filling you up the way he should be filling you.
One of Steve’s hands gripped the frame of his window tightly, using the feel of the wood digging into his palm to keep himself grounded as he physically fought with his alpha instincts. He wanted to break into your cottage and rip your toys away from you so he could help you through your heat. Like he was meant to. It should be him inside you, sinking into your warm, welcoming cunt while you looked up at him with those beautiful eyes of yours.
Steve’s other hand gripped his cock, pumping his hard, stiff length with a fist so tight, it was nearly punishing. It helped a little, but his fist was a far cry from your perfect cunt, which would be gushing with wetness and so hot, Steve would feel like he was sinking into heaven and hell at the same time. And when he came, it wouldn’t be anywhere near as satisfying as emptying his balls right against your cervix, pumping your womb full of his seed while knot locked your bodies together so it would be almost certain he’d knock you up.
That is, if you weren’t on birth control. Which most unmated omegas were, Steve reminded himself.
Still, the alpha in him was a beast barely caged—he wanted to breed you.
Steve wanted to see you impaled on his cock and his knot, so bloated from how full you were with his come that he could see it in the way your belly bulged, giving a preview of what you’d look like growing with his child. He wanted to knock you up, he wanted to see you swollen and round with his pup.
He wanted to keep fucking you even as you carried his child, watching you bounce on his knot, your tits swollen with milk and your belly big and round while he tried to fill your womb with another before you’d even popped out the first. Steve wanted to keep you pregnant all the time, your pretty little omega body always ripe and swollen with his pups, taking his knot and his come every moment of the day so he could make sure you were always glowing with the radiance of motherhood.
It was that image of you—beautiful and knocked up, your eyes hazy with pleasure that came only from being impaled on his cock, and being locked on his knot—that made Steve come.
He grunted as the pleasure of his fist and his thoughts of you finally became too much, wrapping both his hands around his thick length, one squeezing his knot while the other pumped the rest of his shaft. His come erupted from the tip, streaming over the windowsill and dripping down to his bare feet on the wooden floor of his bedroom.
A growl tore from Steve’s lips while he came, a deep, dark part of his alpha hindbrain responding furiously to the fact that he was wasting his seed. He should be emptying his balls deep in your fertile cunt while your slick walls gripped his knot and milked every drop of his seed into your womb, where it belonged.
Steve’s release seemed to last for ages, longer than he’d ever experienced before, and if it wasn’t for the fact that his head finally started to clear when it abated, he would’ve been worried he’d gone into rut. But finally, Steve surfaced from the depths of his pleasure, and winced when he remembered the thoughts that had made him come.
Steve was appalled by the direction in which his imagination had gone, and felt guilty for imagining you in such a state as pregnant and bouncing on his cock—even as the reminder made his cock leak one last spurt of his release. Cursing and castigating himself, Steve moved away from the window to clean himself up and wipe down the spot where he’d been standing.
The entire time he was cleaning up after himself, Steve felt off-balance. He’d never felt such a pull toward an omega before you, and he’d never been so close to going into rut just from listening to an omega whimper and moan. If he didn’t know better, he would think you were his mate—the one omega in the whole world who was perfect for him.
But Steve pushed that thought aside and reminded himself you were too sweet for an alpha like him. You might’ve sounded desperate and needy while you suffered through your heat alone, but you deserved better than an alpha who could think of nothing else besides pumping you full of come and knocking you up with his child.
Steve felt disturbed all over again when he thought of the vivid, obscene things he’d imagined while he’d jerked himself off. He’d never been the type of alpha to get off on the idea of breeding, let alone pictured anyone swollen with his kid while they were impaled on his cock. Steve felt so far out of his depth, he swiped his clean hand down his face to try to regain the equilibrium that had been shattered by your pretty omega sounds.
Thankfully, you’d gone blessedly quiet at some point when Steve had been coming all over his windowsill. He tossed the rag he’d used to clean up his mess into the laundry and flopped down on his bed, knowing he wouldn’t be getting any rest that night. It was a good thing he’d called out of work on heat leave.
Even as Steve lay in his bed, the refrain that you were too sweet for him repeating in his mind, he couldn’t help hoping that you were getting some much-needed rest. He’d never been one to worry over much about whether someone was sleeping or eating, but he wondered if you’d had a protein bar and drank a sports drink before falling asleep. He knew you needed to keep up your strength if you’d make it through your heat.
His thoughts spinning around in his mind, Steve fell into a light, fitful sleep, his alpha hindbrain remaining alert and attuned to the sounds coming from your cottage. Little did he know, it wouldn’t be long before everything would change. Something would happen that would force Steve to finally give in to the connection between him and the omega next door.
When you woke on the second morning of your heat, it was to a burning need cutting through your core, urging you to roll onto your knees and sink down on the silicone knot toy that had slipped from your pussy while you slept. Unbidden, the face of the alpha next door, Steve Rogers, popped into your mind and you sobbed through another wave of aching desire, wishing desperately that he was with you to help you through your heat.
You hadn’t met the alpha until after you’d moved into the little pink cottage next door to his much larger home, and you were instantly smitten with the former soldier. He was big—so much bigger than you—with broad shoulders and bulging biceps that were barely hidden beneath the tight t-shirts he always seemed to wear. But it was Steve’s thighs that were always so distracting to you, so thick they made you want to ride them until your slick was drenching his jeans.
A pitiful moan fell from your lips as you reached between your thighs, grasping blindly for the toy you’d discarded in your sleep. With your face still shoved into a pillow and sleep still clinging to the edges of your consciousness, you slid down on the thick silicone cock, pretending it belonged to Steve.
The alpha next door was just so…sweet.
It hadn’t taken you long after moving into your cottage to learn your neighbor’s schedule, and you made sure to always be working in the garden in front of your home when he got back from work. You lived for the growly greetings he would call to you, and the faint blush that would graze his cheekbones, like he was shy around you, his harmless omega neighbor.
And on the weekends, when you knew Steve wasn’t working, you sat on your back porch reading—though you were more often ogling the fit alpha’s shoulders and arms as he worked in his backyard. The sun would shine on Steve’s blond hair and make him look like a golden god, with sparkling blue eyes that would occasionally flick in your direction, though you didn’t think he was really looking at you.
Of course, when he’d offer to mow your lawn, you’d let him. Then, to show the alpha your thanks, you’d make him some nice refreshing lemonade. If that meant you could watch him quench his thirst while you imagined his sweet mouth on your body, drinking your slick as eagerly as he drank your lemonade, then that was just a bonus to being a good neighbor. Right?
It had become abundantly clear to you that you harbored a crush on Steve, and it was nearly excruciating living next to him when he didn’t seem interested in making a move on his omega neighbor. After all, it had been months, and he’d been nothing but friendly and respectful and sweet.
It was obvious, at least to you, that Steve was too sweet for you—too sweet to be the rough, dominant alpha you craved. Too sweet to bend you over and impale you on his thick cock with one stroke. Too sweet to shove his knot into your cunt and make you come so hard you saw stars. Too sweet to knock you up over and over again, filling up that big house of his with pups that you’d created together.
You’d told yourself it was for the best that Steve kept his distance. If he couldn’t be what you needed, then you didn’t want your crush to develop into unrequited feelings. But your heart didn’t listen, so you kept putting yourself in situations where you’d get to see your neighbor—working in your front garden when he got home, sitting on your back porch while he was in his backyard.
Then, you began to feel your heat coming on, and your thoughts about the alpha next door only worsened. It wasn’t uncommon anymore for unmated omegas to ask alpha friends or acquaintances to help them through their heats, but the prospect of asking Steve for his help, getting to come all over his knot for days on end, and then trying to go back to the way things were sounded torturous.
Instead, you went about your heat preparations as you always did, gathering supplies from the grocery store and stocking up the minifridge in your bedroom with sports drinks while you piled your bedside table high with protein bars. You closed and locked all the doors and windows of your cottage, drawing the curtains tight to keep out the sun.
You knew you were a bit of an odd omega, and you didn’t like total darkness in your nest, which was why you had been the only one interested in the little cottage. It had a skylight in the bedroom that any other omega would want closed and covered during their heat. The window itself was covered in a film that dampened most of the direct sunlight and you enjoyed the natural light, even when you were deep in your heat, so it was perfect for you.
It occurred to you, as you were preparing your room, that if you cracked open the skylight, the sounds you made during your heat would filter out from your cottage. Your desperate cries for a knot might even be heard by the alpha next door…
Later, you’d blame your decision to leave the skylight open on the dangerous combination of your pre-heat brain and the exquisite agony of your crush on Steve. But by that time, the little decision you’d made in the urgency of your heat preparations would’ve irrevocably changed your life—for the better—and you wouldn’t give a thought to regretting what you’d done.
Still, on that second morning of your heat, when you were woken by the need to be knotted and flooded with come, you didn’t even remember that you’d decided to leave the skylight open. So you had no idea whether it was working or not, whether Steve could hear you—but he wasn’t far from your thoughts as you rode your silicone alpha toy, trying to slake the need that burned through your body.
Your heats were always a little hazy, like most omega’s, with desire and need pounding through your blood so insistently, you couldn’t form any coherent thoughts. Your mind could only focus on getting a cock inside you, then a knot and, if you’d had an alpha to help you, the gush of their come. Since you were so mindless, you uttered words that you’d forgotten the second they fell from your lips.
The first night of your heat, when you’d had a moment of clear-headedness enough to gulp down a sports drink and scarf a protein bar, you’d hoped you hadn’t cried out anything that would embarrass you—like Steve’s name. You’d had a vague memory of calling out for an alpha, which was normal for an unmated omega, and a daddy, which was normal for you, given your desires when you weren’t going through your heat. But you’d breathed a sigh of relief when you didn’t remember calling out for Steve specifically.
You couldn’t imagine what would happen if you cried out Steve’s name while in heat. But you were about to find out.
The silicone toy in your cunt wasn’t cutting it. It had been just fine that first night, though you hadn’t felt as satisfied as you normally did, and you hadn’t slept as long as you typically did in between waves of your heat. Something about this heat felt different. You weren’t just desperate for an alpha’s knot and come, you wanted more…
You wanted a pup. You wanted an alpha’s cock shoved deep in your cunt, unloading their come against your cervix, filling your womb with a seed that would take and knock you up. You wanted to be bred—and not just by any alpha. You wanted the alpha next door to breed you.
Steve. You wanted Steve. You needed Steve.
“Please,” you gasped, the word leaving your lips as you thought of your big, sweet alpha neighbor. His face came easily to your mind, those sparkling blue eyes and soft lips, that strong jaw and the way a blush turned his cheeks the most perfect shade of pink. “Please, alpha, need your knot, need your come,” you whined, speaking to the image of Steve in your mind.
You pushed yourself up onto your knees, grabbing one of the many pillows from your bed and shoving it between your thighs, forcing the silicone alpha cock deeper into your cunt. Still, it wasn’t enough, even as you tried to make due.
You rocked your hips, trying to replicate the feeling of fucking yourself on an alpha’s cock, but it paled in comparison. A desperate whine worked its way up your throat, filling your room and slipping from the skylight into the morning air.
“Please, daddy, wanna have your baby,” you cried, your hands going to your tits and tugging on your nipples so roughly, pleasure and pain swirled through your body, creating a tornado of sensation that only fed the need burning in your core. “Wan’ you to knock me up, alpha, wanna give you pups, wan’ you to suck on my milky tits while you fuck me, daddy.” You groped your breasts, pinching your nipples like you were milking yourself, the sensations making your cunt gush slick all over the toy inside you.
The pleasure was gathering in your core, making you more desperate to reach the pinnacle of your climax. Your hips worked, humping the pillow and cock between your thighs, shoving yourself down against the knot at the base of the toy, knowing it was what you needed to come, but your pussy was still too tight to take it.
“Oh god, I need it, alpha, I need it, I need it,” you babbled mindlessly, fucking yourself furiously on the toy and still wishing it was Steve’s cock.
You pictured him beneath you, his cheeks tinged pink, not with a blush, but with the flush of his desire for you, his blue eyes nearly black from his pupils blowing wide as he stared up at you. His soft mouth parted as he groaned, his thick cock buried in your tight cunt, twitching as you squeezed him.
It was with that image in your mind that the fateful words spilled from your lips. You cried out desperately, “Knock me up, daddy, gimme your pup, please—please, breed me, Steve!”
So close to the edge of your release, you barely heard the distant crashing sound that echoed between your little cottage and the house that belonged to the alpha next door. All you heard were your gasping breaths and mindless moans, the toy shoving into your cunt making low squelching noises that only managed to turn you on more.
It was only when a much closer smashing sound preceded the swirl of cool morning air infiltrating your home, and flooding into your nest, that you were able to drag your attention away from your own desperate frustration. Your omega instincts were going haywire, part of you telling you something was wrong, while another part unfurled and shifted, like a flower blooming toward the sun.
Blinking your eyes to clear away the haze of your heat, your mouth fell open in an ‘o’ of surprise at the sight of the alpha in your bedroom doorway.
Steve’s big body filled the doorway, his hands clutching the wooden frame while his chest heaved with heavy breaths. It looked like he was trying to hold himself back, his grip so tight on your doorframe that a distant part of your mind worried it might splinter beneath his palms. But you couldn’t think too closely about that, not when your neighbor was staring at you with a crazed look in his eyes, like he wanted to fill you with his knot as badly as you wanted to be filled.
Your too sweet alpha neighbor’s mouth—which was normally curved in a soft, friendly smile—was twisted with ferocious lust, and when he spoke, his voice was a rough growl like nothing you’d ever heard from Steve.
“Invite me into your bed,” he rumbled, the order clear in his voice even if he didn’t use his alpha command. “Ask me to help you through your heat, tell me you want me here,” he went on through clenched teeth, an edge of desperation in his tone that called your heart—and your cunt. “Tell me you want me, omega.” His fingers gripped the doorframe tighter, and you heard the wood creak beneath his strength.
Your pussy spasmed and your heart lurched when Steve called you by your designation, but it was when his scent hit you that you felt something inside your being shift and lock into place. Steve smelled like home—like safety and security and love. He smelled like a future of wrangling children together and making love together and sitting on a porch swing together and growing old together.
In that moment, you knew what your instincts had known from the moment you met Steve—he was your mate. He was the one alpha in all the world who was meant for you, just as you were the omega meant for him. And once you knew that, it was the easiest thing in the world to part your lips and beg him to join you in your nest, in your bed, and help you through your heat.
“Please, Steve—please, mate, please help me,” you begged, your voice breathy with need and excitement, tears of joy shining in your eyes.
Something shifted in Steve’s expression when you called him your mate. You watched as he took a deep breath, scenting you the way you had him. A riot of emotions swirled in those beautiful blue eyes of his—disbelief, acknowledgement, acceptance, satisfaction, pride. You saw the moment he realized what you’d only just discovered, a smile flickering at the corner of his mouth.
“My omega, my mate,” Steve growled, finally letting go of the doorframe and launching himself at you.
Finally—finally—Steve was coming to you, closing the distance between you, and you’d never been happier in all your life. The alpha next door was your mate, and you hoped that meant he would be more than willing to knock you up and breed you like you needed.
Steve had woken from his fitful sleep to the sound of your sweet cries that morning, though they sounded much more desperate to his ears. He wasn’t sure if it was his imagination or not, but you sounded less than satisfied with whatever toy you were using and Steve slid a hand down to his already hard cock, thinking you should’ve been riding him instead of some silicone dick.
He’d lazily stroked his cock, trying to restrain himself from coming all over his stomach, while listening to your increasingly desperate cries. Steve had fisted a hand in the sheets of his bed, hoping it would be enough to hold himself back from storming over to your cottage and taking your heat into his own hands.
Then, Steve heard you cry out his name and something in him snapped. Before he even knew what he was doing, he’d thrown on some boxer briefs and stormed out of his bedroom, leaping down the stairs and throwing open the front door of his house so ferociously, he’d ripped it off some of the hinges.
Not even caring that he was leaving his door open, Steve charged over to your cottage, taking a little bit more care with your front door when he broke the lock and pushed it open, flinging it closed behind him. He knew it was likely stuck closed thanks to the broken lock, but Steve only cared that it would prevent anyone else from getting into your home. He’d deal with getting out later. Much later.
Finally, Steve got to the doorway of your bedroom, your nest, and he’d stumbled to a stop at the sight that lay before him.
You were perched in the center of your big bed, a pillow wedged between your thighs, the knot of a toy barely visible while you humped futilely on the fake cock. Your delicate fingers groped your tits, squeezing your soft flesh and pinching your nipples like you were milking yourself—that thought making even more blood rush to Steve’s cock. Desperate whimpers and whines fell from your lips, more pleas to be knocked up and filled with pups, and they were nearly his undoing.
At the last second, Steve gripped the doorframe, holding himself back from pouncing on you, as he tried to remember why he shouldn’t be there. You were an unmated omega, in heat, and he hadn’t gotten permission to be in your nest, let alone help you through your heat. And you were too sweet for him…
God, you looked sweet, though. Sweet enough that Steve’s mouth watered with the thought of how slick you were, how good you would taste on his tongue. Even from the doorway, he could see the way your wetness had soaked the pillow between your thighs. He wanted to taste you, to scent you, he wanted you.
Steve was seconds away from launching himself at you when your gaze finally landed on him. It was the delighted surprise in your eyes that urged him to ground out a desperate plea for consent to enter your room and help you through your heat. Blessedly, you seemed coherent enough to answer—but you didn’t only answer and beg for his help, you called him your mate.
That word struck a chord in Steve’s chest, his heart pounding even harder at the impossible prospect that you were his mate—that you were meant to be his. But he took a deep breath, taking in the scent of you and opening himself up to the possibility that you were his.
You even smelled sweet, like the pink roses in your front garden—or, rather, the peace Steve felt when he came home to find you tending to your flowers. You smelled like the warmth of a gentle fire and the giddiness of butterfly kisses. You smelled like life, like the time unfurling before the two of you, years and decades spent with each other, making each other happy.
It was as if Steve truly came alive for the first time when he scented you, and the last tether of the self-restraint holding him back from you snapped.
“My omega, my mate,” he rumbled in a low purr, a voice he’d never even heard himself use before. But he didn’t have time to think about that too closely—he only knew he needed to get to you.
As quickly as he could, Steve surged into your room, tearing off his boxer briefs—the only clothing he’d had the presence of mind to put on, and he was thankful for it, since it saved him the grief of a public indecency charge—in the few steps it took to get to your bed.
By the time Steve tackled you into the tangle of blankets and pillows, he was naked as the day he was born, his cock throbbing with need and brushing against swaths of your soft, bare skin, leaving his precum behind. The alpha cradled your body in his strong arms as he rolled you beneath him, his narrow hips slotting perfectly between your plush thighs, his hard length resting against your mound.
But there was something in his way, something that shouldn’t be inside you and Steve couldn’t help but growl, “Get that fucking toy out of my cunt, ‘mega.” He softened the fury in his voice with light, fleeting kisses to your cheeks and temple and forehead, greedy to taste the sweetness of your skin.
“Yes, alpha,” you gasped, fumbling between your bodies to wrench the silicone dick from your tight hole.
The sweet submission in your voice was too much for Steve—he had to taste it. Slanting his lips to yours, Steve kissed you for the first time, groaning into your mouth at the wondrous feeling of your mouth beneath his. You tasted better than you smelled, like radiant sunshine bursting on his tongue and casting a golden glow over his entire body.
Deepening the kiss, Steve plundered your mouth, stroking his tongue against yours and nipping at your lips until you were gasping and panting beneath him. Your entire body trembled with unslaked need, your fingers clinging to his bulging biceps as you cried out for him, all of which stroked Steve’s alpha ego so much, his cock twitched and leaked against your belly.
“Please, Steve—daddy—alpha—I need you inside me,” you wailed in a broken voice and Steve’s instincts took over.
He shifted his hips back, the tip of his cock finding your slick hole and he pushed forward, sinking his hard length into your cunt with one thrust. Steve’s entire world realigned, his heart stuttering in his chest at the feeling of your tight heat consuming him, overwhelming him. An animalistic groan left his lips, and he buried the sound in your neck, breathing in your scent as he tried not to come immediately.
With Steve’s cock finally buried inside you, he felt your body relax beneath him, your moan of pleasure dissolving into a sigh of relief. Steve’s hindbrain felt a deep satisfaction at the way you melted in his arms, your submission to him apparent in the loosening of your muscles. Finding your lips again, Steve kissed you sweetly, cherishing the moment of calm before your heat urged the two of you to move.
“Thank you, alpha,” you whispered, your voice soft and blissful and the most content Steve had heard it since your heat began in earnest the day before. “The toys weren’t working.” You pressed a kiss to Steve’s cheek on your way to burying your face in the crook of his neck, breathing so deeply he could hear your inhale, making his cock twitch in the depths of your pussy.
Then, your words pierced through the haze of pleasure in Steve’s mind and he purred, smiling into your neck when you relaxed further beneath him, responding to him.
“You needed your mate, didn’t you, baby?” Steve cooed, lavishing your neck with kisses until you were whining and squirming beneath him. “Needed your daddy to pound your needy little cunt like only your alpha could, huh?” He started rolling his hips in tight circles, grinding into your cunt, his knot rubbing your clit in a way that had you clenching deliciously around him. “Needed me to pump your sweet little womb full of come, huh, needed me to give you a pup?”
As soon as the heated words fell from Steve’s lips, he wished he could take them back. He’d heard you beg him to breed you, but that was when you were riding a silicone alpha dick, not when you were seconds away from taking Steve’s knot.
Mentally, Steve chastised himself for letting his mouth run away from him so soon. He’d barely gotten his cock in you and he was already talking about knocking you up. He didn’t want you to think he was that kind of alpha, one that only wanted an omega to pump out babies for him—even though the thought did make Steve rock hard.
“Sorry, ‘mega,” Steve mumbled, shifting his arms beneath your body so he could cradle your head in one hand, holding you still while he rocked his hips into yours, kissing your cheek and jaw and neck and anywhere he could reach.
“Sorry for what?” you asked on a gasp, hooking your legs around Steve’s sides and clinging to him so you could grind on his thick cock.
Thankfully, you didn’t seem turned off or scared by Steve’s breeding talk. If anything, the way you arched your spine and shoved your cunt down on his dick made him think you liked it. But surely that couldn’t be true.
“Didn’t mean to mention pups so soon,” Steve said gruffly, hiding his face in your neck so you wouldn’t see the blush that he knew was turning his cheeks pink.
“Oh god,” you moaned, your cunt squeezing Steve’s cock as your body writhed beneath his. “Wanna give you so many pups, alpha,” you cried, humping up from beneath Steve’s big body, riding his cock harder than you’d been riding your toy when he’d walked in.
Steve went cross-eyed at the assault on his senses. Between the perfect heat of your slick pussy gripping his cock, teasing his knot every time you rocked against him, and the sound of your sweet voice confessing you wanted him to knock you up, Steve’s body shuddered with the effort it took not slam his knot home and flood your womb with his seed to give you exactly what you wanted.
“You like that idea, huh?” Steve rumbled, hungry passion and desire coursing through his body and urging him to move faster, to fuck you harder. He pulled out of your fluttering pussy and slammed back inside, relishing the desperate cry that left your lips and the way your fingers dug into the muscles of his arms. “You like it when your alpha tells you how much he wants to breed you?”
Despite his best efforts, Steve could hear the thread of insecurity in his question, and he wasn’t surprised when you cupped his face and moved his head up so you could look into his eyes. What he didn’t expect was the sheer amount of pleasure and desire in your hazy gaze, or the mixture of sweetness and depravity in the little smirk you gave him.
“I do, daddy,” you said, your voice breathy but no less firm in your resolve. “I want to hear everything you’ve thought about doing to your little omega—want you to breed me, alpha.”
Everything else in the world melted away as Steve focused on you—his omega, his mate—and the fact that he was going to try his damndest to give you what you wanted. After all, that was his duty as your alpha. You were his to take care of, to provide for, to protect, to cherish—to fuck and to knot.
You were his to love—you were his to breed. And Steve planned on loving you and breeding you plenty.
You’d never felt anything so good as Steve sinking his thick alpha cock into your weeping cunt, and you nearly sobbed in relief as the edge of aching, burning need finally abated. This was what you needed—not a toy or any alpha’s cock, but your mate’s. Your body and omega instincts had known something was wrong, and it had taken a slip of your tongue to fix it.
Even if it had been an accident to cry out Steve’s name, you couldn’t feel embarrassed about it, not when you finally felt something like satisfaction. The need of your heat still burned bright beneath your skin, but for a moment, you could revel in the feeling of being so intimately connected to your mate, your Steve—the alpha next door.
The words of thanks had slipped past your lips before you could stop them, and you loved the teasing way he responded. But then you felt a shift in Steve. He’d seemed to feel guilty for mentioning pups, but even his apology turned you on, making your arousal burn hotter. Your body had been unable to still when you needed him so badly—needed to give him pups, needed to grow round with his child and know that he had claimed you in the most primal way possible.
Your brain had short-circuited when Steve had said he wanted to breed you, but you’d still heard the anxiousness in his tone and you’d guided his head up so you could look at him. The uncertainty and guilt in Steve’s beautiful blue eyes nearly broke your heart. He was too sweet for words, wanting to make sure you were comfortable with even the words he said in the heat of the moment.
Between one breath and the next, you fell in love with Steve Rogers. He wasn’t simply the alpha next door, he was your mate, and he was yours. A fierce possessiveness filled your chest as you smirked up at your alpha, determining to show him exactly how much you wanted everything he’d said.
“Want you to breed me, alpha,” you begged on a moan, your hips rising up off the bed to meet the brutal thrusts of your mate. “Fill me up with your pups, daddy, please, I need it!” You held Steve’s gaze, letting him see the pleasure on your face, hear the genuineness of your words.
You saw the moment Steve’s insecurity and guilt melted into desire and determination. His blue eyes darkened and his face twisted into a mask of sinful resolve. He looked like a fallen god, with his golden hair and tanned skin, framed perfectly in the little bit of morning light filtering in through the skylight above your bed. Your pussy clenched around his cock, fluttering as he thrust inside you, teasing your hole with his knot.
“Don’t worry, ‘mega,” Steve rumbled, ducking down and capturing your lips in a sweet kiss that left you gasping for breath. He pressed his forehead to yours, staring deep into your eyes. “We’re making a baby today.”
“Yes, alpha,” you cried, spreading your legs wider in an effort to let Steve fuck you deeper. He grinned, shifting his hands to your thighs and pushing them up against your chest, folding you in half and pounding you into the bed.
“Gonna fill up your perfect cunt with all the seed in my balls, and if it doesn’t take today, ‘m gonna fill you up until you’re overflowing with my come—until your belly’s bulging with it,” Steve growled, rutting into you with a ferociousness you never would’ve expected from your sweet alpha neighbor. But Steve’s sweetness was never far from the surface, and he proved it by lowering his voice to a deep rumble that you felt in your belly, asking, “Mm, ’s that what you want, baby, want daddy to give you a pup?”
You were pinned beneath Steve, his cock fucking you so hard, your room was filing with the wet squelching sounds of your soaking cunt and the sharp rhythm of your alpha’s thighs slapping against your own. But still, it was his words that seemed to have the most effect on you, turning you into a writhing, needy creature who’d only be satisfied when Steve emptied his balls deep in your cunt.
“Yes, alpha,” you cried, your fingers clinging to Steve’s shoulders, digging into his warm, golden skin while he fucked you into oblivion. “Want you to knock me up, wanna give you a pup, wanna grow big and round with your child and feed you both from my milky tits,” you babbled, throwing your head back and screaming when Steve’s cock hit against your cervix, pleasure and pain swirling like an inferno in your body. “Please, daddy, god, I need it, I need it—knot me, breed, me, Steve, please!”
“Baby,” Steve groaned, capturing your lips in another kiss while he rutted into you faster and harder, his knot pressing against your tight hole with every thrust and teasing you with the stretch of it. “You’re gonna get a pup, alright,” he growled when he pulled away, pressing his forehead to yours. “You’re gonna pop out a kid for me and then I’m gonna fill you right back up.” Steve moaned, his body shuddering and you knew he was close. “Wanna watch you bounce on my cock with your belly ripe and swollen with my pups, your tits heavy with milk—the prettiest mommy and mate an alpha could ask for.”
“Steve,” you sobbed, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to hold him close, kissing him and thrusting your hips up to meet his. “Please, make me a mommy, alpha—wanna be a mommy, please, daddy, daddy, please!” Then your lips were too preoccupied with Steve’s, kissing him messily in between desperate moans while he fucked you hard and fast.
Finally, Steve pulled back and thrust forward with so much power, his knot pushed inside your tight cunt and you screamed in pleasure, the feeling of his thick bulge stretching your tight hole sending you over the edge into the most earth-shattering release you’d felt in your life. It was a transcendental experience, coming on your mate’s cock, your alpha surrounding you and filling you up in every way possible.
As your body squeezed Steve’s cock, he groaned loudly in your ear, burying his face in your neck while his hips stuttered against yours, trying to fuck you with his knot but unable to move because your bodies were locked so tightly together. Then, with a moan of, “my mate,” you felt the moment Steve began to come. His cock twitched deep inside your cunt, a warmth filling you as he shot rope after rope of come against your cervix, filling your womb.
For a long time, the two of you stayed locked together, riding out your releases in each other’s embrace. Giggles and moans filled the room, each of you kissing the other wherever you could reach while you basked in your pleasure together. You breathed in the scent of Steve, your lips dragging up and down the column of his throat while he kissed your neck and shoulder and just beneath your ear, making you shiver.
Eventually, when the squeezing of your cunt was reduced to a flutter and your body had milked every last drop of seed from Steve’s cock, the two of you settled. Your heat had abated for the moment. Though need still burned low in the core of your body, reminding you it wasn’t over just yet.
But you had a bit of a respite, and you took the time to revel in you newfound mate. Turning your head, you pressed a kiss to Steve’s cheek, which was flushed pink with pleasure.
You felt Steve’s smile against your skin and then he was rising up so you could see the full blush that tinged your alpha’s cheeks. He looked so sweet and ruined, his blond hair a mess, his blue eyes bright with satisfaction, a deeply smug smile on his plump lips.
“Feeling better, ‘mega?” he asked, though there was so much male satisfaction in his tone, you were certain he already knew the answer.
Still, you liked seeing this side of Steve. Typically you didn’t like cocky alphas, but Steve looked so hot when he was confident, your pussy fluttered around his knot at the sight of his smirk.
“I am, daddy,” you said softly, smiling up at your alpha, enjoying the way his smirk deepened as you confirmed what he knew. You couldn’t help but stroke his ego a little more. “Now that you’re here to take care of me.”
Steve’s eyes softened and he pressed a heated kiss to your lips. “Good,” he said when he pulled away. Then his arms were wrapping around you and he rolled onto his back, dragging you with him until you were splayed across his broad chest, your bodies still locked together by his knot.
It would deflate soon enough, but you reveled in the feeling while it lasted, snuggling into Steve’s arms. Sleep called to you, but Steve was still moving and you when you opened your eyes, you found him reaching for your stash of provisions on your bedside table.
“Gotta eat and hydrate, baby,” Steve murmured as he unwrapped a protein bar and began feeding it to you. Even though you were exhausted, you knew he was right and you let him feed you, only sitting up when it was time to gulp down some of the sports drink he offered you. “Good girl, ‘mega, doing so well for your alpha,” Steve said, praising you while you ate and drank.
When you were done, Steve tossed the empty wrappers and bottles back onto your bedside table and relaxed into the many pillows on your bed. You settled down on his chest, your body sated in every way possible, muscles going loose when your alpha began to purr.
“Thank you, alpha,” you mumbled, the urge to sleep more insistent since you were fed. Steve’s hands smoothed down your back, tracing your spine lightly with his fingertips in a way that made you melt even further into him.
“Don’t need to thank me,” he grumbled, pressing a sweet kiss to your temple. “You’re my mate, ‘m gonna do everything I can to take care of you—and our kids.” He added the last bit like it was an afterthought, but you knew Steve meant it, and your heart warmed at his protectiveness.
You smiled into Steve’s warm skin, nuzzling into his neck beneath his jaw, breathing in the scent of him—the scent of home—but his words made you remember something you should tell him.
“Steve, ‘m on birth control,” you murmured sleepily, pressing a lazy kiss to the thick column of his neck. “Thought you should know.” You snorted a little, laughing at yourself for the silliness of your last statement, even though it was true.
The rumble of Steve’s purr changed as he chuckled, his strong arms tightening around your waist for a moment before he grabbed a blanket and pulled it up over your cooling bodies. “Figured, ‘mega,” he rumbled, his voice so warm, you could hear his smile. “Doesn’t mean ‘m gonna stop picturing you round with my pup, even if it’s a while before that happens.”
“Mm,” you hummed in acknowledgment, then pouted as you processed his words. “As long as it’s not a long while,” you muttered, hardly listening to what you were saying because you were so close to sleep.
Steve chuckled again, his hands squeezing you lightly. “It’ll be as long or as short as you want, baby,” he assured you in a gruff voice that was thick with just as much tiredness as yours. “I’d give you a pup today if I could.”
You smiled, your heart filling with emotion, and pressed your lips to your alpha’s neck. You might’ve been exhausted, but it didn’t stop you from murmuring the words your heart urged you to say, “I love you, Steve.”
Steve’s purr deepened, and he held you close, no hesitation in his voice when he said, “I love you, too.” Your alpha brushed a kiss to your cheek and smacked your ass very lightly. “Now rest, omega, we still have to get through the rest of your heat.”
You fell asleep with a smile on your face, feeling safe and protected and satisfied in the arms of your mate, your bodies still locked together by Steve’s knot. You never would’ve expected anything to come of your crush on your neighbor—and you never would’ve expected he’d be a perfect fit for your desires, let alone your mate.
But, you knew the two of you were going to live a happy life together—and you couldn’t wait to spend every moment of it with the alpha next door.
#CT 2024 raffle entry#steve rogers#steve rogers fanfiction#steve rogers smut#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x you#steve rogers fic#steve rogers fanfic#alpha steve rogers#alpha steve x omega reader#steve rogers au#steve rogers imagine#steve rogers one shot#chris evans#chris evans fanfiction#chris evans smut#chris evans characters#mutual pining#idiots in love#omegaverse#witchywithwhiskeywork
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To Your Love That Smells Like Crazy
Synopsis: Damian presented as an alpha, to everyone's despair. He announced he found a mate, to everyone's skepticism. You're the perfect omega, to everyone's delight.
Pairing: Yandere!Alpha!Batboys X Gn!AFAB!Omega!Reader
Tw: 18+ pwp; noncon/dubcon smut; noncon drugging; creepy batfamily members feeling attracted to Reader when they were still 15, but nothing sexual or romantic between them happens until they're 18; this chapter is mostly Damian x Reader; ABO, Reader is an omega, all the batboys are alphas; Heat symptoms; Damian and Reader are 15 at first, when the smut happens they're 18, Tim is three years older than them, Jason is five years older, Dick is 10 years older and Bruce is on his 40s; Implied future gangbang? They want to share Reader (polyamory) but right now the real action is just between Damian and Reader; Loss of virginity on both parts; Implied that Damian is also inexperienced on kissing and Reader knows a little more about that; Fingering!R receiving; Slight schoolgirl/boy/person!Reader; Reader wears lipgloss, nail polish and earrings; Omegas breasts produce milk during heat; Some breastfeeding; Breeding kink; Handcuffs; The word ‘rape’ is used twice; Lots of crying; Nipple play; Dirty talk; Slight voyeurism; Unprotected sex; Negative and selfdeprecating thoughts; Claiming ownership (biting); English isn't my first language.
Word count: 4,7k
Requested? No.
Extra notes: Planning on making one pwp chapter for each batboy, and then a last one with no smut. Also, I think I'm gonna start posting on AO3 since the tw are getting worse...
General masterlist | To Your Love That Smells Like Crazy - Series masterlist
Damian was territorial, dominant and temperamental since the family had known him. Maybe he was born like that, maybe he wasn't, they couldn't know, so, what they most hoped for was that those were just personality traits, maybe coping mechanisms, and the puppy would present as an omega or beta one day, and then maybe the hormones would make him calm down. It was a small possibility, but one could only dream, right?!
Well, those hopes were crushed when, at his fifteenth birthday, Damian woke up growling at the mix of strong alpha scents stinking his room, his territory, and started pacing inside there, not allowing anyone but the old beta Alfred to come in.
He calmed down after a couple of hours, came out of his room to eat breakfast, assessed and scented the rest of his territory (everyone's territory, really, the manor was the family’s home), and maybe humor his inner alpha by subjugating the rest of the pack. It didn't work, obviously, they were all mature alphas who went through puberty already and knew how to (mostly) manage conflict with a newly-turned alpha who still smelt like milk and was just overwhelmed with hormones.
After a full belly, it was decided he shouldn't have to go to school for the first few days (something the teenager was happy with), to learn to control his mood and impulses, visit a specialized doctor to be sure what kind of suppressants were better suited for his organism, and so he could go through his first rut in peace.
A few days later, Damian went back to school, nose itching from some not-so-pleasant alpha scents, some weak beta scents, some sugary omega scents, and a lot of milky scents coming from most students, especially unpresented puppies.
He wondered how adults live like this, if he would just get used to it, and it wouldn't bother him so much one day. One thing was to feel the smell of flowers or food, another thing was to feel people’s pheromones. But his train of thoughts were halted when he felt you.
Not even inside the classroom yet, but he could sniff you out and find you if he wanted to. Strong, yet suave, soft. Strawberries. And milk. It made his whole body shudder and tremble. Now he knew why his family occasionally asked where the delicious scent stuck to his clothes came from. Now he knew why alphas turned their heads and stared at you so much when you both were walking around. It was all you. His best friend.
Damian stared openly and unconsciously, while you made your way to him none the wiser and sat down at his side, and he almost got annoyed when, at first, you didn't seem to notice his new presentation, as if you didn't even acknowledge him as an alpha yet. But then you turned and stared at him strangely.
— Dude, why’re you staring so mu- Oh. — You blinked, finally having realized where the new musky scent was coming from. — You're lucky you smell good. My neighbor smells like feet.
When he came home, he announced he had an omega.
Obviously, that left everyone bewildered as to what he meant by that, it was impossible for during his first day back outside as an alpha, he already had a mate. But he didn't have to explain much for them to understand, the scent on his clothes was enough proof as to why he wanted you for himself.
After that, Damian invited you to hang out with him at the manor for the first time. It caused a reaction in everyone, and all of them were home, of course they were, Damian wanted to show off his future mate, and you had to meet the family, since he single-handedly decided you were going to join their pack already.
As you walked past each door on the way to Damian's room, everyone had a reaction.
The old beta and grandfather, Alfred, was very polite and nice, he smelt like tea. He smiled more freely with how sweet you were, amused by Damian's clear crush.
Next, you passed Dick by the gym, he smelt spicy, and his door was open, so he could peek better to satiate his curiosity when Damian's crush arrived, yet, he didn't expect to almost fall from his stretching position when he finally took a whiff from your sweet scent for the first time, instead of just the faint and weak thing that occasionally got stuck on Damian's clothes and hair. He managed to look mostly presentable even though he almost sprinted to the corridor to meet you. Dick was even more pleased to see you were beautiful, even in your modest school uniform. He forced himself to hold back and stay in the gym when Damian decided the interaction took long enough, and pulled you to keep walking.
Jason was next, he was in the library. His scent was thick. Woody. He coughed around his drink when he felt your scent, and Damian rolled his eyes at him. Jason’s whole body froze when he saw how soft you looked, clearly an omega. He noted that you looked older than fifteen, but Jason knew you were just a couple of months older than Damian, and you still smelled like milk. His attraction to you bothered him because he couldn't ignore your still-milky scent, and he was already imagining how you would smell like when you fully reached maturity. Your hair was shiny and looked soft, like clouds and cotton-candy. He wanted to stick his nose there and hug you. You looked the perfect company for a nap (and more). Damian quickly steered you away to keep walking.
Next was Tim, he was in his room, and he smelt like peppermint. He always kept the door closed, but during your visit, it was open wide, due to his curiosity to meet you, everyone knew that. Tim snapped his eyes away from his computer when he felt you, and stared at you wide-eyed when you appeared. You didn't even come inside, Damian didn't want to feel your scent coming off of Tim's room to haunt him every time he walked past that door for the next days. It would definitely make him want to kill his brother. Tim tried to burn your image to his brain to the smallest details. He noted the color of your nail polish, your earrings, the thing dangling from your backpack, the shine and rosiness of your lip gloss. Tim specially liked your soft-spoken voice, and it bothered him how polite, neutral and distant it was, because clearly you both didn't now each other, you were just there as Damian's friend, meeting his older brother for the first time, and just wanted to go hole up inside Damian's room as soon as possible to avoid the weird interaction.
Soon, your wishes came through, and you spent the next few hours there with Damian basically teaching you everything and doing your homework. It was a new behavior, he never did that out of instinct before, some people asking him for help would annoy him, others, like you, he would calmly help out of the hidden kindness in his heart, but he never took initiative before. You brushed it off as just new alpha behavior and just used his either gentlemanly or condescending behavior, if it meant you could gain things out of it and be lazy.
At dinner, you finally met his father. Bruce Wayne was the alpha of a pack full of alphas and a beta. His himbo and playboy persona gave you the impression that he wasn't the most dominant alpha around, but you were proven wrong when you felt his sandalwood aroma and saw his towering frame. His personality was the same you saw on the TV, though, pleasant like a TV host or just a popular guy. On the inside, he was fixated with you, ignoring your milky childish scent and your school uniform. He wanted you around the house more. God knows how much a bit more of softness could help the family’s dynamic. Maybe that was what was missing, an omega around the place. Like you. Actually, it could be you. He thought about convincing Damian to stick to living in the manor even after you were both married adults. Or you could be Bruce’s when you were of age. Wait, how old were you?
Alfred drove you and Damian to your place after everything was done, all the alphas with a heavy heart, bothered that you had to go, that you couldn't spend the night with them yet. Even if you were already theirs.
It took a lot to convince Damian to share you, but eventually, he begrudgingly agreed, they were a pack, after all, not just a family, they stick together, take care of each other and of each other's interests. Having something that wasn't just vigilantism in common would be good bonding for them, and the closer a pack could get, the better. That he knew. A pack sharing someone wasn't exactly unheard of either.
After that, Damian started inviting you to the manor more often. Almost every week you were there. Your parents started saying that Damian probably was interested in you, but you laughed it off, never thinking an alpha like him would be interested in an omega like you.
The family made the best of that time to get you used to them, to their dynamic, and to make you feel at home, safe, trustful. They also wanted your scent to get stuck everywhere. To get to know you. To learn everything about you. To make plans.
When Damian's 18 birthday came, you were already legally an adult too, and they invited you over, saying it was a birthday party. When you got there, the party consisted in only you and the family.
The conversation was nice.
They put drugs on your piece of cake that simulated an out of cycle heat.
It started with fatigue.
Then fever.
Your eyes got blurred.
You thought you were getting sick, and just planned on taking cold medicine when you got home.
The alphas were slowly coming closer and circling you, unnoticed.
You felt weird in your intimate parts, maybe you needed to pee.
You stood up, but your knees were weak, and you almost fell, if it wasn't for Dick, who caught you mid-air.
All scents became clearer when your eyes locked. You wondered what the look on his face meant, confused.
You felt their excitement, and arousal. And you felt something poking your thigh.
You felt your own underwear getting wet.
You asked them to take you home, but they denied. That made you feel antsy, so you tried searching for your phone to call your parents to pick you up, but you couldn't find it. It got especially hard when Damian picked you up and started walking up the stairs with you.
— It's okay, omega. You're okay with us. I’m going to take care of you… — Your hands trembled when he purred the word ‘omega’, mumbled those words, and nuzzled the side of your head with his nose, taking a deep breath from your sweet strawberry scent, and faint sex smell, due to the wetness between your thighs. No longer any hint of milk anymore, since you already reached maturity just a couple of months before him, and now he also didn't smell like puppy anymore.
— N-No… D-Dami… W-Where are you taking me? What a-are you gonna do? … I wanna go home… I’m not feeling good… — You whimpered and tried to weakly move out of his hold, it didn't work.
— You are home, beloved. And I’m going to help you feel better… With my knot. — Your eyes widened. — I will fuck you real good and fill you with my semen. I know it is your first time, it is mine too. But do not worry, your heat will make it painless and you will be satisfied with me. — You whimpered higher, your omega was preening, crying for a knot, your pussy squeezing hard, but your mind knew it was wrong. Clearly something was wrong. Why was no one helping? Couldn't they see you were caught by surprise with your heat and were saying no to him? Why were they looking at you like that? A cough coming from somewhere seemed to snap Damian out of it, like he remembered something. — Ah, right. And then, you will receive father’s, and my siblings' knots. I will go first since it’s my birthday and I claimed you first. — Damian blushed, despite his smug tone.
You cried for help, at first, it came out weak, as your omega didn't want to make something the alphas would disapprove of, but the closer you got to the room they designated for the moment, the reality of what was coming was overtaking your instincts. Especially after your belly started to hurt at being empty of seed.
The alphas only shushed you, and you helplessly watched as Tim handcuffed one of your hands to the bedpost as soon as Damian laid you down on the nest they made for you, and Dick and Jason each started taking your sneakers off. Bruce was standing a few feet away from the bed, Alfred at his side. The oldest alpha’s eyes were glued to your laid down figure, hungry and serious. Darker than you had ever seen. You've never been more scared of him before. He occasionally commented something to Alfred, that you vaguely registered as instructions, that also started being given to his children.
You weakly tugged at the handcuff and tried to sit up at the same time, but Damian pushed himself between your legs, and held you down by the waist. Dick and Jason held your legs open to accommodate him better, and your overwhelmed brain barely noticed their hands also rubbing your ankles and thighs. You've never felt more aroused and more scared your whole life.
Alfred exited the room to start doing Bruce's orders, and he kept watching. Tim, who had disappeared out of your line of sight for a second, came back holding a long, shiny and glinting pair of scissors. You tugged harder at the restraints and tried to push your body up to get away, thinking he was going to hurt you, but he just purred at you to calm you down, unfortunately, it worked, and your pussy tightened when Damian hissed at feeling your center pressing against his hard cock, when you pushed your hips up and against his. You could feel him poking your underthigh, only the clothes separating you.
— It's okay, omega, I’m just cutting off your clothes, it's gonna be easier to strip you that way. — Tim said soothingly, while purring and almost cooing at you. Your eyes widened when he said that, and actually started cutting your shirt open, until Dick was able to pull the ruined fabric off from under you.
All three alphas started purring at seeing your braless torso, chest already swelling with milk and nipples darkened. Omegas body produced milk when they had a puppy to feed, or during heats, and ruts, when an alpha was in a rut, and the omega was helping them, because the body understood it was a rough period, where a lot of energy was spent and not much nutrition came, since both were too busy procreating and too weak to go searching for food, so the milk was a lot helpful in those moments. There were even historical moments where that skill was useful in other contests, when the economy got so bad that most packs were starving, and the omegas of the pack helped them survive with milk.
Damian bit his lips and brought his right hand up to your left breast, squeezing it softly. Everyone was entranced, watching a single drop of milk come out, the breast not full yet. You arched your back, it felt good, so good that for a moment you forgot why you wanted to get away. Damian also didn't help your train of thought when his thumb started rubbing your stiff nipple, sending ripples of pleasure through your body and forcing your eyes closed. You forced yourself not to make a sound.
You snapped out of it when you felt Tim cutting your pants and underwear off. Your eyes widened at the feeling of being exposed and the almost cold air that made your hair stand. Your legs trembled and you felt Dick and Jason's hands working, uncoordinated pads of fingers dancing across the inside of your thighs.
Your arousal’s scent freely infastated the room now, and half of them growled, in exception of Bruce and Tim, who were keeping themselves more calm and collected.
— It's time to go now, let Damian and (Y/N) have their moment. — Bruce announced and you watched as Damian smirked, then you hid your face, sobbing against the pillow. He cooed at you while his other hand went down between your legs and started rubbing slow circles while pressing against your clit.
Dick sighed.
— Take care of them, Dami. Have fun and enjoy. — Dick patted Damian's shoulder, but you weren't sure the alpha above even noticed you, too busy gazing at you and your body, enjoying how warm and wet you were.
— Yeah, remember to do what we taught you, baby bird. — Damian only hummed at Jason's comment, and leaned down, pressing his chest to yours. He brought his mouth to the juncture of your neck and shoulder, and started leaving a trail of kisses up your neck, and under your jaw.
It was your first time feeling someone doing this, when you read fanfics and books, you never thought this could feel good like the writing always described, but it actually did, and you hated that you liked it, crying harder against the pillow and hoping his lips weren't moving closer to your face because he wanted to kiss you. You felt his nose sniffing your scent gland.
Tim hummed.
— Be careful with them, and don't take too long, everyone wants their turn. — Tim warned softly and was the last to exit the room, closing the door, but not locking it.
Damian’s warm breath huffed against your neck.
— Finally alone… — Damian whispered with a hoarse voice that made your hair stand. You whimpered and squeezed your eyes harder.
— Please, let me go… You don't have to do this, I won't tell anyone- — Your sentence was cut short when one of Damian's long and thick fingers invaded your entrance delicately. Your mouth opened on a silent scream, and the alpha watched you with lust in his eyes.
— Beloved… Omega… You will come to like this, I promise you that… — He sucked a faint hickey on your scent gland. His right hand started exploring the rest of your body, fumbling and squeezing the softer parts he found out he liked the most. You couldn't control your panting and small moans when his finger curled upwards inside you, touching your sweet spot.
— D-Dam-... A-Alpha… — You arched your back when he started fingering you faster, your sensitive walls milking a single finger, crying for a thick knot, thirsty for his seed, your womb empty of puppies.
— See… — He kissed your cheek. — We barely started, and yet… — Another kiss, closer to your mouth. — You're already dripping and earning for my knot… — Your lips met, it didn't seem like he had much experience, maybe it was his first kiss? Either way, you knew a little more about what you were doing, and he quickly learned. In just a few minutes, he was dominating your mouth. The younger alpha gave a slow bite to your lips when a second finger joined the first in fucking you, wet noises eccoing around the room.
You gained some clearance after a few moments, when he took his fingers off. You whined, not knowing if it was to plead him not to rape you, or because you wanted his cock stuffing you as soon as possible. You tried to force your head away from his, and he relented, pausing the kiss, but only to start taking his own clothes off. If your face wasn't already hot from the fever and arousal, you knew it would be now, feeling shy with everything new that was happening and his naked body, and surprised that you never once noticed his muscles before.
While afraid, you peeked down and saw his hard and bobbing dick, it was thick and above average, but not too much. Not too much for someone who wasn't a virgin like you were, that is.
You tried to sit up, to get away from him in a bolt of strength you didn't have until now, fighting your omega with as much as you could. But it proved to be no help, as it punished you by making your belly tug and hurt twice more. Your torso fell down on the bed again, powerless by pain, numbness, and the restraint around your wrist.
Damian only cooed, still kneeling above you and between your legs. You cried. You didn't feel his calloused hands holding and caressing your hips, but you felt the blunt wet tip against your entrance. You were ruined.
Your parents would hate you. They would say it was your fault for ignoring their warnings and shoving yourself inside a home full of alphas with no omega. They would kick you out of the pack. And if the Wayne's did good on their word of raping you one after the other, you would probably get pregnant, as you weren't on birth control. That is, if they didn't kill you or kept you hostage in their basement. And even if your pack wanted to, they wouldn't be able to do anything to get justice for you, as the Wayne's were much more influential and rich. You were only going to the same school as Damian because your parents worked as teachers there, for god's sake. You were doomed. And if they decided to mark you…
You cried harder, ashamed of being so aroused now and so dumb all along. For the first time, you hated being an omega.
But all those self-deprecating thoughts were muffled when he finally invaded you. It was slow, gentle, testing how things felt. Damian heaved a breath and buried his face on your neck, breathing your scent deep. It felt amazing, for the both of you. You were so deep in your heat that of course it wasn't going to hurt at all, silly you. Those alphas were right, they are always right. They can take care of you.
— … More… Please, I want more… — You moaned and tried moving your hips against his, forcing his cock to push against your walls faster. Damian's head snapped up, looking at you with interest and lust. You were already cockdrunk, as he was pussydrunk, and he wasn't even halfway inside yet.
He bottomed out with more hurry, after pulling in and out twice to test if you really weren't in pain. He moaned deep against your face before shoving his lips against yours again, while he thrusted his hips. The alpha found the perfect rhythm while pulling almost all the way in and out, in a steady dance. Your moans got louder by the second, your inner omega happy with all the attention you were receiving.
Your free hand shot up to rest on his back, nails digging his scarred skin, not knowing what to do. Damian's hips gradually grew in force, until the bed was shaking and softly hitting the wall. The sound of your hips colliding and your wetness clear as day didn't bother you, as you only started begging for the alpha. To be owned. To be knotted. To be breeded.
— See how I take care of you… — He kissed down your collarbone, murmuring against your skin. — Make you feel good… — One of his hands slid down to grip your thigh, pulling your leg up, purposefully looking for a deeper angle to ravish you. You gasped as he found it, and his thrusts got harder. You mumbled a bunch of agreements to whatever he was saying, you just wanted his knot! — You're my omega now, our omega now… — He softly bit your pouting nipple, being considerate as to not hurt the sensitive and swelling area. Your hand trembled on his back and shot up to pull his hair in an overwhelming wave of pleasure. He pulled weakly at your nipple with his teeth scraping the nerves on the area, until he let it go. — We will stuff you full of cum everyday and every hour… — His lips trailed down your ribs, but the position didn't allow him to go further down. He wanted to leave kisses on your whole body, and now he could do that, because now you weren't escaping them. He growled, resigning himself to traill his lips up through the space between your breasts. Your body trembled with the sound. — Fuck you real good… You will never have to beg, omega, we will spoil you with everything you need, everything you want… — His huge hands trailed up your body until they reached your chest. He squished them for a moment, enjoying how soft they were, and how pliant you were, looking straight into your dazed cockdrunk eyes. Imagining how your perfect pups will look like. Milk started coming out in small drops, so silent that he only noticed when it was dripping down his hand. His eyes shot down to assess the view and his knot started growing at the sight of your swelling breasts and darkened nipples, giving up milk for him, for him, so soft his fingers were digging and moulding the flesh, all while they were dancing up and down, bouncing, seducing him. You were seducing him. You were stunning, ravishing, perfect without even trying. He was happy his pack was the one tying you down to them, he wanted to kill someone just for thinking that someone else could have you like this. — … And you will give us everything we want…
He tentatively, almost hypnotized, leaned down and sucked your stiff nipple between his soft lips, sucking a small amount of milk inside, letting It rest on his tongue for a moment, savouring the taste, before swallowing.
You were sensitive, with a dull ache, but his suckling helped with the pain and sent waves of flickering pleasure against your body. You could feel him forcing his knot with each thrust to fit inside you as it gradually grew, and gasped, whimpering pleas for more. Begging him to keep going and stuff you full. You were both getting close to orgasm. Damian shut his eyes hard, overstimulated with the growing pleasure. He let go of your breast when he started feeling his canines getting more protruded, itching to bite your neck and claim you, his eyes also getting brighter, his inner alpha waiting to take ownership over you. Strip you off the life you had before. Forcing you to subjugate, until the smallest cells in your body knew who you belonged to.
He didn't hold himself, of course, and your first mark soon made home above your collarbone, your souls locking together and the intimacy going to an extraordinary level when you reached the peak of pleasure in tandem, while his knot swelled and made you stuck together, stopping any drop of cum from going to waste.
Every single drop was forced to stay inside of you, and Damian lifted your almost limp head, you both drunk, still coming down from the waves of pleasure, and forced your lips against his neck, his scent gland, and you, whose omega and heat had taken over since the moment his cock invaded you, didn't hesitate to mark him back, locking the bond completely.
— Good omega, good omega…
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War prize.
Cregan Stark x Targaryen!reader
Summary: The North hates Cregan's wife and shows it rather harshly. Cregan is there to tell them off.
Warnings: violence, sexism, talks of losing virginity unwillingly, the poor reader just going through it😭
A/n: My writing is kinda eh on this one but I got it done which is all that matters. Huge italicized sections mean like a little flashback in case you needed to know that. Based on an ask!
Masterlist
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She watched her guard lock the door behind him.
How long had she been stuck in this castle?
She felt used. Taken as a trophy and nothing more. Purely a way to show status.
Purely a way to show who won the war.
Cregan Stark had won the war. And now she was his.
He was kind and caring, quick to compassion and slow to anger. If not for the others, she could've seen this as a happy marriage.
But the others made that impossible.
For the door was not locked to keep her in, but to keep others out.
Cregan saw the very actions his people tried against her, and he was concerned.
It didn't help that all of her dresses were green. A reminder of what had come to pass.
Anytime Cregan's back was turned, something happened to her. Whether it was harsh words, spitting at her feet, or even once a manhandling that almost turned into a mob.
Cregan knew she deserved better. She was kind. He hardly believed her to be a Hightower. At first glance that day in the Keep, he thought perhaps she was Aemond's wife, or another one of Aegon's whores he had always kept around.
But no. Aemond's twin sister.
…
He felt an overwhelming sense of protectiveness when two men threw the woman to the ground in front of him.
Her dress was torn in places. Her hair was tangled and dirt ran from her temple to her chin, clearly having been thrown around a lot. She wiped the falling tears from her face with bruised hands.
"What is this?" He asked the men. Others began to crowd around them to see what would become of her.
The men had only seen prostitutes along the path from the North to the Keep, and even those were few. Seeing a highborn lady was a rare sight.
"Found her hiding away," the man on her right commented.
Cregan sighed and reached down, pulling her chin up so he could look at her. He tipped her face from side to side, observing her. "And what did you hope I'd say when you threw a princess down at my feet? Did you expect me to reward you?"
The man paled. "Well, this is a traitor, my lord. Surely-"
"-Her only crime was the womb she was born from."
"She wears their colors still, Lord Stark-"
"Is she? I can hardly tell under the mud you've drug her through." He huffed, "I want you two out of my sight."
They looked at one another and nodded, moving to pick up the girl again. She jerked back in fear.
"Leave her," he grumbled. "Well? Be gone. All of you!"
Slowly, they filed out of the room. "Are you gravely injured?" He asked softly.
"Not particularly, my lord," she whimpered.
He sighed and bent at the knee, joining her on the ground. "Did any of them truly put their hands on you? More than to drag you here?"
She wiped her face again, "Are you hoping to take my innocence, my lord?"
A noise involuntarily left his throat. "What?"
"I… It is yours. Just please don't harm me," she sniffled.
Any motion he made to comfort her, he pulled away as if burned. "I'm not going to do that."
"No, no please don't leave me to them," she begged when he pulled away. "Please don't let them have me. I'll do anything."
"They won't have you," he tried again. "Nothing more is going to happen to you. Now, go get redressed and come back. You're not leaving my side until I get this situated."
…
After a few hours, Cregan unlocked the door and entered their shared chambers. "My love?"
He cursed under his breath when he noticed she had fallen asleep on the bed. He wouldn't have been so loud had he known.
He sat on the bed and brushed her hair from her face. "Wake up, dear wife."
She hummed in discontent.
His lips pulled into a thin line. Things had gone especially wrong lately and it had begun to show in her actions.
"C'mon." He began to pull her up.
She whined and began to lean into him, tucking her face into his neck.
He chuckled, "I have something for you."
Her eyes opened, "Oh, do you?"
…
There was outrage when Cregan took her as a wife. The North fought against the idea of having a Southern traitor as their Lady.
He had promised King Aegon III to be fair and just, and the boy said okay, knowing that he would stay honest to his word.
But the North hated her all the same.
Cregan never considered to fear for her safety, for she was the Warden's wife, and he thought the people would know better than to touch her.
That, and she hadn't told him of the things said right to her face when he wasn't around. She figured he knew.
They walked through the city, her arm in his as he showed her around. She took in every sight she could, entranced by the culture of the North.
But that also welcomed the stares.
Cregan had noticed them immediately, and he flipped her hood up. He didn't care about them, but he knew she would. So by doing so, he was hoping it would bring her a little more comfort.
Anyone in Westeros would recognize that silver hair.
He leaned down just a bit. "Just tell me when you grow tired or cold."
She nodded, "May I go explore?"
He smiled, "So eager to get away from me?"
"No," she corrects.
"I'm only jesting. Go on."
She grinned and began to look around, trying to decide where to go first.
"Don't wander off too far," he remarked as he moved towards a lord to chat.
She nodded and went, walking a little further down the road. She looked back occasionally to make sure she was still in his line of sight. In doing so, she bumped into a woman harshly.
Y/n pulled back and apologized. "Forgive me!"
The woman set her basket down and straightened her skirt. "Foolish girl. Watch where you step next time."
"I do apologize." She dug in her pocket, pulling out a few coins. "Here. For your trouble."
The woman's eyes widened. She pulled the coins from her hand accusingly. "Where did you get these?" She hissed.
"Well… I… just from…" she turned back to where she could see Cregan.
The woman grabbed her arm. "Did you steal these? Tell me where."
She jerked against the woman's movements. "No. No, I didn't."
"My lady, is this girl bothering you?" A tall man interfered, helping the woman.
The woman tilted her head, "She's throwing around coins like she's something of value. Look at 'er."
The man eyed her and reached up, pulling the princess' hood down. Their eyes widened.
She turned to try to catch Cregan's attention, but the man pulled her to him. "A Targaryen, eh? The usurper's bitch sister, aren't you?"
"Please let me go," she whimpered.
"A green traitor in Winterfell? Seems the rumors were right."
She tried to pull her arm away, "Unhand me."
"Shut it, traitor scum."
"CREGAN!" She yelled out of instinct.
Cregan's head snapped immediately, his heart dropping to his stomach. His eyes scanned the crowd, trying to find her amidst the people that had begun to gather. But he couldn't see her. His worry grew and he began to step out into the crowd in hope of finding her.
She fought against the man's grip. She remembered this feeling of helplessness from only weeks before. "Stop! Please… Please, I'll do anything! Just stop!"
Anyone around them was stopped now, onlooking or shouting at what was going on.
Cregan's jaw set as he figured she was in the midst of it, and he rolled his shoulders back.
"CREGAN!" He heard again, and that was all he needed.
He began to shove people to the side in an attempt to move through the mob that had begun to form. His angered shouts were drowned out.
Luckily, the Northern Warden was burly and built like a wall, so he was able to work through the crowd by sheer force alone.
Once towards the middle, he finally saw her.
The man held her tightly by her silver hair. Her hands were trying to lighten his harsh grip on her as she cried. She couldn't stop the others’ hands from pulling at her skirt or the way they spit at her, but she could at least try to stop the pain erupting from her scalp.
"ENOUGH!" Cregan yelled. He finally made it to them, and his hand gripped the man's throat tightly and he leaned down to his ear. "Unhand her."
She sunk to the ground and clutched at her dress.
Cregan kept his hand firm but looked out at the others that still surrounded them. "Leave." he growled through his teeth. "All of you." When no one moved, he threw the man to the ground and turned to them in rage. "LEAVE!"
One by one they left quietly. He looked down at the man. "May the gods have mercy on you, for I have none."
…
"Keep your eyes closed," he chuckled when she almost stumbled. "I've got you."
"How far must we go?"
"Almost there, I assure you."
After a while, he finally sat her down and instructed her to hold out her arms.
A heavy weight was placed in them. Something soft. Something moving.
"Open."
"A dire wolf?" Her eyes widened.
"Mere pup now, but a mighty predator later. I felt I owed you one."
She frowned, "You don't owe me a thing. I… I feel as if I owe you."
He couldn't stop a bright laugh from escaping his throat. "Hardly."
"Cregan," she began, trying to ignore the way the pup cuddled into her for warmth. "You have saved me time and time again. Without you, I would be in some brothel, or maimed by a man without heart, or…" her voice faltered, "Paraded through King's Landing as a true war prize. But I am not. I'm your wife instead. That is a fate I did not deserve."
"But I failed you. I promised to protect you, but I find that I cannot do that as well as I had hoped. This war was hard on my people. While I cannot fault them for their anger, it is wrong to use it on their Lady of Winterfell." His voice grew persistent. "You are mine. You are no Hightower anymore. You and I both know that."
She nodded and began to pet the wolf. "I pray that the North does one day."
"They will," he confirmed. "I shall make them if I must."
"I just don't want to be stuck in this room anymore. These walls are driving me mad," she admitted.
He sighed. "I'm sure they are. But soon you shall have a protector for when I cannot be there." He leaned down to pet the small pup on her lap. "This too will pass eventually."
"Once I give you an heir?"
"Once we have a child," he corrected, "I'm sure they shall be lighter on you."
"And until then?"
He smiled sweetly, "I'll do all I can. Now." He brushed hair from her face. "Please say you like it," he said as he looked down at the pup.
Only then did she let herself truly consider that she now had a dire wolf. "It's beautiful. I just…"
He held a finger up, "Enough of that. I promise you that I and this pup will not let another hand touch you."
She flushed lightly and smiled. "Thank you. I do not say that enough."
He shrugged. "You do, it just usually looks like other things instead."
"What do you mean?"
"Well," he looked down at her dress, "wearing the dress that I had made for you is a thank you in and of itself. Blue suits you well. I could name things for all eternity. You are a perfect wife. And I admire you greatly."
"You've only known me seven moons."
"And that is seven moons enough to know."
"Cregan, I am a trophy of your accomplishments."
"You are hardly that."
She sighed, "But that is what they see me as."
"Do I?"
She considered his question. "I don't believe so."
"Then does it matter? I respect you, and with time, I will make sure they do as well."
She nodded and adjusted the dog in her arms. "Very well. I trust you."
He smiled and stood. "That's all I ask for. Now, name your pup and dress for supper. I'll come collect you myself. Is that alright?"
She nodded again.
"The North will like you," he left off with as he closed the door behind him.
She heard the lock behind him.
In time.
In time.
Either they learn to like her, or they shall meet a Stark dire wolf closely.
The actual dire wolf or Cregan Stark, it didn't matter.
Their jaws would both equally snap at any threat.
.................................................
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#fanfiction#cregan stark x reader#game of thrones x reader#cregan stark x you#house of the dragon fanfiction#house of the dragon#cregan stark x y/n#game of thrones imagine#game of thrones fanfiction#game of thrones x y/n#game of thrones fic#house of the dragon fanfic#cregan stark imagine#cregan stark#cregan x reader#hotd cregan#cregan fanfiction#cregan stark x targaryen!reader#cregan stark x female reader#drew drools over cregan stark
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won't somebody come take me home? [Logan/Reader]
Summary: You've been abandoned to the Void after experiencing heartbreak in your universe. Instead of becoming food for Alioth or one of Cassandra's underlings, you find a new family with the resistance seeking to bring her down. When Johnny doesn't come back to the hideout, you keep watch in the hopes of seeing his return. Instead, you find a Deadpool variant fighting someone who looks achingly familiar. Someone who reminds you of your old life and the person who broke your heart. When you finally come face to face with a Logan after being pruned from your universe, you're not expecting the longing you're met with or the fact that in his universe, you were his wife. Word Count: 7.7k Author's Note: I've wanted to write for X-Men for so long and then I saw Deadpool and Wolverine and fell in love with Logan all over again. If you like this, please let me know! I'm so nervous about writing for a new fandom. And if you want to see more X-Men stuff from me, please let me know that as well! Reader's song for this is definitely I'm With You by Avril Lavigne, but I kind of imagine Logan's ends up being Hanging By a Moment by Lifehouse.
closer to where I started // all the smiles that are ever gonna haunt me
Read on AO3
Everyone in the Void had a tragic backstory that was befitting a hero or villain or anything in between. You were the ones who were lost, abandoned, or forgotten by your worlds and the people you cared about more than anyone else.
You didn't remember much about how you got to the Void, but you had a pretty good understanding of why you were dropped into the barren wasteland for the multiverse's landfill.
Like most people in the Void, you were here because of heartbreak. The one person you had loved with your entire being had loved someone else. You had given him your all, but he only gave you a piece of himself. And when he ripped that piece of himself away, leaving you aching and broken, you were swept out like unwanted trash and right into the Void.
"What's got you so down today, ma chérie?" Remy dropped down into the chair at your side.
You huffed out a laugh that was nowhere near amused. "Besides the fact that we're all stuck here and trying to avoid Cassandra and her wandering fingers?" You brought your hand up and wriggled them in Remy's face, reluctantly letting out a laugh when he snapped his teeth at them.
"Ah, there's that smile," he mused, bumping his shoulder into yours. "You thinkin' 'bout your old life?"
You rolled your eyes, inanely feeling your throat tighten as you fought the urge to cry. You kept your gaze on the bottle of whiskey on the table. Remy reached for it, but he met resistance and turned a glare on you.
You shrugged your shoulders before dropping the forcefield. "I had a dream about him last night," you admitted with a scowl. "About what happened and how no one on my team had my back. How they all thought it was inevitable." You snorted before you quickly grabbed the bottle and took a swig, relishing the burn that traveled down your throat and sent warmth pulsing through your chest. You handed it over to Remy, ignoring his obvious annoyance.
"Listen, you're a lot better off now than you were with those fuckers," he consoled as he finally wrapped his hand around the bottle. "But don't go gettin' between me and my drink, now," he warned, his eyes briefly flashing red before fading away. "I'm not like those assholes who abandoned you. You've got nothin' to hate me for."
"You're real shit at pep talks, you know that?" Johnny cut in, knocking into Remy as he walked by. "Leave Y/N alone. She doesn't want to put up with your bullshit right now."
"And you suppose she wants to put up with yours? All you've got is bullshit," Remy taunted, idly twirling a card between his fingers. It was half a threat, but Johnny would only fight fire with fire and Remy knew it. Elektra had forbidden both of them from using their powers in the hideout, since they had almost burned it down last time.
"Will you both just stop?" You groaned, letting your head hit the table. Someone reached out to pat you on the shoulder, but you didn't bother to look and see who did it. "I love and respect you both dearly, but if you leave another scorch mark in here, then we'll all be in trouble."
Remy obediently stowed the card back up his sleeve while Johnny rolled his eyes.
"Yeah, whatever," he sighed before making for the door. “See you later.”
"Where are you going?" You called, watching him retreat.
"I'll be around," Johnny answered, shooting you a smirk over his shoulder. "I always come back, don't I?"
You didn't get a chance to respond before he was gone. You always worried about Johnny when he went on his little trips around the Void. He swore he would be careful not to run into any of Cassandra's goons, but you knew all of your days were limited. Whether it was Alioth or Cassandra or one of the many rogue Deadpools wandering around, it was only a matter of time before trouble found you.
Remy stood up and placed the half-empty bottle of whiskey in front of you. "Just this once," he allowed with a wink. "You appreciate that, though, you hear?"
"Thanks," you muttered before reaching for the bottle.
You spent the rest of the day trying to block out the dream while you trained with Laura.
You were so caught up in your own thoughts that you didn't realize you had company.
"Damn, what's got you so riled up?"
You turned to look at Eric, surprised to see him standing there. You then realized your knuckles had split open and you had trashed the makeshift punching bag you had made out of an old blanket and some sand.
"Nothing," you deflected, half-tempted to go invisible just so no one could see you. Even though he was wearing sunglasses, you knew you had his full attention and you didn't want another lecture on leaving your past behind.
No one on your team was good at that, but you were arguably the worst at letting your pain go.
You always hated when you dreamt about Logan. His last words to you echoing in your mind over and over. You hadn't been enough for him, but Jean? Jean was everything he wanted. You supposed your powers paled in comparison and you would never measure up when all you could do was conjure forcefields and become invisible. Logan had been in love with her from the first moment he laid eyes on her, but you had never seen that look on his face when he looked at you.
It was a pity that you had given Logan everything only to be cast aside for the one who truly held his heart.
If Johnny were there, he would have told Blade to mind his own business, but he still hadn't come back.
"Again," Laura prompted, drawing your attention towards the punching bag. It was half-demolished, but you figured you still had some fight in you.
You noticed her shake her head at Eric as you turned away and focused all your hurt into your fists, watching the bag fall apart.
Johnny hadn't returned by the next morning and you were starting to worry.
You considered everyone your family, but you had a special bond with Johnny. He had been the first person to welcome you to the resistance and you, specifically your powers, had reminded him of his sister. He opened up to you about how much he missed his team, his family, and you told him about the heartbreak you had endured in your universe.
"I'll tell you what, if I ever get my hands on your Logan, I'll light the fucker on fire."
You felt a laugh bubble out of you. It was the first time you had laughed in ages and it felt so good to know you could still find joy in things. "He'd just regenerate."
"Not when I'm done with him," Johnny promised. "I'll cook him 'til he's just a heap of ash and then you'll dance on his remains."
You shook your head, but let Johnny carry on with his elaborate plan for revenge on your behalf. Johnny would never meet your Logan and you knew you would never actually see him again. Everyone in the Void was forgotten and there was no escape.
"You worried about Johnny?" Elektra wondered, coming to stand at your side.
You were keeping an eye on the horizon, searching for any sign that Johnny was coming home.
"It's not like him to be gone this long without some kind of message he's okay.
"He's gotten this far, hasn't he?" Elektra pointed out, shooting you a reassuring look. "He'll be fine."
You nodded your head, but didn't budge from your spot.
"You plan on staying out here all night?" Elektra asked.
"If I have to," you admitted with a shrug of your shoulders. "What if he's in trouble?"
"Then you won't be any help to him sleep-deprived," she answered.
"I've had worse," you deflected with a forced grin.
Elektra sighed, but didn't try to dissuade you again.
You had a pair of binoculars Laura had scavenged and you were doing your best to keep an eye on your surroundings. You were surveying a forest when something caught your attention. You focused on the sight, wondering for a moment if Elektra had been right and sleep deprivation was messing with your mind.
You pulled the binoculars away and blinked a few times before looking through them again.
"Ah fuck," you groaned when you realized that what you were seeing was real.
"What's wrong?" Laura asked, startling you.
"Shit," you hissed, nearly dropping the binoculars. You handed them over and pointed towards what previously held your attention. "You see that?"
"Is that--?" Laura cut herself off before shooting you a disbelieving look. "It's him."
"With a Deadpool," you confirmed with a nod of your head.
"We should get them before someone else does," Laura suggested, handing the binoculars back to you.
You hesitated, knowing she was right, but hating the idea of seeing him again.
"I can go alone," Laura offered. You knew she also loved her Logan, but he had been like a father to her up until his final moments. Your Logan had managed to bring you nothing but pain and insecurity.
"No," you told her with a firm shake of your head. Johnny had gone off alone and now it had been almost two days since the last time you saw him. In the Void, that was as good as a death sentence. "I'll go with you."
You let the others know you were off to rescue two new recruits to the resistance and helpfully left out the fact that one of those people was a Logan variant.
Laura led the way and you followed in her tracks. You kept yourself invisible, knowing that if anyone came after Laura, then you could use your presence as a surprise. You had also learned to use your forcefields as a weapon as much as a defense and you were ready if anyone tried to attack.
Once you got to the station wagon, you let yourself become visible again. You slowly approached the car while Laura investigated the clearing for any signs that you might have been followed. You could see the Deadpool variant wrapped up in the seatbelts, but you couldn't help but let your focus stray to Logan.
He was different from your Logan, but seeing his face hurt all the same. Your Logan had taken everything from you and given nothing back except for pain. This Logan was a stranger, but he still brought up familiar feelings. Love and confusion and agony.
"Is he yours?" Laura wondered, finally joining you in your study of Logan.
"No," you assured her. "Mine would've never been caught dead in the yellow suit," you admitted with just the tiniest hint of relief. You never wanted to see your Logan again, but you couldn't help but admit to yourself that didn't mean you never wanted to see any other Logan. You were scared, terrified of the pain he might cause you, but you hadn't been able to let go of the love you held for him. You were sure, even in that moment, that you would love Logan in every universe. It was too bad he wouldn't love you just the same.
Although, you supposed you didn't really have a Logan. You never did, since the one from your universe was never yours in the first place.
Doubt and wariness began to creep in and you started to herd Laura towards the Honda you were half-sure belonged to the Nicepool variant. "You drive," you prompted, opening the passenger door seat and carefully sitting among the wreckage and blood that was practically painted on every surface of the car.
Laura started the car and you glanced over your shoulder, waiting for the two backseat occupants to stir, but they were both still knocked out.
"They really did a number on each other," you muttered, your gaze already back on Logan.
Laura was silent for long enough that you thought she was ignoring you. "It's not your Logan," she reminded you after a couple of minutes. You realized you were still watching him and finally forced yourself to turn around in your seat.
"It's not," you confirmed, studying your hands in your lap. You let them shift in and out of visibility, a nervous habit you had when you were torn between fight and flight.
"Then he's not the one who hurt you," she continued, keeping her focus on the path in front of you.
"He's not the one who saved you," you shot back. The way she looked at this Logan like she was seeing her savior miraculously alive all over again had felt like a punch in the gut. You were both mourning and the source of it had just dropped right back into your lives. "He might be worse," you pointed out.
"He might be better," she argued with a quick glance at you. "He might not even know us."
"Yeah," you sighed, reaching out to place a hand on her shoulder, silently apologizing for being so defensive. "Eric's right," you conceded with a grimace. "I need to let it go."
"Hard to let something like that go," she allowed with a soft smile at you. She was the only one who knew the full story. Johnny knew most of it and the others knew enough, but Laura had loved her own Logan like family. She knew what it was like to lose him, albeit in a very different way.
When you got back to the hideout, Laura helped free Deadpool while you formed a forcefield around Logan and used it to lift him out of the car. Charles had claimed it was a form of telekinesis, but you always told him you were just controlling the forcefield. Whatever was inside it just happened to move with it. If you dropped the forcefield, then whatever was inside it would fall.
Laura dragged Deadpool inside while you let Logan hover through the air and into the hideout. Laura left Deadpool on the floor, but you were careful with Logan and let him hover just over the bed you used before letting him go.
Laura shot you a bemused look before going to let the others know you had company.
You weren't really sure what to do with yourself, so you settled for pacing from one end of the room to the other. You were halfway across the room when you heard a rustling noise behind you. You half-hoped it was Deadpool waking up, but when you turned around, it was to see Logan squinting up at the ceiling.
You froze, not daring to move a muscle. Logan blinked a few times before he began to sit up. He stopped and then tilted his head up, sniffing the air. You had always found the way he used his enhanced sense of smell adorable, even if no one else did. He suddenly turned and buried his face in your pillow, pulling in deep breaths. He reached up to clutch the pillow in his hand as he sat up, keeping it pressed to his face.
You weren't even really sure what was going on, so by the time he finally lowered the pillow and met your gaze, you were staring at him completely dumbstruck.
Several emotions warred for control on Logan's face when he saw you. Grief, despair, heartbreak, hope, disbelief, and relief. Finally, he seemed to pull them all together into a neutral expression.
"Y/N," he started, taking a step towards you.
You instinctively took a step back. You knew that this Logan wasn't the one who hurt you, but it was hard to let all of that go when someone who looked exactly like your Logan was staring right at you.
"You're alive," he tried again, taking another step, as if he was drawn to you.
"I am," you answered, your hands clenched into fists at your side. You couldn't handle the way Logan was looking at you. He looked at you like you were his whole world. You would have killed to get your Logan to look at you like that. But having it now, from a different Logan, felt equal parts thrilling and unsettling. "Who am I to you?" You asked, needing to know what you were dealing with now. You had assumed maybe you were part of Logan's team in his universe, but he was hopelessly in love with Jean and didn't give a fuck about you. The way he was looking at you told an entirely different story.
"You're--," he started before he looked down at his left hand. You could see a wedding band around his ring finger. "You're my wife," he finally admitted as he balled his hand into a fist. "You were, at least," he added with a grimace. "And me? What am I to you in your universe?"
You didn't know whether to tell the truth or lie. But Logan had always known you way too well and any story you spun would unravel as you told it. "I loved you," you finally confessed. "But you left me for someone else," you continued, noting the way Logan's expression tightened, rage flashing in his eyes.
"Who?" He growled, advancing on you.
It was your biggest shame and worst heartbreak, so you faltered over the name for a moment. But you weren't even in the same universe as her or him anymore and it was time for you to stop running from your pain.
"Jean. He left me for Jean, alright? It didn't matter that I loved him and it didn't matter that we were together. Scott died and Jean needed someone and apparently that couldn't be anyone but him. He told me it was nothing, but I knew. He never looked at me the way you just did. He looked at her like she was the only person he cared about and when he left me for her, I ended up here," you hissed, finally walking towards Logan. "And I bet neither of them ever gave a fuck that I just up and disappeared. So, seeing you now has brought up all the shit he put me through," you snarled, reaching out to push at his shoulder.
"Y/N, I--," he started, reaching out for you. His expression was nearly reverent as he let his hand fall on your shoulder.
"Don't," you said, pushing away from him. "I'm not your wife," you snapped, hating the way his expression closed off and was replaced with that look he got when he was trying not to feel anything at all.
"And I'm not him," he shot back. His gaze drifted to the side and he reached out to grab a bottle of Remy's whiskey. He popped the top off the bottle and took a long swig.
You heard someone groan before you looked over at Deadpool. He brought a hand up to his head and Logan turned to watch him. He took another drink, keeping the bottle close to his chest, as he approached Wade.
"Ugh, what's with the angry bear staring me down?" Wade wondered, finally sitting up. "Also, where the hell are we? Are we about to be skinned and used as decoration for some post-apocalyptic lair?"
"Do you ever shut up?" Logan growled, taking another drink.
You knew it took a lot to get Logan drunk, but at the rate he was going, he would end up there by nightfall.
Deadpool finally scanned the room and noticed you. He got to his feet and pointed a finger at you. "Oh, holy shit. You're Y/N! You're a big part of this guy's tragic backstory, I can tell ya that, so what are you doing here?" Wade reached out to clap a hand to Logan's shoulder and got brushed off.
"That's enough!" Elektra called before walking into the room.
Wade looked shocked to see Elektra, but his eyes went wide at the sight of Blade striding into the room. Gambit then made his entrance before Laura took up the rear of the group.
Introductions went around, before Wade started in on Gambit and his accent. You could tell Remy was reluctantly amused, but he was distracted by something else.
Remy dismissed Wade and focused in on Logan. He shot you a quick, concerned look before he began flipping a card as he studied Logan. "Well, we've never had a Wolverine up in here before. Not sure we've ever wanted one here before," he said with another look at you. "I can tell you now it's just a common courtesy to at least ask before you go drinking up all my liquor."
"It's a good thing I don't give a fuck," Logan responded before taking another drink.
Remy's eyes burned red as he muttered an insult under his breath. He let the card in his hand go, letting it slice the bottle of liquor in half. Glass and whiskey rained down on Logan's boots, but he looked unbothered. He reached out to grab another bottle before pulling the top off and taking a drink.
"Oh, you sure are an asshole, aren't you? I'm starting to see why you hate this one," Remy continued, aiming the last sentence at you.
"You hate him?" Wade asked, whipping his head back and forth, from you to Logan and back again. Wade gasped and turned to point an accusing finger at Logan. "You and you," he pointed to you, "aren't a you in your universe?" He pressed his hands together, letting his fingers interlock. "What'd he do? Was he too busy practicing his brooding in the mirror? He try to slip you a little adamantium surprise in the bedroom? Did he--"
"Shut up," Logan snapped, tightening his grip on the bottle in his hand.
"You don't know what the fuck you're talking about," you admonished Wade.
Wade held his hands up in surrender, but he reached out to put a hand on Logan's shoulder. "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, my friend," he consoled before he approached you. He held his arms out as he walked towards you. "Come here, baby bird, and tell Papa Deadpool all about it," he said as he wrapped his arms around you.
"Get your hands off her," Logan growled, unsheathing his claws.
You brought a forcefield up between you and Wade. It was big enough to encompass his chest and abdomen and you used it to forcefully push him back. You slammed him into the wall, easing up, just to slam him into it again.
"Alright, alright," he coughed out, holding his hands up in surrender. "Don't piss off the Invisible Woman, got it," he conceded as you let your forcefield drop.
You rolled your eyes before crossing your arms over your chest. "That's not what they call me." The reminder of Johnny's sister brought up the worry you had for him. "Where the hell did you two come from?"
Wade did most of the talking and explained about the TVA, Cassandra, and their near-miss with Alioth.
"No one's ever made it out of Cassandra's clutches before," Elektra observed with something verging on respect in her tone.
"No one alive," Eric interjected with an unimpressed glare at Deadpool.
"Well, she is quite terrifying and a little grabby," Wade allowed with a nod of his head.
"One of ours has been missing for two days," you told Wade, carefully not looking at Logan. Logan had been watching you the whole time and you knew he was only mourning a ghost, but you hated how much you liked finally having Logan's undivided attention. "His name is Johnny. Did you see him?"
"The little flameball might've made an appearance, sure, but he's not with us," Wade explained with a flippant wave of his hand.
"Yeah, because you fucking got him killed with your big mouth," Logan snapped at Wade.
"Johnny's dead?" You asked, not wanting to believe it. You loved the others like family, but Johnny had practically been a brother to you. Sure, he let his mouth get him in trouble half the time, but he always managed to get himself out of it. "What the hell happened?"
"Cassandra decided she liked his insides on the outside," Wade answered, "because she's a megalomaniacal, psychotic asshole. Johnny’s words, not mine."
"Well, we've all been knowin' that," Remy said, idly shuffling a deck of cards in his hands. "But what're we gonna do about her, huh? She's got an army and we've just got us."
"Look, you've all been forgotten by your universes, but we can still take her if we team up. You got a Magneto here?" Wade questioned, hope in his voice that you knew was about to be crushed.
You moved to sit down at the table while you listened to the conversation carry on. There was a lot happening all at once and you didn’t know how to process any of it. Wade was desperate to get back to his own timeline, but Logan only seemed resigned. You didn't know how to accept the fact that Johnny was dead and you didn't know how to ignore the fact that Logan was still watching you.
When a plan was made to go after Cassandra and use Juggernaut's helmet to block her powers, you reluctantly agreed that it had some merit. If only because you wanted to get any type of revenge on Cassandra that you could to avenge Johnny.
The others were all on board and you knew most of them wanted nothing more than to bring Cassandra down as well. It was a suicide mission for most of you, but you figured if it meant stopping Cassandra and saving someone's universe, even if that someone was Wade Wilson, then it might be worth it.
"I'm in," you found yourself saying.
"Like hell you are," Logan cut in. "You'll just get yourself killed again and I can't--"
"I'm not dead," you pointed out, aware that the others were watching the pair of you. "I'm right here, because I'm not the one you lost."
"Well, I sure as hell don't want to go losing you again. You can't tell me you think this whackjob's plan is actually going to work out? He’s an idiot."
“Sticks and stones,” Wade muttered, rocking on his heels as he looked at Logan. “Sticks and stones.”
"You can do whatever you want," you told Logan, finally standing from your seat at the table. "But I'm going and if I die? Then at least I die doing something that's not just hiding and waiting for my inevitable end. At least I can help someone, even if it's a Deadpool," you said, gesturing towards Wade.
"Thanks?" Wade tried, sounding torn between flattered and insulted.
You didn't give Logan a chance to reply, because you left the room, opting to walk outside to get some distance from him.
Later, you heard from Remy that you were heading out first thing in the morning. You agreed to be ready by then and spent the rest of the evening invisible. You wanted to be alone, but you also hated the idea of losing one last opportunity to talk to Logan, even if he wasn't yours.
He was outside, staring into the fire he started, and steadily drinking Remy's liquor. You approached him as Laura was leaving his side. Even though you were still invisible, she seemed to know you were there, and walked around you.
You stayed a few feet behind him, watching him frown into the fire.
"I know you're there," Logan called out, turning to look over his shoulder. "You were never good at hiding from me."
You let yourself go visible before you continued to walk towards him. "My Logan didn't really give a shit about me, so I guess he knew where to find me, he just didn't care," you observed with a sigh. Having this Logan around was only showing you what you had missed out on in your universe with your Logan. You reached out to grab the bottle from Logan before taking a drink and handing it back. "You know, I wanted nothing more than for him to love me back. But I wasn't enough for him. And he knew, he knew everything I felt for him, but he never felt the same. I was just someone to warm his bed while his thoughts were with someone else."
Logan was quiet for a few moments before he held the bottle back out to you.
"You've made it clear you're not my wife," he started, keeping his gaze on the fire. "But I don't think you get that I'm not him. I see you and, God, I wish I could keep you safe. I wasn't able to save her. I wasn't able to save any of them and it's my fault my team, my family, my wife are all gone. I walked away and they died because of it," he admitted and you could see a tear begin to slip down his cheek. You had never seen your Logan so vulnerable and you didn't know what to do with this one. "I don't want to lose you again. I know you're not her, but I don't want to walk away and know that you died because of it."
"Then don't walk away," you whispered, moving until you were right beside him. You could feel the heat emanating off him and it sent a shiver down your spine. You had felt the chilling sense of isolation for so long that feeling Logan again felt like you were coming back to life.
"I know I wasn't happy to see you," you allowed with a grimace. "But since you got here, you've done nothing but remind me that I could have had what I wanted all along, but I was stuck in the wrong damn universe. And maybe it was possible for my Logan to love me all along and I just wasn't enough."
"Your Logan is a fucking idiot," he growled, finally looking at you. "You're here in this shithole because of him and you're ready to sacrifice yourself for someone you don't even know. He was the one who wasn't good enough. I guess I'm more like him than I would want to be."
You took a chance and reached out to grab Logan's hand. You were both grieving different people and you knew you weren't his wife, but you wanted to offer him comfort all the same. You also couldn't deny that the feeling of Logan's hand in yours felt like a balm for the pain you had been carrying around since falling into the Void.
His hand tightened around yours and you saw some of the tension leave his shoulders.
"You're enough, Logan," you assured him. "And I believe in you," you confessed. "You don't have to go tomorrow, but I'm going to be there. And if this is the last moment I ever get with you, then there's one thing I want to do."
Logan furrowed his brow in confusion before his expression smoothed out into surprise. You had leaned forward, just barely letting your lips brush his, waiting for him to either lean in or push you away.
You waited for a beat longer, sure you were making an idiot of yourself, before you felt Logan's hand at your hip. He pulled you closer, practically into his lap, as he returned the kiss. It was passionate and tender and in turns aggressive and searching. His tongue was twined around yours and his teeth were nipping at your lips and your head was beginning to spin from the rush. Logan let out a whimper and his hand clutched your hip tighter, and you knew you were going to have a bruise there by the next morning, but you didn’t mind that there would be a reminder of this moment.
You reluctantly pulled away, meeting his eyes and noticing how Logan looked like he was ready to drag you back into another kiss.
"Thank you," you whispered, reaching up a hand to brush your thumb over his bottom lip. You let it drag down briefly and leaned forward to press a chaste kiss to it. Your Logan had been rough and demanding and uncaring, but the love and want this Logan had poured into the kiss had shown you what it would have been like for the love of your life to love you back. Maybe, with that memory, your death the next day would be a little sweeter.
"Y/N," Logan started, but didn't continue.
You offered him a sad smile and started to stand. "I should try to sleep. I've got a big day tomorrow."
You moved to leave, but Logan reached out and grabbed your hand. He reeled you back towards him, causing you to drop down into his lap, but he caught you by the hips. He wrapped his arms around your waist and trailed his hand up your back before it was resting against the back of your neck. He pulled you down into another kiss, this one just as intense, but less frenzied. Logan kept you in place with just the slightest pressure of his hand on your neck and you let him pour everything he had into it.
By the time you pulled away, you were breathless and speechless, reluctant to leave now that you had another taste of him.
"I'll see you in the morning," Logan promised, finally releasing you from his hold.
It took you while to shake off your daze, but then you realized what he was telling you.
You felt a smile tug at your lips before you got off his lap.
"See you in the morning," you agreed before leaving Logan in search of your bed.
The drive in the Honda Odyssey was cramped, but Wade insisted if it could house an all-night brawl between a Deadpool and a Wolverine, then it would hold the rest of you just fine all the way to Cassandra's lair. And then he started spouting off something about safety features and cup holders and you started to wonder if following his plan had been the dumbest thing you had ever done.
You found yourself sneaking glances at Logan at the rear of the car. He was watching you the whole time and every time your eyes met, a little spark of heat shot through you. Maybe he wasn't your Logan, but he had helped you begin to heal all the same. And now you were starting to fall for an entirely different Logan who was likely leaving the Void while you stayed behind and died to get him out.
Life had never been fair to you, but you hated that it was downright cruel to you as well.
By the time you were arriving at Cassandra’s, you were starting to wonder if there had ever been a happy ending for you in store or if it was just supposed to be one tragedy after another.
You lined up with the others as you faced down Cassandra's henchmen. You could see Azazel popping in and out of view and Psylocke trailing through the crowd. Juggernaut was staring down the group while Toad perched high above, a smirk on his face. There were dozens of them and you had no idea how you were going to pull it off, but even if you did die, at least it was to save someone's universe, even if it wasn't your own.
"You know how long I've been waiting for this? Ooohuee, I'm about to make a name for myself here," Remy boasted, eagerly bouncing on his feet while he began to charge a card.
"I don't think any of you walk away from this," Logan pointed out, sending a quick glance your way.
"You just make sure they know what happened here today," Remy continued, not seeming to care that he was staring death right in the face.
"We'll watch your six," Blade told Logan and Wade. "You get up there and we'll get you that helmet."
Before he could follow Wade, Logan turned to you and pulled you close. He pressed a kiss to your lips, one full of longing and grief. "I don't want to leave you," he murmured into the kiss.
You pulled back to meet his eyes, ignoring the fact that you felt like you were losing him all over again. "What you're fighting for is more important," you told him. "Maybe we'll meet again in another universe."
"Maybe," he agreed before kissing you again.
This one was brief, but it left you wanting more.
You watched Logan follow Wade before you were caught up in the fight between your friends and Cassandra's lackies.
The fight was terrifying, because the stakes were so high. You flickered in and out of visibility as needed and used your forcefields to protect your friends or attack your enemies. You used a forcefield to gather rocks and then propelled it into someone just to turn invisible to avoid someone's knife.
You were exhausted as the battle waged on and you knew that circumstances were beginning to look dire for you and your friends. Most of you were hurt and bleeding, and the fight was beginning to drain out of you.
You got distracted by Laura taking Juggernaut out and managing to get his helmet up to where Logan and Wade were no doubt dealing with Cassandra despite Psylocke intervening. You moved towards them, but you felt a searing pain in your side and you looked down to see the end of Azazel’s tail sticking through your flesh.
He jerked you back towards him and a blade sliced through his tail, freeing you. You were quick to form a forcefield around Azazel before he could escape and you began to press in on the sides, shrinking it down so he had nowhere to go. You could see him trying to teleport out, but it wasn’t working, and a look of panic flashed across his face.
You kept pressing in until his skin started to split and blood began to pour. All at once, you swept the sides in, watching as Azazel was crushed. You let the forcefield go and watched as his remains fell to the ground with a splat.
“You squashed him like a bug,” Eric observed with a nod of his head, cleaning Azazel’s blood off his blade. “Impressive.”
“Thanks,” you smiled at Blade, glancing down at the gash in your side.
“Keep your head,” he warned you just as someone rushed at you. You went invisible and stepped to the side, letting them impale themselves on Eric’s sword.
The battle took twists and turns, but after getting stabbed in the shoulder and nearly losing consciousness when someone hit you on the back of the head, you realized that the bodies were starting to drop, but your friends were still standing.
You figured your victory would be short-lived when the skies began to darken and Alioth showed on the horizon.
“He’s looking for a meal,” Elektra grunted, avoiding a hit to the side before using one of her twin sais to bring someone to their knees. She finished them off with a strike to their neck before she turned to look at the rest of you. “We need to get the hell out of here.”
You were distracted by a portal opening up in the air above you and you looked up in time to see Logan and Wade jumping through it.
Someone grabbed your arm and you instinctively moved to hit them, but you realized it was Elektra.
"Come on!" She yelled over the roar of Alioth and pulled you to cover inside Cassandra's lair.
"That was a close one," Remy said as he helped Blade into the makeshift shelter.
"But they got away," Laura pointed out with a small, satisfied smile.
"And we got to kill the fuckers that've been making our lives hell," Remy added with a grin. "Any of you see that one trick I pulled? I got the cards charged up and then guy went boom."
He looked so pleased with himself that you couldn’t stop the helpless little laugh you let out. The past few days had felt absurd and surreal, and you couldn’t even tell if it was all some fever dream. Maybe Remy had spiked his liquor to keep unsuspecting people out of it and you were currently back in the hideout, riding out one terrifying trip.
But when you twisted to the side, you felt like your side was splitting open all over again and you let out a gasp. Elektra knelt at your side, studying your wound with a frown.
"So, what happens now? Are we just stuck here until we know it's clear? We go back to our hideout and wait forever? Half of us need some kind of medical attention,” she pointed out, searching around her until she found a discarded jacket. She pressed it against your side and you let out a hiss of pain.
"Well, we didn't die, so at least there’s that," you offered with a shrug of your shoulders. "I figure we've earned some retirement. Even if we're still stuck here," you allowed with a wince as you pressed a hand to your shoulder. The wound was deep and still bleeding, but you figured you had suffered worse before. You were going to need stitches and painkillers and some more of Remy’s liquor, but at least you were still breathing.
You weren't sure how long you waited for the storm to pass, but by the time you got back outside, it was already dark. Most of the bodies were gone, consumed by Alioth, and you leaned into Elektra’s side as she helped you navigate the various body parts left behind.
"Think the car will make it back?" Remy wondered, surveying the Odyssey with its crushed sides and flat tires. It was practically drenched in blood and viscera, nearly indistinguishable as a vehicle.
"Why don't you start it up and see?" Eric prompted, looking at Gambit like he thought he was a special kind of stupid. “Maybe we can ride one of your little cards back to the hideout. How far can you throw them?”
"That won't be necessary," a voice interrupted, startling you.
A portal had opened up to your left and a woman had walked through it. She had soldiers behind her who were wearing uniforms with a TVA logo stamped on the right arm.
"Wade Wilson struck a deal for all of you," the woman continued, surveying the group. "It's time for all of you to go home."
“Home?” Remy repeated with a skeptical look at the rest of you. “What if we don’t have a home?”
“Then wherever you’d like to be,” she amended. “With conditions, of course.”
It turned out that Wade and Logan not only saved Wade's universe, but every universe. Cassandra had wanted nothing to exist except for the Void where she reigned and both of them had managed to stop her.
You never considered that your fight with Cassandra’s minions wound end with anything except for your death. You certainly never thought you would have the option to leave the Void.
You definitely didn't want to return home, so you asked if you could stay in Wade's universe. Logan and Laura had opted to stay as well and since your variant had never been born in Wade’s universe, you were welcome to stay. It felt like you were getting the opportunity to carve out the kind of life you wanted all along. One where you knew you would be welcome and wanted without fearing that you would be abandoned for someone else.
Now, you were sitting around a table with Wade's family and the beginnings of a new one for you. Laura was sitting to your left and Logan to your right and you couldn't help but feel like this was where you had belonged all along.
Logan had admitted that he wasn't allowed to try to save the people in his universe, but he wanted to be whatever you needed or wanted him to be in your new one. You knew that was a daunting order for someone like Logan, so you settled for telling him that you wanted to start at the beginning.
You wanted to get to know this Logan, because even though you already loved him, you knew that you wanted a clean slate. One where you weren’t comparing him to your universe’s Logan and one where you gave him every opportunity to show you that he was better. You also didn’t want him to just see the ghost of his wife in you, so you wanted him to get to know you.
You soaked up the love and laughter that flowed through the room and met Logan's gaze. You weren't even surprised to see that he was already watching you. You reached out to grab his hand, delighting in the way he immediately welcomed your touch.
You no longer felt forgotten and hopeless. Everything you had yearned for, fought for, in your old life had quite literally dropped right into your new one and you couldn't have been more grateful for another shot at happiness.
From the way Logan smiled at you and brought your hand up to kiss the back of it, you knew he was just as appreciative at the opportunity to turn his life back around.
"Thank you," you whispered to him, leaning over to rest your head on his shoulder.
"Nothing to thank me for," he answered before dropping another kiss on the crowd of your head.
You wanted to argue with him and tell him that he had saved you, but you figured you would tell him later. For now, you were going to enjoy the feeling of belonging you felt and look forward to the fact that there would be a later with Logan.
Edited To Add: I am writing a sequel! It's going to involve Cable (even though he didn't test well) and Logan getting payback on reader's original Wolverine on her behalf and a whole bunch of other fun surprises!! If you want to be tagged, just let me know!
The sequel is HERE for anyone interested!
This is now a whole series! Main post for the series is HERE.
#deadpool and wolverine#wolverine x reader#logan x reader#deadpool#wolverine#reader insert#marvel#marvel imagine#logan#logan howlett imagine#logan howlett#wolverine imagine#x men#my fic#x reader#imagine#marvel x reader#spoilers#when i'm with you i'm home 'verse
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Sleep
lando norris x fem reader
summary: You always had a hard time falling asleep, but it seems like all you need is Lando to give you a little help. (1k words)
warnings: language, fluff
a/n: this is just a little something i wrote when, of course, i couldn't fall asleep. i hope you like it! also, i don't know why these are so short; i'm really trying to write longer fics. anyway, please send some requests!
↺ back to navigation— send me a request!
You were not sure how long it had been, but it felt like you had been tossing and turning for hours. You opened your eyes for a moment to make sure it was still dark outside, letting out a sigh of relief when you confirmed it was.
You forced your eyes closed again, getting closer to your boyfriend, hoping his warmth would relax you enough to make you fall asleep. But, of course, that wasn’t the case.
It was like this sometimes—actually more often than not. You never had the best relationship with sleep, your mind forcing you to stay wide awake until the sun was peeking through your window.
You opened your eyes again, finding the clock that rested on your nightstand. 2:40 AM. “Fuck,” you thought to yourself. Slowly, you started to kick the covers and get off the bed. You tried to be as quiet as possible, knowing you couldn’t wake up your boyfriend. You knew how exhausting it was to travel as much as he did, as well as how much his job wore him down; he needed to sleep.
You looked back at your bed before carefully opening the door, admiring how peaceful and pretty Lando looked as he slept, his breathing slow and calm. Then, you finally exited the room and closed the door behind you.
A cup of tea always made you feel better, even if it didn't necessarily help you sleep. You hoped it would happen tonight, though.
As you gathered everything you needed for it, your mind started to wander. A lot of things flooded your mind, but mainly what you needed to do before leaving for the next race, mentally making a list of what you had to pack.
You were so distracted that you didn't notice the milk carton falling off the counter until you heard the loud noise it made when it hit the ground. Although the noise wasn't particularly loud, the silence in your shared apartment was so intense that even the sound of a hairpin falling could be deafening. You quickly bent down to pick it up, stopping it from spilling completely.
Before finding something to clean up with, you stayed still for a moment, looking back at the hallway and mentally praying you didn't wake Lando up. When you didn’t hear anything, you proceeded to clean up the mess, relieved that you didn’t disturb his sleep.
You continued preparing your tea, and when you were finally done, you took a sip to make sure it was good enough. It wasn’t, but you didn’t feel like starting from scratch, so you just made your way to the couch.
A few minutes went by, and you were just scrolling on TikTok, your hand still holding the hot cup of tea as you occasionally took little sips. That was something you were used to doing this late at night, killing time until your body was tired enough to go back to bed. You looked at the time again, sighing loudly at the fact that you weren’t as tired as you hoped you would be.
“Hey,” you heard behind you, pulling your attention away from your phone. You put the mug down and turned around, spotting a sleepy Lando walking towards you, his eyes tired as he yawned.
"Hi, baby,” you whispered, as if speaking any louder would scare away the sleep he still had. “I’m sorry, did I wake you?” “No, you didn’t. I just… I tried to reach for you, but you weren’t there.”
“Oh… I’m sorry, love.”
“It’s okay,” he smiled softly at you, sitting next to you and making you scoot over. He was aware of your sleeping issues, so he knew what this was about. “Can’t sleep?” You shook your head as you remembered the endless tossing and turning before getting up. “No, it’s one of those nights again.”
“Everything okay?” He asked, concern evident in his voice.
“Yeah, I just can’t seem to fall asleep... I don’t know; I guess I was hoping the tea would help,” you answered, signalling the mug now resting on the coffee table.
“Can I?” He asked as he reached for it, but you quickly shook your head.
“It’s not very good.” Giggling a little, he took it anyway and took a small sip. He didn’t want to make you feel bad about your tea skills, but his face gave it away. “Told you.”
He laughed again, making you smile “I’ve had worse.”
“I really doubt it.”
“Oh, believe me, you’ve gotten better.”
You paid attention to how he leaned back on the couch, his hands pulling you to his lap and embracing you. You relaxed into his arms, feeling at ease for the first time that night.
“You need to sleep.”
“I know, but so do you.” He just hummed in response as he caressed your back. “I’m serious, Lando; you need to rest as much as you can before going to Silverstone. I’ll be okay.”
“I care more about you getting enough rest.” His words warmed your heart, but you really needed him to go back to sleep.
“Why don’t you go back to bed, and I’ll join you as soon as I’m done here?”
“I’m comfortable here.”
“Lando-” You started, but he interrupted you.
“Let’s just stay here for a bit, yeah?” You knew there was no point in arguing with him, so you just nodded and hugged him back. Your head was on his chest, allowing you to listen to his heartbeat; your mind focused on it as if it were your favourite sound in the world.
You didn’t notice at first, but the way your breathing was syncing with his made you fall into a much calmer state. So much so that you started to fall asleep in his arms. He, however, was well aware of this. His hands kept soothing the skin under your sleeping shirt until he felt you completely drift off into a peaceful sleep, finally.
He waited just a few more minutes until he was sure he wouldn't wake you up. Slowly, he started getting up, trying to be as careful as he could as he carried you to your room.
Once he got there, he laid you down in bed, happy that his plan had worked. He laid next to you and pulled you into him again, kissing your temple softly with a smile. “Good night, baby,” he whispered, falling asleep almost immediately.
#lando norris#ln4#lando norris x reader#lando norris fanfic#lando norris fluff#lando norris imagine#lando norris smut#f1#formula 1#mclaren#giannaln4 writes#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#lando norris oneshot#lando norris one shot
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naturally | pjs
pairing: chef!jay x fem!reader genres: fluff, smut wc: 6.0k+
꒰ 𝅄 warnings ꒱ : masturbation (m receiving), body marks like a hickey on the neck, jay is described as reserved, but he's a jerk in love with yn. lmk if i forgot any more.
꒰ 𝅄 synopsis ꒱ : jay has always been very private about his love life and physical contact in front of his friends, but a comment from his work colleagues made him rethink some things.
꒰ 𝅄 notes ꒱ : i wanted to write something for jay and i don't know if i'm satisfied with the result. to take my mind off the last story i wrote, i tried something and i promise to improve on the next ones. i hope you like it!
꒰ 𝅄 masterlist ꒱
“What's that hickey on your neck?” Jay stopped midway when he thought about adjusting his dolman, turning to face his best friend and partner in the restaurant.
Frankie's hysterical and excited scream caused other cooks and people working in the kitchen to look in her and Jay's direction, causing the boy to feel his face heat up. And it wasn't because he was close enough to the stove.
“Frankie, for God's sake” he said quietly, the collar of his dolman being pulled up a little more than usual, ”Keep your voice down.”
“It was my sister, wasn't it?” she held back a laugh as she finished chopping some herbs and put them in the steaming pot a few steps away.
“Who's to say?” Jay joked.
“Oh, I'll call her right away then” Frankie wiped her hands on her apron and turned to Jay. The smile played on his lips as he approached and gave her a gentle push on the shoulder.
“You're the worst best friend I have, you know that?” he whispered.
“And you're the worst best friend and brother-in-law I have, you know that?” she whispered back ”Finally you and Y/n are becoming more public. Tired of hiding?”
Jay didn't see your relationship with him that way, not least because the two of you weren't hiding from anyone. Quite the opposite. The people at his restaurant knew that you and he were having something, just as the people at your work also knew about Jay. The only difference was the public touching and fondling in front of people.
It was normal for a couple to kiss in front of their friends, exchange some affection, or become more affectionate with each other in front of people. Especially since two people who had feelings for each other tended to do this unconsciously. Jay got tired of seeing Heeseung, another cook and best friend, walk past Frankie and kiss her from time to time. Shouting love to her from across the kitchen as he prepared an order.
Of course, Jay felt responsible for bringing the two of them together and thought it was cute how they showed their love for each other.
Maybe that's how Frankie felt about having introduced you, her sister, to Jay at a get-together in their restaurant.
He had always been discreet about romantic relationships and anything that involved them, but Jay had also always been very observant and curious, wanting to get to know you a little more from the moment you told him your name and sat down in the restaurant chair to try the dish that Heeseung and Frankie had created.
You were beautiful. The most beautiful woman Jay had ever seen in his life, and he had traveled to other countries in search of innovations for his restaurant's menu, so he knew a lot of people. He worked with and talked to a lot of people, so he had a lot to say about that.
Jay's best friend and partner was the right-hand in this introduction between the two of you. She knew that your best friend was single – the only single guy in the group – and you, the sister, had never introduced anyone decent to your sister and mother. Jay was the complete opposite of any guy you'd ever had a relationship with, so who better than your sister to recognize that and give you a little push? She had no guarantee that you and he would work out because you were both too shy to start anything, but the night everyone organized to meet at Jake's house and you arrived in Jay's car, your sister knew she had made the right choice.
Since then, no one has ever seen anything suspicious between you and Jay when you all went out together. Over three months they saw, at most, Jay kissing the top of your head while you were all drinking in a bar. Frankie used to ask her best friend if he'd ever kissed you because she never got to see it. And you never said more than was necessary either, perhaps because Jay was always much more reserved about it, so respecting him in this respect was the least you could do.
“Come on, Jongseong, you haven't answered me” Frankie snapped Jay out of his thoughts when he bumped into him again. The smell of the spices she used in her dishes was unmistakable and he couldn't help but approach the pot and furtively ask for some of the sauce to try.
“What do you want to know?” he rolled his eyes in false drama, rummaging around on the worktop to find a spoon she wouldn't use. As soon as he found a small one, he silently asked permission and scooped some of the sauce into his mouth. It was delicious, as always. Frankie was great with the spices she made and that made her stand out even more in the restaurant. Jay loved that. He, Frankie and Heeseung had totally different ways of cooking and excelling in some aspects of the kitchen, which was why it had worked out so well when they opened the restaurant together.
“That hickey on your neck” she said, leaning against the counter opposite Jay as she watched him enjoy the sauce he had just tasted. Smiling with satisfaction at having achieved the goal of her seasoning “Was it my sister?”
“Who else would it be?” he saw Frankie shrug.
“It's just that in all these months, I've never even seen you two kiss on the mouth. Now you show up with a scar on your neck” and it was her turn to pick up a spoon to try out the work she had done. It wasn't as hard to find as Jay, since it was her worktop, so Frankie knew exactly where her utensils were. She picked up the spoon and put in a lot less sauce than Jay, just enough to see if she needed to get anything right “It's different, you know?”
Jay smiled, although she couldn't see the amusement in his eyes when he heard her. It was different, and he didn't blame her for asking. The two of them were interrupted by Heeseung's approach to the counter, the dishcloth in his hands to wipe something up.
“Have you two stopped talking? Because we have a lot to do” he joked.
“We're about to close, asshole” Jay pulled out the dishcloth and turned it to hit Heeseung weakly, who muttered in protest.
“Right, dickhead” he laughed lowly, approaching Frankie and hugging her ”Has he confessed about that hickey yet?”
“What's so horrible about me getting a hickey?” he lamented.
“It's not horrible, it's just…”
“Different?” Jay used the word Frankie had described seconds before, prompting Heeseung to agree as he hugged his girlfriend a little tighter. Looking at the couple in front of him, Jay grimaced as he thought about what he could say to them.
There was no other way out of that explanation because you were the only person who could do that to him. Neither of you was careless about it, but in the heat of the moment, Jay didn't even mind being marked by you. He would never have minded. Knowing that the way you sucked on his skin or scratched him was the result of his persistent and precise touches on your skin. From the movement of your bodies and the synchronicity you two had.
Thinking about it, Jay began to feel hot, taking deep breaths to try and dispel the thought of the night before that had resulted in the hickey on his neck, the big topic at the end of the night.
“That was our first visual confirmation that you two have something going on” Heeseung cut the brief silence when he heard one of the waiters call out. There were only a few other people in the restaurant and the dishes were relatively simple. So no one had to do anything on the run. He let go of Frankie and kissed her quickly before returning to his worktop on the other side of the kitchen.
“So I have to let her give me more hickeys so you can confirm that we're together?” Jay commented a little too loudly, forgetting that there were other people in the kitchen besides Frankie and Heeseung. The two people who had caused the whole thing laughed at the boy's desperation as he tried to talk his way out of it and forget about the malicious looks and teasing noises from the other staff.
“You just need to stop turning redder than the pepper I'm going to use for the sauce” Frankie whispered to him after a short bout of laughter.
Jay just obeyed, no longer wanting to go through all that banter in the kitchen of his restaurant.
Jay didn't want to be the type to overthink things, but talking to Frankie and Heeseung sparked something in his mind. It wasn't a bad thing that he was always secretive about his love life and what he and you did, it never seemed to be a problem for you because he saw the way you behaved in front of your friends and sister. You were never able to initiate any caresses on Jay either, the most you did was bump into his hand when you handed him something or slide your hand around his waist when you passed him in the same space.
Physical contact in public wasn't something that made you uncomfortable, maybe you'd heard how quiet he was about it from your sister – being Jay's best friend – so taking her words at face value was the least you could do.
He found himself standing in the car before entering your apartment with the bag of food he always carried after a tiring day. The night before had been at his place, and as a silent combination over the months, the next night was always spent at your apartment. Jay wanted to ask you so many things, to know if it was a problem for you that he was secretive like that or if Frankie had said something about it so that you could take the hint without him having to say anything. Communication was the key to a relationship working, right? And everything was going too well between you and him, so why not ask?
Jay got out of the car and walked up to your apartment a little faster than usual, his hands firmly gripping the bag he was carrying with his dinner as he exited the elevator and went straight to your door. Even though he was the only person arriving at that time and also had a spare key to your door, Jay never entered without knocking. And that's what he did.
He knocked lightly on your door before taking the key with his free hand and unlocking it, entering your dimly lit and silent apartment. As it always was when he arrived after work at the restaurant. Jay went into the kitchen and put the bags in the fridge, going up to your bedroom to see the familiar sight of almost every night he was there in your apartment.
Your wet hair cascaded down your back, covered by the thin layer of clothes you were wearing. Tonight it had been a light-colored sweater, which Jay couldn't quite identify because his eyes were focused on how you were spreading the cream over your arm.
“Hey” you greeted him slowly, looking at him in the reflection of the mirror and smiling in Jay's direction. He smiled at you too. A tired smile, but so beautiful. You called out to him with a gentle gesture, watching him walk towards you and stop right behind you in the reflection of the mirror.
Jay didn't say much, leaning in to place a kiss on the curve between your shoulder and neck, inhaling the vanilla essence of the cream you were applying. Your distinctive scent made him sigh.
“Tough day?” you asked, ignoring the slight shiver that formed on your skin when Jay placed another kiss on your neck, resting the tip of his nose against your cheek.
“Too much to do” Jay whispered against your skin, one of his hands snaking around your waist to pull you against him without much effort “And they bothered me for a long time!”
“My sister?” you asked, hearing Jay's whimper and his grip on your waist intensify. Your laughter echoed throughout the room and, putting down the bottle of cream, you turned to Jay. His hand was still on your waist and now his other hand was on your cheek “What did she do this time?”
For a few seconds, Jay stopped answering that because he wanted to focus on you. How your clean face and the sparkle in your eyes made his heart beat faster. Jay knew that his best friend's sister was beautiful, he just didn't know that he would hold you in his arms after so long. It was a dream to be able to share every little thing with you.
“She was playing with my face because someone left me a present” he whispered, his eyes dropping down to your lips. He noticed how apprehensive you were when you bit your lower lip and then put your hands flat against his chest “Turn down the collar of my shirt” Jay still kept his voice down to a whisper, tilting his neck a little to give you access to what he wanted.
Your fingers seemed a little shy at first when you went to the collar of his shirt as if that path was unknown to you. Although it never was since you had touched him so many times that you had even memorized every little part of Jay's body. Holding the collar carefully, you lowered it to the point where you saw the purplish skin just below his Adam's apple, almost near his collarbone.
“Oh my God” was the only thing that came out of your mouth, your fingers pulling away from the fabric of his clothes and you curled up in Jay's arms ”I'm so sorry, Jay. I—”
“Hey, it's okay” he said, silencing your whining as he leaned his forehead against yours ”I actually wanted to talk to you about it.”
You didn't want to admit that your heart had raced at that. So that's when you and he were going to break up? Jay got angry because Frankie probably made fun of the hickey you gave him, not knowing that someone would see.
Your slight panic, coupled with past traumas from failed relationships, made you just follow him to bed in silence. Jay held your hand with the tenderness he had in any moment the two of you spent together. He was the first to sit down, leaving the space at the head of the bed for you to sit and lean against, facing him. Now your gaze had dropped to your lap and Jay noticed how quiet you had been since he had said those words.
“Y/n” he called you in a calm tone, although he still whispered every word. Even though it was just the two of you in the apartment, it was as if he didn't want anything else to hear you and him.
“Hi” you looked up when he called you, feeling your cheeks burn at the sensation of Jay looking at you like that.
“You…” he didn't want to show that he was more apprehensive than you, nor did he want to say that he was thinking about too many things at once. Sharing frustrations was fundamental and perhaps he would say that another time, but right now, he just wanted to know one thing “Do you mind if I'm not so physically affectionate with you in front of others?”
For a moment, your mind went blank, not knowing how to respond to the question he had asked. Your eyes searched his for a fraction of a second before fixing them and paying even more attention to the man in front of you.
“What do you mean? Did something happen?” you asked.
“It happened, and… I wanted to know.”
Jay didn't want to make the mistake of not being honest or not sharing his frustrations with you. The thought of seconds ago had dissipated when he almost ran over himself with the words to tell you everything that had happened. From the moment he walked into the kitchen to the little chat he had with Heeseung and Frankie, the physically affectionate couple on any occasion. It was cute to see how affectionate Heeseung was with your little sister and you even commented on it to Jay and your other friends. But it wasn't as if you felt jealous of her or envious because she had it and you didn't. You listened attentively to Jay telling you everything.
You listened attentively to Jay saying everything he felt and his fear of you caring ate away at him. Because he didn't know how to act and had never said anything to you about that kind of thing. As you watched him lose himself in his words, gesticulating a little more than usual and starting to get euphoric, your mind worked on the opposite.
You slid across the bed to sit on Jay's lap, crossing your legs to either side of him and holding him by the collar of his shirt. At that moment he stopped talking and paid attention to what you were doing.
“Go on” your voice was soft, although you were a little agitated at being on Jay's lap and with your face so close to his.
“I can't concentrate with you sitting like this” he admitted, his hands running down to your waist and pressing into the sides of your hips.
Your smile was mirrored by his as you leaned in a little closer and brushed your lips against Jay's. The slightly cracked crevices of his mouth passed through you smelled of the lip balm you had applied earlier. Jay knew how soft your lips were and how much he wished all day that he could kiss you, but when he went to do so, you pulled back a little more. Your head hung back just enough so that he couldn't kiss you. A little teasing game and he didn't even know why, but he was getting impatient.
Maybe you wanted to see how impatient he would get and you were just testing his limits, but Jay proved he wasn't very good at this game because the second time you brushed your lips against his and pulled away, he couldn't take it anymore.
One of the hands-on your waist moved quickly up to the back of your neck and pulled your face close enough to collide your lips with his. The sound of Jay's muffled moan echoed in your mouth as you opened slightly to greet his tongue urgently and desperately. He just wanted to kiss you and taste you on the tip of his tongue. As the kiss intensified, feeling your tongues wrap around each other, you felt your body slide down, Jay laying you gently against the mattress and climbing on top of you.
He seemed to fit perfectly between your legs every time the two of you got into this position. It was as if Jay knew exactly at which angle to lie down and place you, how he should sit between your thighs, and the exact place his hips should press against yours. Everything was millimetrically calculated as he continued to kiss you. Mouths moving against each other, ragged breaths, and hands rushing for more contact.
You unbuttoned each button on his shirt until his chest was exposed, sliding your hands over the tanned skin that had been addicting you for the last few months. Jay smiled against your mouth, loving the warm contact of your fingers against his skin, causing him to slide his teeth against your lower lip at the same second that his hips pressed against yours.
Your moan was music to Jay's ears, and seeing the effect he had on you with a few kisses was breathtaking.
“Babe” he called softly, his mouth still against yours as he slid it up to your chin and placed a small kiss there.
“Yes?” you tried to muster all your strength to reply, your fingers stopping in the middle of his chest.
“Can I mark your neck too?” the way Jay looked at you was so innocent and cute, in stark contrast to the way he was now. Between your legs, with his cock hard and pressing against your clothed pussy. You genuinely laughed when he looked at you like that, the question coming out so quietly “Are you… Are you laughing at me?”
“What? No!” you tried to say, but you couldn't tell yourself. So you pulled him a little closer to kiss Jay's lips a little more slowly “You can… Do it.”
It was like giving someone the best news in the world. The way he smiled at you felt like you'd just told him you'd bought his favorite manga collection.
Jay just nodded at you, leaving a small kiss on your lips and slowly making his way back down to your chin. Thinking about getting back at you for laughing at his request, or leaving a mark that you made on him too. Even if yours wasn't intentional, but he wanted his to be. Didn't know why he needed to show that the hickey on your neck had been made by him. Only he could mark you like that.
Jay's thoughts ran wild and he went back to working his lips against your skin, down your jawline to just below your ear. Your sweet spot was the ideal place for him to start distributing slow kisses as if he were kissing you. At that moment a moan came from your mouth and he unconsciously pressed his hips against yours.
“Jay” you moaned his name softly as he moved up to your earlobe to slowly suck on the skin. The light taste of vanilla against his tongue indicated that your cream was an illusory barrier between your skin and his mouth to kiss you. Jay didn't care, just focusing on sucking on your earlobe.
He knew you weren't going to stand still and thank God for that, your hands quickly running to the zipper of his pants to undo any ties between the fabric and his hips. Jay lifted up enough for you to pull down what was necessary of his pants and underwear, freeing his cock that needed to be out of the grasp of clothing. He sighed against your neck, swallowing a moan as your fingers gently gripped his cock.
“My love, you…” Jay didn't hold back and moaned close to your ear as your thumb circled the head of his cock, spreading the pre-cum that was forming there. He bit down hard on your skin for the first time since he'd started kissing you there “Fuck, Y/n” Jay wanted to concentrate as much as possible on kissing your skin and marking you in a good way, but he didn't count on your mind working as well as his.
You masturbated him slowly while Jay tried not to bite you hard again, knowing that his teeth were already marked on your skin. You held back from making a sound, loving the way you were catching him off guard as you ran your hand up and down his cock. Wetting your fingertips with pre-cum as you used it to slide more easily along its length, feeling the veins under your fingers.
Jay took a deep breath, not bothering to control any more sounds coming out of his mouth. He let the moans out freely and tried to concentrate on the kisses, apart from your hand, which was doing a great job. He circled his tongue over your skin, making irregular designs with the tip of it until it came down near your collarbone. There he moaned once more as you squeezed the head of his cock just as your fingers reached the top, your fist working just as slowly as Jay's lips worked on your skin.
“You want to drive me crazy, don't you?” his panting voice made you smile, even if he couldn't see it. You moved your fist up and down again, gripping his cock more firmly to jerk him off a little faster.
“I want to give you a boost, love” you said quietly, close to his ear as you heard the wet sound of Jay's pre-cum between your fingers each time your hand moved up and down his cock.
“Fuck” Jay's hands roamed your body, touching your sides and gripping the fabric of the nightgown you were wearing tightly.
He wanted to rip everything off you and fuck you right there, take your hand off his cock, and shove it deep into your pussy until your whole body was marked, not just your neck. But Jay had to concentrate, he had to do this before he could fuck you properly. Then he connected his lips to your skin again and kissed you even harder and faster.
Jay sucked on the skin of your neck and let go with a pop, seeing the reddish mark that formed when he did so. The ball of saliva against your soft skin made him suck on the same spot again, noticing the red spot becomes a little darker. You squirmed beneath him, shivering every time Jay's mouth came into contact with your skin. Your fingers squeezed a little tighter as you reached the head of his cock and slowly descended to his balls.
He swore he was about to come, his hands squeezing your hips and his hips fucking your hand as he started to move.
“Y/n, I…” Jay straightened his face to rest his forehead against yous. He was panting and his lips were red, the crack in his mouth completely wet from the saliva that had spread across his skin by then. Jay was completely divine on your lips. His cheeks flushed and his chest rose and fell frantically as he continued to fuck your hand.
“Do you want to cum?” you asked in such a sweet whisper that he felt his cock twitch all over. Jay just nodded and pressed his hands even tighter against your hips, wanting to release quickly from how good you were doing jerking him off like that.
It didn't take a verbal request or anything you said to him to make him cum, just the way your hand went up and down, paying equal attention to the head of his cock, which was drooling more and more pre-cum, and his balls that you made sure to caress every time your fingers went down. Jay was on the verge of madness and he only managed to be quick to lift your nightgown, showing the skin of your belly enough so that he could cum there without dirtying your clothes. And that's what he did.
Spurts of thick, hot, white cum bathed your skin as he came, moaning your name continuously as his lips ran to your neck. Giving a long suck against your skin, in erratic movements with his hips against your hand. His cock throbbed between your fingers until you milked the last drop, cleaning the cum with your thumb from the head of his completely sensitive cock.
Jay whimpered at the sensation, almost cumming again when you brought your fingers to your lips to completely clean what was left there. His eyes were shining, his mouth wide open and his breathing was completely uneven. Jay was on cloud nine and didn't know what to say at that moment.
You made a move to move beneath him, maybe you were going to get up or something, but he wouldn't let you move with so much cum in your belly.
"Wait a minute" Jay kissed the tip of your nose before running to the bathroom and grabbing a towel. It didn't take him long to wet the cloth and run back to clean you. You bit your lower lip to try to suppress the smile that was about to spread across your lips at the care he took in cleaning you and making sure everything was okay before getting out of bed and putting the towel in the laundry basket.
When Jay came back, he just discarded his already open shirt and pulled up his underwear, getting rid of his pants and throwing himself on the bed next to you.
His arms wrapped around your body to pull you closer, nuzzling his face close to your neck where he had left that hickey.
“Why… Did you do that?” he was still trying to recover from what had just happened, his heart racing. You smiled as you turned to face him, your hands holding either side of Jay’s face.
“Because if you don’t remember when this happened…” you removed one of your hands from his face to point to where the hickey you had given him was, running your thumb against Jay’s skin “Your fingers were inside me, so I just wanted to return the way I felt.”
“Oh” Jay felt his cheeks burn suddenly. Of course, you had done the same to him. He didn’t remember why you had left that hickey, but to refresh his memory, the two of you were in his room and while his fingers were going deep inside you, your moans had been muffled like that. Just like he had done minutes ago against your neck. He laughed along with you and pulled you a little closer, wrapping your body between his arms.
“Now how about I mark you in other parts too?” he asked.
“And how would you do that?”
“I don’t know” Jay pulled you on top of him, wrapping your legs around his waist “But I want to be inside you when it happens this time.”
Trying to reassure Jay that you didn't care about the way you two acted in front of your friends was hard work. The conversation he had with your sister and Heeseung seemed to have gotten to him somehow, and you felt obligated to tell him what you had learned before meeting him.
You had heard from Frankie and Heeseung that Jay was reserved and quiet, that they needed to make the boy meet someone who would make him smile a little more. Or even be more affectionate, but that it would be hard work. When you met Jay, you didn't see anything like what the two of them had told you before.
Jay smiled easily at you, treated you well, and was generous and gentlemanly with everything he did for you. Meeting him and getting involved with him was a bonus that you didn't think would happen, although your head was still pounding from the conversation you had with your sister and brother-in-law. This was something you kept with you for the months that followed as you got to know and get involved with Jay. And that was what you told him after that confession. You didn't want to cross the line that you thought he had sat quietly. And you also didn't mind not having physical touch in front of your friends, especially since Jay was the complete opposite when it was just the two of you. And you appreciated that.
“Here” he called your attention as he returned from the kitchen to the backyard of your parents' house. Bringing a drink that you had ordered while he was diverting from his duty to stay at the barbecue with Heeseung and Sunghoon.
Your sister was in charge of making the drinks with Lucy, Sunghoon's girlfriend, while you talked to Jake and Crystal right in front of you.
“Thank you” you smiled at him and took the glass, trying the mixture that your younger sister had made.
When your eyes returned to Jake and Crystal to resume the conversation, you felt Jay's hands on your shoulder. Maybe he wanted to say something silently or just get your attention. Or he wanted to try your drink since your sister could have made something completely different for him. Not knowing what Jay wanted, you turned to him to find him smiling at you.
Without saying anything, Jay leaned down enough so that his face was close to yours.
"Jay, what…"
"What's your drink?" he asked quietly.
"Watermelon, why?"
He didn't answer, moving a little closer to you to touch his lips to yours. The shock evident on your features gradually dissipated as Jay's lips moved against yours. Your free hand went to his face when you felt Jay's tongue ask for entry for a kiss, which was soon given.
It didn't take long, especially because you knew that kisses with him were always slow and needy, ending somewhere else that you were both far away from. So Jay quickly pulled his lips away from yours.
“Really, your drink is watermelon” he smiled and walked away.
“Holy shit!” Heeseung shouted the moment Jay passed by him, calling Frankie's name inside the kitchen with excited shouts.
You tried to process what had just happened, that Jay had kissed you in front of your friends who were amazed and excited about it. Your eyes searched for Crystal who had been the only one left there, because Jake got up and ran with Sunghoon to the kitchen too.
“Come on, they look like teenagers” she rolled her eyes, laughing while you were still in shock about everything that happened.
Your lips tingled where Jay had kissed you and your mind was spinning with the fact that he made it seem so natural that you didn’t even know what to say. Walking with Crystal to the kitchen where everyone was, your eyes ran to your younger sister.
“I can’t believe I fucking missed that” she whimpered.
“You two need to kiss again, seriously, it was so cute” Heeseung jumped, looking like a child who had just received the best present in the world.
You just rolled your eyes and tried to ignore your brother-in-law’s excitement, although it was funny how he was dealing with all of this. Jay also tried to ignore it as he walked around the kitchen counter to stand next to you, hugging you from behind and giving Heeseung, Jake, and Sunghoon even more reason to scream hysterically.
“Why are you all screaming? Oh my God!” you tried to look serious as you felt Jay’s arm around your waist.
“What? Are you seriously going to ask us that?” Jake looked at you.
“They’re all excited about the kiss I didn’t see” your sister pretended to be angry, looking at you and Jay.
“Just wait until you see that I’m not the only one with a hickey now” Jay hummed and pulled away from you, smelling the barbecue that had been abandoned by Heeseung.
“No fucking way!” Frankie yelled and looked at her boyfriend, exchanging glances with you.
Your eyes rolled back and you tried to ignore them when they started yelling excitedly again and talking at the same time about you and Jay and how beautiful you two were together.
“You’ll pay for this, Park Jongseong” you said as you passed him at the barbecue.
“I’ll take that risk, love” he said back, smiling widely as he turned the meat that had been forgotten by Heeseung.
Jay thought that being affectionate with you in front of people, thinking about the kiss he gave you a few minutes ago, seemed so right and natural. As if it wasn’t something rehearsed, it had to happen.
So maybe having more physical touch was common between the two of you and his reserved persona could be being left behind by someone who did it without even asking.
© ikeuverse, 2024. do not copy, translate or steal my stories.
#enhypen smut#jay smut#jongseong smut#enhypen jay#enhypen fluff#jay fluff#enha smut#jay x reader#jongseong x reader#enhypen x reader#enhypen hard hours#jay hard hours#jongseong hard hours#enhypen masterlist#enhypen imagines#bay writes.
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HI I LOVE ur lads headcanons ‼️ idk if u do angst but im feeling some angsty/hurt/comfort........... can i pls request the lads men's reaction to the reader rejecting their confession bc we think they deserve better...... someone who doesn't have a heart condition (like the mc) or something........
Oh my gosh, thank you so much!! And oh man, I love angst and hurt/comfort, as long as I get to give it a tiny bit of hope/a happy ending! I felt this one though, I've thought about it before with my own MC…….. a few dozen times- Hope you enjoy, and thank you for the request! <3
Love and Deepspace Li’s reactions to you rejecting their confession due to feelings of inadequacy
Rafayel -
Rafayel is… surprised, to say the least.
Not only do you not have any memory of him or the things you did together- the things you did to him- but you also are straight up turning him down when he finally realized that he needs to confess to you all over again.
He's pretty upset.
It'll definitely turn into an argument, and you know he's hurt. Damn, you're hurt too, just having to turn him down. He makes you feel something, like you're special. Like you're everything to him. Like you're not…
Broken.
And it'll come out eventually. Maybe not blatantly so, but in small ways, your feelings of inadequacy will start to leak through the cracks that are forming in your resolve as you try to refuse a man who has already been refused his love by fate and prophecy for far too long.
And somehow, that makes it so much worse. Because he can fight fate, he can go against the currents of time and the ever evolving cruelty of human nature. But he can't do anything about the feelings raging inside your own head.
He's sure going to try though.
Angrily but calmly, he will start firing off things he has done for you, just because he's loved you so much, throughout all of your time together and even before. He doesn't know if it'll make it worse, make you feel like he already does too much for whatever it is you see yourself as, but he's going to do it anyway. And slowly, it'll start forming into the things you two do together- the things you've done for him when he needs you.
And you're going to be there a while, because until you start to realize, until he starts to chip away at that dark feeling in the deepest reaches of your mind and heart, he's not going to let up.
Not now, not ever.
Sylus -
He's a bit taken aback, but he's not particularly surprised. He had seen this coming, mentally prepared himself for it, even. He knew after his treatment of you when the two of you had just met again for the first time, that any sort of official relationship between you two would be tricky to get to. Especially putting an actual label on it.
He'll be a lot more surprised when he reads between the lines at your words, and realizes it's not because you're still scared of him, but because you don't think you're good enough for him.
"You can't be serious, sweetie."
He's not going to force you to accept his confession, but regardless of how timid or aggressive you become, whether you escalate it vocally or try to exit the conversation, he's not arguing with you. He pretty much refuses to, as he instead begins to state snarky facts as he crosses his arms, watching your reactions as he does.
"When you patched my wounds a month ago, was I not deserving of your hands caring for me because they were shaky and belonging to you? How about that girl you muttered about that we saw at the café who was mad at her boyfriend to the point of shouting, when he didn't get her the right cake she wanted? Are you saying you're worse than her? Helping me on jobs simply because you want to exist near me is… not good enough for me?"
"Sylus, that's not what I'm saying-"
"Oh don't worry sweetie. I know exactly what it is you're saying. I just know it's a particularly misinformed, self loathing thought for you to be having. Don't you think it's insulting for you to decide who I give my love to? After every calculated decision you have witnessed me make?"
He'll finally soften, reaching out a hand to gently rest on the side of your neck, his thumb brushing against your cheek in a gentle back and forth.
"You don't need to be concerning yourself with what I deserve in a partner. You should have faith in my opinions, if not for yourself, but for your confidence in me, sweetie. After that, the rest is up to what you truly want in your heart."
Zayne -
His reaction is definitely the most reserved initially, especially until he realizes why exactly you're turning him down.
He definitely has the passing thought that maybe you're just misunderstanding him again, just like back with the snow seals when the two of you were still kids.
When he realizes that's not the case, and instead, it's your own internalized feelings, he's first a bit relieved, and secondly- pretty perturbed.
"It's interesting to know that's your perspective, given how much you enjoy those fictional stories with ironic pairings. I would think that it would be the most romantic thing for a heart patient to be in a relationship with a cardiac surgeon.
His biting but well-meaning quips aside, he's not quite sure how to break it to you that he used to be in a similar boat, and still is to some capacity. Which is partly why he's a bit upset to understand your perspective.
He's genuinely surprised you haven't processed the timeline of the two of you and your lives. Your accident that caused the state of your heart, his leaving to study medicine and become a specialist in cardiology and a renowned cardiac surgeon- are you not able to see that it's not an inadequacy for him, but his own lack of knowledge when you first started having issues made himself feel inadequate? Why he left without a word for years in the first place?
And not just that- it also applies to other fields too. He has no issues helping you where you need him, because he knows the extent of your capabilities, much like he knows his own. And he will spend forever if he needs to, to show you that loving is not about who does more. It's about doing what your partner needs, no matter how much or how little that is, and loving each other through every hard moment.
And you're about to hear every ounce of his convincing, opinions, and own feelings, until you start to see. Until you finally see.
Xavier -
Unless you tell it to him straight, he's not going to know why you rejected him. He'll be hurt, but he'll accept your rejection graciously and politely, before trying to figure out just how to get you to accept it.
There's an increase in claw machine dates, movie night invitations, and how much he helps you with missions or even just around your apartment. Eventually, you process the weird behavior and you're all but forced to confront him on really truly why you rejected him.
It's Xavier, so you try to play it off as a lighthearted situation or a joke, but you can see his expression darkening, and you're not sure if it's because of him being upset at your words, or realizing just how much time he has sunk into you with how... broken of a person you are.
Turns out, it's the former!
It's hard to not realize such, as he's pulling you into the tightest hug he's probably ever grabbed you into.
For a while, it's just you and him standing there, with him squeezing you tightly and you not knowing what to do with your hands or the lump rising in the back of your throat. He doesn't really know what to say, but he does know he needs to say something.
"I'll definitely make you see that you're more than enough for me."
"Xavier- that's not how this work-"
"I know, and I don't care. I- I need you to know that you're everything to me. You're not inadequate, or broken, or anything you've been telling yourself. You're more than enough. You're more than everything to me. And I'm not going anywhere until you finally understand that."
#.writey#love and deepspace#lads#x reader#lds#lnds#love and deepspace sylus#love and deepspace rafayel#love and deepspace zayne#love and deepspace xavier#rafayel x reader#sylus x reader#zayne x reader#xavier x reader#.req
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Currently getting my socks clean blown off by Rethinking Narcissism, by Dr. Craig Malkin. Which I found, in a roundabout way, from this video on Midsommar, grief, and narcissism.
Tonight I woke up from a nap and accidentally took my morning meds, so I'm going to be up for a few hours because of the meth. In place of sleep, I'll try to roughly sum up some basic ideas proposed by the research the book is based on:
That traits of "narcissism" like entitlement, grandiosity, and feeling special are not inherently toxic. There are times and places they are appropriate and beneficial. If you show up at a hospital with a gunshot wound to the chest, you should not sit and wait to be seen after people with earaches and coughs. (Actually, medical systems are designed to prioritize people with more urgent needs, and you qualify under that system. You are special and are deserving of different treatment than those others, which is why making your needs known, even insisting on it if you're not listened to appropriately the first time, is an extremely good idea. It keeps you from bleeding to death on the floor, and keeps the hospital from getting its pants sued off by your heirs.)
It is more useful to view "narcissism" not as an inherent immutable personality trait, but as a cluster of coping mechanisms. As previously stated, there are times they are exactly the right coping mechanism for the job. However, people we call "narcissists" tend to cling to these ones even when they become detrimental to themselves and others, often because they lack other ways of regulating their emotions and getting their needs met. And that is something they can change, if a person is willing to put in sincere and difficult work. It is not usually fast change; it's a matter of years, not weeks. But a skillbuilding approach turned Borderline Personality Disorder from an immutable curse to a fully treatable (though not quickly treatable) condition, and there's a lot of hope that it can do the same for Narcissistic Personality Disorder.
Meanwhile, there's an opposite end to the narcissism spectrum, and it is also pathological and destructive to hang out there all the time. It's an aversion, or even a resistance, to expecting yourself or other people to treat your own feelings, thoughts, ideas, needs, or preferences as important. For Greek mythology reasons, its proposed name is Echoism.
Unfortunately, because most of the damage echoism does is, by its very nature, localized to its sufferer and their own personal relationships, its downsides aren't often talked about. In fact, it's often seen as an ideal moral state, a kind of altruism or saintliness everyone should strive for. As a pathological coping mechanism a person is trapped in, though, it's often more a fear-based reflex than a conscious and deliberate attempt to achieve some real and specific good. It's not actually as beneficial as being able to recognize your needs, desires, positive aspects, and areas of competence or excellence, and bring them forward in your relationships with other people and yourself.
To me this has all been a cross between a gut-punch and a cool, sweet drink of water. There have been other ways to describe echoism over the years, but this feels like the most concise and useful one I've seen in ages.
It specifically puts its pin down in the middle of the moral debate a lot of people struggle with—"What right do I have to put myself forward? What hope do I have of being seen and accepted? Isn't it better not to burden anybody else?"—and says that the problem is not feeling in touch with either side of the equation, but specifically, the inability to move from one part of the spectrum to another when it's merited by circumstances.
When I was a child, I thought Echoism was the answer. It was my ideal. I thought it was what would get me the love and acceptance I wanted, and would keep me safe from the pain of rejection or not being understood. I had no idea it would actually, in fact, be the primary cause of alienation and loneliness for the rest of my life.
Now I'm so deeply thankful I couldn't fully achieve it, in practical terms. As hard as I tried to erase myself, there were always things I loved too much to suppress. I still found ways to express and discover myself in the books I read, the stories I wrote, the intellectual work of school and the experience of pursuing hobbies I loved, my ambitions to be helpful even when they demanded I stop being selfless, and the relationships where I felt safe enough to experience love and acceptance even if I didn't think I deserved them.
There's this question I found a while back that echoed in my bones: Who am I allowed to be around you? Because that's what I felt like, as a child. If I wanted to engage with other people and minimize my risk of harm, it was my job to bend into a pretzel and fit the shape they wanted. And thank god, thank god, thank god, I couldn't fully do it. Despite everything, there were parts of me too strong and bright to lop off completely to get my arms and legs inside the carriage. I was able to take care of myself and let them grow in secret until I found social places I could let them out again. Despite myself, I found ways to grow and thrive, well beyond the trauma that said I shouldn't have.
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