#the pack x reader
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zapreportsblog · 2 years ago
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↳ THE VOLTURI / POLY ↲
queen of the ball
your ours
bonds beyond blood
a haunting resemblance
tangled in duty
im not easily impressed but when I am then im impressed
ending things
a nocturnal sojourn
installing fear into their hearts
protecting what’s theirs
target on my back
moments like these
forced to stay
as long as you’re okay
caius knows best
unexpected bonds
an unconventional union
the enchanting dance
the beginning of understanding
the hybrids protector
headcanon : you as the volturi mate with Cassie personality
bleeding me dry like a got damn vampire
baked goodness
she’s just too damn good
how would the volturi react to someone with the gifts similar to the scarlet witch
your end and your beginning
how the volturi would react to their mate who’s both repulsed and fears them for killing innocent people
different type of yandere the volturi can turn out to be
how yandere volturi would react to their human escaping
↳ OTHER CHARACTERS ↲
how they react to you kissing them on the lips unexpectedly
i need love and affection
damsel in distress
beanstalk
too far gone
i can handle my own
happy birthday
the end of the road
our other half
don’t mess with the guardian
a day to remember
tattoos and bar talks
descendants
getting through mama bear
home from war
concealed
duckling
papa
my sweet boy
the non shifter
cold
wedding singer
waking up
the cold never bothered me anyways
the past needs to stay in the past
a lifelong bond
not a people person
afraid of love
↳ THE CULLENS ↲
finding my voice
the storms rolling in
heed my warnings
descendants
getting through mama bear
concealed
forget me not
an unconventional union
true mates
my sweet boy
the mating pull
the non shifter
wedding singer
how they react to you getting a tongue ring
waking up
a blast from the past
little fairy girl
the cold never bothered me anyways
the past needs to stay in the past
fear of rejection
the hybrids protector
a lifelong bond
show some respect boy
not a people person
the witch hybrid and her companion
the witch hybrid and her companion 2
afraid of love
like a bear in hibernation
blood cravings
perfectly imperfect
↳ REQUESTED / ORIGINAL CHARACTERS ↲
the predators and their prey
shadowed hearts
the pairing
↳ THE PACK ↲
how’d he react to his gender neutral partner wearing his hoodies/shirts because they are oversized on them
whenever, wherever, however
the night we met
checking in on you
the non shifter
imprint
the past needs to stay in the past
a lifelong bond
the witch hybrid and her companion 
the witch hybrid and her companion 2
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pfpanimes · 8 months ago
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⌕ arcane • viktor moodboard.
like or reblog if you save/use. ✨
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eccentricallygothic · 9 months ago
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Apology Boy
Description: Paul finally apologizes for the scar(s) he gave you when he saw you for the first time. 
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Pairing: Paul Lahote | Human mate!You.
Warning(s): Paul's anger, possible past angst, fluff, Paul is a crazed mess for you, size kink (duh), imprinting/mates, abo!verse but you're human, possessiveness, fingering, cunnilingus (worship), breeding kink, licking, biting, smut with plot because oh God I can never stop myself, teasing, pet names, unprotected p-in-v, overstimulation, manhandling, light dom!Paul because I am still me. MDNI.
Type: Request, for the sweet @wishyouloveme, here.
MASTERLIST
Just like any other day.
. . .
It hit Paul like a freight train and caused sweat to form in ice cold drops on his otherwise warm skin. He had just returned from patrol with Embry and was spread over Emily's dining table whilst stuffing his face with the food she had cooked for them. Everything was fine and dandy. It was a pleasant day and the weather was nice and cool. Soon, he would be done with his daily obligations and then he would go home.
But then Sam came up behind Emily who was standing next to her mate's seat at the head of the table, one hand on the frame and other on her hip as she listened to Seth drone on and on about something that Paul's voice refused to register due to what unfolded next.
The pack leader's strong arms snaked around the waist of his delicate lover as he nuzzled his nose into her hair until the tip had found its way past the dark strands and against her tender cheek until it was caressing and tracing the scars he had left on her. 
All blood drained from Paul's skin and something in his head clicked. His surroundings faded to a dim buzz and the next few moments went by in a blur. 
And then he was standing in front of home.
“Paul!” You yelp in surprise at the sight of your nude lover. He usually dresses himself at Sam's house after patrols before coming home to you. 
Since you are human and your initial experience with the pack had both been overwhelming -thanks to your lover imprinting on you the first chance he was given- and traumatizing -as said lover who was much worse at controlling his primal urges back then had lost control at the sight of you because he was so overcome with raw, foreign emotion he did not know how to process-, you prefer to keep by yourself near the outskirts of the community in a house that Paul had moved in with you upon your request. 
The pack life is simply too loud and… public for you; a city girl used to her secluded places and treasured privacy.
You notice that Paul is panting -which is very unlike him due to his superhuman strength- and a redness outlines his eyes when his huge form approaches yours. “Are you— Paul!” You gasp and nearly flinch from both the shock and impulse when he lets his heavy body collapse on its knees in front of you. “What the hell happen—” you never know with your hyper emotional mate.
His long fingers push your sweater up and out of his way so he can stroke the soft skin of your stomach with the tip of his nose, his head nuzzling into your chest as his dark eyes flutter close and he inhales a deep whiff of your scent. It is the only thing that never fails to calm your hot blooded lover down. 
“What's wrong?” Your voice lowers to a concerned mumble as you peer down at him, your fingers cradle the dusky skin of his handsome face -as much of it as you can reach- and your nails rake through the male's jet black mass of short hair. “Honey?” He only behaves like this if something went wrong or when he is in need of comfort, which are both rare occurrences as he is the usual caretaker in your relationship. But you aren't a complete stranger to him acting like this. 
Ever the uncommunicative one, the male only sighs— no, whimpers against your skin as if he's wounded and softly feels your skin with gentle caresses of his fingers. Words require thought, patience and wisdom. Unfortunately, Paul's instinctual mind runs too fast for those things to catch up with it in time and rash actions get carried out before better sense can supply him from its store.
“Paul…” A shiver runs down your spine when his lips that had begun to softly peck your navel find their way up your stomach before they halt to ghost over the healed, plum coloured lesions that stretch across your tender skin in menacing shapes akin to claw marks. “What are you doing?” Though he never mentions or discusses it verbally due to the guilt he feels, sometimes Paul becomes hyper aware of the scars of his unmediated passion that mar your skin and tries to make up for them in his own wordless ways.
Except, this only ever happens when you're underdressed or the two of you are indulging in activities typical to couples and the sight of them reminds him of their cause. He has never stormed into the house stark naked and marched up to you like an unreadable oversized pup on the brink of tears like this. 
“I am sorry.” You nearly jump due to how unexpected the sound of his words are. Usually he just sulks in silence. “Baby, I am so sorry” Paul never speaks when he is in one of these moods. Especially when he is experiencing bouts of guilt for his actions during his first encounter with you. “Oh, God” his body grows heavy against yours as he practically pushes his face into the crevices like he wants to become one with them and fill them back up to their original state with parts of himself. 
“Paul— oof!” Your smaller body yields to his weight and the ground slips from underneath your feet. “D- Did the guys say something?” You fear the worst as Paul's protective hands catch you before your back can hit the wooden ground and you cannot help but whimper from how his lips lock with the scars in thick, desperate and hurried apologetic kisses. 
Paul and his pack mates play rough and sometimes they go too far with the teasing. So though he clings to the tough guy act in front of them, he dismantles into you once he is home if their words ever get too far. Yes, the tussling and fighting is not enough if it's serious. And just sometimes, when it gets too much for him to bottle it up, he shares some of it with you. But most often not, since he knows how you feel about the pack and he does not like to worry you.
“I am sorry it has taken me this long to say it out loud, baby… but I am so sorr—”
“Paul, hey, look at me” but he refuses to detach himself from your skin in his shame, his big hands safely holding your whole body up against his. “You don't have to—” you cannot help it, you hate to see him like this when you know how badly he regrets it. You hate for him to hurt.
“But I do” he nearly growls against your skin, his fingers tightening on your hips to brace himself against the war in his head. “There’s not a day that goes by where I don't regret it.”
“But you didn't do it on purpose, baby” you sigh when he refuses to let you see him. Your fingers try to pry his stubborn face upwards. “And you worked and improved for us, didn't you, hm?” Your eyes earnestly search for his. “Don't sell yourself so short.” One of your hands rubs his tense shoulders to try and ease their guilt-stricken stiffness. 
“All the same” ever the stubborn knucklehead. “I should have done this a long time ago. But I was selfish and I was afraid that if I verbally mentioned it…” He hesitates and the love you behold for him renders you helpless against a burning urge to reassure him. 
“My love—”
“I was scared you'd get reminded of it and…” He takes a deep breath and then gulps down the bile in his throat, blinking back tears. “L- Leave me…” Paul's voice is barely a whisper and your heart breaks at how vulnerable he sounds. “And I am such an asshole for it because it had more to do with my fear of you leaving me than you reliving your trauma…” 
“Paul…” You blink and try to focus, but his warm gropes and caresses falter your steam of thought. 
“I love you, I really do, so much” he peeks up at you just a little, dark eyes frightened for the first time since the day he scarred you. “Please forgive me. I don't ever want to lose you. I know what I did was irreversible but I swear I'll spend the rest of my life fixing it… if you'll let me.” You shake your head. 
Does he really think there's an off chance that you will leave? 
“Paul” when you cup the side of his face, he hides into your stomach again. “Hey,” you try to duck your face closer to his. make him look at you. “Look at me” your intended request comes out an order due to all the emotions you feel. “I forgave you a long time ago. That's the reason why I am still here” you finally manage to place your forehead against his, making your breaths mingle with his. “I love you more, so much more.” He opens his mouth to drone so you beat him to it. 
“Now shut up and kiss me.”
Paul is taken aback at your demand, his widening eyes prove it. But as surprising as it may be for him, this isn't something that was unresolved for you until today -unlike him- so you aren't as overwhelmed with angst. Because your mate has proven his love, devotion and worthiness of you through his actions over the course of your relationship. He has shown you that he loves you and that he is sorry for what he did. 
If anything, his innocently intimate and lovestruck worship of your body has fired it up instead of making it sentimental. 
And so you want him. 
Bad.
“But—”
“No buts. Kiss me.” You are breathless as you urge him to do so, your hands try to pull his face closer into yours although in vain because his bigger and stronger form remains unbudging. 
Paul's eyes search yours for assurance. “... Yes, ma'am” he whispers once finds it and the next thing you know, you're being pounced down onto the floor with his arms cased around you to protect you from the impact. 
And though you always feared that him getting physical in this manner would trigger you, you giggle against his mouth that he drags across your chest and up your throat to clamp onto yours. Your arms circle around his broad shoulders and instead of trying to repel him -like you suspected you would despite having grown to trust him now- you pull him closer as you whimper into the tender yet hungry kiss, feeling your legs climb the lower half of his body instinctively.
“Paul~” you needily blabber against his tongue that he uses to enjoy the sweetness of your mouth, his balmy lips enveloping everything your mouth has to offer in tight, big kisses. “Mm~” your chest aches from the strain the lack of oxygen puts on your lungs but your sparking nether regions only scoot closer to his that you feel riling up against yours, your hips grinding against his and limbs tightening around his rock hard body.
“Mine” he growls against your mouth when he has no choice but to pull apart at last, his coarse fingers groping you in greedy handfuls while peeling away any fabric that hurdles their path to your skin. “All mine” you moan at the feeling of his teeth grazing against the tender skin of your boobs that he sprays with kisses and licks. “God, mouse, I love you so much” the strength he puts into pushing everything you wear on your upper body away from it leaves you breathless. You love the thrill you feel when his touch feels like he is on the horizons of the dangers he is capable of. When he is so worked up and desperate that he cannot help but get rough because your sweet sweat and arousing body heat fires him up the way it does. You are addicted to the sight of him not giving in to his beastly impulses despite all that because he loves you so much. It is scary, yes. But it turns you on too.
“I love you too, Paul” though he likes to act cocky and all-knowing most of the time, you know he needs to hear it too. Underneath all that knucklehead play fighting and manhandling of his, he needs reassurance just as much as the next person and though he tries not to burden you as his different lifestyle is hard enough for you as it is, you don't have to be part wolf to feel him and hear his heart. 
“You're so perfect…” The way he peppers wet kisses along your cheekbone whilst relieving you of the rest of your clothing causes for your eyes to flutter close to cherish the tingling feeling that sparks your body alight. “Just—” when you try to reach for him to also make it enjoyable for him, he plants your hands above your head and softens your confused pout with a kiss. “Just let me take care of you today, yeah? Don't worry about anything.” 
“But— oh!” He reaches for the mating mark that sits on the right side junction of your neck where a she-wolf's mating glad would be. And though you lack the physical features to feel him through it, the meaning that it holds for Paul serves as a bridge for the biological gap. “Oh…” You turn your head sideways to rub your cheek against his shaved one, your hips roll into his hand that dips between your legs and you shudder against Paul's hot tongue that drags across the impressions of his teeth that crevice your skin. 
“Taste so fuckin' sweet, baby” there is a strain in Paul's voice because of how much strength it is taking him to hold himself back from impaling you full of his cock right there. “So perfect” the lower half of his body leaps down so he can rub his bare erection against the softness of your leg. 
You moan at the feeling. “Paul,” you whisper into his hair, the feeling of his sharp teeth causing for slick to sizzle up to your entrance from the inside. He growls out a quiet yes, baby against the mark, one hand constantly caressing the dents running along the width of your stomach. “Don't hold back” you go to touch his rock hard cock and he grunts in denial, seizing your wrist in his fingers faster than you can blink. 
His face comes up to dominate your vision. “No, mouse, tonight is all about you” another kiss squishes out any protest you can form and when his invasive tongue has your nostrils flared from the breathlessness, Paul drags it down your writhing body in the company of heavy pecks until his mouth is between your thighs and he is propping one up with a broad shoulder and the other with his hand that isn't occupied with caressing the evidence of his temper. 
“Paul—!” He knows how shy you get when he is between your legs like this. 
But it's not his fault you taste so fulfilling. 
“Sh, little mouse, you're perfect” he kisses any and all insecurities away with gentle kisses, the hand that cases one of your thighs stroking the tender inside with its thumb. “And you taste so good too” he takes his time worshiping your pelvis, deliberately leaving out your pussy to save the best for last. And though you pretend to disapprove and whine for him to come back up and just fuck you instead, his soft kisses that vibrate into your skin every time he moans at the feeling of your nether skin touching his slightly chapped lips, you find yourself helplessly crying out for more at the end. 
“Paul, please!” You feel his mouth twist into a smirk and your hands dart to finger his thick hair to withstand the sensation of his mouth hovering over your petals. 
“Please what, mouse?” You roll your eyes at the taunt in his voice. 
“Please touch me!” Your fingers impatiently tug at his short strands and he grins.
“Oh, mouse, but I am touching you” you whine and his shoulders vibrate under your knees from his devilish mirth. 
“Y- You know what I mean!” Though your cheeks are already aflush, you feel new heat seep underneath the layers of the reddened skin. 
“Mmm, but I thought you wanted me to—”
“Paul!” You desperately whine and he lets out a deep cackle.
“Fine, geez” he is so mean when he gets smug. You go to scowl down at him but he takes the mound between your legs in a deep handful and feels the slit between your petals in a vertical caress of his thumb before you do and you end up letting out a loud moan instead. “Needy much?” You bite your lip and wantonly roll your hips closer to his mouth. “Tsk, tsk. Impatient little mouse���” The tip of his digit presses between your nether lips that are dusted with pearly discharges of your arousal and a cherry red flush and your hips buck in anticipation. “You're lucky that you're so pretty and I like you so much…” Your spine trembles in your skin when you feel the coarse skin of his thumb against your ultrasensitive folds. “Because I typically don't appreciate things so small ordering me around…” Your back arches when he finally sticks the hot tip of his tongue between your nether lips.
“Oh…” You feel your toes curl. “More, please, Paul, more.”
He is so enchanted by your sweet scent and addictive taste that he is ignorant to anything that isn't your body. “But you, my dear mouse, you're something else…” His strong hands take your ass in them and he firmly kneads the plump skin, talking pretty much over you with a lust-drunken madness. You mewl out a moan at the feeling and Paul growls at the sound you make, pulling you closer to his mouth as he presses an open kiss to your pussy. “Fuck,” he groans and licks his lips that glisten from your slick, his own tip leaking at the taste of you. “I've never tasted anything like you before and I sure as hell am never gonna get tired of it.” 
“Paul!” you cry out when his tongue twirls against your entrance, his nose rubbing against your clit to caress it with the tip as he begins to eat you out.
His growl that vibrates your soaked folds to a buzzing life causes your eyes to roll to the back of your head. “Paul” you moan breathlessly, his name turning to a prayer as you tremble on the verge of releasing more slick.
“Gimme that sweet cum, baby, let me taste it” your lips part and you can't help but arch into his mouth with need. His hands are merciless, the one on your ass kneads it with rough gropes as the other massages the underside of your thighs in broad, determined strokes. You moan and writhe against him, your vision blurring at the hot waves that take over your body.
“I am gonna— oh, Paul!” He moans against you as you tremble and then release more even slick into his mouth. His tongue is in heaven as he greedily licks up all he can get. 
“Fucking hell, baby” the grainy tip of his tongue pokes and prods at your entrance, working the little hole open. “I can't wait to stuff this pretty little pussy full of my pups.” 
“Mmm, oh fuck, Paul, oh fuuuck” when he finally penetrates the tight barrier and his hot tongue invades your sensitive cavern, the burning knot between your hips gets tighter. Paul moans at the feeling of your delicate walls and though the vibrations of his doing so shakes you to your core, you cannot help but greedily wrap your legs around his head to both stay in place and withstand the pleasure.
“Oh, God, Paul, ’m so close!” Your voice is a breathless mewl and he growls at the vulnerable sound, his cock hurting from need. “Oh, fuck” you tremble so badly that you'd collapse into the ground if your knees weren't propped up by your mate's shoulders. “Oh fuck, oh fuck” Paul’s jaw flexes against your thighs when he begins to fuck you with his tongue, one hand fumbling for your cunt before he tickles the hood with his thumb. Your back arches and you clench your eyes shut, your chest heaving as you gasp out his name.
“Tsk, tsk, mouse” his hot breath fans your sensitive folds and you can't help but whimper at the feeling of his middle finger replacing his tongue. “You need to relax.” His hand that holds your ass pats your cheek in an endearing yet condescending way and your whole body tenses up at the touch even more. “I'm gonna take care of you, baby” you cannot help but rock your hips to his finger stretching your insides out against it. “You're mine and I'll never let you get hurt again, I promise” he croons before pressing a tender kiss to your clitorial nub. “You know that, right?” He kisses the slick covered inside of your thigh next to soothe your shaking body. “Tell me you know you're mine” his possessive words make the heat between your legs to go haywire.
“I am yours, Paul” you breathlessly promise him before letting out a moan when he tickles your folds with his tongue in a praising manner, satisfaction breaking out on his handsome face at your obedience.
“Good mouse” he begins to lap at your nub and your walls tense around his finger as a result, causing for your slick to slosh from the opening and down Paul's hand. “Shh, mouse, easy now” he cooes to get you to relax because of how tightly you are clenching yourself and it only gets worse when he adds a second finger. Your hips are so tight. You are on the edge. “You're gonna let me take care of this cute little pussy, aren't you?” You whimper at the feeling of being stuffed full and being licked at the same time.
“Y- Yes, Paul!” The air is heavy with the smell of slick and the sound of him slurping your juices up.
He adds a third finger and you nearly burst into tears from the pleasure. “Oh God, Paul, I am gonna cum!” Your entrance burns from the stretch and you moan from the bittersweet discomfort. “Please, lemme cum! Wanna cum so bad! Please, please!” Your submissive side comes out because of how overwhelmed you are and Paul can cum from the fragility of your voice right here.
“Hold it for me, mouse, good girl, c'mon” you sob at his cruel denial and he closes his lips around a mouthful of your folds, soundfully sucking at the clammy skin as he speeds his hand up to practically hammer your trembling pussy into an orgasm. Your toes curl and you throw your head back, fingers tugging at his hair as you tremble violently against him. Your back arches from how his free hand pinches and twists your nipples, softly landing occasional smacks to your boobs. “Good girl. I know you can take it” his hand then comes down to massage your ass cheek to make for a better stretch. “Relax, baby” you sob out his name and he smiles against your quivering core, his cheek gently caressing the inside of your thigh to get you to loosen up a little because you are clenching so hard.
“You're doing good, mouse. So good” his lips buzz against your clit. “Take it, baby, take it” your walls twitch against his coarse digits. “That's a good girl” he praises you while continuing to stuff your pussy with his fingers, the feeling of being filled up to the brim causing for you to shake and tremble violently. “That's my good girl” his tongue licks your clit as his fingers curve inside of you to search for your sensitive bundle of nerves that always makes you let out the sweetest of melodies.
“I'm gonna— I can't anymore, Paul!” Neon shapes cloud your vision when his fingers graze your sensitive spot and he growls at the feeling of your walls convulsing around his fingers.
“Yeah, baby. You can cum now” he finally relents and you cry out from the joy. “My little mouse, give me that sweet cum” his mouth never stops moving against you and you are so overcome with emotion that you are not sure if the tears that are streaming down your cheeks are due to pleasure or pain. “Gimme it, mouse. Gimme it” his tongue is like a beast that eats you up to satiate its starvation. You cry out his name from the pleasure.
“Paul! Paul, Paul— oh god!” The tongue is too much, though it gives you everything you could ask for at the moment, you need to escape. But when you try to pull away Paul catches your hips and holds you in place. 
“Now, where do you think you're going, little mouse?” There is a beastliness to his voice.
“N- No, Paul! No more—” you don't get to finish your plea because his mouth clamps down on your sensitive flesh to suckle on it in big, eager kisses again and your heart threatens to burst through your chest.
“Oh fuck” the knot between your legs tightens so hard you cannot maintain it anymore. Vertigo breaks through your hearing. “Oh— Paul!” The orgasm takes over your whole body, your mind blurs from the burst of sensation that courses through your blood and everything turns into a euphoric mess. “O- Oh God…” You tremble from the aftershock and Paul groans when he feels you squirt. He releases your hips and you fall back onto the floor, your body too weak to withstand its own weight. “O- Oh fuck…” You're breathless and your body feels like jelly. “Paul, oh Paul…” Your fingers desperately try to reach for him like you're no older than a baby and you notice that he is stroking his hurting cock because of the need to bury his knot in you, a pained expression etched across his face. “P- Paul, I am ready” though you can barely speak, your body shakes from the need to be filled up by him.
“Mouse… are you sure?” Though his voice strains from the painful need, he prioritizes your comfort over his and your heart wells up.
“Y- Yes” you try to sit up. “Fill me up, please” he needs no more encouragement after that. With a low growl, he jumps onto you and you feel the tip of his cock press against your entrance in a heated caress that makes you whine, your body even forgetting to yelp from how he pounces on you. 
“I'll never hurt you again, mouse” he whispers into your ear as he buries his nose into your hair, cock throbbing between your legs. You gasp when he enters you in a quick thrust that makes for all the air to bolt out of your lungs. “I promise.” You tremble in his hold and Paul groans at the feeling.
“I know” his mouth clamps down on the mating mark upon hearing your whisper and he slowly stretches your pussy to fit around his erection that even after all that fingering is still too big for your tiny cunt. The overstimulation causes for stars to form in your vision. His cock twitches inside you and he growls, the tip of his tongue tickling your nape in need.
“That's a good girl, baby” the hand that cups the side of your face tenderly strokes your cheek. “Relax for me” when your walls finally adjust to his log-like girth, Paul grins against the mating mark. “You're doing so good for me” the thrust of his hips causes for his cock to rub against your sensitive spot and your eyes roll to the back of your head with the feeling. “There's my good girl. You take my cock so well.” He releases his bite, hips pistoning up and down between your legs as he baby talks to you and strokes your hair to comfort you against the overstimulation that makes you whine.
“Paul!” You tremble as he fucks you in slow, long strokes and you cannot help but cry out his name in need.
“I'm here, baby. I got you” he murmurs into your hair and you moan at the baritone of his voice. “Take this cock, baby, you got it” he pants as his fat cock slides in and out of you. Then he suddenly grunts and readjusts you in his hold because the position is not comfortable enough for you and he can feel it. “God, you're so perfect.”
“I love you, Paul” you murmur into his ear, your hips lazily rolling against his as you hold him tight. 
“I love you more” the latter part of his sentence turns into a growl due to his struggle with the positioning and he collects your limp form in his. “And I can do this better” though he roughly pushes your bodies off the floor to head for the bedroom, his fingers subconsciously caress your back in gentle strokes to make up for how your bare skin rubbed into the floor during the ordeal. You whine from how his heavy sack puts a strain on your entrance where your bodies connect as he does so. He cooes praise and reassurance in your ear as comfort, peppering your mouth with gentle kisses.
.
The next morning when he leaves for patrol in a black tank top and some shorts, there is a shy grin on his face as he looks back at the door one last time to wave you goodbye. You blush and return the gesture, biting your lip like it's the morning after your first time with each other. 
“Geez, man, not the dreamy eyes!” A groan sounds from somewhere in the woods and you gasp before ducking behind the door. Chuckles and howls follow. 
The jerk brigade has arrived.
“Someone get these two a room!” You recognize Jake's voice and shake your head as you peek outside from behind your shield. “Oh, wait, they did that already!” You cannot help but snort when you see that Paul has begun to jog in the direction of the voices. “In light of how the whole town learnt all the ways in which Paul's name can be moaned last night” uh, oh. That's not going to be good. Your lover is very private and sensitive about you as it is and when someone tries to pry or joke about matters of this sort he does not appreciate it. Especially if it's his hormonal friends that he knows too well. “Paul, Paul, oh, Paul!” Your cheeks burn in embarrassment and Paul snarls before he flings his shirt off and jumps into the air, transforming into his beastly form midway and disappearing into the woods to attack the offendor.
You see the great trees shake from the tussle that you can practically visualize behind them and the encouraging howls of Paul's pack mates further confirms it. They love to get a rise out of your easily excitable boyfriend and he loves to put them in their place, being the strongest after Sam. Their crossing of each other's boundaries for the sake of fun used to concern you in the beginning but Paul himself assured you that that was just how they played and it was not coming from a bad place. 
So you wait for the ferocious crowd to move further away into the jungle that surrounds your house before you walk down to the dirt road to collect his clothing with a lighthearted shake of your head. A smile graces your lips as you do so and you cannot help but graze the now covered scars that your superhuman lover gave all his love to last night.  
Though it will be a while before he does, you cannot wait for him to come back home to you.
. . .
I am sorry if it sucks omg I really hope you like it <3
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anto-pops · 2 months ago
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Restraint - Sebastian Sallow x Female!Reader
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Summary: Sebastian wasn’t sure whether or not he was grateful for your lack of attention. The clueless facade you maintained where he was concerned made him equal parts angry and confused. Didn’t you know he was a man? An eighteen year old man who catered to your every whim? A legal adult whose room you spent an unorthodox amount of time in? Anyone with eyes could see that Sebastian was into you, and yet you never gave him any sign that you were aware of his feelings for you. 
It was mind-boggling. It was frustrating. He was at the end of his rope.
Word Count: 7.7k
Warnings: 18+, aged up characters, masturbation, intense pining, possessive behavior, cunnilingus, oral fixation/oral smut, explicit sexual content
This random Monday oneshot is also on Ao3
Sebastian had never been one for subtlety. In Ominis’ own words, he wore his heart on his sleeve and let his emotions fuel his tone, but there was little he could do to remedy that fact. Tiptoeing around a subject or beating around the bush never failed to frustrate him. He preferred it when people said what they meant and meant what they said. Being straight up and getting to the point spared him a headache and prevented him from losing his temper, which was the best case scenario for everyone. 
Sebastian said what he wanted, did what he wanted, and never wasted his breath apologizing for his actions when he knew deep down that he wouldn’t mean it anyways. Placations were pointless. 
Unless, however, you were involved. 
Everything about you had driven Sebastian mad for the last three years. From the moment you had arrived at Hogwarts, he had been completely and utterly entranced by you. Then you’d gone and broken his dueling win streak in Defense Against the Dark Arts, and the infatuation had turned into obsession. You were the one person he wouldn’t– no, couldn’t be authentic with. How could he be? You made him stupid. He could barely think straight around you, his mind imbuing him with the sorts of thoughts that would land him in an asylum if he voiced them. If he didn’t filter himself around you, it wouldn’t end well. Not for him, and certainly not for you. 
He didn’t know if your obliviousness to his behavior was all for show or if it was completely genuine, but he didn’t want to risk finding out. 
“Sebastian?” Your voice made him go rigid, the tired rasp to your voice sending his body’s entire blood supply straight between his legs.  
“What?” 
“Do you want to work on that History of Magic report with me later? I fell asleep and missed half of the lecture.” 
He watched you over the rim of his cup, the steam from the hot chocolate wafting into the air and obscuring his view of you slightly. Of course he knew you’d fallen asleep– he had been watching your head bob up and down for twenty minutes in class before the fatigue had won out and you’d slumped over your desk. Professor Binns was always too preoccupied with floating listlessly around the chalkboard to take notice, which was why Sebastian hadn’t bothered to wake you up. If you were tired, you needed to rest. 
More to the point, Sebastian enjoyed watching you when you weren’t looking. What better opportunity was there to do so than while you slept? 
Your chin was daintily perched in your palm as you pushed around the food on your plate, waiting patiently for his answer. With your tired smile and half-lidded eyes, he was convinced you were on the verge of passing out again. How late had you stayed up last night? What had you been doing instead of sleeping? Had you gone out with your friends– or Merlin forbid– someone else?
He banished the train of thought from his mind, lest he piss himself off with the possible answers. “Sure. Library?” 
“Hm… can we go to your room? If I fall asleep again, at least it’ll be in an actual bed.” 
The mental image of you sprawled out on his bed did nothing to alleviate the growing bulge straining against his trousers. His jaw hardened as he breathed in deeply through his nose, then exhaled through his pursed lips. “Yeah, fine. I won’t do the work for you if you fall asleep, though.” 
Your tired expression lit up as you beamed at him, and his stomach churned violently. It was pathetic how smitten he was. He knew he would agree to come to class in a ballgown if it meant getting to glimpse that dazzling grin of yours. 
The smile he gave you was mildly strained, but you didn’t notice. Thankfully. 
Sebastian spent the rest of lunch holding his breath and thinking of anything that fit the criteria of gross and off-putting. He had to. It wasn’t like he could rub one out in the middle of the Great Hall to get rid of the half-mast hidden behind his zipper. He couldn’t even excuse himself to go back to his dorm to take care of it in private– he’d be showcasing the full extent of the problem between his legs to the entire student body if he did. You were none the wiser to his internal turmoil as you rambled on innocently about one thing or another, but he could barely hear you over the rush of blood in his ears. 
He checked the giant grandfather clock against the wall. Twenty more minutes for lunch. With any luck, it would prove to be enough time for his cock to calm the fuck down. 
You were always late. 
Sebastian had grown accustomed to your unyielding habit of showing up places behind schedule. In the beginning it had bothered him, if only because he was the exact opposite. He had to be early to everything on his agenda, otherwise he was panicky and on edge. But your reliable tendency to arrive after an agreed upon time was exactly what he needed right now, because if he didn’t kill the boner he’d been sporting since lunch, he was going to lose his fucking mind. 
The dorm was empty since all of his roommates were either in the Library or in Hogsmeade, but Sebastian still tried to stifle his noises. Choked moans of your name were bitten back and swallowed as his fist furiously worked the aching length of his cock. There was nothing sensual or graceful about how he moved his hand– it was all frantic. Berserk, even. His fingers were pressed roughly against his shaft, his wrist twisting rapidly over the head as he tried to practically yank his orgasm out. Any other day he would be ashamed of how pitiful he had to look, but not now. 
Right now, he was desperate. He had to stave off his cravings for you as a precaution before you showed up, otherwise he knew he’d be done for. 
A quick succession of three knocks sounded from the door, halting his movements. Then Sebastian’s blood ran cold when he heard your voice from the other side. “Sebastian? Are you here?” 
The stinging slap from his hand clamping over his mouth worked to snap his mind out of its lust-induced haze. Squeezing the base of his cock with bruising strength, Sebastian let his head fall back against the headboard of his bed as tears of frustration and pent-up pleasure filled his eyes. He blinked them back stubbornly, digging his teeth into his thumb as his entire body seized with agitation. 
Figures that this was the one time you were actually early. 
You started knocking again, your knuckles rapping against the wood of the door faster, your impatience permeating the air on your side of the wall until it was too much to bear. 
Sebastian snarled as he hastily stuffed himself back in his pants, at a complete loss for how to proceed. He was hardly in a state to be around you right now. All of this had been so he wouldn’t be a fraught mess around you, but now things were ten times worse. His legs were tense as he swung them over the side of the bed and made his way to the door, taking an extra moment to readjust his painfully hard cock in his pants before undoing the lock and wrenching the door open. 
“Finally,” you huffed angrily, your narrowed eyes widening when they took note of his flushed, sweaty face. “Merlin, what’s wrong with you? Are you sick?” 
“You’re early,” Sebastian replied flatly, ignoring your question completely. 
“Yeah, Garreth offered to help Poppy out at the stalls for me so I came over sooner. What’s the matter with you?” 
“I–” Shit, what did he say? His brain scrambled for an excuse, his red cheeks and disheveled clothing leaving little room for interpretation. Unless… “I was working out. Getting ready for Quidditch next week. I thought I’d have more time to finish up and shower, but now you’re here.” 
“Oh! I’m sorry, I forgot about Quidditch. Figures Imelda is making you prepare early,” you waved your hand over your shoulder in the general direction of the bathroom. “Go ahead, don’t stop on my account. I can start reviewing what notes I did manage to take today.” 
Sebastian wasn’t sure whether or not he was grateful for your lack of attention. The clueless facade you maintained where he was concerned made him equal parts angry and confused. Didn’t you know he was a man? An eighteen year old man who catered to your every whim? A legal adult whose room you spent an unorthodox amount of time in? Anyone with eyes could see that Sebastian was into you, and yet you never gave him any sign that you were aware of his feelings for you. 
It was mind-boggling. It was frustrating. He was at the end of his rope.
And he still needed to shower. 
“Give me ten minutes,” he muttered under his breath, more to himself than to you. You nodded and stepped inside his room, watching as he stiffly grabbed a change of clothes and a towel before striding past you without a second glance. 
If the universe held any affection for him at all, a cold shower would be enough to loosen the tight knot in the pit of his stomach. 
Unsurprisingly, Sebastian’s excursion to the bathroom was unsatisfying. The shower head ought to count itself lucky that it was still mounted to the wall and not lying in a broken, dented heap on the floor. The icy spray of water had eased the problem between his thighs, but it had also snapped him out of his stupor, sharpened his senses, and left him with the grating realization that nothing would help him quench his thirst for you. 
After donning a pair of pajama pants and an old Quidditch jersey that had definitely seen better days, Sebastian slowly– painfully– made his way back to you. He dimly towel dried his hair as he shuffled towards the door, giving himself as much time as possible to steel his nerves and barricade his lustful thoughts behind a mental, brick shield. A chill snaked its way up his spine as the cold air of the Slytherin dorms kissed his damp skin, but he barely paid it any mind. 
He would rather be cold than embarrassingly hard. 
When Sebastian pushed the door open, he found you laid out on his bed on your stomach, a textbook and a pile of notes situated before you. You’d shed your robes and were clad in your school uniform, the trousers you’d stubbornly kept since last year acting like a second skin. The passage of time was ultimately Sebastian’s greatest enemy, because with every month that went by, you changed. Physically changed. You were taller, curvier, and more womanly than ever. Instead of replacing your uniform with one that fit, you held on to ones from years past that had no business living in your drawers. 
That perky ass of yours was going to be his undoing. Why did that outdated pair of trousers have to hug your hips so nicely? 
He averted his gaze to the wall, curling his hands into tight fists that left violent red crescents on his palms. Get a grip, he thought to himself. 
“You certainly made yourself comfortable,” he finally managed to bite out, his voice strained and pitched higher than normal. Idiot. 
You glanced over at him with what he could only describe as a doe-eyed look. Those plush lips of yours were parted in mild surprise before they curled up into an easy smile, and your feet proceeded to kick up in the air playfully. “Your bed is much more comfortable than the one in my dorm.”
Deep breaths. Deep fucking breaths, Sebastian. 
“Is that why you’ve practically moved in here? Not sleeping well in your own room?” 
“Among other things,” you admitted around a sigh. “Don’t pretend like you don’t live for my company though. What else would you do if I wasn’t around to pester you?” 
“Relax, most likely.” He allowed himself a shit-eating smirk, and he was rewarded by the sound of your indignant gasp. Closing the distance between you both, Sebastian sat down on the edge of the bed, confidently moving so that he was situated against the headboard for the second time today. You shifted around to give him more space, then brazenly draped your legs over his before shoving your notes into his lap. 
His smirk vanished, and it took everything in him not to let out the choked groan that bubbled in his throat in response to the close proximity. “Whatever. You love me, and we both know it,” you huffed tauntingly, your downcast eyes keeping you from seeing the way his adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed thickly. “Now read over this and tell me if I got most of the important material. Then I can start drafting the paper.” 
History of Magic was the one class that never failed to make everyone sleepy, but presently? Working on an assignment like this with you in the wake of his shitty day? Sebastian had never been more awake, and it had everything to do with how pent-up he was. With excruciating restraint, he blocked out the feeling of your legs weighing down on his thighs and picked up the notes. 
It was going to be a long, long evening. 
It hadn’t been easy for Sebastian to maintain his composure for an hour straight, and there was even more truth to that fact now. You were still propped up against the bedpost with your notes scattered around you, your legs still tossed lazily over his, only you wouldn’t stop fidgeting. 
Seriously. Sitting still was a foreign concept to you and had been for the last twenty minutes, because your feet wouldn’t quit fucking rubbing together. That wasn’t the direct cause of Sebastian’s frayed composure. It was the fact that your incessant twitching was pulling on the fabric of his pants, drawing the material taught over his groin over and over and over. It wasn’t an unusual thing for you to get so restless after studying for so long without a break, but considering that his impromptu masturbation session had been cut short earlier, he was loads more anxious than usual.  
He didn’t mean to be so aggressive when he slapped his hands over your knees, stilling your absentminded writhing with a scowl. Later on he would apologize– and mean it– for being so harsh. But if he didn’t put a stop to your shifting, he was going to have bigger problems that superseded you being upset with him. 
“Hey!” Your head snapped up from your notes, your grip on your quill turning white knuckled as you openly glared at him. “That hurts. Let go–”
“Stop moving so much, you’re driving me insane!” He fired back defensively, hating how gruff his voice sounded. “Is it too much for you to sit still?” 
Your brows rose up your forehead in complete bewilderment, your expression warring between offended and shocked. “You could just ask next time instead of trying to dislocate my kneecaps. Merlin…” Sebastian didn’t know whether to be relieved or disgruntled when you attempted to withdraw your legs from his lap. Either way, he refused to let you move the limbs, and your loud sigh was laced with blatant vexation. “Let go, I’ll just move–” 
“No. I don’t want you to move, I just want you to relax.”
Your wary gaze pierced right through him, and if he wasn’t already coiled tighter than a fucking spring, he would stiffen at the way your lower lip jutted out into a pout. You obeyed, though, your legs staying mercifully still as you went back to reading over the notes he had added to, and Sebastian took the opportunity to watch you through his lashes while he pretended to look down at the papers in his own lap. 
Mussed strands of hair fell into your face, a byproduct of how frequently you’d run your fingers through them. Following summer break, you had returned to school with a light smattering of freckles dusting your nose. They couldn’t hold a candle to the ones that covered damn near every inch of him, but they were still pretty. Cute, even. The dark rings under your eyes would have looked sickly on anyone else, but in your case, they made the whites of your eyes all the more vibrant. You looked like a doll. 
A scrumptious, effortlessly beautiful doll. 
He watched as you sucked your bottom lip between your teeth, scratching out something you had written before hastily replacing the sentence with another. When the bit of skin was released, it was left red, swollen, and far more tempting than it had any right to be. 
He wanted to kiss you. He wanted to bite at your lips, your neck, your breasts, and leave imprints of his teeth all over you. He wanted to mark every inch of your body and lay his claim in some primal, unseemly way that went against every lick of gentlemanliness he had been taught. He wanted to toss his inhibitions to the wind and indulge in the taste of you– something he had wondered about for a long, long time. Were you as sweet as he imagined? Would your thighs work to crush his head if he found himself situated between them, lapping up your essence like a man starved? 
When your head popped up to glance at him again, Sebastian was unprepared for it. He was still staring– no, ogling you– with his eyes narrowed and his chest rising and falling rapidly. His fantasies had gotten the better of him and had left him a panting, lust-drunk mess. Another cold shower couldn’t even begin to lessen the painful throbbing of his cock. All of his hard work at keeping calm and in control had just flown out the fucking window, and he could only thank the stars in the sky that he had a pile of notes in his lap, concealing the evidence of his innermost thoughts. 
“Are you sure you’re not coming down with something?” You asked him, abandoning your quill against the mattress so you could sit forward and scan his very flushed, very tense face. 
“I’m fine,” he looked away, trying and failing to wave you off. 
Stubborn as ever, you didn’t back down. “You’re all red. Do you have a fever?” 
“Seriously– I’m fine. Don’t worry about it, just finish your report already.” 
The force of his heart hammering against his sternum left him worried that it was about to jump out of his ribcage. Your hand was suddenly closing in on him, concern etched across your features as you shifted your legs to move closer into his space. The tantalizing smell of your perfume oil invaded his senses, filling his nose and setting his blood alight in his veins. There was something to be said about how primal humans could be when it came to scents. Yours had always been incredibly intoxicating, and Sebastian was all too willing to breathe it in deeply as the back of your hand made contact with his forehead. 
He was so fucked. 
“You’re burning up. Maybe we should call it a night… you probably need to sleep it off.” 
“I don’t need sleep,” he insisted with a frown, reaching up to pry your hand away from his face. “I already told you; I feel fine. Just drop it.” 
That spark of rebellion you reserved for your most loathed enemies came to life behind your irises, burning brighter than the sun as you narrowed your eyes at him and tried to plant your hand against his forehead again. Sebastian held you back with little effort, your arm shaking with the force you exerted in your attempts. “You’ve been weird all day– if you’re sick, you need to be checked out. So either you tell me what’s wrong with you, or I’ll drag you to the Hospital Wing myself.” 
That dark, animalistic part of him that conjured up the most obscene of daydreams silently laughed at your threat. Drag him? You couldn’t move him if you tried. He was infinitely stronger than you– broader, faster, tougher. You were the prey his inner predator yearned to claim. It was your fault that he was so out of it today, and yet you had the gall to order him around? 
With the utmost difficulty, Sebastian checked himself in record time, reining in the bestial side of him as his grip on your wrist tightened. “For the last time, nothing is wrong. If you can’t accept that, then leave. There’s the door. You have your notes– go finish your report in your own room.” 
You scoffed and strained in his hold, realizing that your attempts at moving your hand forward were fruitless. Then, faster than Sebastian could process, you threw your other arm out– deciding that if he was going to hold back your left hand, your right could pick up where the other had left off. He instinctively jerked you sideways to throw you off balance, which sent you careening forward against his chest. A guttural, almost pained groan ripped from his throat when your palm pressed directly against the throbbing bulge in his pants, your efforts to catch yourself effectively giving him away. 
The jig was up. Your hand was right on his cock, the notes in his lap crinkling loudly as your fingers flexed in alarm. His eyes, which had squeezed shut in response to the abrupt contact, cracked open to find you blinking up at him blearily. “S-Sebastian?” 
“Stop. Just don’t,” he grit through his teeth, his molars clenching together so roughly that he was certain his jaw would lock. 
“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t– I shouldn’t have–” you tried to backpedal away from him to remove yourself from his personal space, but you only succeeded in applying more pressure to his groin. A choked whimper escaped his lips, the sound forming too quickly for him to stifle it and too loudly for you to have missed it. 
Fuck. 
Sebastian blindly yanked you forward so the brunt of your weight was pressed against his chest. His arm wrapped around your waist to prevent you from escalating the situation further, and the sigh of relief that slipped through his teeth when you moved your hand away from his cock was pathetic. He was pathetic. 
He was glad that you couldn’t see his face when he desperately whispered, “Don’t– don’t fucking move. Please, just… give me a minute.” 
That was all he needed. A moment of reprieve. He needed sixty, uninterrupted seconds to focus on his breathing– to imagine a Dugbog in a swimsuit, or Madame Scribbner in lingerie. He needed to cycle through the things that never failed to kill his libido, and he could only do that if you let him. 
You didn’t. Fuck– you didn’t even give him five seconds to open his eyes. Before he knew what was happening, your hand was back on his cock, your fingers digging into the parchment that covered his lap as you fucking squeezed his pulsing length with intention. 
The effect was instantaneous, and the sounds that fell from Sebastian’s lips were ones that would be seared into your brain until the end of time. His brain, too. He had never made such a wretched noise in all his eighteen years of living. 
“Don’t make me throw you off this bed,” he growled slowly, but the high-pitched edge to his voice made it seem like despite his words, he was secretly pleading for it.
The image of himself climbing over you on the hardwood floor, pinning those damnable hands of yours above your head with one hand while the other was knuckle deep in your tight, fluttering cunt flooded his mind, and the brick wall of restraint he had constructed earlier crumbled into dust. He sucked down a shaky breath, his entire body vibrating with need as you gave him yet another testing squeeze, and that was what finally prompted him to seek out your eyes. 
They were glimmering with unrestrained curiosity, something strangely like wonder dancing behind your pupils. “What the hell are you doing?” 
“I don’t know,” you admitted breathlessly, the prettiest flush Sebastian had ever seen spreading across your cheeks as you glanced down to where you gripped him. “I just… is this why you’ve been so out of it today?” 
“You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into,” he rumbled, his mind urging him to shove you away while his body begged him to arch into your touch. “You better stop while you still have the chance.” 
“But…” you trailed off, squeezing him for the third time and jumping when he hissed loudly through his teeth. “This seems pretty bad. Painful, even.” 
If he wasn’t so wound up, he would have laughed. “You don’t even know the half of it.” 
Sebastian was convinced that he was the hardest he had ever been. The dual sensations of your hand on his cock and your shallow breaths fanning across his cheek had him dripping precum, the fluid swiftly soaking through the fabric of his pants and creating a stark wet patch that you noticed immediately. Almost testingly, you swiped your thumb over the spot, sending a bolt of arousal straight through him that left him gasping with need. 
His willpower was shot. It was going to take a fucking miracle to come back from this. You had effectively taken every last bit of Sebastian’s resolve and crushed it all beneath your heel, leaving him trembling and keening as every part of your being invaded his senses and held him hostage. 
“Fuck– please,” he moaned, burying his face in the crook of your neck. He couldn’t look at you right now– it would be the end of everything if he did. The end of this insanely euphoric moment, the end of his restraint, and maybe even the end of his friendship with you. This was… uncharted territory. He was scared to explore it, but gods, did he want to. “Please, I can’t– I can’t take it…” 
He heard you swallow, your hesitation evident in the way you paused before lifting your hand away from his groin. The wrist he had held apart from you slipped free, his fingers closing over nothing but air, and a wave of disappointment crashed over him. Every inch of skin you pried away left him emptier and emptier, his heart and his dignity deflating with each passing second. His chest felt tight, and he was fully prepared to sit there in agonizing silence while you gathered your things to leave as fast as your legs could take you. 
But then your hands were back– on either side of his face to tilt his head up to yours– and his sharp intake of breath was smothered by your soft, delectable lips pressing against his. 
Bloody hell. 
You weren’t leaving. 
A switch flipped. 
A carnal growl ripped from the back of his throat, and then he had you splayed out on your back with his knee wedged insistently between your thighs. He faintly heard the sound of your notes being scattered across the floor, but your startled gasp transforming into a hapless moan was more important. His lips crashed back into yours with zeal, the mask he had maintained this entire time dissipating like smoke in the wind, and his tongue bullied its way into your mouth, probing and tasting as though he didn’t have enough time to memorize every facet of information he unearthed. 
You tried to match his pace the best you could, nipping at his lips and breathing heavily into his mouth, but your attempts only annoyed Sebastian. He asserted dominance by grabbing your chin between his index finger and thumb, then pried your lips apart with his tongue and conquered your mouth wholly and without subtlety. 
“I need you,” he panted against your face, his fingers digging sharply into your hips. “I need you so bad, darling.”
You could only moan shakily when Sebastian dove back in to latch his lips over your pulse, peppering your neck with wet, sloppy kisses and decorating it with an assortment of love-bites. His teeth left a trail of imprints that his tongue worked to soothe, comforting you like he always had while hopelessly committing the taste of your salty skin to memory. 
Sebastian felt you shudder as he worked his way up the column of your neck to the sensitive area below your ear. He nipped at the warm flesh waiting for him there, and when you whined and shamelessly bared more of yourself to him, he couldn’t stop himself from grinding his clothed cock against your hip. “Please, fuck– let me taste you. I’ll do anything you ask, just spread your legs and let me make you feel good.”
Your breathing hitched, and you tried to turn your head towards him, but he was too busy panting against your neck to meet your flustered stare. “S-Sebastian–” 
“Please, darling. I’m fucking begging here. Let me in. Let me do this.” 
Sebastian sounded drunk, his mind positively swimming with lust. The prospect of getting to see you like this, of getting to touch you, was driving him absolutely insane. His voice was airy and reedy– almost choked as though he couldn’t get the words out fast enough. 
“I– I’ve never done this before,” you stammered softly, your cheeks flushing with humiliation at the revelation. 
Sebastian’s head snapped up, a fire burning behind his eyes as he stared down at you with newfound hunger, and he knew without a shadow of a doubt that he had to look deranged. “You– no one has ever touched you like this? Never?” 
“I mean, I’ve been kissed before, but not…” you trailed off, suddenly bashful in the face of your inexperience. “I don’t know what I’m doing.” 
Something buried deep inside of him broke free at that moment– a wild, untamable piece of himself that salivated at the fact that you were a virgin. No one had ever laid with you before. No one had ever glimpsed the intimate, private parts of yourself that were always hidden beneath that damn uniform. He would be the first– he would be your first. It should have been impossible, but the thought alone made him harder, his cock straining and leaking so much precum that he wouldn’t be surprised if it was dripping through the fabric of his pants. 
Rational thinking returned to him then, and he was able to blink back the fog that shrouded his morals. “We can stop,” he croaked, not meaning a fucking word of it. “Fuck– tell me to stop and I’ll leave you alone. We can’t come back from this. Tell me to back off and I will.” 
“I…” uncertainty washed over your pretty features, and much like before, Sebastian’s heart sank into the pit of his stomach. He was so selfish. He was such a self-serving bastard– he didn’t want you to call him off. He wasn’t the religious type in the slightest, but for the first time in his entire life, Sebastian started honest to God praying that you wanted this. That you wanted him. 
He was going to have to make a point to pray more, because after a few tense beats of silence, he heard you shyly murmur, “I don’t want you to stop.” 
Fuck. Thank Merlin. 
There would be time later to be embarrassed about how his body sagged with relief. He was too busy kissing you again to bother with such a trivial emotion right now. Savoring your taste with a deep groan, Sebastian allowed himself a minute to grind against your hip, then moved back so he could begin the laborious process of stripping your too-tight trousers from your legs. It took longer than he would have liked, but once the attire reached the base of your ankles, he was able to rip them off and discard them haphazardly over his shoulder. 
“Need to burn those,” he growled. “They drive me crazy.” 
A brief huff of amusement came from you, and you squeezed your knees together in some feeble attempt to hide yourself from him. “They’re just pants.”
He didn’t have the mental capacity to get into why he had such a potent love-hate relationship with the clothing. Instead of explaining himself, he reached out to pry your legs apart, taking immense satisfaction in the way you squeaked and your entire face turned red. “Let me taste you. I’ve been wanting to for so fucking long– I swear I’ll make you feel good, love.” 
Sebastian was sure that if he opened a dictionary to look up the word ‘disoriented’, there would be a photo of your face printed right next to it. You had never looked at him like that before; flushed, wide-eyed, and with traces of both confusion and arousal shadowing your tight features. Your expression had no right to rile him up the way it did, but he wasn’t interested in hiding his thirst for you. Not anymore. 
“Are you sure?” You asked him, voice quivering. “That– I mean, if it’s gross or anything, don’t feel like you have to.” 
Sebastian scoffed. You had no clue how extensive his fantasies were. As if he could ever be grossed out by you. 
The level of innocence you displayed only spurred him on faster, and he eagerly sat forward to cover your mouth with his again, his fingers deftly undoing the buttons of your blouse so he could wrench it over your shoulders. Even though he was vibrating with barely contained need, he had to allow himself a moment to take in the sight of you completely bare, the staps of your brassiere hanging seductively over the sides of your arms and tightening the knot in the pit of his stomach. Your undergarments had to be as outdated as your trousers, because they were snug, short, and way too sheer to qualify as new. 
He needed to burn those, too. 
Sebastian watched you with predatory intent as he slipped his fingers under the waistband of your unmentionables, letting his nails scratch against your thighs when he began to drag the clothing down your legs. Without your blouse in the way, he was able to see the full extent of your reddening skin, the color more vibrant than the Gryffindor banners that hung in the Great Hall. Your chest rose and fell rapidly, then stilled when the underwear was fully removed. Save for your brassiere, you were completely bare before him, and Sebastian audibly moaned when he looked down to find your folds glistening with moisture already. 
“I’m going to drink up everything you have to give me until there’s nothing left,” he braced his hands on either side of your hips to lower himself onto his stomach, taking care to plant soft, revering kisses against your hip bones. “I know you taste so fucking good. I just know it…” 
Your entire body tensed when you felt Sebastian exhale against your damp center, his eyes fluttering shut as he inhaled your intoxicating scent. Then before you could collect your bearings, he was licking a broad, flat stripe up your slit, collecting as much of your wetness as he possibly could, and the sensation made you jolt. “S-Sebastian–” you gasped, digging your fingers into the rumpled sheets of the bed in a bid to ground yourself. 
“Yeah, say my name,” he urged roughly, his chest swelling with male pride. The sound of his name on your lips had the same effect as a bolt of lightning; it sliced through him to his very core, electric and unbelievably erotic, and he brazenly covered the entirety of your cunt with his mouth, licking and sucking at whatever parts of you he could reach. 
The wetness that covered you was so extensive, it was hard to tell whether it was your own arousal or Sebastian’s saliva to blame. A cacophony of moans and whines tumbled from your throat without restraint, prompting him to dig his nails into your sides as he hauled you closer. He fucked his tongue into you with inhuman vigor, his jaw aching in protest, but he ignored the discomfort and continued to devour every drop of your essence like he would die if he didn’t. 
It was so messy, too. Sebastian could feel the moisture dripping down his chin, but that only inspired him to work harder– his grip on your waist turning so severe that he knew he would find finger shaped bruises there later. Another mark left by him. Another brand proving that you were his. 
“I knew it,” he panted hoarsely, his voice strained and deep as though he’d been screaming before now. “You taste so good, darling– so fucking sweet.”
“I– Sebastian, I–” you covered your face with your hands, the appendages shaking in earnest as your muscles began to tense. “Fuck, I think I–”
He sucked your clit between his lips then, laving his tongue over the swollen bud with so much pressure that your hips bucked against his face. The chuckle he let loose was guttural and dark, and he broke his unwavering concentration to glance up at you. “Are you close? You want to come for me, huh?” 
Sebastian knew you had to be embarrassed, because you were still hiding behind your hands, the heels of your palms digging into your sockets. He could faintly see the row of teeth-shaped marks that lined your neck, but the majority of his hard work from earlier was concealed by your forearms. That wouldn’t do. He reached up and wrenched one of your arms away to reveal your watery stare, the glassy sheen covering your eyes telling him everything he needed to know about how close to the edge you were. 
“Don’t hide from me. I want to see your face when you fall apart on my tongue.” 
“It’s embarrassing,” your voice shook, as did the hand Sebastian held in his own. “I can’t– it feels hot. Like I’m on fire. I can’t even think–” 
“Then don’t,” he interjected immediately, tenderly kissing the insides of your thighs in a way that made your stomach churn. “Don’t think. Just feel. Let me do all the work, and you just sit there and enjoy every second of it.” 
It was a simple enough concept, but you still yelped when he dove back in, the singular hand he kept on your waist pulling you down so he was smothered by your wet, pulsing cunt. Sebastian didn’t waste any time picking up where he’d left off, his eyes burning as your potent scent drove him into a frenzy. He inhaled sharply as his tongue poked and prodded incessantly, its only goal to collect as much of your slick as possible, the ferocity of his movements making you tremble. Your nerves were totally scorched as the heat within your body reached new levels, the pleasure building in your gut nearing a peak that you were almost afraid to fall over. 
“S-Sebastian, I can’t– ah!” Your words transformed into a keening moan when Sebastian sucked your puffy nub into his mouth again. The bedframe shook in time with your own vibrating, your eyes crossing as the symphony of ecstasy he gave to you climbed to its crescendo. Sebastian’s lungs burned from the lack of oxygen he sucked down, but he didn’t care. If he suffocated to death while fused to your sopping wet cunt, he would die a happy man. 
Breaking away from your clit for a brief moment, he hastily murmured, “Come on, love, let go. Use me and let go.” 
He released your arm and tucked his hand somewhere under his chest, your confusion lasting for all of two seconds before you felt his fingers snaking their way inside of you. There was no resistance thanks to the slick gushing from your hole, the wetness saturating his hand and making him groan with desire. Sebastian’s tongue continued to flick and press against your bundle of nerves with reckless abandon, his fingers pumping and curling in and out of you as you deliriously cried out his name. Your walls tightened around his digits, sucking them deeper at the same time your brows furrowed in alarm, and Sebastian knew he had you right where he wanted you. 
“Sebastian– wait, I can’t– I’m going to–” 
His eyes strained as he fixed them on your face, his lips barely parting from your clit as he encouraged you. “Come on, darling, come on my face. Be a good girl and let go– just let go.” 
The praise drove you clean over the edge, the coil in the pit of your stomach finally snapping as his voice and his fingers and his tongue reduced you to a quaking, moaning mess. Sebastian’s desperation for you consumed you, pure rapture washing over your limbs before they fell boneless against the mattress. Stars danced in the corners of your vision, and you heard and felt Sebastian groan against you before his unrelenting grip on your waist went slack. 
You hardly registered him slipping his fingers free from your cunt and climbing over you until his face was right in front of yours. Sebastian took a flurry of mental snapshots of you, tucking each one into the far reaches of his mind and vowing to himself that he would never forget the fucked-out expression you bore. He made a point to suck the remnants of your pleasure from his digits while maintaining eye contact, and you whimpered breathlessly at the sight. 
“You were so good for me,” Sebastian cooed as he gathered you up in his arms. He moved so his back was nestled against the pillows before repositioning you so your head was tucked against his shoulder. Soothingly, he carded his fingers through your hair as he asked, “Are you okay?” 
“Y-Yeah, I’m fine,” you managed between deep, shuddering breaths. “What about you?” 
“More than okay. Don’t you worry about me.” 
“But…” your eyes flicked down at the same time he tried to cover the blossoming wet patch on his pajama pants. “I thought you didn’t–”
Almost sheepishly, he admitted, “I did. Trust me, that did more for me than you could possibly imagine. I’m sorry for being so aggressive. And for being such a prick today. I just… it’s been hard to rein it in around you recently.” 
He felt your chin dig into the side of his pec as you glanced up at him, the virtuous, doe-eyed look you fixed him with threatening to undo him all over again. “Rein what in?” 
“You can’t honestly tell me you don’t realize the effect you have on me, right?” He pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers, squeezing his eyes shut as he dredged up the very thoughts that had been hounding him for years. “I’m hopeless where you’re concerned. I get stupid. I act like a daft, brainless idiot, and you just strut about without a clue. I thought I’d finally gotten the hang of keeping that under control, but…” 
“Apparently not,” you helpfully supplied, and Sebastian grunted confirmingly. Those blasted trousers of yours had nullified the remnants of his restraint. So had your eyes. And your hands and your voice. All of you was to blame, really. Like he’d said from the very beginning; he was hopeless where you were concerned. 
“Anyway, thank you for… well, that.” 
“Please don’t thank me,” your face pinched, your body going rigid. “Then it will feel transactional, and I don’t want that.” 
Fair point. “What do you want, then?” 
That rosy flush reappeared against your cheeks, and Sebastian had to beat back the smile that threatened to split his face in the wake of your obvious shyness. “I– well… is there anything I can do for you?” 
Yes. No. Maybe? Sebastian’s laugh was humorless, mostly because there wasn’t anything funny about how his cock twitched in interest at the offer. “I don’t think we need to venture down that path right now. Especially since you’ve already given up so much tonight. I honestly feel kind of bad that your first experience was me jumping your bones…” 
“But what if that’s what I want?” His heart leapt up into his throat so fast that he nearly choked. The kind of uncertainty that went hand in hand with inexperience was written all over your face, but the stubborn set to your jaw told Sebastian that you were serious. Was he dreaming? Maybe he had passed out in the bathroom and this was all a very lovely, very cruel figment of his imagination. You pressed on, “Maybe I want to walk down that path with you. There’s no one else I trust as much as you, so… what would be the harm?” 
This time, Sebastian’s chuckle was genuine. He blinked rapidly, sucking in a deep breath in the hopes that it would settle his nerves and calm his racing blood. It didn’t work. “In that case, there’s plenty you could do for me, darling. I still think we should save it for next time, though.” 
You appeared to chew the inside of your cheek, your brows furrowing as you contemplated something that interested Sebastian to no end. Then, before he could process what you were doing, the hand that had been splayed against his chest inched down tauntingly, your nails dragging lightly across his skin. His breathing hitched, and then it stopped entirely when you gripped him through his pants. Much like he’d expected, the conversation had roused his cock back to life, and he was achingly hard in your hand. 
“I want ‘next time’ to be right now,” you declared stubbornly, pulling a hiss from him when your fingers rubbed over the sensitive head of his length. “I’m a little curious about this. You recovered pretty fast, but if you’re too tired…”
The wicked gleam in your eyes conveyed quite clearly that you knew exactly what you were doing. Where had the bashful innocence gone? Sebastian had blinked and suddenly it was like he was staring at a different woman, the challenge in your voice leaving him with one daunting realization. 
Either he had created a monster, or there had always been one lurking beneath the surface. 
His cock twitched again, and Sebastian knew that he was so, so fucked. 
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fcthots · 8 months ago
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Jason Todd with sharp canines that he accidentally nips you with all the time. At some point you kinda just have to shove your hand in his mouth to take a look and find out what the fuck he has in there that could possibly be doing this shit. He just sort of lets you without question and complains in muffled gibberish around your hand.
He does apologize profusely every time he knicks you though (and depending on what he was trying to do, he’ll lick or kiss it better). Unfortunately he refuses to do it on purpose.
But if you distract him enough with your hands tugging on the roots of his hair while he’s trying to leave a hickey… let’s just say he has a hard time focusing on being careful.
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caitlynbuceta · 7 months ago
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MY LORD AND SAVIOR BEAUTIFUL TWINK MALEWIFE
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fashionteahouse · 5 months ago
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How would the pack react walking into Emily's house, and they're really loud, and they see their imprint sleeping on the floor?
this shall be interesting hope you enjoy :)
sleeping on the floor - pack x reader
Sam:
Boisterous noise is normal for the pack mates. Most of them talked loud of what happened during patrol and some talked about how hungry they were. The next tribe could hear their loud mouths. Sam was just ready to see his imprint. Seeing you asleep on the floor, he would make everyone silent with one word.
“Quiet.”
Firm and stern.
Kneeling to make sure that you are sleeping, he smiled softly at your figure and scoop you into his arms. You don’t even know that you had left Emily’s house until you wake up in the warm bed at the home you and Sam share.
Jared:
He talks loud. He laughs loud. He jokes loud. He enjoys it when his pack brothers are loud with him. Bringing vibrancy into the room or wherever they are, brings him immense joy.
Getting close to Emily’s home, both he and his wolf was excited to see their imprint. His pack brothers were loud as always and so was he.
Walking in and finding you asleep, his eyes zero in on you. He immediately tells everyone,
“Shut up. Y/N’s sleeping.”
It’s quiet as he walks over to you and scoops you into his arms and gently kisses your forehead.
“Just can’t keep off of the floor, huh?” he coos to you in a whisper in your ear. With that, he’s taking you home.
Paul:
Getting to Emily’s house meant getting to you. Depending on his mood, he’s in on the rowdiness or he’s just keeping to himself with you and the destination in mind.
He doesn’t mind the boisterous noise.
Pushing open the door, he finds you on the floor fast asleep. He would ask questions on why you’re on the floor later. But now, he has everyone quiet and has everyone’s attention when he grits out,
“Can you all shut the fuck up?”
You’re in his arms fast as he’s already heading out the door. You being disturbed meant that he was disturbed.
Embry:
Not minding his ribs and stomach hurting from the laughing at the jokes and shenanigans of his pack brothers, he’s making his way to Emily’s home.
He couldn’t wait to see you. Being away at patrol meant being away from you. His wolf itched to see you. The man in him itched to see you.
He stops in his tracks when he’s looking for you and finds you sleeping on the floor. Irritated that his pack brothers didn’t get the idea that you were asleep and they were being too loud.
A loud, “Shhhhh.”
It’s ringing through the house and everyone stops and be quiet.
You being picked up from the floor eases his worries as you are now in his arms being carried away. He moves out of the home so you both can go to the home that you both shared.
Jacob:
Being around rowdiness didn’t bother him. He could get just a rowdy. Especially when he disagrees with something. Loud debates that he would have with his pack brothers could be heard from anywhere.
Picking you up from Emily’s house was the thing he was looking forward to. Loud cackles rang in his ears and he enters the home to find you on the floor, asleep.
“Shut up! Shut up!”
They do shut up.
You’re picked up off of the floor and into his strong arms as he carefully takes you out of the house so he could lay right asleep with you, but, just in his bed.
Leah:
Most of the time, the loud boisterous voices got on her nerves. She joined in here and there if you were around, but you weren’t around this time.
You were over Emily’s and that’s where everyone was going to. They wouldn’t shut up about her food.
She just wanted to be close to you and touch you and smell you. She’s the first one through the door with you in mind. She stops in her tracks when she looks down at your sleeping figure on the floor.
“All of you! Shut the hell up.”
The pack was used to her bold nature so they indeed shut the hell up. You’re in her arms and you shift a bit from the change.
She rushed you to a bed for you to sleep in. Just somewhere where loud mouths wouldn’t be located.
Seth:
His pack brothers were talking loud and so was he. He laughed as everyone was outgoing. He liked to have fun. If there was fun and loud conversation, he would join and insert himself.
Heading in the direction of Emily’s home, he got excited as he got closer and closer to you.
Stopping at the doorway, he sees you sleeping, preventing anyone else from entering the home. They all ask him what’s his problem. Loudly.
“Y/N’s sleeping!”
Quietly, they all watch as Seth picks you up with his strength. Seth doesn’t bother to tell them that he’s leaving because he’s already out the door.
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chuulyssa · 5 months ago
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“let me work.”
“no, i’m not letting you work until you give me some attention,” he demanded.
you scoffed loudly, still not looking up at him from your textbook. “don’t you already get enough attention from the media and the fans?”
he had to hold back a scoff, rolling his eyes at the idea. he didn’t want attention from fans. he wanted your attention! but he didn’t want to tell you that and sound like some desperate nerd — because he wasn’t! he was him after all, handsome, popular, and definitely not obsessed with you. 
“not enough, princess. besides, those people fawn over the actor!me, not the real me, ya know—”
“i don’t fawn over you at all, so i don’t know what you’re on about right now.”
“oh.” his smirk faded a bit.
that was true, he realized. you despised him, that was for certain. but he wanted you to want him the way he wanted you.
his gaze watched you intently as you wrote on your notebook, looking down at the paper and not at him. he was jealous of the paper. he wished you were looking at him instead.
but his fans would’ve threatened you until you unalived yourself if they knew. they would’ve ruined your life if they knew. you couldn’t be together, you never could.
so you sighed, once again choosing to ignore the subtle pout on his face and how you fell down the stairs one day thinking about it. how he probably thought you hated him right now, and you’d do nothing to change that.
why?
because you were a coward.
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thewulf · 5 months ago
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Adding One || Paul Lahote
Summary: Request - Hi I love your Paul lahote stories!! I was wondering if you could do one super fluffy where the reader finds out she’s pregnant but is worried how Paul will feel because they’re still young and all the werewolf and vampire stuff is going on at the time!!🩵
A/N: I just love Paul. Thank you for the requests as always! @lunajay33
Pairing: Paul Lahote x Reader
Word Count: 5.4k +
TW: Pregnancy
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The warm scent of blueberry muffins filled Emily’s kitchen mingling with the faint tang of sea air drifting in through the open window. You were slouched in one of the chairs at her table with your cheek resting in your palm as you watched her move about the kitchen. The quiet hum of her voice as she talked about Sam and the pack was comforting, but it was hard to focus. Your stomach rolled again. That new unease building in the back of your mind.
“You’re quieter than usual,” Emily commented. Her voice cutting through the fog of your thoughts. She glanced at you over her shoulder, her sharp eyes softening when they landed on your face. “Are you feeling okay?”
You forced a smile, shrugging like it was nothing. “Just tired, I guess. It’s been a stressful few weeks, you know? All the patrols, Jacob imprinting on… that situation. It’s a lot.” You tried brushing her off.
Emily turned back to her muffins, humming as she pulled them from the oven and set them on the counter. “That’s true. It’s been hard on everyone.” She didn’t say anything else for a moment, but you could feel her watching you out of the corner of her eye. “Are you sure that’s all it is?” she asked gently not wanting to push too hard.
Your smile faltered. “Of course. What else would it be?”
Emily walked over and sat across from you. Her expression calm but concerned. “Well, you’ve been tired a lot lately. And you’ve barely eaten today. You won’t even touch my muffins like you always do. I also saw you push your plate away last week at dinner too.” She tilted her head, her tone as light as she could make it. “And I saw you make a face when I started the coffee earlier. You used to love coffee… I haven’t seen you drink a cup in weeks now.”
You stiffened slightly, trying to brush her off with a laugh. “I’m just… off, that’s all. It’s probably just stress or maybe a stomach bug. Nothing to worry about.” That unease grew in the pit of your stomach though.
She didn’t drop it. “Maybe,” she said slowly. Her dark eyes studying you. “But… have you thought it might be something else?”
You blinked at her, frowning. “Something else? Like what?”
She hesitated before she reached across the table to rest her hand on yours. “I don’t want to assume anything, but… you and Paul are together all the time. Could there be… another reason why you’re feeling this way?”
Her words hit you like a freight train and you immediately shook your head. Your voice pitching higher than you intended. “No. Absolutely not. There’s no way, Emily. We’re careful! I mean, mostly. But… no. That’s impossible.”
Emily gave you a patient look but didn’t pull her hand away. “I know you’re careful,” she said gently. “But accidents happen. When was the last time you had your period?” She asked the dreaded question… when was it?
The question made your heart lurch, and you froze. “I…” shit, you didn’t know, “I don’t know,” you stammered. “It’s been… I mean, I’m not great at keeping track, but…” Your voice trailed off as your mind began counting backward. The realization hitting you like a bucket of ice water on a freezing winter day. Your chest tightened. Your mouth suddenly ran dry.
Emily leaned forward slightly. Her voice soft but steady. “How long has it been?”
You swallowed hard while staring at her as the truth sank in. “I.... A month? Maybe more?” You guessed as you kept counting further back. No, it was more than a month now. It’d been nearly six weeks.
Emily’s expression didn’t change though there was a hint of sympathy in her eyes. “It might not be what you think,” she said carefully. “But maybe… maybe you should take a test. Just to be sure.”
Your stomach flipped at the thought, and you instinctively shook your head again. “I can’t. What if it’s positive? What am I supposed to do? What’s Paul going to say? What about the pack or my parents? Shit! My parents Em!” Your voice cracked, panic bubbling up as the possibility became more real. Pregnant. You couldn’t possibly be pregnant. No, it was just stress. You’d been so stressed lately. Periods were often late when stress was abundant. Yeah, just stress.
Emily squeezed your hand. Her calm presence grounding you. “If it’s positive, you’ll figure it out like you always do. You’re not alone in this, okay? You have me. You have Paul. And you have the while pack. Whatever happens, we’ll all be here for you.” Her voice was low and soothing as it always was. Her reassurance should have been comforting, but your thoughts were spiraling. The only thing you could focus on was the quiet truth settling into the back of your mind. You might really be pregnant. She stood with you still trying to process what was likely true.
Emily slipped out the door after giving you a reassuring smile. Her keys jingling as she walked to the front door. “I’ll be back in twenty minutes,” she’d said. “And don’t even think about panicking while I’m gone. Just breathe. I’m going to go buy one from the pharmacy. It won’t be a big deal if someone sees me buying one.” Easier said than done.
You sat stiffly on the edge of the couch with your knee bouncing restlessly as the minutes ticked by. Emily was right. If anyone saw her buying a pregnancy test, they wouldn’t think twice about it. She and Sam were married, in their twenties, and settled. But you? At nineteen, unmarried, and still figuring out your life, the very idea of people finding out sent a wave of nausea through you.
When Emily returned, she came through the door with the same calm efficiency as before. She held a small paper bag like it contained something perfectly ordinary. She set it down on the table while brushing the rain from her hair as she gave you a steady look. “Alright,” she said. Her tone light but firm. “No one saw me. Not that it would’ve mattered. But I figured you’d want to hear that.”
You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Thank God. I’d die right here if word got back to my mom. Or the whole reservation.” You peeked through your fingers, your voice dropping to a mutter. “This place is like a fishbowl.”
Emily laughed softly and slid the bag toward you. “Relax. It’s done. Now, the next part is up to you.”
You stared at the bag. Your palms suddenly very disgustingly sweaty. Your heart hammered as you reached out and pulled the slim box from inside, the pink lettering glaring up at you like a warning. “I feel like I’m in one of those cheesy after-school specials,” you mumbled, your voice shaky as you tried to make light of the situation.
Emily gave your shoulder a comforting squeeze. “You’re not. You’re just figuring out what’s next. Go on. I’ll wait here.” With a long breath you stood and made your way to the bathroom, the box clutched tightly in your hands. The next few minutes felt like an eternity. You sat on the edge of the bathtub staring at the little plastic stick on the counter, its blank screen taunting you.
When your phone buzzed with the timer you’d set, your stomach flipped. You stood slowly, your hands trembling as you picked up the test. Two pink lines.
Positive.
Your knees felt weak as you gripped the counter for support as a tidal wave of emotions crashed over you. A strange mix of fear, joy, and uncertainty swirled in your chest, leaving you utterly breathless. You stared at the test for a long moment trying to process what it meant. Your hand drifted to your abdomen as you gulped.
When you finally emerged from the bathroom, Emily was waiting on the couch. Her face was soft as ever with understanding. She looked up as you stepped into the room, the test still clutched in your hand. “Well?” she asked gently. Her brown eyes searching your face for any sign of what it said.
You held up the test. Your mouth dry. “I guess I’m pregnant,” you said with your voice unsteady. Then in a weak attempt to lighten the mood you added with a shaky laugh, “Stealing Bella’s thunder, huh?” Bella’s pregnancy had been the talk of the pack ever since the group found out what she was carrying. Then the vampire human baby decided to make its appearance after only 28 days. The thought sent a shiver down your spine as you thought of what carrying a werewolf baby would entail.
Emily blinked, then burst into laughter. Her head tilting back as she shook her head. “Oh, you’ve got to stop hanging out with Paul so much. You’re picking up his sense of humor.” She grinned as she gave your arm a reassuring squeeze.
Despite your spinning thoughts her laughter pulled a smile from you. She wrapped you in a warm, steady hug. “It’s going to be okay,” she murmured, her voice firm. “Paul loves you so much. More than I ever thought he’d be capable of. You’re not doing this alone.” You clung to her words like a lifeline as tears brimmed in your eyes. You weren’t sad… no, not at all. You were simply overwhelmed as this had not been in your plans. You were going to get married to Paul in a few years and maybe have some kid’s years after that. Not now. But life had a funny way of throwing you completely off. First, being imprinted to a damned werewolf. Now this.
You sat at the kitchen table with the pregnancy test still in your hand. Emily had made you a cup of tea. The warm mug sitting untouched in front of you as your thoughts spiraled. You’d stared at the little pink lines so long now that they were practically burned into your vision. A constant reminder of the new, terrifying reality that had just taken shape.
Emily leaned against the counter, watching you with a mixture of patience and quiet concern. “What’s going on in that head of yours?” she asked gently.
You let out a shaky breath, placing the test down on the table so gently as if it might explode. “Everything,” you said. Your voice barely above a whisper. “I mean… Paul and I are nineteen. This wasn’t exactly in the plan. What if he’s not ready for this? What if he feels… trapped?” The thought made your stomach churn. You couldn’t shake the image of his face falling when you told him.
Emily frowned, stepping closer and taking the chair across from you. “Yes, you both are young, but you know he’s devoted to you. He’d run through fire for you without thinking twice. That’s the bond. It’s unshakable.”
You nodded slowly, but her reassurance only soothed one layer of your anxiety. “But what about my parents?” you asked. Your voice cracking yet again. “If they find out, they’ll never let me hear the end of it. They’ll say I’m ruining my life. That we’re not ready. And Paul’s parents… What if they think I’m irresponsible or… God forbid, trying to trap him or something?”
Emily shook her head firmly. “No one who knows you would think that. You and Paul have been through so much already and you’ve come out stronger every time. His parents will see that. His parents love you. And as for your parents…” She gave you a small, wry smile. “They’ll probably be shocked at first. Maybe even upset. But they’ll come around. They always do.”
You laughed bitterly, rubbing your temples. “It’s not just them. It’s the pack, too. What are they going to think? There’s so much going on right now. Jacob imprinting on a half-vampire baby, the Cullen drama, all of it. This is the worst time for this to happen. What if they see it as a distraction? What if they resent me for pulling Paul’s attention away?”
Emily reached out grabbing for your hand. “First of all, no one in that pack would resent you. You know how they are. They’re family, even if they don’t always show it the right way. And second, you’re not pulling Paul’s attention away. If anything, this will give him more to fight for. Plus, I think they all like you more than Paul anyway.” She added with a mischievous grin.
Your chest tightened at her words. A mix of hope and fear swirling inside you. “But what if I’m not enough?” you whispered. “What if I can’t handle this? What if I ruin everything?”
Emily’s grip on your hand tightened. Her scarred fingers warm and steady. “You’re more than enough,” she said firmly. “You’re strong and you have so many people who love and adore you. You’re not doing this alone. Paul’s going to be over the moon, you’ll see. And the pack? They’ll probably throw a barbecue to celebrate.”
Despite the storm of emotions swirling in your chest that last comment drew a weak laugh from you. “Yeah, and Embry will probably make a joke about Paul being the first one to ‘start a litter,’” you muttered.
Emily grinned. “Probably. But you’ve got to admit, they’d all step up to make sure you and that baby are safe. It’s what they do.”
You took a shaky sip of tea. The warmth grounding you for a moment. Deep down you knew Emily was right. But the thought of telling Paul, and everyone else, still felt like standing on the edge of a cliff. “Guess I’ll find out soon enough,” you murmured while staring down at your tea. “I just hope you’re right.”
Emily smiled softly, giving your hand one last squeeze. “I’m always right,” she teased. Her voice light. “Now, let’s figure out how you’re going to tell Paul. You’ve got this.”
Just as you were going to ask her how in the hell you’d drop this bomb on him the front door opened loudly, followed by the familiar sound of Paul’s laugh, low and warm, rolling through the house. “We’re back!” Quil called out, clearly in a good mood. Jared muttered something about food and within seconds all three of them were in the kitchen rummaging around for snacks.
You sat frozen at the kitchen table gripping your mug of now-cold tea. Your eyes were glued to the wall like it might have answers to the mess of thoughts tangling in your head. Emily shot you a look that practically screamed, you better handle this soon, before helping the hungry wolves to whatever snack she deemed acceptable.
“Hey,” Paul’s voice broke through the fog. You looked up just as he walked over to you. His usual easy grin faltering slightly as he studied your face. He crouched in front of you, his warm hands resting on your knees. “You okay? You’ve got that look.”
“What look?” you asked. Your voice faltering slightly as you tried to sound normal.
“The one that says you’re either about to cry or punch someone.” He tilted his head. His grin returning. “Hopefully not me.”
You forced a laugh but it came out weak and shaky. “I’m fine. Just tired. You know, the usual.”
Paul narrowed his eyes, clearly unconvinced. His sharp instincts both as a wolf and your imprint meant there was no hiding anything from him for long. “Uh-huh. Sure babe. You’re totally not being weird. Not at all.” He teased lightly.
“I am not!” you shot back too quickly. His brows shot up.
“Okay…” He dragged the word out, standing and looking toward the kitchen where Quil and Jared were now arguing over a loaf of bread. Paul glanced back at you. His concern deepening. “Wanna take a walk? Fresh air might feel good.”
You hesitated. Your pulse roaring in your ears. You couldn’t do this here. Not with Jared and Quil’s supernatural hearing and Emily’s knowing looks. “Yeah,” you muttered finally, standing abruptly. “Let’s go.”
Paul smiled softly and walked behind you as you made your way out of the house. He grabbed his jacket and followed you out the door. The crisp air hit your skin, grounding you slightly as you led him down the gravel path toward the edge of the forest. Paul stayed quiet. His hands stuffed in his pockets as he matched your pace. He didn’t push but you could feel his eyes on you. His quiet presence making your nerves churn even more.
When you finally stopped, he turned to face you. His expression soft but cautious. “Alright then,” he said, leaning back against a tree. His arms crossing over his chest. “What’s going on? You’ve been acting… off since we got back. And don’t tell me it’s nothing because I know you better than that love.”
You fidgeted. Your fingers twisting the hem of your sweater as you avoided his gaze. Your stomach was in knots and the words felt stuck in your throat. “Paul, I… I need to tell you something,” you started. Your voice barely above a whisper.
“Okay,” he said, his tone steady but laced with worry. “Whatever it is, just say it.”
You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. Instead, you made a strange almost choking sound which made his eyes widen. “Are you okay? It’s okay. Whatever it is, it’s okay.” he said while stepping closer.
“I’m fine!” you said too quickly yet again. Your voice pitching higher than you wanted. “It’s just… this is… ugh!” You threw your hands up while pacing a few steps before spinning back to face him. “You’re going to freak out.”
Paul blinked slowly. His brows knitting together as a hint of a smile tugged at his lips. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this worked up before babe. What’s going on?” You just had to tell him. Just do it.
You stopped pacing. Your chest tightening as you blurted out, “I’m pregnant.”
The silence that followed was deafening. Paul’s face went blank, his arms dropping to his sides as he stared at you. You felt the blood drain from your face. The panic rising as his lack of reaction stretched on. “Paul?” you whispered. Your voice trembling. “Say something. Please, say something.”
He blinked, his lips parting slightly. “You’re serious?” he asked in a silky soft voice like he was trying to make sure he’d heard you right.
You nodded. Your throat tight. “Yeah. I just found out today. I’m sorry. I didn’t want it to be like this. I wasn’t even sure how I should tell you, because I know we’re young, and everything’s crazy right now, and…”
“Shh,” he said cutting you off gently. He stepped forward completely closing the distance between you. His hands finding your arms as he looked down at you. Those chocolate brown eyes searching yours. “You’re pregnant? We’re… having a baby? Our baby?”
Your heart pounded as you nodded again with tears welling up in your eyes. “Yeah.”
A slow grin spread across his face. It started small but grew until it lit up his whole expression. He laughed softly almost in disbelief and suddenly pulled you into his arms. He held you so tightly you could barely breathe. “You’re serious?” he asked again. His voice muffled against your hair. “We’re having a baby?”
You let out a watery laugh. Your hands clutching at his jacket. “Yeah. We’re having a baby.” You said softly.
Paul pulled back just enough to look at you. His eyes shining with something you couldn’t quite name. “You’re amazing,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I mean it. I can’t even…” He broke off, shaking his head like he couldn’t find the words. “This is crazy, but it’s… it’s amazing. I’m so happy right now,” He grinned before pulling you in for a kiss, “We’re having a baby!”
Tears spilled down your cheeks as a laugh bubbled out of you. “You’re not scared? Or mad?”
“Of course, I’m scared,” he admitted. His hands moving to cradle your face. “But I’m not mad. Never. You’re my world, and now… now we’re building something together. How could I be anything but happy about that?”
You sniffled, leaning into his touch. “Well, I’m glad one of us is confident. Because I was ready to fake my death and disappear into the woods.”
Paul laughed before kissing your forehead softly. “Not a chance. You’re stuck with me, babe. And this kid? They’re going to have the best damn parents in the world.” His hand ran over your abdomen gently.
A small, tentative smile tugged at your lips as you rested your forehead against his neck. “I hope you’re ready to break the news to the pack, though. I can already hear Embry’s jokes.”
Paul’s grin only widened. A glimmer of excitement sparking in his eyes. “We’ve got to tell them.”
Your stomach dropped, and you blinked at him. “Right now?”
“Yes, right now,” he said. His voice filled with conviction. “Why wouldn’t we? This is huge! It’s amazing! They’re going to be so happy for us.”
“Paul,” you said slowly while trying to reel him back in. “We just found out. Don’t you think we should… I don’t know, let it sink in first? Maybe figure out how we’re going to explain this before we say anything?”
But Paul shook his head. His hands framing your face with a tenderness that made your chest ache. “There’s nothing to explain, babe. This is good news. They’re family. They’ll support us no matter what. And if anyone has anything negative to say…” His voice dropped slightly. A spark of protectiveness flaring in his tone. “They’ll have to deal with me. But they’re going to be so excited love. So damn excited.”
You hesitated. Your doubts lingering. “It’s not that simple, Paul. What if they think it’s irresponsible? Or too soon?”
He took your hands, his gaze steady and unwavering. “Look, I know things are messy right now. The timing might not be perfect. But then again, when is it ever? What matters is that this is ours. You, me, and this baby. We’re going to be okay because we have each other.” His voice softened and the corners of his lips tugged into a smile. “I want to celebrate that with the people who care the most about us.”
His sincerity broke through your defenses, and you sighed, nodding reluctantly. “You’re sure?”
“I’ve never been so sure of anything,” he said. His smile warm and full of pride. “You’re carrying our baby. How could I not want to shout it from the rooftops?”
A small laugh slipped out despite yourself. You shook your head at his antics. “Fine. But if this goes sideways, you’re the one dealing with the fallout.”
Paul chuckled, pulling you close and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Deal. Now, let’s go tell them.”
As he led you back toward the house, his excitement practically radiating off him, you still felt a twinge of nerves. But the way he held your hand, so steady and unshakable, made you believe that somehow everything would work out.
The moment you and Paul stepped back into the house. Emily’s eyes flicked to the two of you. Her lips curled into the smallest, most knowing smile. Her gaze lingered on Paul who was still vibrating with energy like he could barely contain himself. She exhaled softly, relief washing over her face.
“He knows, doesn’t he?” she asked you, her voice low enough that only you and Paul could hear.
“Of course, I know,” Paul cut in with his grin so wide it was practically smug. “You really think she could keep something like this from me?” His arm wrapped protectively around your waist. His hand warm against your side as he glanced down at you. “She tried, though. Gotta give her credit.”
Emily’s smile grew. She stepped closer to squeeze your hand. “I’m glad you told him,” she said simply. Her calm steadiness grounded you in a way nothing else could.
Jared and Quil, however, were still oblivious. Quil frowned at Paul. His sandwich frozen halfway to his mouth. “What’s up with you? You look like you just hit the jackpot.”
“Yeah,” Jared added, leaning back against the counter. “You’ve got that weird, smug thing going on. Like you know something we don’t.”
Paul smirked, his fingers flexing slightly on your waist. “Maybe I do.”
Quil rolled his eyes. “You gonna share with the class, or…?”
Paul leaned against the back of the couch looking entirely too pleased with himself. “Let’s wait until everyone’s here,” he said, glancing toward the door. “Don’t wanna repeat myself.”
Jared groaned. “Dude, seriously? You’re such a…”
“Later,” Paul interrupted. His grin growing wider. Jared muttered something under his breath, but Paul didn’t seem to care. His attention stayed on you. His thumb brushing absently along your hip.
By the time Sam and the rest of the pack arrived the room was buzzing with conversation. The pack had settled in, tired but loud as usual, filling the space with their usual chaos. You could feel your nerves creeping back but Paul’s steady presence beside you kept them at bay.
Once the noise quieted enough for him to speak, Paul cleared his throat. All eyes turned toward him. The sudden intensity of his expression silencing even Quil’s usual chatter.
Emily, sipping her tea, shot Paul a look. Silently daring him to be subtle. But Paul being Paul had no plans for subtlety. He straightened while crossing his arms over his chest as he cleared his throat. “Me and Y/N… we’re not just us anymore. We’re adding one.”
The room went silent. All eyes turning toward him. Jared frowned. “What does that even mean?”
Quil looked at you both, confused. “Wait. Did you get a dog? Please tell me it’s a dog.”
Paul smirked, clearly reveling in the suspense. “Nope. Not a dog.”
Embry tilted his head, his brows furrowed. “A cat? Fish? What?”
Paul chuckled, dragging it out just a little longer. “Think bigger.”
Quil’s eyes narrowed and then he gasped. His mouth dropping open. “Oh my God! You’re moving?! Are you leaving the rez?”
Paul groaned before dragging a hand down his face. “No! Not moving, not a pet, not a damn secret stash of food.” He glanced at you. His grin softening slightly and nodded like it was your moment to take over.
And you couldn’t help it. With all their clueless guesses and Paul’s smug antics a laugh bubbled out of you, warm and uncontrollable. Everyone froze, watching you with the most curious eyes and through your laughter, you managed to blurt, “We’re having a baby!”
The room went completely still for a beat, Jared’s apple frozen mid-air as his jaw dropped. Quil looked between you and Paul. His face blank before he finally sputtered, “Wait… like an actual baby?” Even Sam looked a little shell shocked at that news.
“Yes, Quil,” Paul said dryly though his grin betrayed his pride. “An actual baby. Our baby.”
Jared blinked rapidly then burst out laughing, slapping the counter. “Holy shit. You’re serious? Paul Lahote’s gonna be a dad?”
Quil let out a strangled laugh while running a hand through his hair. “Wow. This poor kid’s gonna have your temper, huh? Better hope they get your patience.” He looked at you with a knowing grin.
Sam, who had entered the room halfway through the chaos, finally stepped forward. His expression calm but full of warmth. “That’s great news,” he said simply while clapping Paul on the shoulder before looking at you. “You’re both going to be amazing parents.”
The pack didn’t hold back after that. Quil and Jared immediately started throwing out ridiculous suggestions for baby names while Embry vowed to make the baby a tiny wolf plushie as a first gift. The teasing was relentless, but it was full of love. It was clear that they were genuinely happy for you both. Your earlier nerves vanishing in an instant at their exuberance.
Hours later when the house had quieted and everyone had left, you and Paul found yourselves alone in the dimly lit living room. You curled up against his side. Your head resting on his chest as his arm draped securely around you.
“You know,” you murmured, smiling faintly, “your announcement was terrible.”
Paul laughed. The sound rumbling through his chest. “Terrible? That was brilliant.”
“You had everyone thinking we got a dog,” you teased, tilting your head to look up at him. “I think Quil’s still processing.”
Paul smirked, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Hey, I had to keep them guessing. Besides, you’re the one who cracked under pressure.”
You rolled your eyes but the warmth in his gaze softened your retort. His hand moved to your stomach, resting there gently as he whispered, “We’re really doing this, huh?”
“Yeah,” you said softly. Your voice steady. “We are.”
He pressed a kiss to your temple. His voice low and full of quiet conviction. “It’s gonna be perfect. You, me, and our little one. We’ve got this.”
Paul’s lips brushed against yours, slow and deliberate, grounding you for a fleeting moment. His hand, warm and steady on your stomach, reminded you of the little life you’d just announced to the pack. But the moment his forehead rested against yours the weight of what was coming next crept back in.
Your parents. His parents.
You pulled back slightly, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as your heart pounded. “Paul,” you murmured, your voice trembling. “How are we going to tell them? My mom is going to flip, and not in a good way. And your mom…”
“Hey,” Paul interrupted softly, his thumb brushing along your jaw. “Look at me.”
You hesitated but the steady warmth in his eyes drew you in. His grin was softer now, tempered with something deeper. “We’ll tell them the same way we told the pack, together. And if your mom flips, I’ll handle it. I’ll handle all of it. You don’t have to worry about a thing.”
“I don’t know if you’ve met my mom,” you whispered. Your voice wavering as you tried to find humor in the situation. “She’s going to think this is reckless. She’ll probably yell. A lot.”
Paul’s grin widened, and he tipped your chin up with his knuckle before pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Then let her yell. I’ll stand there and take it because, at the end of the day, none of that matters. What matters is us and this baby.”
You swallowed hard trying to keep your emotions from bubbling over. “But what if it’s too much? What if they think we’re too young, or not ready, or…”
Paul’s grip on you tightened slightly. His voice cutting through your spiral. “Then I’ll marry you tomorrow,” he said. His tone firm but laced with tenderness. “If that’s what it takes to make them see how serious I am, I’ll do it. Hell, I’ll do it tonight if you want.”
Your breath caught as you stared at him, wide-eyed. “You’re not serious.”
“I’m completely serious,” he said, his gaze unwavering. “I love you. I love this baby. And I don’t care what anyone else thinks. You’re my family now. You’ve always been my family and nothing, not your mom, not mine, not anyone, is going to change that.”
The conviction in his voice broke something loose in your chest. The fear and doubt unraveling as his words sank in. You let out a shaky laugh with tears pricking at your eyes. “You can’t just solve everything by offering to marry me, you know.”
Paul smirked, brushing a tear from your cheek with his thumb. “Maybe not, but it’s a pretty damn good start, isn’t it?”
You laughed again, softer this time, and leaned into him, letting his steady warmth anchor you. “We’ll figure it out,” you murmured more to yourself than him.
“We already are,” he said, his voice low and sure. “One step at a time. And I’m not going anywhere, no matter what. You know that love.”
As his arms tightened around you, you felt it, the certainty he carried, the unwavering belief that you could face anything together. It didn’t erase all your fears, but it made them feel a little smaller, a little more manageable.
And for now, and forever that would be enough.
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empresskylo · 8 months ago
Text
ok but imagine packing ghost a lunch.. and you package it in a cute little pink box because ghost was indifferent when you were buying new tupperware, so ofc you went with the cute ones. and he doesn’t even bat an eye as he opens his meal up, the men not daring to comment. and he eats it happily, smiling at the little note you wrote to him, and the sugar cookies you baked, leaving him extra to give to some of the guys. 😪🥹
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zapreportsblog · 2 years ago
Note
I did a happy dance when I was finish reading this. I just imagine Jasper and the reader celebrating Halloween one year dress up as Woody and Jessie from Toy Story.
Twilight
Can you do a Jasper x mom reader - bear shapeshifter?
where the reader's son is Jasper's mate. She is a single mom reader and has no other family except for her son. She and her son are bear shapeshifters. She finds out they are vampires and about the pack. She meets the major, where she basically threatens to kick his butt, if he ever hurts her only child. She is bigger than Sam when he is in wolf form. They do not find out about her or her son - he the only one who can calm her down, being bear shapeshifters until the training to defeat Victoria and her army of newborns, because Paul says something rude to the reader's son. He goes to attack the reader's son, but Mama Bear comes to the rescue. Garrett is her mate.
Wow just wow
❝getting through mama bear❞
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✭ pairing : garrett x reader x jasper hale x oc
✭ fandom : twilight x reader
✭ summary : (y/n) is the mate of Garrett and she also happens to be a bear shapeshifter and a single mother, coming to forks she hasn’t expected her son to be the mate of a vampire much less herself to imprint on one too
✭ authors note : you didn’t specify what age the son was so I’ll make it where he’s young like how Bella and Edwards daughter was when Jacob imprinted that way the son and jasper can grow together
✭ twilight masterlist
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The rain drizzled lightly as (y/n) drove her car through the winding roads of Forks, her ten-year-old son sitting in the back seat, his gaze fixed out of the window. It was a new chapter in their lives, a fresh start in a place that held the promise of something different.
"Mom, are we almost there?" her son asked, his voice tinged with excitement.
"We're getting close, sweetheart," she replied, offering him a warm smile through the rearview mirror. "Just a little while longer."
As they entered the small town, (y/n) couldn't help but feel a mixture of anticipation and nervousness. She had chosen Forks as their new home for its quiet charm and serene atmosphere, hoping that it would provide the peaceful environment they both needed.
After finding their way to their new home—a cozy house surrounded by trees—mother and son stepped out of the car. The air was crisp and carried the scent of pine, a refreshing change from the bustling city they had left behind.
"(Son's name), what do you think?" (y/n) asked, watching her son take in their surroundings.
He looked around with wide eyes, a hint of wonder in his gaze. "It's nice, Mom. I like it."
She smiled and ruffled his hair affectionately. "I'm glad to hear that."
Over the next few days, (y/n) and her son settled into their new routine. She found a job in a local bookstore, which allowed her to spend more time with her son while providing for their needs. The townspeople were friendly, and (y/n) couldn't help but feel a sense of belonging as they exchanged greetings.
One afternoon, as they explored the lush forest near their home, (y/n)'s son looked up at her with a grin. "Mom, can we show our true forms to the animals here?"
She chuckled softly. "Of course, sweetheart. But let's be careful and make sure we're in a safe area."
With a nod, they ventured deeper into the woods until they found a secluded clearing. Taking a deep breath, (y/n) closed her eyes and allowed her transformation to take over. In a matter of moments, her body shifted and grew, and she became a majestic bear.
Her son's transformation followed suit, and soon they stood side by side in their bear forms. (Son's name) let out a playful roar, and (y/n) couldn't help but join in, the sound of their roars echoing through the forest.
As they transformed back into their human forms, they shared a joyful laugh, the experience deepening their bond even further.
Later that evening, as they sat on the porch of their new home, (y/n) turned to her son. "How are you adjusting to Forks, sweetheart?"
He leaned against her shoulder, a content smile on his face. "I like it here, Mom. It's peaceful, and I like that we can be ourselves without worrying about hiding who we are."
Touched by his words, (y/n) wrapped an arm around him, pulling him close. "I'm glad we found a place where we can be ourselves, (son's name). And you know, we're a team, no matter what comes our way."
He nodded, his gaze filled with trust and love. "I know, Mom. We'll always be a team."
As the sun set over their new home in Forks, (y/n) felt a sense of gratitude wash over her. She may have been a single mom with only her son by her side, but their love and the bond they shared was more powerful than anything. And in this tranquil town, surrounded by nature and the promise of a fresh start, they were ready to face whatever challenges and adventures awaited them.
One day, as (y/n) went about her routine, she heard whispers and rumors around town about the Cullens—peculiar, pale-skinned individuals who seemed to keep to themselves. Curiosity gnawed at her, and her instincts as a bear shapeshifter urged her to investigate further.
Late one evening, (y/n) decided to venture into the forest to see if she could uncover anything about these mysterious newcomers. The moon cast a soft glow over the trees as she made her way deeper into the woods, her senses heightened.
As she walked, her intuition tingled, and she noticed the distinct scent of another creature. Her heart pounded as she cautiously followed the scent, only to come face-to-face with a massive, wolf-like figure. It was Jacob Black, in his wolf form.
Startled by the sight, (y/n) instinctively shifted into her bear form, towering over the wolf. Jacob's ears perked up, and he turned to face her, surprised to encounter a bear in the woods.
Despite her size, (y/n) didn't show aggression. She took a step back, making sure her body language conveyed that she meant no harm. Jacob, sensing her non-threatening demeanor, hesitated, his stance relaxing slightly.
For a moment, they simply regarded each other, a silent understanding passing between the two shapeshifters. Then, with a low growl that seemed to communicate curiosity rather than hostility, Jacob backed away and disappeared into the shadows of the forest.
Shaken by the encounter, (y/n) returned home in her human form, her mind racing with questions. She couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to the story than met the eye. That night, she researched the legends and lore surrounding the Quileute tribe and the history of shapeshifters in the area.
As her research deepened, (y/n) stumbled upon references to the Cullens, vampires who lived among the humans while hiding their true nature. The pieces began to fall into place, connecting the dots between the Cullens, the wolf pack, and her own identity as a bear shapeshifter.
Over the next few days, (y/n) pondered her newfound knowledge. She was torn between the urge to approach the Cullens and the wolf pack to learn more and the caution that held her back. She knew that revealing her true nature to them could have consequences, both positive and negative.
The sun cast a warm glow over the forest as (y/n) and her son reveled in the freedom of their bear forms. They playfully tumbled and rolled through the undergrowth, their laughter mixing with the rustling leaves.
As they frolicked, (y/n) suddenly sensed something amiss. Her instincts kicked in, and she felt a ripple of danger in the air. She swiftly turned her head and froze. There, standing not far from her son, was a figure that sent a chill down her spine—Jasper Hale.
Before her son could even react, (y/n) lunged forward, placing herself between him and Jasper. Her growl resonated through the forest, and her fur bristled with an intensity that warned Jasper to stay back.
Jasper's eyes widened, a mixture of surprise and concern flickering in his gaze. But then, as if a switch had been flipped, his expression shifted, and his face twisted into a malicious grin. The transformation was instant, and the air around him seemed to vibrate with an ominous energy.
As Jasper's aura shifted, (y/n) felt a surge of power radiate from him. She hadn't expected this, and her instincts told her that she needed to defend her son at all costs. With a roar that echoed through the forest, she lunged at Jasper, her claws extended, ready to strike.
Their clash was fierce, and the ground trembled beneath them as they grappled. (y/n) fought with a ferocity born out of the need to protect her child. She was determined to shield him from any harm, even if it meant facing down an opponent as formidable as Jasper.
Amidst the struggle, a primal rage seemed to emanate from Jasper, and his eyes flickered with a wild intensity. But as (y/n) pressed her advantage, her words cut through his aggression. She spoke with a conviction that brooked no argument, threatening dire consequences if he dared to harm her son.
The message seemed to penetrate Jasper's altered state, and his defenses wavered. He retreated, his stance shifting as he regained control. The forest fell silent as the tension dissipated, and (y/n) stood between her son and Jasper, her breath heaving, ready to spring into action again if needed.
Unbeknownst to (y/n), Jasper had been grappling with his own internal conflict. His connection with her son had stirred something deep within him—a bond he couldn't quite comprehend. As the fog of his altered state lifted, he was left with a sense of confusion and a yearning for more.
Yet, in that moment, as the forest seemed to hold its breath, Jasper's focus remained on (y/n). Their gazes locked, and in the depths of her eyes, he saw the fierce determination of a mother protecting her child. It was a force to be reckoned with, and he realized that his usual methods of manipulation held no sway over her.
As (y/n) stood her ground, unknowingly guarding a bond that transcended her understanding, Jasper's curiosity about her and her son deepened. The encounter had left an indelible mark, one that would shape the course of their lives in ways neither of them could have foreseen.
The days had passed in relative calm since the encounter in the forest. (y/n) and her son went about their lives, embracing the serenity of the woods and the routines they had established. But as the sun dipped below the horizon one evening, the tranquility was shattered by an unexpected visit.
The sound of approaching footsteps caught (y/n)'s attention, and her senses tingled with unease. When Jasper and Alice emerged from the trees, her eyes narrowed, her initial reaction one of anger and mistrust. She stood protectively in front of her son, his presence a reminder of the danger that vampires could pose.
Jasper's eyes met hers, his expression sincere and apologetic. He stepped forward cautiously, holding his hands up in a non-threatening gesture. "Please, “ he began, his voice carrying a note of remorse. "I need to talk to you."
Still wary, (y/n) reluctantly allowed Jasper to approach. Her son stood by her side, his gaze darting between the newcomers and his mother. Jasper took a deep breath, the air around him heavy with tension.
"I want to apologize," Jasper said, his voice quiet but earnest. "For what happened the last time we crossed paths. It was unforgivable, and I'm truly sorry for any fear or harm I caused."
The sincerity in his voice was palpable, and (y/n) found herself listening. She glanced at her son, who offered a subtle nod of agreement. While the memory of the encounter still lingered, she was willing to hear Jasper out.
Alice, who had been watching the exchange, chimed in. "We're here seeking help," she explained, her eyes imploring. "There's a dangerous vampire named Victoria who's building a newborn army. We're trying to stop her before she puts more lives in danger."
As Jasper and Alice detailed the situation, (y/n)'s skepticism began to wane. It seemed that the Cullens were genuinely concerned about the threat Victoria posed and were seeking allies to face her. Her son's gaze held a mixture of curiosity and concern, and (y/n) could sense his apprehension.
"What do you need from me?" (y/n) finally asked, her voice steady despite the wariness she felt.
Jasper exchanged a glance with Alice before responding. "We're gathering as many allies as we can to face Victoria and her army. With your strength and abilities, you could make a difference. We need all the help we can get."
The gravity of the situation was evident in their expressions, and (y/n) nodded in understanding. She glanced down at her son, her heart heavy with the weight of the decision she was about to make. They couldn't ignore the danger that Victoria posed, and if they had the power to help, it was their responsibility to do so.
" I’ll help," (y/n) said firmly, meeting Jasper's gaze head-on. "But know this—my priority is our safety and the safety of the innocent. We won't be used as pawns in a dangerous game."
Jasper's lips quirked into a half-smile, his appreciation evident. "We wouldn't have it any other way."
The clearing in the forest was transformed into a makeshift training ground, where the Cullens, the members of Sam Uley's pack, (y/n) and her son, and even Carlisle's old friend Garrett had gathered to prepare for the impending battle against Victoria and her army of newborns.
Tension hung in the air as everyone focused on their individual tasks, honing their skills and strategies. Carlisle was overseeing the training, offering guidance and advice to the assembled group. The sun cast dappled patterns through the leaves, creating a serene backdrop that contrasted with the gravity of the situation.
Among the participants, (y/n)'s presence was both resolute and commanding. Her son, standing beside her, mirrored her determination. They had trained tirelessly, working together to harness their abilities and contribute to the collective effort.
As the training continued, (y/n) couldn't help but notice the curious glances directed their way, particularly from Paul, a member of the Quileute wolf pack. It didn't take long for his skepticism to manifest in a derogatory comment, belittling the role of (y/n)'s son in the battle.
"What's a child doing here? He'll only hold us back," Paul sneered, his tone dripping with disdain.
The comment landed like a thud in the clearing, drawing a collective hush from those around them. (y/n)'s expression tightened, her protective instincts flaring. She turned to face Paul, her gaze steely.
"Last time I checked, we're all here because we believe in this fight," (y/n) retorted, her voice sharp and unwavering. "And if you doubt my son's abilities, then you clearly haven't seen what he's capable of."
Paul's lips curled into a sneer, his hostility evident. Without warning, he lunged at (y/n)'s son, his intention clear—to test the child's abilities and prove his point. But before he could reach the young shapeshifter, (y/n) moved with the speed and grace of a predator.
In a heartbeat, she intercepted Paul's advance, her movements fluid and precise. Her stance radiated power, and her eyes bore into his with an intensity that sent a shiver down his spine. He found himself immobilized by her commanding presence, her protective instincts vividly on display.
"You will never lay a hand on my son," (y/n) declared, her voice commanding and unyielding. "We're all in this together, and that includes protecting each other. If you can't respect that, then maybe you're the one who doesn't belong here."
The weight of (y/n)'s words settled over the clearing, casting a palpable tension in the air. Paul's expression shifted from aggression to a begrudging acknowledgment. He stepped back, his defiance faltering in the face of her unwavering determination.
“Now that’s impressive,” Garrett comments. “You got the mutt to silence itself.”
(Y/n) head snaps in his direction and that’s when she felt it, her world shifting with a clench of her jaws and fist she shook her head to get rid of any unwanted thoughts before moving back to her sons side.
God how could she imprint on a vampire?!
As the moments passed, the tension gradually eased, replaced by the collective understanding that they were all bound by a common purpose. (y/n)'s resolute stance sent a clear message—unity was essential for their survival, and each member of the alliance had a role to play.
The training resumed, the forest echoing with the sounds of clashing forces and the collective determination to overcome the impending threat. And in the midst of it all, (y/n) and her son stood strong, united by a fierce determination to protect each other and ensure that their world remained free from the shadows that sought to engulf it.
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pfpanimes · 1 year ago
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⌕ kimetsu no yaiba: hashira geiko-hen • EP 03.
like or reblog if you save/use.
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agreeewrites · 8 months ago
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i’m obsessed with your paul fic!! i loved the subtle lines from the song weaved into the story, you’re a wonderful writer 💓 part 2?? :)
alright, twist my arm 😂
pairing: Paul Lahote x human!reader
cw: MDNI 18+ smut, biting, trauma dumping, semi-public sex/ voyeurism (the werewolves can hear you)
Part One
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Paul spun the two of you around, pressing you up against the wall as he claimed your mouth again. Every pass of his lips, every swipe of his tongue, it felt like he was putting you back together again.
He kissed along your jaw, nudging your head up with his nose to start spoiling your neck. You dug your nails into his shoulders, clinging to him, and he made a low growling sound in his throat.
He turned his head suddenly and you felt his blunt teeth sink into your skin. Bright pain lanced up your shoulder. You yelped, but his tongue glided over the aching spot, soothing the bite mark he'd just made.
Heat pooled between your legs. He just bit you, and you fucking loved it.
He chuckled against the skin of your neck, an warm, melodic sound. “Liked that, hm?” He mumbled, trailing soft pecks back up to your lips.
You nodded, showing him just how much with a filthy kiss. He smiled against you before wrestling your tongue into submission.
You were light-headed from all the sensations. Pain, joy, fear, bone-melting desire, him.
Footsteps plodded up your front porch. “Hey, y/n, need any help with—oh shit. What happened to your door?”
Paul turned his head to glare at the intruder, but didn't make any move to lower you to the ground.
“I, uh—” Jacob stuttered, standing like a deer in headlights in the smashed doorway.
You kicked your feet, hoping Paul would get the message to put you down, but he only tightened his grip on your thighs.
The men stared at each other, and it took you a second to realize they were having an internal conversation.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
“Really, you going to fuck her right in front of me?”
“I'd kill you right in front of her if she asked me to. Fuck off.”
“You can't just treat her like crap for six months and then decide you want her when she finally gets sick of your shit—”
A growl ripped from Paul’s chest. He could feel the shift coming, his wolf pressing beneath his skin with urgency. You squirmed in his arms, his grip too tight, and he set you on your feet.
The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you, and make you trust him even less.
“Paul.” You placed a hand on his shoulder, your skin blissfully cool against his, and to his shock, his wolf backed off a bit.
“Damn, she's got you trained already?” Jacob was taunting him now, being petty out of pathetic jealousy.
“I won't tell you again. Get out,” Paul snarled in his head.
“Y/n, seriously if you need help—”
“I think you should go, Jake,” y/n said, crossing your arms over your chest. Seeing Jacob’s arrogant smirk crumble was like Christmas fucking morning. “I won't be needing your help anymore.”
Delight curled along Paul’s spine, heightened further by the darkening bite mark he left at the curve of your shoulder, clear as day for Jacob, and the pack, to see.
You were his. And it was about time he started screaming it from the rooftops.
“Bye, Jake.” Paul grinned, walking across the room to show him the door. That he broke. Shit, I gotta fix that.
Jacob flipped him off and trudged down the stairs, climbing onto his little motorcycle and driving off. He'd be sour for a few days, but they always worked it out.
“I'm sorry about your door,” Paul said, picking it up and inspecting the hinge. He'd ripped the door clean off of it, tearing up the wood and bending the metal.
“It's okay,” you replied, shuffling your feet, a nervous energy wafting from you.
Now that the heat of the moment had waned, the reality of situation came crashing down around him. How could he have been so awful to you?
“Y/n, I—”
“You don't have to apologize.” You cut him off. “I know the imprint is challenging, and for you to bond with someone you hated so much…” you trailed off, eyes welling with tears.
Paul rushed over, pulling you into his chest. “I never hated you, I was—” he buried his head in your hair, shame burning under his skin, “—I was afraid.”
“Of me?” you sniffled against his chest, tears wet on his skin.
He shook his head, then nodded. “Yes and no. I was scared of what you knew, what a danger that posed to my family. And then I saw you and…and the imprint gave you so much power over me.”
Your hands curled into his sides, your head burrowing closer, like you were trying to crawl into his skin.
“Not only were you in the position to destroy my family, but I would have done it for you if you asked me to. Ripped myself to pieces if that's what you wanted.”
You lifted your tear-streaked face to look at him. “I would never do that—”
“I know, I know.” He shushed you, dropping a kiss to your red nose. “I know that now.”
“I even burned the notes—”
“What?” He held you out at arms length, dark brows drawn together. “When?”
“Months ago,” you said, and his jaw dropped.
“Months ago? Why?”
“You imprinted on me, and I didn't—I wanted—”
Affection overwhelmed him, making his eyes sting and nose tingle. He cupped your face and drew you back towards him, brushing his lips against yours. “You wanted to protect me,” he said, bumping your noses together.
You nodded, reaching up to wipe something from his cheek. Not a tear, fuck no.
“But your research? You didn't burn all of it, did you?”
“No, no. Just the things about the pack, and anything that would lead someone down the same path I took.”
Paul just stared down at you, awestruck. He couldn't believe that he was holding you, kissing you, sharing secrets with you. It was the sweetest agony he’d ever experienced, next to imprinting on you.
“Paul, I—to be clear, I do want to fuck you.”
He snorted a laugh at the subject change, warmth spreading from his chest to the tips of his ears. “But?” He raised an eyebrow.
“But could we just…hang out for awhile? I know you, but I don't feel like I know you. Like what's your favorite color?” Your fingers traced absent shapes on his chest, eyes flitting nervously around his face.
He brushed his thumb beneath your right eye. “This one, your eyes.”
“You better stop it or I'm going to climb your wolfy ass like a tree.” You swatted his hand away and took a step back, leaving him laughing.
God, when was the last time he laughed like this?
“How about we start with unpacking your things?” He offered. “And I'll fix your door.”
You gave him a relieved smile. “Sounds perfect.”
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You and Paul spent the rest of the day righting your home. While you unpacked, he not only fixed the door, but about ten other small, broken things you didn't have the tools, the height, or the wherewithal to repair yourself.
When the sun began to set, Paul left you bundled up on the couch to pick up take out from your favorite place in Forks. He stationed Seth outside your door for protection, and Seth gave you a thumbs up through the window.
Paul returned half-an-hour later, and you ate at the coffee table so you could watch a movie, legs curled up beneath you, Paul's hand resting heavily on your thigh. Between every bite, he leaned in for kiss.
After you finished, you climbed up onto the couch and stretched out across his chest, soaking up his radiant heat like cat. You knew you still had a long way to go before you'd be able to fully commit to him, although in a lot of ways you already had.
He'd been amazing today, thoughtful, attentive, almost goofy. But Rome wasn't built in a day, and for this relationship to work, it needed to stand on a sturdy foundation of trust and respect.
Not magic, lupine bonding instincts.
But you were confident that in time, you and Paul would get there.
***smut ahead!*** 🚨
You pressed a few kisses along the muscular expanse of his chest, marveling at the specimen of a man beneath you. His pecs just looked so…
“Watch yourself, bookworm,” he warned, fisting your hair and pulling your head back, revealing the bite mark you'd left over his heart.
You were about to ask why, when you felt something hard surge against your hip. A devilish smile curled your lips.
You rolled your hips against him, the lightest grind, and his eyes fluttered closed, head falling back onto the arm of the couch. His hands gripped your waist freezing you in place.
“Baby, don't play with me,” he groaned, his cock already straining against his flannel sweatpants.
“But it's fuuun,” you teased, fastening your lips to the already fading bite mark and sucking hard.
“I won't be gentle.”
“If I wanted gentle, I'd find Jacob.”
Paul flipped you beneath him, quicker than you could blink, his enormous weight pressing you into the couch. “Say his name while I'm around again, and he won't have a dick to fuck with,” he growled, grinding his cock over your clothed pussy.
Already, you were so sensitive, your body lighting up with pleasure from the friction, the rumble of his voice in your ear. You rocked back against him, chasing that feeling.
“You smell fucking divine, babygirl,” he groaned, burying his head into your neck as you ground against him, meeting you thrust for thrust like a couple of horny teenagers. “Drove me wild, smelling you all the damn time. Felt like you were turning yourself on just to get a rise out of me.” He lapped at your neck, dragging his tongue along your thundering pulse.
“I was,” you admitted, breathless, your peak just out of reach.
He pulled his head back, his hips lifting off of you. “You were?” You expected to see anger in his eyes, but they were molten with desire, a predator eyeing his prey.
You bit your lip, nodding.
“You know I wasn't the only one that could smell you, right?” He cocked his head, eyes skating down your torso pinned beneath him before flicking back up to your face.
“I knew it made you jealous. And I wanted them to see what was yours.”
A growl echoed from the barrel of his chest. “You're going to be the fucking death of me.” He smashed his mouth to yours in a brutal, claiming kiss, his canines dragging across your lips before parting them with his tongue.
His hands found the buttons of your pj top, ripping it open like it was made of tissue paper, sending buttons scattering across the room.
“Hey!” You protested.
“I'll buy you a hundred more,” he said, diving into your bare tits, popping one pert nipple into his hot mouth, then the other, lashing them mercilessly with his tongue.
You cried out, arching into his mouth.
“Be as loud as you want, baby. Let them hear what's mine.” He tugged down your shorts, two thick fingers gliding over your soaked panties. You moaned again, lifting your hips to chase his touch. “That's it, y/n. Already so wet for me.”
He caught your mouth once more, swallowing your next sound as he slipped his fingers under your panties, making direct contact with your weeping pussy. He dipped the tip of his middle finger inside before swirling it around your clit, sending you into fucking orbit.
You bucked against him, throwing your head back against the couch cushions as your body tightened, your walls clenching around nothing. “Please,” you whined against his cheek. “Need you.”
“Aw, no more snarky ass comments?” He teased, lightly slapping your sensitive clit, just enough to make you writhe beneath him.
“Paul,” you begged, trying and failing to reach for his cock. He was too damned tall. “I've waited so long.” You knew you sounded pitiful, and if he hadn't rendered your brain to needy, slutty mush, you'd be mortified.
“I know, you’ve been such a patient girl for me.” He reached between you, freeing his cock so it slapped against your inner thigh. “I'm sorry it took me so long to take care of this sweet pussy.” He shifted himself down until his mouth was level with your slit. “Just a taste, baby? Then I promise to fuck you stupid.”
You nodded vigorously, carding your fingers through his black hair. You never thought Paul would be so chatty during sex, not that you were complaining. The filthy words in his growly voice was like music to your ears.
He flattened his tongue against your slit, licking a long stripe from your entrance to your clit, and you nearly came right then and there.
“Fuck, Paul,” you moaned, tightening your grip on his hair. His rumble of satisfaction vibrated your sensitive skin and you shivered. “I'm so fucking close.”
You didn't have to tell him twice. He started feasting on your pussy with abandon, slurping and sucking like you were his favorite meal on earth. Stars danced behind your eyes, broken moans and gibberish falling from your lips. You were certain the entire pack, and probably the next pack over, could hear you crying out for him, but you didn't give a single fuck.
He eased a finger inside of you, curling it against your spongy walls, and you shattered, an orgasm ripping through you at dizzying speed.
You screamed so loud he flinched, glancing up at you to make sure you weren’t hurt.
“Fucking hell, baby,” he purred, gently lapping at your clit as you twitched and jerked away, oversensitive. “Damn near broke my finger.” He rose up to hover over you, pressing light kisses along your cheeks and eyelids, coaxing you back to him.
You threw your arms around his neck and brought your lips to his, tasting yourself on his tongue. You felt him chuckle, his hands sliding under your back to press your hips against him.
“Something funny?” You nipped at his lower lip.
“They're begging me to keep it down,” he snickered.
“We'll get them some ear plugs.” You reached between your bodies, wrapping your fingers around his cock. The skin was so hot you nearly pulled away, the head slick with precum and pulsing against your wrist.
He grunted, his hips thrusting into your hand. “Now who’s playing.” He batted your hand away, and leaned back to line himself up with your entrance. “Ready for me?”
“God, yes.” You threw your head back as he started to slide in, your walls clenching hard around him.
“Let me in, babygirl,” he cooed, rubbing your thigh slung over his hip.
You forced your muscles to relax, breathing hard, and he slowly stretched you open, pain and pleasure stirring together until you couldn't differentiate the two, lost in the exquisite torture of him.
“I won't last five minutes with you squeezing me like that—fuck,” his voice cracked into a low moan, his hips stuttering forward almost involuntarily. “You know what? C’mere.” He guided your arms to wrap around his neck and braced his forearm against your lower back. In a quick movement, he stood up, bringing you with him.
Your bodies didn't separate an inch, your tits squished against his chest, his cock still buried inside you. Gravity pulled you down a little father onto him, in fact, and you both groaned at the new angle.
He carried you across the house and into your bedroom, tossing you onto the pillows by your headboard. You hadn't even stopped bouncing before he pounced, sliding back into your heat with a little more ease than before.
“There we go,” he murmured into your neck, drawing his hips back before rolling them forwards.
You clawed at his back, moaning against his ear as he thrust into you again and again, filling you near to splitting, before retreating again. Soon, you were stupid with pleasure, mumbling incoherently and lifting your hips in time with his.
“Look at you, so fucking pretty taking my cock. Feel good, baby?”
You nodded, tears squeezing from the corners of your eyes as he picked up the pace, pounding into you.
“Want to feel you come around me. Can you do that for me ‘fore I fill you up?” The pad of his middle finger circled your clit, making your eyes roll back into your head, your muscles turning to goo.
His was fighting to keep a stable pace, his muscles rippling across his abdomen, veins bulging along his thick arms. You could tell he was close, his eyes locked on where your bodies met.
“Fuck, Paul. I'm gonna come,” you whined, gripping his thighs as your body wound itself up, spiraling endlessly tighter.
“I'm with ‘ya, babygirl. C’mon,” he panted, making tighter circles on your clit, his whole body trembling with the effort to control himself.
The coil in your stomach snapped, hurtling you over your peak at the same moment he came undone, both of you crying out as the tsunami of pleasure dragged you down together.
You felt his cock buck inside of you, filling you with his boiling hot release. The temperature soothed your overworked muscles, and you sagged into the bed with a contented sigh. Your whole body was shivering in aftershocks, small waves of pleasure making you clench around his softening length.
He eased himself down onto your left side, gathering you into his chest. His heart hammered beneath his shining skin, sweat collecting along the grooves of muscle and his hairline.
“You're incredible,” he murmured, pressing a soft, open-mouthed kiss to your bruised lips. “Never thought I'd see you beg for me.”
You couldn't even think of a rebuttal, all of the attitude wrung out of your body like a sponge. You just swatted at his chest, though it took a concerted effort to even lift your arm.
“In all fairness, I’d beg like a dog for you,” he whispered, smiling.
“How the mighty fall,” you teased, kissing underneath his jaw.
You both were quiet for a few moments, breathing in time with one another, your heart beats synchronizing. Peace like you hadn't felt in years settled over you, an overwhelming *rightness* that welded your fractured heart together again.
This was the reason you came to Forks, even if you didn't know it at the time. Your soul was searching for his.
“So…” he shifted to look down at you. “Ready to go to dinner at Sam’s?”
You groaned, burying your head into his neck as he burst out laughing.
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aggggghhh, I love him.
Hope you enjoyed! 🫶
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cas-backwards-tie · 9 months ago
Text
Chapter One: News Crashing
Poly!TaskForce 141 x Omega!Reader
The Omega Pack Plan Masterlist
Summary: A change in procedure around base causes you to spiral as your world comes crashing down. There's only one way out of this and it starts with telling the truth.
Words: 4.4k
Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anxiety, Existentialism, Misogyny, Dismissive Attitudes, Angst, Rage
Mentions of: Medication,
A/N: Honestly, I'd been inspired by a few series (Standard Emergency Protocol and Pantry Solutions) I've read those and it caused me to want to write my own A/B/O COD AU, so I started this as a sort of funny fic awhile ago. I'm haven't entirely plotted out the whole story, but I have some ideas for the first few chapters. I was finally inspired to finish and post it because @cringeycookies liked the snippet I posted in a wip tag game. So thanks to everyone who inspired me, and a special thank you to @penelopepine for helping me with the dialogue and Price's reaction as I try to begin writing for them.
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"I'm sorry, Ma'am," the nurse responds, "we're no longer authorized to refill suppressants of any kinds for any purpose." With a push of the empty orange pill bottle back across the counter in your direction, she offers you an ugly forced smile.
"Is there really nothing we can do?!" You complain incredulously, "Nothing at all? What am I supposed to do with this?!" Taking the emptied bottle into your hands, you stare at the nurse with widened eyes and a wild look.
"There is no 'we'..." she rolls her eyes in response, focus returning to the papers before her. "But if you insist, you can always bring it up with your CO, or the Base Commander." She scribbles something out on the page, but you can hardly focus when your world is virtually crumbling apart around you. "Now if you don't mind, some of us actually have work to do around here."
Still stunned, you can't help the way your breathing picks up as your heart begins to race. About a month ago now there was a base-wide meeting where they'd finally cracked down and implemented a new program the government is trying out: OPP. The Omega Pack Plan. While it's uncommon for Omegas to even be recruited into the military to begin with, such a thing does exist. Regardless, the Base Commander gathered everyone in the Auditorium for a presentation to talk about the new program and how the army would implement it into the troops. Luckily, considering you're on an elite Task Force, it doesn't apply to you. At least... it didn't.
"What the hell is this?!" You yell, tossing the orange bottle in his direction.
He'd heard the stomps all the way down the hall and smelled you coming, so he's neither surprised by your appearance, nor startled by the toss of the bottle. John swiftly catches it in his hand as he looks up at you. "What?" He inquires, finally glancing down to examine what he's caught. "A pill bottle?"
"Captain, it's empty! They won't refill it- I can-"
A groan tumbles past his lips as he drags a hand down his beard. "Look, Panther-" referring to you by your callsign, interesting move. "There's nothing I can do, it's over my head now. I wish I could do something, but I can't." Sitting back in his leather chair, Price places the bottle on the desk; a faint rap of the plastic hitting the wood is the only sound between you momentarily before you hurriedly shut the door.
Panic begins to flood your system as you're not sure how to handle this. It's your turn to freak out. You know how this goes, you know the story now; ever since they'd implemented and dispersed the Omegas into the troops, they'd started implementing them into the Task Forces, and now they have to do so with the One Four One. Fingers curling in and out of shapes as you try to process your next move, you speak before you can even begin to plan what you're going to tell him.
"I- I'm- I..." You're pacing his office now, the heavy gaze of your Captain upon you as you try to prevent yourself from hyperventilating. The thing is, you're usually good with pressure- really good. It's your job to be good. It's just... this is different. This is your life, your livelihood at stake, the livelihood of all your future generations to come.
A sigh resounds throughout the office before you hear the low timbre of his voice. "Dove," he calls out with a gentle tone, "I want you to take a deep breath for me. Alright?" With the calm and even sound of your Captain's voice and the assured look on his face, you comply. Exhaling the last of your breath, you close your eyes and focus in on the deep intake of air through your nose. With the parting of your lips you slowly release it before giving yourself a moment.
When you open your eyes he gestures to the seat before his desk, though you know he won't take offense if you decline. Hesitant, one hand finds its way to the other, wrapping around your arm as you listen to him speak. "Now, can you explain what has you in this state? I assure you that there's nothing that can't be dealt with." You want to trust him, you know him--John Price--your Captain. He's always had your back, always made sure you felt comfortable in the Taskforce, always made an effort to check on you after things got rough.
You nod. Licking your lips, you search his blue eyes as you tentatively take the seat across him.
"Whatever it is, we'll deal with it, alright? I can guarantee you that unless you're trying to tell me you're an Omega, nothing you say is going to shock me that warrants the amount of panic you're putting yourself through," Price chuckles. He's obviously joking, trying to break the tension with humor. Lips drawn upward into a small smile, the Captain stares at you expectantly.
"What if I am?" You whisper, eyes unable to tear from his visage as you try and gauge his reaction. Unexpectedly, silence fills the space between you and feels deafening in the small space. The growing comfort of his office these couple of months now feels like a cage you're forced to stay in, under watch, as you stare down your superior on the brink of a battle to the death. And that's what you do. His blue eyes bore into yours, skeptically shifting between your left and right as he seems to try and get a read on you.
All of the sudden you jump at the smack of his hands hitting the desk in front of him. He laughs at you.
He's laughing at you.
And you're sitting there with your guts spilled out, dread eating away at the pit in your stomach... and he's laughing. It feels like forever is passing you by as you stare at him in shock, this moment between the two of you frozen in time as nothing else persists.
"I understand what this was now," Price explains, still chuckling to himself as he shakes his head. There's a warm smile on his face that feels eerie considering the dire context of the situation at hand. "You got me! I fully believed you for a second there, too."
Eyebrows furrowing in dark realization, you can't help but stare at him wildly. "Wha-" You begin to question him and his line of thinking, but he cuts you off.
"This was all a prank, right? The bottle, the hysterics- you really outdid yourself, Sergeant." Leaning back in his chair, he props his ankle up on his other knee. "Because let me tell you, this was good. Better than anything Soap's cooked up in awhile. Did you come up with it yourself?" There's a cheeky grin on his lips. "Ah, I know you did."
Lips opening and closing like a fish out of water, you sit in the armchair across from him pale with a dazed look across your face. He doesn't actually think that this was...
"Well, with your little triumph in your pocket, I say we get back to work, yeah? I've got some new leads from MI6 that've just popped in." With that, the man stands from his desk and rounds it. "Garrick should be back around Tea. I'll see you in the Command Station then," he informs you. It's then that he passes by, a genial clap on your shoulder while he's at it.
Left stunned in silence, you can't help but grit your teeth, consequentially pronouncing your jaw as anger ebbs through your bloodstream. Breath getting heavier, you can't help but loathe the meeting tonight. Your Captain might be satisfied with the conversation, but all you feel is discouraged. He's abandoned you, left you alone in his office with a humiliating sense of betrayal and shattered trust. Almost like you hadn't just told him your biggest secret at all.
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Punching the standard heavy punching bag hanging in front of you, you grunt, ignoring the pain that gnaws at your knuckles underneath the reusable hand wraps. Sweat builds on your brow as you continue to unleash your pent up anger on the gym’s equipment. How could he?! When had you ever pulled anything even similar to this? Never! And the fact that you’ve only been on the team for a handful of months only exacerbates the abandonment you’re feeling right now. He’s your Captain! Regardless of your feelings or the situation at hand, isn’t he supposed to be there for you? He’d promised from the get go to help you with whatever you need, and now the one time you go to him for aid it backfires in your face and leaves you without any sort of solution going forward aside from straight up telling the whole team the flat out truth, and God forbid! You can’t even begin to fathom how that’d go.
A pent up and frustrated yell almost akin to something of a growl emanates from you as you tear into another round of swift jabs and punches. Regardless of the situation at hand, you’ve been trying to build up your upper body’s strength and letting out the anger you’d accumulated over this morning’s events seemed like a perfect opportunity to let loose.
The stretches and treadmill routine didn’t take a lot out of you, but the weights, and now the punching bag definitely is starting to take its toll. Sweat beads at your forehead in rivulets that drip down the sides of your neck, down your scalp past your neck and between your shoulder blades. Tank top soaked in sweat, you breathe hard as your heart pumps rapidly in your chest. You would’ve wound up here at some point or another tonight, but the Captain’s discourteous response certainly led to an earlier workout time.
While others sparsely litter the gym’s floor, you pay them no mind and vice versa. It’s not uncommon for soldiers to be found blowing off steam or aiming to beat their highest reps on the weights. Yet, this gym is reserved for higher standing members of the Force, the gym on the far side of the base where there are less people, offices, and considering the regular army men train in the bigger gym closer to their quarters, it’s mostly other higher ranked officers in here.
“Captain’s lookin’ for ya,” Markowski, another Sergeant that you’d come to befriend on base announces from the doorway, having poked his head in after leaving a few minutes earlier. He belongs to a different Task Force.
A groan tumbles out of you as you realize it’s already that time. Just as the door clicks shut, your phone chimes loudly with the alarm you’d set earlier going off. A few quick swipes of your fingers, you turn the alarm off and unlock the device, seeing a number of messages flood your notifications.
Kyle: You hear they’ve bumped up the timeline? 😯
Johnny: “ https://Tiktok/Shattered.Rat567 ” Had me rollin’ 🤣👏🏻 Gotta check it, Bonnie
Simon: You coming to the meeting or not? 🤨
Johnny: Where r u? You’re usually first here 👀 Cap’s getting peeved, watch out
Not looking forward to the inevitable mess of a meeting before you, you don’t bother rushing to join the men. With a wash of your face in the women’s locker room, a speedy bathroom break, and a grab of the items you’d brought with you, you’re heading for the Command Station.
With the time Price set the meeting, you won't get to eat dinner till afterward. You'd be lying if you said you weren't annoyed by this entire situation, your agitation from neglecting your hunger earlier has certainly come to bite you in the backside.
While you don’t have time to respond to their texts, having set the alarm with only enough time to get back to your team’s Command ‘station’ albeit more like your headquarters before heading out. Speed-walking through the orderly halls with a haste perfectly common around here, you navigate with a well practiced knowledge. Though you’ve only been here coming up on six months soon, you’re well acquainted with this part of the base.
Rounding the corner, you’re in the hall, close. Yet, the worry of being late lingers in the back of your mind and adds another layer of annoyance on top of your residual anger buried deep down from this morning’s situation. You’d inevitably come up with your solution. It’s not one you like… but it’s the only logical option. Another turn and you’re striding into the big garage-like room.
“Nice of you to finally join us, Sergeant,” Price calls out to you. Lifting his eyes from the map laid out across your station's table, he glares in your direction.
“What took you so long?” Soap snaps, his brows slightly furrowed as he stares at you from the opposite side of the table, hands lazily wrapped around his vest’s straps.
A look at your watch tells you that you’re not even late, the meeting doesn’t officially start for another minute! But you are usually waiting on them. He’s got you there.
“Yeah, you’re usually the first one here. It’s not like you,” Gaz whispers under his breath as you sidle up alongside Ghost, Gaz standing diagonal to you right beside Price at the head of the table.
“Focus,” Ghost orders the men, his hands tucked in his hoodie’s pocket. You don’t fail to notice the way he subtly takes a step further away from you as soon as they start talking again. Price goes back to talking plans as Gaz is questioning the circumstances of the information the Captain had acquired earlier when he’d had to leave the office.
“Which is exactly why-”
A heavy exhale on your behalf leaves the men frozen as their eyes drift back to you. “Do you have something you’d like to say, Panther?” The Captain questions. Jaw clenched, you tear your eyes from the map they’d settled on.
“We’ve got a big problem,” you announce, cutting off the Captain as you finally raise your gaze to meet Price’s slightly widened blue eyes.
“Well, if you see something that needs changin’ then let’s hear it,” he responds. A ‘hmph’ follows as he crosses his arms over his chest and sits his weight back onto his heels.
“It’s not about the op,” you correct him. Tilting your head side to side you attempt to crack the kinks in your neck while standing a little straighter to appear more engaged and serious.
“And it’s more important than this? What we’re doin’ right now?” Soap questions, his hands dropping to rest on the table as he looms over it, eyeing you with frustration obvious in his irises.
“What is it?” Gaz asks, a quirk of his eyebrow garnering your attention for a split-second. He’s genuinely asking, and there doesn’t seem to be a hostility in his scent as he turns his attention to you. Then there’s Ghost, who you don’t even need to look at to feel his heavy gaze on you, waiting expectantly.
“Actually, it is,” you argue with Soap, anger beginning to boil in your belly, the frustration and angst having been left to simmer all afternoon. “I can’t believe you didn’t take me seriously when I came to you earlier,” you turn your anger on Price. He looks taken aback by the outburst, something you’re not known for.
“Dove,” he calls calmly, hands out in an attempt to pacify.
“Don’t-” you bark, starting to raise your voice without realizing it. “I came to you in confidance! Trusting you when you said you’d be there to help me if I ever needed it! How could you?” Gritting your teeth, you don’t realize how hard you’re breathing as your chest heaves with anger.
“Woah, woah-” Gaz sputters, “What-” holding his hands out to try and diffuse the argument.
“I let myself be vulnerable-” You continue to shout.
“Isn’t this something that shoul-” Soap attempts to dissuade, backing down as he puts his hands out.
“-and tell you the truth, and-” you’re lunging for him across the table. You’re held back by a massive hand on your shoulder. “You laugh in my face?! What the fuck is wrong with you?”
You're suddenly pulled back, off your feet, and shoved into a metal chair that'd been nearby. Your Lieutenant is hovering over you, his cold eyes now tinged with a spark of anger as they bore into you scrutinizingly. There's the sound of commotion behind him, multiple voices overlapping, yet you can't see anything with that utter giant in front of you!
“Does anyone wanna explain what the bloody hell is goin’ on here?” Ghost snaps. It's only then when the man steps aside that you can see where everyone is. With both of you in your respective corners, you simply glare at the Captain from over your crossed arms out in front of you.
“Are you bleedin’ kidding me, ya Scally?” Price grunts as he shrugs Gaz’ hand off his shoulder. “You’re still on about it! When w-"
"That doesn't explain what happened, Cap," Gaz interrupts, stopping him from going off and getting them nowhere.
He groans, running a hand over his face once more before composing himself. Everyone waits for an explanation—you too—he’d been the first to speak, and you’re curious to hear what he comes up with. “She came into my office, bloody cryin’, tossing me a pill bottle, muttering about, saying she’s a-”
You don’t dare let him finish, not wanting him to be the one to finally say it, exposing your truth to the team. "Omega. I’m an Omega, ” you finish his sentence. While you’re scared to meet their faces, you take a deep breath and force yourself to do so.
"Christ," Price curses, fingers coming up to pinch the skin between his brows as he hangs his head.
Ghost's stoicism is nothing unordinary, and in fact, is somewhat a comfort considering you'd expected nothing less from him.
Gaz looks stunned for a moment, eyes flitting about the other’s faces before the serious look on his face morphs. Lips slowly drawing upward, you shouldn’t be surprised when he starts laughing. "Yeah right," Garrick teases, "and I'm actually the Prime Minister."
Yet, it's not just him. The uproarious laughter from your right only adds fuel to the already burning flame as the two other Sergeants laugh like idiots. All as if it's some poor joke with no consequences to anyone's life, and yet... it's the truth. At the end of the day, it doesn't change anything. At the end of the day, your life is still in jeopardy and they're treating it like some joke. Unable to form any sort of retort, you simply blink; stuck in a stupor raw, stung, and with a dumb look on your face.
Soap, rounding the table slaps Gaz on the back, his face flushed red from laughing so hard. "Yer makin' my stomach hurt. God," he eggs the other on between his dying chuckles and attempting to catch his breath.
"You're really just gonna stand there and laugh?!" You finally burst. Anger surely must be coming off your scent in waves, but you don't care. Standing from the chair, you don't flinch as Ghost swipes his arm out in front of you in case you were going for the Captain again. There will be no physical altercation on his watch.
"She already pulled this on me earlier, mind you, and now what? You're trying to pull it over on the lads' too, eh?" Price goads you.
"And I was telling the truth! You're the one who said I was joking," you point out. The volume of your voice is lost on you, partially blinded by the fury bleeding out.
"I suppose you never did admit to it being a prank," Price reasons, fingers grazing his beard as he runs them over it repeatedly in thought. "But how do you expect us to believe that when you clearly smell of a Beta?"
"Even on the battlefield, after everything we've been through-" Gaz starts.
"After yer all sweaty from a workout, too. I think we'd notice, Pan," Johnny argues, illuminating a legitimate point of consideration.
"Oh please," you mutter quietly to yourself. Shaking your head, you can't believe they're really all being this daft right now. "Like you have heard of those Scent Spritzers.”
There are various perfumes on the market specifically designed to alter one’s scent. Most use it smell like an Alpha when they’re not, or an Omega when they’re wanting to seduce an Alpha when going out. But Omegas posing as Betas was rarely heard of. You’re more than sure it happens more frequently than people know of, they just haven’t been caught. And in your line of work? It’s scarce. People are thoroughly vetted, but… you’d been on suppressants for a long, long time. And a Beta perfume only perfected your hiding.
“Did you forget we’re Alphas, love? We’d be able to smell you across the room if you were,” Gaz taunts. There’s a puff of his chest that makes his cockiness even more annoying than usual.
"You really want to be an Omega? Dumb yourself down to some weak fragile thing?” Johnny jokes, nudging Gaz’ arm as he shakes his head.
“A doll who can get whoever she wants? Want to be nothing more than good for knockin' up and popping out pups?” Gaz adds on.
“Are you serious right now?” You test, seething under your skin as your hands ball up into fists. “How could you say that?!”
“It’s what people say,” Ghost comments.
“Nobody would want that and you’re out here lying about it,” Johnny pokes.
“We’re only trying to point out the flaws in your little rouse, Pan,” Gaz says, a smile lighting up his features as he crosses his arms over his chest.
"And what if I was lying, hm? Would that change anything you just said to me? How you feel about Omegas?" You scoff.
“This isn’t about your designation,” Price finally speaks. Fingers still weaved into his beard, his blue eyes lift to meet yours. “I see what this is about now, but there's nothin' to worry about, Dove.” Your Captain takes on a softer tone and all of the sudden you feel yourself start to get emotional as a twinge of sadness, of the hurt bleeding through upon understanding makes you feel seen.
“I know it's intimidating, the thought of having your first unmedicated heat, but we have medics here. It's natural. Heats, ruts, we all have them. And, hey... at least you're not an Omega, right?" Whatever relief you’d momentarily experienced sinks back down in your gut with the speed of a rollercoaster drop. It’s as silent as a stakeout, the only sound being people’s breathing. And the lack of yours.
It takes a moment to gather yourself, everyone’s eyes on you with the serious topic change. While sex and the downsides to a designation are something discussed with the boys, you’d often been left out. And to your comfort. "You know what? I can’t do this,” you retort. Backing from the group, you toss your hands up. “I guess you'll just have to wait and see," you bite back. With a whip of your hair over your shoulder, you head for the door.
The room is silent once more as everyone gawks. You’d never reacted in such a manner, had an outburst like that… this is… certainly different, and something they’re not at all used to.
“It’s because they took away her suppressants today,” Price explains. It might not have been something the group should be privileged to know. A private matter, really… but with the way you acted? He felt the men deserve an explanation, at least.
“That makes sense,” Gaz responds quietly, eyes still on the door you’d gone through.
“That’s no excuse,” Johnny counters, arms crossing over his chest with a scowl on his lips.
"Well... that went better than I thought,” Ghost comments with a shrug. “Back to the plan? We can fill her in later.”
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tojisun · 1 year ago
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biting a rock thinking about (retired) simon’s daily acts of service </33
he cuts open a pomegranate for you and pours the seeds into a bowl so it’s easier for you to eat them. he pushes your hair away so that not a single one gets caught when he zips up the zipper on the back of your clothes. he hooks your necklace for you, apologizing when it’s taking so long for him to do so because the clasp keeps slipping from his pinched fingers. he takes the fuzzy socks from your hold so he can slide them on your feet himself, his big hands massaging the back of your shins with murmured praises because he knows how much your legs are hurting after such a tiring day. he talks to your plants because you told him, in passing, how you heard that plants apparently react to human voices the way people do so he makes sure to tell them how much he loves you—he thinks it will help maintain the healthy lushness of their leaves. he brews you coffee before fixing himself up a cup of tea; then, he learns how to make iced coffee when he noticed that you prefer colder drinks. he’s always the one who ties your shoelaces, be it at home or outside.
(now that he’s retired, i love imagining simon round with all the love he carries, both for you and from you. he is softer now. happier. yes, he still prefers to keep to himself, still prefers the quiet. but now it is not tainted with the necessity to survive, instead, it is filled with tenderness and love. and you.)
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holylulusworld · 25 days ago
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Dinner for a pack
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Dinner for a pack
Summary: It’s your turn to host dinner for a family event. Your family let you down once again. Bucky and his gang are more than happy to jump in.
Pairing: Biker(Alpha)Bucky Barnes x Neighbor (Omega) Reader
Characters: Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, Brock Rumlow
Warnings: angst, a/b/o, shitty family, fluff
This story was written for @buckybarnesevents Hot Bucky Summer - Week 1 - “Mind your own damn business.” + embarrassment
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Bucky watches you carry another bag filled with groceries into your house. He’s antsy, smelling the food on your stove and the pie you must’ve baked this morning.
“You look…like a hungry beast,” Steve Rogers, ever the observant, annoying best friend, says. “Is it the food or the woman?” He snorts, watching Bucky’s face scrunch up in confusion.
“I don’t know what you are talking about,” the alpha scoffs and turns back around to polish his bike. He angrily rubs a stain off the bike, ignoring Steve’s nagging voice.
“You should go over there and tell her she’s yours.” The blonde doesn’t know when to stop. “Buck, I’m telling you, she’s a shy one. You've got to make her yours and not give her the chance to shy away.”
“Punk, leave me alone with your lousy matchmaking skills.” Bucky throws the rag he used to clean his bike at Steve.
The blonde easily catches the rag and throws it back at Bucky. Right into the brunette’s face. “Hey, I matched Natasha and Yelena. Do not underestimate the power of Steve Rogers.”
Bucky scoffs. “Last time you tried to set me up with a woman, she tried to steal my bike and was into women. She was all over Yelena.”
“It’s not my fault you lost your mojo, Buck.” Steve shrugs and turns his head to watch you carry flowers into your house. “Hm…big event this time. A birthday or an anniversary, maybe?”
“UH—I think she said something about an anniversary.” Bucky rubs his scruffy chin, trying to remember what you were talking about with your neighbor next door. He tries not to give away that he was listening to your conversation. “I bet she’s going to host the anniversary dinner.”
“And?” Steve cocks his head, a smirk on his face. “Did you ask if you can join them? As her alpha, you should finally meet the family.”
“You’re an ass only to be an ass,” Bucky grunts and kicks a stone at Steve. “She’s not my omega. Y/N is a neighbor, a good one. Whenever I need something, she helps me out and tells me to keep it.”
“Yeah, because she’s courting you, Buck.” Steve laughs and dodges another attack with the rag. “Just saying, grab the girl and make her yours.”
“It’s not that easy, Steve. You know that.” Bucky sighs deeply while running one hand down his face. “Mating is complicated. Most of the time, omegas are scared of alphas like me.”
“Buck, with all due respect, you’re a coward.” Sam laughs in his friend’s face. “You want that omega. She’s the one, and you are still looking for an excuse to not mate her.”
“Who asked you, man?” Bucky angrily replies. He wants to scold his friends, but then you open the front door, looking left and right only to walk back inside. “Huh, what was that?”
“I don’t know. It looked like she was looking for someone to show,” Sam replies. He looks at your door, watching you step outside to sit on one of the front porch steps. “Hmm…what’s with her?”
Bucky, Steve, and Sam glance your way. You’re sitting on the step, getting your phone out of your pocket. You sigh while staring at the device.
“Should I go over and ask if she’s okay?” Bucky says more to himself than to his friends. “I think she looks sad.”
“You could go over and ask for some sugar,” Steve grins at his idea, proud of himself.
“What?” Bucky can’t believe his friend sometimes. “She looks sad, and you want me to ask her for some sugar? I don’t think she’s in the mood for naughty things.”
Steve groans. “Not like give me some sugar. I meant the sugar you put in your tea.”
“Oh—OH!” Bucky grins. “That’s not the worst idea you ever had.” He looks down at his body and checks his outfit. “How do I look?”
Sam snorts. “Honestly? Like a needy alpha close to his rut. You look like shit, but Y/N is a kind-hearted person and won’t send you away.”
“Asshole,” Bucky growls in Sam’s direction. “Next time you want me to fix your bike, you can go to Brock.” The alpha huffs before stalking toward your house.
“Aw, look at them,” Steve snickers. “They grow so fast. I bet he already has hair on his sack.”
Sam snorts, watching his friend nervously walk toward you. “What can I say? We are witnessing young love, Steve. Young love.”
Bucky ignores his friends’ laughter and walks a little faster toward you. “Y/N…hey.” He clears his throat to get your attention. You look up at him, shielding your eyes from the sun with your hand.
“Bucky…hi.” You sniffle and try to blink the tears in your eyes away. “Do you need something?”
“I—” Bucky tries to come up with a lie, but he stops himself, seeing the tears in your eyes. “What happened, Angel?”
“Nothing,” you sniff and look away, embarrassed because Bucky saw right through your façade. You don’t want to bother your neighbor with your problems.
Before you can protest, Bucky sits next to you to snatch your phone out of your hands. He frowns deeply, reading the message your mother sent you a few minutes ago. “This doesn’t look like nothing to me, Y/N.”
“It’s not a big deal,” you lie poorly. “They want to eat food from a professional cook, not their daughter. It’s their anniversary, and they can do whatever they want. My brother invited them, so…”
“They canceled plans right before they should have arrived at your place. That’s not okay, Angel. That’s shitty.” Bucky growls loudly, catching Steve and Sam’s attention.
“I cooked all day, baked and prepared the table for ten people, and…” You whimper and hide your face on Bucky’s shoulder. “They not only forgot to tell me earlier but didn’t invite me either.”
“Fuck, that’s just awful.” Bucky carefully wraps his arm around your shoulders. “You put a lot of effort into cooking for them, and they stood you up.”
“I asked if I could come along, and they said no. There’s no chair for me because they invited one of their book club friends and their partner.” You choke out a sob. “Why are they doing this to me? I made so much food, pie, and dessert for ten or more people.”
“Food?” Brock suddenly stands in front of your house, rubbing his growling stomach. “Sweetie, do you want me to eat it all?”
“Uh—wait!” You gasp, grabbing Bucky’s hand. “Do you want to eat with me?” You look at Bucky, hoping he won’t turn you down too.
“I’ll get some food too, right?” Sam is quick to offer help. “I’m a hungry man, Y/N. I can eat for ten!”
“Guys, Y/N cooked for her family. I don’t think she wants to share with us.” Bucky grunts at his friends. “Leave her alone. This is not the right time to get free food.”
“But…” You sniffle and wipe your eyes. “I have so much food, and you have many friends. You can come over. I know Natasha likes my food. She tried everything I made for my test cooking.”
“She did?” Glaring at Natasha, who is standing across the street, Bucky huffs. “She didn’t say a word.”
“It’s free food, Barnes. Don’t overthink things,” Brock mutters under his breath. “I haven’t had homemade food in ages.”
“I don’t want to throw all the food away,” you murmur and lean into Bucky’s embrace. “If your friends are hungry, I want them to eat the food.”
“You heard her, Bucky.” Rumlow pats his belly again. “We are going to dine like kings thanks to this wonderful lady. Let me get something for her.”
He walks off to get some booze and chocolate ice cream from Natasha’s secret stash.
“Do you really want to feed the whole gang?” Bucky asks, loving the feeling of having you in his arms.
“My family let me down. If they do not want the food I cooked, let me feed your family. I bet they’ll be better guests than my family.” Your voice cracks, but you feel your heart flutter because Bucky presses you even closer to his body.
“You belong to my family now too, Angel,” he simply states. The alpha doesn’t waste time on courting or making his claim on you known. He’s your alpha, and you are his omega—it’s that simple. “You’re my omega.”
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You smile and even laugh as Brock, Yelena, Natasha, Sam, Clint, Thor, his brother Loki, Steve, Bucky, and Okoye sit around your dining room. They all cheer for you, your food, and the booze Brock smuggled into your house.
“Cheers to Bucky, who finally told his omega he wants to court her!” Sam grins at you.
Bucky grits his teeth, glaring at Sam. “Mind your own damn business for once, Wilson,” Bucky grunts, but his tone is playful. “Now, let’s all thank Y/N again for feeding the hungry pack and for being a selfless person.”
Everyone cheers for you, your food, and the bond Bucky and you will soon form.
Part 2
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