#there really is no way to explain all of this without sounding crazy
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
sweet smile â sam winchester
cw : fluff, gn!reader, detective!reader, transfem!sam, barely any dialogue, mentions of death/violence, not proofread, also definitely not my best writing but that's okay, no y/n, 1.9K words. requested !
summary : it's almost startling how quickly you develop a small crush on the most gorgeous fbi agent you've ever seen when she comes in to help solve your case.
on nearly any occasion, sam stays out of the local police stations during cases as much as she can. and usually, with her pantsuit and fake fbi badge, the police are as glad to see her go as she is to leave. but sitting next to you and your meticulously constructed evidence board, she doesnât mind spending extra time here.
youâre the lead detective on this case, and sam finds you both sweet, cute, and clearly very intelligent. samâs pretty sure that she and dean are dealing with a wraith this time around, but even without the knowledge of the supernatural, youâve managed to compile an impressive amount of evidence and string it together in a way that actually makes sense. she thinks that this might be the first time that normal detective work might actually lead her and dean straight to the killer.
so, sam sent dean off to go check out one of the crime scenes while she stays here, listening intently as you carefully explain each and every detail of your evidence board. she can tell that youâve gathered enough information to actually start seeking out suspects. of course, youâre still unable to fully explain the cause of death, but otherwise, sam canât help but be highly impressed with your work.
not only does she get extra help in searching for official suspectsâyouâve cleared her a spot on your desk across from your own seat and offered your help doing researchâbut sheâs also blessed with the pleasant sight and sounds of you explaining everything to her. youâre rather endearing as you talk, and the blinds in the office are open wide, letting the mid-morning sunlight cast a bright line along your profile each time your head tilts to a certain angle.
she gives you a sweet smile when you're done explaining. any other day, with any other person, sheâd give a kind, polite smile. thereâs a difference. and, of course, you wouldnât know that, but the smile sends your heart racing anyway.
âthank you, detective,â she says, sincere and unrushed. now that youâve given her all the information that you have, she doesnât need to stay any longer. but she wants to take you up on your offer. she wants to sit right across from you on your small desk and whatever excuse she can get to keep watching the way your fingers fiddle with the hem of your shirt or hear your impassioned voice as you do everything you can to be sure that the victimâs families receive closure and justice.
âof croup se,â you smile back, hoping that you at least look like your composure remains intact. internally, youâre undeniably freaking out about how absolutely gorgeous she is. âthank you for making the trip over to help us out with this case. i really canât help but feel like weâre missing something big. this cause of death is driving me crazy.âÂ
normally, you hate the feds. but sheâs so pretty and sincere that you canât do anything but love the fact that sheâs here. and she smiles at you in the most lovely way that it makes your cheeks heat up.
âjust doing our job,â she says. her smile isnât quite as life-threatening this timeâyour heart only skips a beat or twoâbut she says those words like sheâs less concerned about the job part than the part where sheâs helping you out. from the way her partner acted early, it seems like they donât really spend all that much time with the local police on cases. which means sheâs staying longer than necessary, for one reason or another. and she says that sheâs just doing her job when her job doesnât require her to be here and looking at you like youâre the reason. it almost feels like sheâs flirting. you might go into cardiac arrest if thatâs the case.
you tell yourself that sheâs too beautiful to be staying behind just for you. then she grabs the chair from you that you picked for her so that you donât have to carry it any longer than necessary. and then when she sits across from you and her long legs keep brushing against yours in the cramped space, she looks up from her computer with a pretty, bashful smile and a sweet, murmured apology.
making eye contact with her is like that tiny, pleased, and slightly childish rush one gets when quickly running a finger through a candleâs flame. itâs simple, not some overwhelming surge of exhilarating adrenaline, but you find this to be just as effective in making you feel something for her. itâs softer, like the melting of wax and slight singe on a fingertip. itâs unwise to keep putting skin to flame, even for a split moment, but her gaze doesnât burn, you just know it. itâs too kind and well-meaning, so you figure it isnât fire, but something akin. some sort of warmth and light that couldnât possibly do any harm. youâll keep locking eyes with her because everything about her feels safe and pure.
her presence is a lovely contrast to the gore and death and confusion of this case. funny, sheâs been thinking the same about you. neither of you are unused to violence or dead bodies, but a pretty face to ease the eyes never hurts.
itâs a bit hard to concentrate with her right there, but you make do. thereâs enough motivation in being some sort of help to her.Â
the shadows cast by the open blinds shift as the sun rises to its noontime peak in the sky. itâs one p.m. before you know it, then youâre hungry and most definitely distracted by her pretty face.
you softly shut your laptop to subtly grab her attention, your gaze already waiting for hers when she looks up. your lips quirk up into a light smile, tired of frowning at police records and endless files and reports. there must be something in the air today, because the moment you have her attention, you rest your chin on your palm and manage not to break eye contact as you speak.
âiâm hungry,â you say simply, âwe should catch lunch and a break.â
sam feels guilty. you look at her with this soft sort of hope, as if it would make a difference in your day to spend more time with her. thereâs not really any expectation along with that hope and sweetness, like even just being friendly with each other while sheâs in town is perfectly nice enough for you.
but sam knows that being around her any more than that could never be good for you. youâre looking to her for a sense of reprieve within all this death and stress of the case. she understands; sheâd love to have lunch with you, preferably somewhere outside the precinct so that it can feel a little more personal. itâs just that sheâs convinced that she most certainly isnât any sort of real respite. sure, she smiles at you when she thinks youâre being cute, but her presence here represents a worse, more violent, and darker truth about your case, about the world that she hopes you never come to know of.
and yet, the look in your eyes is enough to persuade her that lunch canât do any harm.
âthat sounds like a good idea,â she smiles. she should be allowed to push down that constant guilt every once and a while, right? she hopes you suggest eating somewhere else.
you have to keep your smile from growing too wide. you hope itâs not too much to suggest eating somewhere else. âthereâs a great cafe down the street, as long as youâre okay with the cityâs best sandwiches.â
sam thinks itâs quite adorable the way that you come across shy and forward all at once. you look bashful while you speak, but are playful and simple without stumbling over your words. it gives her confidence, lets her wonder if flirting with you would make your cheeks heat up.
âi definitely wonât say no to the cityâs best sandwiches with the cityâs best detective,â she says, closing her own laptop. it was a bit of a fight to maintain eye contact throughout the whole line; her felt confidence doesnât really remedy her inherent awkwardness. but she made it through her little quip and indeed, sheâs pretty sure that sheâs succeeded in making you a bit flustered.
âyou flatter me,â you refute after a moment, trying to sound cool, but laughing awkwardly. if you werenât lost in her damn gorgeous eyes, youâd cringe at yourself. she just finds it endearing.
âiâm serious,â she says, and the way her voice turns all sincere proves just that, âyouâve done some really great detective work. half the time when we show up, the police have almost nothing to go off of. usually itâs not their fault, but most places iâve seen would have been about ten times more clueless than you are.â
heat rises up your neck, but you canât help but feel proud to hear it. she sounds far too sincere to just be flirting. âthank you,â you murmur, smiling softly.
she pulls on the brown knee-length overcoat that she wore when she first came in, and youâd probably start drooling over how good she looks in it if you stared a second longer. so you pull on your own jacket and walk into the crisp november air with her.
the walk is short, just across the street and a few businesses down to the right. even so, you think youâd like to keep walking with her, maybe do this sometime again. it feels like wishful thinking, but maybe youâll have another chance before she goes. itâs startlingly easy to imagine holding her hand or sharing an umbrella or fixing her scarf. sheâs not even wearing one, but you know sheâd look all soft and cozy if she did.
in the cafe, she orders a coffee that sounds nice and a simple caprese sandwich. tomatoes arenât really any good at this time of year, but when her eyes skim the menu, they skip over the options with meats and you wonder if sheâs vegetarian or if she just prefers not to eat deli meats.
when you sit, you call her agent, and she says to just call her sam. it rolls off your tongue so nicely, makes your cheeks feel a little warm. you insist that, if thatâs the case, sheâd better call you by your first name as well. when she does, you nearly choke on your hot drink. if you werenât aware of this little workplace crush on her, youâd think youâre beginning to develop a fever.
sitting and talking with her, sharing looks out the window to people watch or sharing looks to secretly think of how pretty the other is, and wasting time to avoid going back is all soft and sweet with her. considering your nerves, itâs much easier than expected, too.
unfortunately, you canât dawdle forever. she walks back with you, but doesnât sit. instead, she gathers her things and tells you with a regretful smile that she has to meet back up with her partner to continue on their end of the investigation. you donât show it too much, smiling back and nodding in understanding, but youâre certainly sad to see her go.
maybe sheâll be back.
#sam winchester x reader#tfem!sam x reader#sam winchester fluff#sam winchester x gn!reader#sam winchester x you#sam winchester#supernatural angst#sam winchester angst#sam winchester fanfiction#supernatural fluff#sam winchester headcanon#tfem!sam winchester#sam winchester fic#supernatural fanfiction#sam winchester oneshot#spn fanfiction#supernatural oneshot#sam winchester scenarios#supernatural scenarios#sam winchester imagine#supernatural sam winchester#spn sam winchester#supernatural#supernatural requests#sam winchester supernatural#supernatural x reader#spn fanfic
29 notes
·
View notes
Text
Pisces new moon tonight. đâïžđŠ
#synchronicity#I thought about posting here but didn't really know what#.5 seconds later I scrolled past this#I wish there was a way for me to explain the magic of this world without sounding crazy#I need proof of everything and got dragged into spirituality kicking and screaming#I have always seen myself as more of a logical person than a creative#the last few years have literally been insanity#relearning everything that I ever knew about myself#pulling it all out and picking out the good pieces#there are things I miss about myself so much#and I am grateful to get those parts back while shedding the things that never felt authentic#I have been meeting myself again a lot lately#the craziest thing to me is how fast the years fly by#i don't sleep anymore#I was doing well with that for a while#but I know all of the work I am doing will mean so much#I basically got put in speed mode in my healing journey#it's crazy to look back only months ago and feel like a whole new human being#the moral of the story is I have no idea what I am doing or what is going on#but something is guiding me#and it is the scariest coolest weirdest most terrifying thing#that's the hardest part to keep inside I think#I have to figure out what to do with all of this knowledge#and I still have no fucking idea#it's going to slap me in the face because that's how they do this shit#and then I will be like omg my whole life makes sense#this has happened more times than I can count#a lot of people wonder how the spiritual people suffer so much if they have all of this knowledge#how the fuck do you think we got that?#I have been to hell and back more times than I can count
6 notes
·
View notes
Note
Thatâs insane Iâve never seen any kind of man except standard human before. Have you met a ghost ever
love that sentence it's very good. i wouldn't say i've met a ghost but i have seen some human-shaped shadowy things... also felt the very distinct sensation of a cat walking on your bed while you're in there a couple times but there was no cat :( and one time my sibling was playing around filming the floor and stuff, and caught something like a white rabbit run past? and we had a white rabbit at the time but he was in his cage up on the table so? ghost rabbit (or probably somehow camera malfunction idk). other than that just the typical children singing/whispers/feeling a touch when there's nothing there
#i sound full on crazy lmao#i don't actually believe in ghosts i think all or most of that stuff can be explained by the brain just misinterpreting circumstances#OR i have actually been having hallucinations without knowing it which i guess is possible especially as a kid#either way it hasn't really bothered me so idc#anon#asks
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
Painful wing fanart incoming but you already knew about it and colored it so like -w- hiding it for the gore and blood tho >>
I feel like it was less gory in black and white but honestly đâš aight donât mind me Iâm going to the tag now
BEHOLD!!! AN ART TRADE!!! @pixlokita it is time!
Caution, do not click read more if you do not intend to read. This is 12,192 words. And no, I'm not kidding. This is so much longer than most of the stuff I write. That being said, enjoy!!!
Evan said Michael was sick, which worried Jeremy. Being sick should not mean Michael would try so hard to avoid Jeremy, especially since he knew it would make Jeremy worry about him more.
But the main part Jeremy was worried about was the way Evanâs new wings kept fluffing up. Was Michael mad at him?
Donât worry about it, Jeremy, he told himself. If Michaelâs mad, heâll tell you eventually.
It just stung. Evan and Gregory were wandering around the house, trying to see if their wings would allow them to do various things. Evanâs were too small to do much, and Gregory still hadnât gotten used to them yet, but at least they had something to do while Mr. Emily tried to figure out what could possibly cause this.
âUgh!â Gregory exclaimed, plopping down on the sofa next to Jeremy. He took the soda from Jeremyâs hand and took a giant sip. âThese things suck.â
âWhat do you mean?â Jeremy asked, unsuccessfully trying to retrieve his Coke.
âI mean,â Gregory scowled, taking another sip, âthat wings are stupid. They donât even bend the way I want them to.â
âWellâŠâ Jeremy said thoughtfully. âThey are just extra limbs, right? With bones and joints and stuff?â
âI guess so.â Gregory finally gave Jeremy his soda back. âBut they donât move how I want-â
âYou couldnât do much when you were a baby right? Learning to crawl?â Jeremy chugged the rest of his Coke before putting the empty can down. âItâs an accomplishment when babies get their heads off the floor on their own, you know. And rolling and stuff.â
âOh.â Gregory clearly hadnât thought about it that way. âBut Evanâs got excellent control already.â
âHeâs had them longer.â Jeremy shrugged. âMaybe heâs just a quick learner. Or maybe, thereâs less wing to work with. Could be a bunch of things.â
âButâŠâ Gregory sighed. He inched closer to Jeremy on the couch, his wings refusing to bend in a natural way.
Jeremy awkwardly looped a comforting arm around Gregory. âYouâll get there eventually.â
âThey just hurt. All the time.â
âI canât help with that,â Jeremy chuckled.
âSure you can! Mike did this thing once, where heâŠâ Gregory chewed his lip. âWell, Iâm not exactly sure what he did.â
âYou want me to pet you?â Jeremy said in disbelief. âNuh uh. Go ask Evan. Thatâs not⊠No.â
âWhyâd you make it weird?â Gregory shook his head. âIt was likeâŠâ
âLike a shoulder massage,â Evan interjected helpfully. His wings flexed, expanding fully as he explained. They barely went past his shoulders, but the point got across.
Jeremy admired the confidence with which he showed them. Heâd personally be too worried about people calling him a freak. Which, thinking about it, was not likely to happen in this house. Everyone was too nice here.
âMikey went like this,â Evan said, pulling Jeremyâs arm back to get to Gregoryâs wings.
Gently, Evan messaged the inner edge of Gregoryâs wings, right where they extended from his back. Gregoryâs wings convulsed, the claw on one nearly hitting Jeremy in the face. âI think they get itchy,â Evan mused. âWe might have to just do this more often.â
âNo kidding,â Gregory said with a sigh, his eyes closing and his shoulders relaxing. âBut Mikeâs still better at it.â
âWonder where he got his practice,â Jeremy replied. He didnât mean to sound bitter, but it still came across that way.
Evan winched, but he didnât comment on it. Instead, he kept focused on his task. Gregory sighed absently. âWings are a lot of work.â
âSeems that way,â Jeremy replied.
Gregory folded and unfolded his hands while Evan worked. âI justâŠâ
Jeremy spared him a glance as he went to get another can of Coke. âSomething on your mind?â
âHis girlfriend,â Evan said absently.
âCassieâs not my girlfriend!â Gregory said, straightening. His wings fluffed up as he said it.
âOh.â Jeremy had no idea what to make of that. âWhat happened to her?â
âI donât know!â Gregory replied. He ran a hand through his hair to try to make it lay flat. âShe was at Evanâs party, and she looked really bad. I think Mike took care of it, but he didnât really say anything about it afterwards.â
âSheâs probably at the hospital, Gregory,â Evan replied, trying to be soothing. âWe can visit her once we figure out what to do about this first.â
âStupid wings,â Gregory grumbled. âMaking everything harder.â
Jeremy didnât know how to reply to that. He cracked the can open and took a sip. âHave you asked Mike?â
âHeâs sick,â Evan answered for Gregory. His wings fluffed up again.
âMaybe we should check on him then. Heâs been resting all week right?â Jeremy asked, trying to be casual about it. Evan had been very guarded about his older brother this whole time.
Jeremy came over every day, and every day, Evan said the same thing. âMikeâs sick. He canât see anyone right now.â
It had been happening since the day Gregoryâs wings had burst through his skin. Jeremy was more than a little concerned. Sure, he hadnât reacted well to the wings at first, but none of them had. Heâd been more supportive when Evanâs had burst through later that same day.
But Michaelâs expression became very guarded for the rest of the day, and the next day, he was âsickâ and couldnât see Jeremy. And Evan was very good at shooing Jeremy away when he tried too hard to see him.
âShouldnât he eat something?â Jeremy asked.
Evan frowned. âMikey told me that thereâs not much he can stomach right now.â
âCrackers always work,â Jeremy mumbled to himself. Shaking his head, he tried again. âWhat about water? Maybe heâll start feeling better with some fluids.â
âI⊠guessâŠâ Evan seemed less sure. Conflicted, he looked at Gregory and then glanced at the closed door to his cousinâs room.
âI can get it. You keep helping Gregory,â Jeremy said quickly. He didnât want Evan to change his mind.
Evan relented, nodding slightly. âOkay. Make sure to get him a big glass. And donât be loud. And-â
âI know how it works when someoneâs sick, thank you.â Jeremy set his Coke down and rushed back to the kitchen to grab a glass.
Evan had not been exaggerating. When Jeremy crept into the room with the glass of water, Michael was curled into a tight ball on the bed.
âMike?â Jeremy whispered into the quiet room.
Michael groaned in response. He rolled over to face Jeremy, exposing the hair plastered to his face with sweat.
âI um.â Jeremy swallowed. He felt a little foolish now. Michael was just literally sick. He wasnât mad at Jeremy or anything like that. âI brought you some water.â
Michael opened his eyes, feebly reaching for the glass.
âAre you strong enough to hold it on your own?â Jeremy asked.
Michael had to consider that for a moment. Then he shook his head.
âHere-â Jeremy sat next to Michael on the bed, helping pull him into an upright position so he could drink the water.
Michael leaned heavily against Jeremy, eagerly drinking the water. Jeremy had to brace himself against the wall to support the extra weight. Then abruptly, Michael pulled away.
âJ⊠Jeremy,â Michael whispered weakly. He gripped at Jeremyâs jacket, burying his face in Jeremyâs shirt. âIâŠâ
âItâs okay, Mike-â
Michael seized in Jeremyâs arms, sobbing heavily. His hold got tighter and tighter as his body shuddered with pain. Jeremy tried to set the glass on the bedside table, but he barely had it on the edge and water soaked into the carpet as he pulled Michael the rest of the way into his lap. âI got you,â Jeremy said into Michaelâs hair.
âIt hurts,â Michael cried, still shaking.
âYouâll get through this,â Jeremy mumbled.
A tearing noise broke through the sound of Michaelâs sobs, even as they intensified. âJEREMY!!!â Michael wailed.
âI have you, Mike. Itâs okay. Youâll be okay.â
Dimly, Jeremy registered the large wings erupting from Michaelâs back. Oh. Oh. This was happening now. Bloody feathers spread out, wrapping around Jeremy to return his comforting gesture.
Gradually, Michaelâs crying ceased, and Jeremy was left holding an exhausted teenager with bloody wings. âI am sorry,â Michael whispered, pulling his hands back, the wings retracting slightly. âI did not mean to, uhâŠâ
âItâs okay, Michael.â Jeremy tried to smile at him. He was determined not to squirm in discomfort from all the blood currently soaking into his jacket.
âI⊠should go shower,â Michael said awkwardly.
âYeahâŠâ Jeremy wriggled uncomfortably in his jacket.
âSorry,â Michael said. âI can wash that if you want.â
âItâs not the biggest deal,â Jeremy said.
âIt is if you go home wearing a jacket covered in blood,â Michael replied. âItâs only fair that I clean it, since thatâs my blood.â
That wasnât how Jeremy saw it, but he figured he wasnât getting out of this. âOkay.â
Michael shifted carefully, putting his feet on the carpet. Almost instantly after taking his weight off the bed, he completely lost his balance. His wings flew out, trying to redistribute the weight, but Jeremy didnât realize that as he caught Michael by the waist. Both of them tumbled off the bed, Jeremy hitting the carpet with a soft âoomph.â
âI am sorry. This was not my intent,â Michael said from above Jeremy.
âThey take some getting used to, huh?â Jeremy replied, trying to ignore the heat rising to his face.
It hadnât been much on the bed with Michael clinging to him like a lifeline. But on the floor with Michael on top of him, pinning him to the ground, Jeremy was suddenly aware of how close Michael was to him.
Michael smiled ruefully. âI donât think Iâm strong enough to walk on my own right now. I donât know how Iâm going to wash all this blood off by myself.â
âMaybe your uncle could help?â
âHeâs probably back at the library again,â Michael mused as he crawled off Jeremy.
Evan wouldnât be able to handle it, Jeremy knew that much. And he couldnât ask for Gregoryâs help without alerting Evan to the amount of blood that coated them both.
âDo you want me to help?â Jeremy asked, feeling the heat more intensely in his face. Please say no. He didnât think heâd be able to handle it.
âReally?â Michael chewed his lip, considering it. âI would not want to be a bother⊠But if you are offeringâŠâ
Jeremyâs heart quickened at the prospect. âR-right.â
âHelp me up?â Michael asked.
Jeremy pulled Michael to his feet, unprepared for the wings to wrap around him again. âUm.â
âSorry. I donât have much control over them yet,â Michael replied sheepishly.
âDo they want me to carry you?â Jeremy gauged the idea of carrying Michael to the bathroom. It wasnât the worst idea heâd ever come up with.
âItâd probably be less awkward than walking there like this,â Michael agreed.
âSo Iâm just going toâŠâ Jeremy twisted around in the space the wings allowed him. Michael hissed out a pained breath, but soon he was behind Jeremy. âHow well can you jump?â
Pretty well, apparently. Jeremy barely needed to adjust for the weight of Michael on his own back, hands linked beneath Michaelâs knees. âOkay. Letâs get you taken care of.â
âI am not a child, Jer,â Michael said wearily. Still, he pressed the side of his face into Jeremyâs hair. âI am sorry to be such a burden.â
âYouâre not a burden, Mike. Youâre my friend. Iâm absolutely willing to help you out when youâre in need.â
âMmmmm,â Michael sounded almost mournful. But he didnât argue.
âOkay,â Jeremy said. âSo, Iâm thinking they might need a decent soaking, right? Birds like to be fully submerged when they clean their wings right?â
Michael blinked at him from where he sat on the toilet lid. âWhat are you even saying?â
âThe blood.â
âIt is not dried yet. Not completely anyway.â
âSo what? You were planning to just wing this whole thing, werenât you?â Jeremy shrugged off his jacket.
Michael snorted. âI was planning to shower, Jeremy. But I guess I was planning to wing it, considering how I have wings now.â His wings stretched as he spoke, emphasizing his point. âI just donât have the strength to stand there long enough to wash them off.â
âI-â Jeremy sputtered. Clearing his throat, he tried to skip over the accidental pun heâd made. âJust going to let the water do the work?â
âThatâs the goal.â Michael frowned. âThereâs just a few problems.â
âSuch as?â
âMy shirt isnât going to come off the same way it went on this morning.â
âAre you particularly attached to that shirt?â Jeremy asked.
âNot really. Could try to just-â Michael pulled at the collar of his shirt.
âIâll go grab a pair of scissors,â Jeremy said as Michael pulled experimentally at his shirt again.
He had to be careful walking by the couch, noticing Evan curled up for a nap. Gregory was nowhere in sight.
Returning with the scissors, Jeremy nearly dropped them upon seeing Michael. âWhat happened? I was gone for two minutes!â
Michaelâs shirt was hanging off his body in shreds. When Jeremy looked closer, he could see sharp claws on Michaelâs hands. âIâŠâ Michael shrugged sheepishly. âI thought I could tear the fabric and take it off myself.â
Jeremyâs mouth twitched, but he didnât let himself laugh. âOkay. I donât think you did a very good job of it though.â
âIt seems as though I failedâŠâ
âHere, let me justâŠâ Jeremy carefully reached around Michaelâs head, one knee resting between his legs. It felt strange to be cutting through Michaelâs shirt, but as the fabric gave way, Michael seemed to relax a little more.
Jeremy recalled Gregory and Evan both sitting on the couch as Michael measured the shape they needed cut from their shirts for the wings. Perhaps Michael needed a few of those done as well. Something to keep in mind for later.
âHey, why is there blood all over-â Gregoryâs eyes widened as he peered into the bathroom.
Michael straightened quickly. Jeremy pulled back, hiding the scissors. âHello.â Michael waved awkwardly, his wings stiff and very clearly exposed.
âYou⊠you have them too?â Gregoryâs voice seemed so small.
âYes, it appears as though we will match.â
Gregory swallowed harshly. âI can help. I know how to get blood stains out of fabric.â
âI would really appreciate it. Thank you, Superstar.â Michael beamed at Gregory, who flushed a deep red.
âItâs no big dealâŠâ
âNot to you,â Jeremy said softly. âBut it helps more than you realize. Thank you.â
Gregory opened his mouth to reply, but no words came out. He scratched his neck as his wings fluffed up, finally saying, âIâll be quick. It probably wonât be good if Evan finds out.â
âIt would be best if he did not know how messy the process is,â Michael agreed.
Gregory nodded, smoothing his hair down before hurrying out of the room.
Michael wadded the scraps of his shirt into a ball and tossed it to the floor. âNow that thatâs sortedâŠâ
Jeremy determinedly kept his eyes from wandering as he helped Michael stand. His friend leaned heavily against him for support as he attempted to undo his pants.
Jeremy belatedly realized that the only way this whole thing would work was if the shower ran over both of them. Iâm going to be drenched, he thought sorrowfully as Michael muttered to himself in frustration.
âYou could probably just sit while I wash the blood off,â Jeremy said when Michael finally stood there in his boxers. âSince it would be less exhausting for you.â
Michael blinked. âI suppose you are correct. I should have thought this through more.â
âItâs no big deal, man. Youâre probably dealing with blood loss or whatever.â
âStillâŠâ
âHey, itâs fine. You spend all this time taking care of everybody. Maybe itâs time someone took care of you, right?â
Michael chewed his lip. âI suppose.â
âOkay. Weâll get you cleaned up in no time, Mike.â Jeremy said, smiling supportively. Michael tentatively smiled back.
As it turned out, it was a lot harder to clean up Michael than Jeremy initially thought. He kept twitching away, hissing out noises of pain at Jeremyâs touch.
Michael clenched his fists in his lap. âOkay. Clearly this is not the proper solution.â
âI canât do this when itâs clearly hurting you, Mike. I justâŠâ Jeremy leaned forward to rest his head against the back of Michaelâs.
âThis is nothing. I have endured much worse before.â
âThatâs not as reassuring as you think it is.â
âJeremy.â Michael said calmly, wringing water out of the washcloth. âI am sure it has become clear to you that things are not how they should be. The wings are only one part of it.â
âYeah? What Iâm hearing is that your father is abusive.â Jeremy wearily took the washcloth back, dabbing it gently against the space between Michaelâs wings. At least like that it didnât seem to hurt him.
âWell, not in the way you would think. Actually, I was thinking more of the comparison between growing limbs and losing organs. I think losing organs is still a more painful experience than this.â
âSo you want me to just ignore your pain?â Jeremy asked, trying to decipher Michaelâs meaning.
âI am saying I can handle it. I can be a man about this.â
No one is doubting that, Jeremy thought grimly to himself. âMaybe I canât.â He tentatively rubbed at a clump of blood in the inner edge of Michaelâs wing.
Immediately, it swung at him, throwing him against the sink. Pain flared throughout Jeremyâs entire body as he hit the floor. Faintly he registered that his face was bleeding.
âJeremy?â Michael asked, twisting around. âAre you alright?â
âNnnnngh,â Jeremy groaned. âI donât think I broke anything.â
âI am so sorry. It appears that the wings are more sensitive than I thought.â
âNo kidding.â Jeremy pressed his fingers to his cheek. He was lucky. The clawed joint of Michaelâs wing had hit him just below the eye. Any higher, and he mightâve lost it completely. âNow what?â
âI suppose I should just sit under the water and hope for the best.â
âI think Gregory and Evan mentioned messages working out the soreness. Maybe I could at the very least-â
âI think we should avoid that for now,â Michael replied, his voice sounding stiff. âYou have already been hurt once today.â
âMichael.â Jeremy tried to make his voice sound stern. âI knew the risks when I offered to help. So let me help.â
âFine. Just do not do anything that will put you in danger again.â
âDonât lie about how much it hurts next time,â Jeremy shot back. âStill gotta get all that blood out of your wings, you know.â
Michael clenched his jaw, but he only stared down into his hands. He couldnât face Jeremy with the nasty cut on his face any longer.
Jeremy was lighter after that. He knew that even pressing a little too hard would make the wings spaz, and over the course of the next few hours, he succeeded with minimal interruptions.
Gregory popped in near the end to check on the progress. âHenryâs back. Do you want me to tell him about this?â He gestured at the entirety of the bathroom.
âI believe he should be informed. Please ensure that my brother does not come to investigate before we are done here.â
âAnd maybe grab him a dry set of clothes while youâre at it,â Jeremy said. As an afterthought, he looked at himself. âMaybe grab me something too, if you would.â
Gregory rolled his eyes. âYeah, yeah. How much does it hurt?â
âI suspect that I should be in more pain than I am,â Michael said, considering the question. âBut Jeremy has done an excellent job of making sure the process is less than agonizing.â
âUh, okay?â Gregory shot Jeremy a look.
âI canât hardly touch him without the wings reacting,â Jeremy explained. âNearly lost an eye the first time I did that.â
âSo itâs bad.â
âItâs bad,â Jeremy agreed.
Gregory shot Michael a look loaded with concern, but he gave Jeremy a thumbs up. âIâll ask Henry if he can get you guys some dry clothes. Maybe Iâll just imply that something else is going on in here if Evan asks.â He wiggled his eyebrows in a way that made Jeremyâs face burn.
âGregory-â
But Gregory had already ducked out of the room, laughing quietly to himself. Jeremy sighed, preparing himself for the inevitable glares heâd get from Evan.
Michael sighed softly once Jeremy finally went to smooth out the wings. âThat feels really nice.â
âGlad to hear it,â Jeremy said softly. âI think we got all the blood out.â
âIs it time to turn the water off then?â Michael asked, his eyes closing.
âIâd say so.â Thank goodness, Jeremy thought as he turned the dials back and pressed the tab down. âNow you need to dry off a bit.â
âMmmmmâŠ.â Michael hummed to himself as Jeremy stepped into the tub with a towel and started rubbing Michaelâs head with it.
Michaelâs eyes fluttered open, and he smiled at Jeremy. âYou really do like taking care of me, donât you?â
Jeremy huffed out a sigh. âI wouldnât be here if I didnât, would I?â
âI thought you just stuck around to steal our Coca Cola.â
âThat too. But I do enjoy your company, Mike.â
The smile broke into a full grin as Michael tugged the towel out of Jeremyâs hands. âThat is wonderful news, Jeremy.â
Did he really not know? Jeremy wondered.
Before he had a chance to answer, Henry peered into the bathroom, assessing the pool of water on the floor. He raised a tired eyebrow as he observed the two boys in the bathtub. âI wasnât inclined to believe Gregory before, but seeing it for myselfâŠâ
Jeremyâs face ignited with heat. âI was just helping clean blood from his wings. Nothing else happened, I swear.â
âI was referring to the fact that Michael grew wings. What did you think I meant?â Henryâs eyebrows scrunched, and Michael gave Jeremy a funny look.
âI thought Gregory mightâve said something else,â Jeremy replied, shaking his head. âForget it.â
âAre you alright, Jeremy? You look a bit feverishâŠâ A frown tugged at the corner of Michaelâs mouth.
âIâm going to go grab some more towels. And you two will be wanting a dry set of clothes, wonât you?â
âYeah.â Jeremy nodded quickly.
Henry hummed at them before walking back out of the room.
âI am grateful for both you and Gregory,â Michael said, using the towel to dry the rest of his body. He slowly rose to his feet, finally able to stand on his own.
Jeremy determinedly did not stare. Instead, he wrung water from his hair.
âI would offer you the towel, but I believe it is too wet to be any real help. Seeing as your clothes are also drenched, the best course of action is to wait for Henry to return.â
Jeremy smiled weakly. âYeah, thatâs true.â
Michael stepped out of the tub, hanging the towel back on the rack after he went. Jeremy could admit that the wings looked pretty good on Mike. Heâd been weary of it when heâd first seen the wings on Gregory, and he knew that Gregory was defensive about it now. But maybe seeing him help Michael would help.
âDo you need a bandage for your face?â Michael asked, making eye contact with Jeremy through the mirror above the sink.
âOh, I uh.â Jeremy blinked at him. âIt doesnât⊠Itâs fine.â
âAre you sure?â Michaelâs mouth twitched. âI understand that me being like this must be unpleasant for you, but that does not mean you do not need assistance with that cut.â
Being like this? Was Michael phrasing things like that on purpose? Was he talking about the fact that he was in his boxers or the fact that he had wings? Jeremy crossed his arms before remembering that his shirt was soaked. He uncrossed them and simply said, âThere is no problem. I just donât need a Band-Aid.â
Michael walked back over, and Jeremy tried to take a step back before remembering he was standing in a bathtub. Trapped, Jeremy stood stiffly as Michael ran a thumb over his scratch. Donât flinch, he told himself, but it still stung. The cut was pretty deep.
âYou likely do need a bandage, despite your claim otherwise,â Michael replied. âI can help, if you need assistance.â
Michael gently wiped blood from Jeremyâs face and went in search of medical supplies. It stung when he cleaned the wound, but Jeremy found himself too fascinated by Michaelâs cautious care to really notice. The tiniest furrow in Michaelâs eyebrows appeared when he put the bandage on Jeremyâs face, and his hands lingered on Jeremyâs jaw for just a moment too long.
He almost seemed sad when he stepped back from Jeremy. âAll better. See?â Michael smiled so quickly Jeremy wondered if heâd imagined the pain in Michaelâs eyes.
âY⊠yeah. Um. Thanks.â Jeremy touched the bandage, surprised by how big it was. âI didnât realize the scratch was that big.â
âI still feel terrible for doing that to you. Is there any way I can make it up to you?â Michael asked.
Unable to come up with anything to say other than a request for Michael to kiss him, Jeremy shook his head and turned his attention to Michaelâs wings. âDo they still hurt?â
âNot as much as they did,â Michael flexed them experimentally. Jeremy smiled faintly, recalling that Gregory was having immense difficulty controlling his own wings. Perhaps the size made it easier.
Michael made a face. âIt appears that moving them still hurts, however.â
âEvan mentioned something about messaging the muscles earlier. He was doing it for Gregory.â
Michael brightened. âI suppose I shall have to ask for Evanâs help with that endeavor then. Thank you for the reminder.â
I could do it for you, Jeremy thought desperately. He didnât want to just have to leave after everything. This was the most time heâd spent with Michael before, and the guy was just so chill about everything. But being in the same space as him, watching him interact with his brother and Gregory made him want to stay so much longer. Michael Afton was the most compassionate person Jeremy had ever met, and he wanted to be able to help the man who tried so hard to help everyone else.
It didnât help that Jeremy was also hopelessly in love with him.
As Jeremy opened his mouth to speak, Henry returned with the changes of clothes. Michael turned his attention away from Jeremy to thank Henry and apologize for the water all over the floor, and Jeremy was left to awkwardly collect the pile of bloody clothes on the floor to offer them to Henry.
Henry stared at the rags for a moment, his face paling significantly. âThese were Michaelâs clothes?â
âYes.â Michael was separating the clothes to split between himself and Jeremy, and he was hardly focused on Henry. âI could not find a way to safely remove my shirt without causing more pain, so Jeremy helped me cut it off. I am afraid blood does not come out of denim very easily, so my jeans are also a lost cause.â
Brightening, Michael put a bundle of clothing into Jeremyâs arms. âYou can change in Charlieâs old room.â
âWhy canât you both change in here?â Henry asked, sounding confused.
Pressure built in Jeremyâs throat as he tried to answer that question. It wasnât that he was ashamed of himself. Not by any measure at all. He just knew it was dangerous, what he was. People didnât exactly approve of people like him, after all. Especially not here.
Michael gave Henry a scathing look as tears built up behind Jeremyâs eyes. âMaybe we donât want to change in the same room.â
Henry blinked in surprise, but he glanced between the two boys for a moment before making his exit. Michael patted Jeremyâs shoulder. âI can go to Charlieâs room instead, if you would prefer to change in here.â
Jeremy still couldnât speak, so he just nodded. The gentle way Michael nodded back at him filled his body with a strange warmth. A few moments later, Michael was gone, and Jeremy could finally change out of the sopping wet layers heâd been in this whole time.
Half-way through changing, Jeremy noticed that most of the clothes were baggy and easy to layer over each other. There were almost too many options. A jolt ran through him when he considered that Michael had sorted through the clothes. Either Michael was very particular, or he knew.
Hurriedly, Jeremy finished changing and practically ran to the bedroom where Michael said heâd be changing. He basically flung the door open to a startled Mike, who had jeans on but no shirt. âIs something wrong?â Michael asked.
His wings and hair fluffed up, like heâd been expecting a threat, but his expression was one of concern. Jeremy knew he was shaking, knew he wouldnât be able to speak for a moment, but he stood there and just stared. Why did Michael have to be adorable in everything he did? The way his mouth curled into a frown made half of his mouth seem to vanish, like he was biting on it constantly distracted Jeremy from what he wanted to say.
He let his eyes wander over Michaelâs bare torso as he tried to find the words to speak. The worst of his secrets was surely out already, and if Michael figured out his feelings, it would be less painful than him knowing the other secret.
Fascination over the jagged scar across Michaelâs chest sprouted in his heart. Jeremy had seen it before, of course. Heâd seen it in the bathroom, but heâd been trying not to stare before.
âJeremy?â Michael looked worried now. âAre you alright?â
Maybe Michael didnât know. Maybe he just hadnât grabbed a shirt at all, since they had to be cut specifically for the wings anyway. Jeremy was probably just overreacting. And even if he wasnât, it seemed that Michael wasnât going to bring it up. âUhmm. I just⊠wanted to make sure you were okay.â
Michael relaxed. âIâm quite alright, Jeremy. Iâm not as weak as I was before. The shower certainly helped.â
âYouâre um. Youâre very fluffy right now.â
âAm I?â Michael ran a hand through his hair, feeling where it stuck up all over the place. âOh.â
âYeah.â Jeremy cleared his throat awkwardly. âThanks for talking to Henry back there.â
âIt was nothing.â Michael blinked at him, wings twitching. âGregory did a good job cleaning up.â He gestured at the carpet and the bed.
The bed was made very neatly, corners tucked so much better than Jeremy could do on a good day. There were only faint hints that someone had been bleeding there, and they were only visible because Jeremy was looking for them. âYeah. He certainly did.â
A fond smile crossed Michaelâs face at that. âHeâs so sweet.â
Jeremy didnât really believe that, but he nodded anyway. He didnât want Michael to stop smiling for anything. It was so much better than his frown in every possible way.
âWe should⊠I um. I think we should probably head back to the living room,â Jeremy said awkwardly.
âRight, yes. I suppose it is almost time for you to head home too.â Michael blinked, like he was shaking himself out of a daydream. âOr maybe you could stay for supper?â
Jeremy smiled. âI would love that.â
Evan was awestruck when he saw his brotherâs wings. âTheyâre so big!â
âSoft too,â Jeremy said, trying to encourage Evanâs excitement.
Gregory made a noise in the back of his throat before saying, âYou would know, wouldnât you?â
Jeremy stared at him, mouth opening and closing without words coming out.
âNo softer than yours, Iâm sure,â Michael said, trying to keep the peace. There wasnât even a hint of a blush on his face at Gregoryâs words. Were the jokes just going over his head? Maybe Jeremy was reading too much into it.
Shaking his head, Jeremy plopped down on the couch beside Gregory. âWhat happened to your face?â Gregory asked quietly.
âI wasnât careful enough,â Jeremy answered, glancing at the two brothers as they talked about Michaelâs new wings. âAnd Mikeâs wings pack quite the punch.â
âOh.â Gregoryâs eyes widened with understanding. âThat couldâve been bad.â
âYouâre telling me, kid.â Jeremy shook his head, taking a sip from his can of Coke. âWhat were you and Evan up to today?â
âVideogames mostly,â Gregory replied. âAlthough everything here is so old.â
âOld?â Jeremy wrinkled his nose. âNah, my parents are worse. Youâre probably just picky. A bunch of this stuff is newer than anything my family could afford.â
âYour motorcycle is cool though.â
Jeremy smiled. âIt is pretty cool.â
âCan you take me on it sometime?â
The smile faltered slightly. âUh, I donât know.â
âCâmon, please? All the stuff here is pretty boring, and I know Evan tries to be fun, but you can only play the same game for so long before itâs lame. And I donât want to have to tell him itâs lame. Itâs awful when he cries.â
Jeremy didnât know what to make of that. âMaybe we could play a board game or something.â
âI wanna go on your bike sometime.â Gregory stuck out his chin stubbornly. âOr Iâm going to tell Mike you have the biggest crush on him and-â
âOkay, okay! I get it. But youâll have to wear a helmet,â Jeremy said, looking away and tugging at his shirt. âAnd long pants. Just in case.â
âOkay, Dad.â Gregory rolled his eyes.
âWell, youâre the one who said itâs awful when Evan cries,â Jeremy shot back. âAnd Iâve already seen how Mike cries, and I donât want to see that again. No thanks.â
Gregory flinched at that. âIâŠâ
âNot to frighten you, but it can be dangerous.â Jeremy sighed. âThereâs only so much you can be safe. Not to quote my mom, but âIâd rather you be late than dead.â Itâs just that kind of thing.â
Seeing Gregoryâs expression, he softened. âIâm a firm believer in the fact that both of us are going to get lectured by Michael when he finds out. So, when he tries, weâre going to tell him that I already told you all the risks and you still wanted to do it. Unless Iâve changed your mind.â
âNo, havenât changed my mind.â Gregory scooted closer to Jeremy. âI bet Iâd survive a crash better than you.â
âNo way,â Jeremy laughed. âWith the way youâre built? No offense, but youâd be a splatter on the cement.â
âRude.â Gregory scoffed. Not subtly at all, he tried to steal Jeremyâs Coke from his hand.
Amused, Jeremy let him. Gregory immediately started downing what was left in the can. At that moment, Michael glanced over and gasped. âGregory! Is that Coke? Are you encouraging this, Jeremy?â
âHe took the can out of my hand. I didnât do anything,â Jeremy smiled cheekily. âNot my fault heâs so fast.â
âMmmmm,â Gregory squinted skeptically at the can. âThis is Coke?â
âYeah?â Jeremy looked confused. âWhy? Does it taste weird to you or something?â
âItâs better than I remember.â
Michael sighed, removing the can from Gregoryâs hands. âThat is because Coca-Cola has different flavoring in it than you remember.â
âAre you talking about the whole cocaine in Coke thing? Because I thought that was a myth.â
Michael shot Jeremy an exasperated look. âThat is not what I am talking about. Anyway, Gregory does not need caffeine in his system at this time of day. He wonât get any sleep at this rate.â
âWhoops?â Jeremy held his hands up in surrender. âLook I-â
âIt does not matter.â Michael shot Gregory a meaningful look. âSo long as he doesnât keep Evan up with his extra energy, it should be fine.â
Evan peered at them all from behind the sofa. âHow did he even take it from you? I thought you kept a tight grip on those at all times.â
âCaught me by surprise?â Jeremy shifted his weight as Michael gave him a skeptical look. âHeâs faster than he looks, I swear.â
Evan snorted, climbing over the back of the sofa, much to Michaelâs despair as he said, âWell, that gives him a one-up in physical games I guess.â
âHey, whatâs that supposed to mean? I totally crush at Fazblock!â Gregory crossed his arms. âI had more blocks than you did.â
âGregory, youâre supposed to get rid of the blocks, not keep them on the screen.â Evan shook his head despairingly. âI wouldâve explained the rules if youâd asked-â
âIt was different than what Iâm used to, okay?â Gregory rolled his eyes. âI could totally beat you at Fazzy Kart.â
âI donât even know what that is,â Evan replied. âI still think you made it up.â
âDid not.â
âDid too.â
âDid not.â
âDid too!â
âOkay, that is enough.â Michael shook his head, smiling faintly. âGregory did not make it up. Fazzy Kart just has not come out yet.â He ruffled Evanâs hair before walking away with the empty Coke can. âAnd I have something for you two to do when I get back!â
âA task?â Gregory asked.
âA task.â Evan snorted. âAh yes, my brother typically assigns me tasks. No, Gregory. Heâs sending us to do chores or something. Usually heâs more mean about it though.â
âNo one understands my jokes.â Gregoryâs wing twitched irritably.
âDoesnât matter,â Jeremy replied. âHe still laughed, even if he didnât get it. Be nonsensical! Nobody cares as long as youâre funny.â
âThatâs a terrible line of logic. I refuse to believe that people willingly follow your example,â Michael said, returning with a sheet of paper. âEvan, Gregory, I am trusting you two to find everything on this list and bring it back here.â
âWe donât have money,â Gregory said, but he still took the list from Michaelâs hands. âAnd arenât we supposed to stay inside until we figure out what to do about our wings? And wait, is it safe to-â
âYou worry too much, Gregory. We can just ask Uncle Henry for help.â Evan peered at the grocery list. âWhat are you making, Mikey? This looks like spaghetti sauce, but you donât use half this stuff normally.â
âWait and see,â Michael said cryptically. His own wings twitched as he spoke, even seeming a tiny bit ruffled.
âWith the overabundance of clothes Henry seems to have, maybe he has jackets you can just throw on over the wings or something,â Jeremy said, slowly rising from the couch as Gregory and Evan stood to examine the list closer.
âWe can handle this,â Evan said with full confidence. âAnd weâll try to be fast so you can get started sooner.â
âThank you, Evan.â There was a deeper tone of relief in Michaelâs voice at that. âMy heroes.â
Jeremy smiled wearily at them all. âI should probably get going.â It felt like intruding to stay this long. Sure, they all tried to include him, but Michael probably had other things he planned to do while Evan and Gregory were gone. Perhaps he needed to talk to his uncle more or something. Regardless, Jeremy had overstayed his welcome.
âI thought you said you could stay for supper.â Michael sounded wounded. âAre you feeling alright? Do you need to lie down?â
He pressed his hand against Jeremyâs forehead. âYou donât seem to have a fever.â
âIâm fine, Michael. I just donât want to overstay my welcome, you know?â Jeremy ducked away from Michaelâs hand and kept his gaze on the carpet. âEspecially if youâre all going to be busy.â
âI wonât be busy until they get back,â Michael replied as Gregory tugged on Evanâs shirt to lead him away. âAnd even then, I wonât be too busy to talk. You can sit with me in the kitchen while I cook.â
âYeah butâŠâ Jeremy hesitated, combing a hand through his hair. âLook, I just donât want to be in the way.â
âYou wonât be,â Michael insisted. He sat down on the sofa where Gregory had been sitting before. Patting the cushion next to him, he waited for Jeremy to sit back down.
When Jeremy sat down, Michael gestured for him to scoot closer. âWhat are you doing?â Jeremy asked nervously.
âYour hair is a mess,â Michael replied. âIâm going to fix it for you.â
âWhat do you mean?â Jeremy frowned, patting his hair self-consciously.
âItâs all tangled. Thatâs going to be a nightmare to brush out tomorrow if you donât take care of it tonight.â
âOh.â Jeremy looked away. âIt shouldnât be your responsibility-â
âMy wings shouldnât have been yours,â Michael countered. âLet me do a nice thing for you. Please.â
âI helped with your wings because I wanted to spend time with you. Not because it was a burden, Mike.â
âThis isnât a burden to me either. Let me help. Maybe I want to spend more time with you too.â
Jeremy didnât have a counter to that, so he reluctantly sighed. âJust⊠be gentle on it, okay?â
âOf course.â He blinked, seemingly surprised that Jeremy gave in so easily. âI do need to go grab a brush and a comb.â
âNaturally.â Jeremy shifted uncomfortably on the sofa as Michael got up.
What was he even supposed to say to Michael? He hadnât expected to get this far, and now faced with the opportunity to have a casual conversation with him, Jeremy panicked.
When Michael got back, the hair brush he carried had long strands of dark brown hair in it, and both the brush and the comb were shining with water. âI hope you donât mind,â Michael said awkwardly. âBut I know that hair gets really, really tangled, so I just wanted to make sure I could get the tangles out without hurting you.â
Oh. That was⊠surprisingly considerate. âAnd the water is supposed to fix tangles?â
âBetter than a dry brush.â
Jeremy just stared. The most heâd been able to do with his hair was to throw it into the worldâs worst ponytail when he needed it out of his face. All this talk of the more effective way to brush through his hair without making it hurt stirred something in his chest. There was nothing Michael would do that could possibly hurt more than the way he was currently doing his hair.
Michael sat back down and got to work. It was strange. Jeremy hadnât had anyone brush his hair in a long time. His mother had been too busy with work to even notice that he needed help with his hair. Or anything really.
âYou have really thick hair,â Michael mused softly.
âYeah. Makes it a real pain sometimes,â Jeremy replied.
Michael was so gentle with it, apologizing softly when the brush scraped his ear or a snag was too rough. Eventually, though, he set the brush aside and started dividing his hair.
âWhat are you doing?â
âHelping you with your hair,â Michael replied as he started braiding it. âI assume you donât have a hair brush for yourself, or maybe you just donât have much time to do your hair every day. But at the very least, braiding it back at night prevents most tangles from getting worse.â
âHow do you know so much about this stuff, dude?â Jeremy wondered. âLike, you know more about this than I do.â
âIâŠâ Michael hesitated. âEvanâs not my only sibling. I had a sister. Elizabeth. Her hair was more of a nightmare than this.â
âOh.â Jeremy fidgeted. He didnât know what to do with that information.
âAnd, there!â Michael twisted a ponytail into the end of Jeremyâs hair. âLess problems for later, see?â
âYeah.â Jeremy touched a hand to the braid, smiling softly. âThanks, man.â
âItâs nothing.â
âBut I say it is something. Come here, Mike.â
Michaelâs wings fluffed up ever so slightly, but he did as Jeremy asked, unprepared for the tackle-hug Jeremy gave him. He gasped in alarm as they ended up on the floor, but when he looked up at Jeremy, it was with what Jeremy could only describe as adoration. Then he was suddenly pressed completely up against Michael as his wings wrapped around them both.
Of course, that was also the moment Evan and Gregory came back from their shopping trip with the supplies Michael had asked for. Letting Jeremy up, Michael immediately accepted the groceries from Evan and went straight to the kitchen. Gregory and Evan were left staring at Jeremy, who was sitting with a ridiculous grin on his face.
âMight need some help preparing this!â Michael called.
Before any of them could move toward the door, however, Henry walked by to go help Michael. Which left Jeremy to get teased by the two younger boys.
âWhat was that about?â Evan asked, picking a long blue feather out of Jeremyâs hair.
âWhat were you doing on the floor?â Gregory asked.
âMike did my hair,â Jeremy replied, gesturing at the hairbrush that now had long strands of gold intertwined with the brown.
Evan looked thoughtful as he fiddled with the feather. âI didnât know Mikey knew how to do hair.â
âDidnât you tell me you had a sister?â Gregory asked, picking a smaller, brown feather from Jeremyâs shirt. âHe couldâve done her hair once or twice.â
âMaybeâŠâ Evan didnât sound very sure. âMikey wasnât⊠I donât know. Maybe he did. I never knew, though.â
âHe did mention it when I askedâŠâ Jeremy said, suddenly embarrassed to know more than Evan.
Evan fiddled with the feather more. âHe seems to like you a lot.â
âMike?â Jeremy asked, even more embarrassed now.
âYeah. He smiles when he talks to you.â
âExcept that one day,â Gregory interrupted. âHe came inside and cried.â
âThat was something else, I think,â Evan responded. âI think the Nightmares finally got to him.â
âSo I take it Mike doesnât usually talk about his issues then?â
âNot usually.â Evan squirmed, his wings puffing up. âCan we talk about something else?â
âYeah sure,â Jeremy shook his head and finally got off the floor. âDo you want to try playing Kings in the Corner again?â
âUgh, thatâs so boring,â Gregory replied, but Evan was already rushing off to get the cards.
âI need a second. Iâll be right back,â Jeremy said, slipping into the kitchen to grab another can of Coke.
Michael glanced over from where he was cutting an onion and just sighed. âJeremy-â
âI know, I know. Itâs bad for me or whatever. But I need it, okay?â Jeremy took a long swig from the can. âBetter than some habits.â
âStillâŠâ
âItâs fine dude. Cut your onion or whatever.â
Henry said something that Jeremy didnât catch as he rushed back to the living room. âOkay, are we ready to start?â
âThis game is stupid,â Gregory grumbled. He was holding his seven cards, and Evan had already laid out the board.
âI dealt, so Gregory goes first,â Evan replied, ignoring Gregoryâs comment.
âLucky,â Jeremy said, eyeing the board.
âI donât even know how to play,â Gregory complained. âThis game is for old people.â
âI guess weâre old then.â Jeremyâs eyes twinkled. âYou have to play a card from your hand onto one of those four cards.â He pointed at the two of diamonds, the king of spades, the four of diamonds, and the seven of diamonds respectively. âYou want it to be a lower rank, or less points than the card on the stack. And itâs gotta be the opposite color.â
âOh.â Gregory stared at his hand for a moment.
âYou gotta tell him about the kings, Jeremy.â Evan shook his head. âIf thereâs a king, you can move it into the spaces between the four other cards, and put a new foundation card down.â
âHuh.â Gregory frowned. âThis is too confusing.â
âIt really isnât,â Jeremy laughed, taking another sip from his Coke. âIf you really want, you can add your cards back to the foundation pile and watch me and Evan play a game.â
âIâm just going to do that.â Gregory stuck his cards back in the bigger stack.
âSuits donât matter,â Evan said helpfully. âOnly color does.â
Jeremy set off to move the king, and the game begun. Evan went out on his first turn.
âOkay, that was a bad example,â Evan said with a grin.
âYou didnât shuffle very well,â Jeremy said accusingly. Â âThat was- arghhh. Weâre playing another game so Gregory can actually see how the game works.â
âAre we doing points?â Evan said innocently.
âWe will once Gregory joins in,â Jeremy replied, collecting the cards from the board. âThese are warm-up rounds.â
âRiiiiight,â Gregory replied with an amused snort. âYou just got destroyed.â
âThank you for the obvious and accurate commentary, Gregory.â Jeremy rolled his eyes.
When he flipped the four cards over, three of them were kings. Jeremy let out an indignant noise as Gregory burst out laughing and Evan grinned at the board. Just like that, he was down to one card. Jeremy scowled at his own cards as it became his turn.
âAll four kings on the board in the first turn,â he grumbled.
âNow whoâs bad at shuffling?â Evan replied, watching Jeremyâs hand drop to three cards.
âOh, shut up.â
Evan snickered as it became his turn. âI almost wonder if you were trying to let me win.â He took the ace of diamonds and placed it on the two of clubs that Jeremy had missed during his turn. âDo you have the hang of it yet, Gregory? We may need a third player or this are going to be some very quick games.â
âHa ha.â Jeremy said as Evan gathered up the cards again. âIâm just used to people who arenât paying attention nearly as much as you do.â
âIâm just playing the game,â Evan said with a cheeky grin. âYou had a six of spades in your hand? You couldâve played that on the seven-â
âI donât want to hear it!â Jeremy sighed, exaggerating his grief as he drank from his can. âYou have eyes like a hawk.â
Evan just hummed at that, his eyes twinkling as he shuffled the cards again. âWhat do you say, Gregory? Want to try and give it another shot?â
âSure. Canât be any worse than Jeremy, right?â
âAlright, I get it.â Jeremy shook his head. âI guess this game isnât as awful as you want to claim it is, huh?â
âWeâll see.â
Evan pulled out a baggy filled with little red chips and shook it for a moment. âI didnât have a chance to grab paper, so we can just play with chips, right?â
âLetâs give Gregory one trial run first,â Jeremy said as Gregory stared blankly at the chip bag. âLet him get a feel for the game.â
Gregoryâs first round went okay. He managed to play half his cards in the first go, but he failed to notice that he couldâve moved the king to the corner right away, and Jeremy took advantage of that. Humming to himself, Jeremy quickly went through his turn and waited for Evan.
âThat is absurd,â Gregory said, watching Evan put down cards and move piles around rapidly. âThereâs no way youâre not cheating.â
âItâs all natural, Gregory,â Evan said cheerfully. âYouâre just mad because Iâm better at games than you are.â
âGrrrrrrâŠ.â Gregory scowled as Evan tapped his own card against the table. He put down his one card and waited for Jeremy to go.
Adding another person really did slow down the game a lot, Jeremy thought to himself. This was the first round someone had actually had to draw a card. Evan hummed, but he also needed to draw a card. Unlike Jeremy, however, Evan couldnât play his. Finally, the game was even again.
Gregory scowled at his cards. âWhat do I do if I canât play?â
âDraw,â Jeremy said. âWeâve both done it.â
Grumbling, Gregory drew a card. He brightened as he realized he could play it, and then it was Jeremyâs turn. Jeremy sighed in relief as he was able to play a card on Gregoryâs queen, and then move a ten on top of that. Moment of truth, he thought to himself as Evan studied his hand. Michaelâs brother shook his head and drew another card. And promptly played it.
Gregory and Jeremy both groaned at that. âSee, but now things get interesting,â Evan said cheerfully. âWeâve all been drawing cards and actually have to pay attention to the board.â
âDonât you always have to pay attention to the board?â Gregory asked as he drew another card. âUgh.â
âDepends on how close,â Jeremy said smugly, laying down his one card. âI win this round.â
Evan sighed wearily, but he said nothing as Jeremy collected the cards to shove them at Gregory. âYour turn to shuffle.â
Gregory pushed the cards back at Jeremy. âI donât know how.â
âI guess I can do it for you. But youâre still dealing, alright? Seven cards to each of us.â
Gregory nodded as Jeremy shuffled, and Evan quickly explained how chips worked. Everyone put one chip in at the beginning. Then, when you drew a card, youâd put another chip in. Each card at the end of the game still in your hand was another chip, except for kings. Kings were ten chips.
They all put one chip in the middle as Gregory passed out cards.
âReady for your first real round, Gregory?â Jeremy asked, looking over his cards.
Gregory huffed, but he nodded anyway. âThis is still dumb.â
âWhat if we made it a bit more fun?â Evan asked. âIâll put in this feather.â He held up the blue feather heâd picked out of Jeremyâs hair.
âWeâre playing for feathers?â Gregory asked. âBut we both have feathers.â
âNot just any feathers. Michaelâs feathers. I know him better than you do, trust me. He wouldnât just give those away.â
Gregory considered it for a moment as Jeremy bit his lip. It seemed plenty easy to get feathers in his opinion. Michael shed two of them while Jeremy hugged him before. âDeal. Iâll put in this one.â
Gregory set the brown feather on top of the three chips. Evan did the same with the blue feather. Both of them glanced at Jeremy expectantly.
âI donât have any. You both took those from me in the first place.â Jeremy rolled his eyes. The feathers were cool, though.
He kind of wished he had some of his own, maybe to braid through his hair or something. But that required winning this game. And since Evan was really good at Kings in the Corner, and also used all the chips in the box, it was really unlikely that heâd win them at the end.
âHow aboutâŠâ Jeremy put twenty more chips in the pot. âI know it doesnât balance out at all, but you two seem to really want those feathers.â
Evan grinned, and so, the game began.
Gregory surprised them all by nearly going out in his first turn, but Evan still won the first game. They played in relative silence, too busy concentrating to hold a proper conversation. Evan crushed them in the first few rounds, but Gregory eventually got a win when Evan had 6 cards in his hand, resulting in a somewhat decent counter-balance.
It did nothing for Jeremy though. He looked nervously at his dwindling pile of chips every time the game ended and knew it was very unlikely that heâd win. It wasnât impossible, sure, but it was incredibly unlikely.
âThis is eight, Gregory,â Evan said absently, after Jeremy had already played his first turn. âWe can play it, but you should pay better attention.â
Jeremy bit his lip at that. He was losing really bad. He really needed a win, and he needed one where the other two were struggling. Accidentally starting a round on eight cards was not a great way to start that.
âHow did you even notice that?â Gregory asked.
âEight feels thicker than seven.â
âHow much do you play cards? Jeez,â Jeremy asked as it became Gregoryâs turn.
âEnough,â Evan said with an amused smile. âI usually play alone.â
âThis doesnât feel like a game you can play alone,â Gregory muttered.
âYou can. Itâs just not as fun. But I donât play this,â Evan said as Jeremy had to draw yet again. âI play Solitare.â
âRight, silly me.â Gregory shook his head. âDude, how are you losing the game you suggested?â
âIt takes a lot of luck, Gregory.â Jeremy sighed, having emptied his can of Coke long ago. âIâve already accepted my fate. Now itâs just a matter of wondering who wins overall.â
They all fell quiet again as they settled back into their concentration. A few tense rounds went by as they all drew cards. When Evan finally played a card, Jeremy breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe heâd last another round.
Or⊠maybe not. It was a close thing, that balance between drawing and playing. âAre we going to go through the whole deck?â Gregory eventually wondered.
âMaybe,â Jeremy replied wearily.
The pot was massive at this point. Evanâs brow was continuously furrowed, and even his wings were stiff with concentration. Thereâs no strategy that trumps the good cards being at the bottom of the deck, Jeremy thought to himself with grim amusement.
âHa!â Gregory shouted his delight as he finally laid his last card.
Jeremy sighed sorrowfully as he glanced at his four chips. He would only have two left for another game after this. If only it had been Jeremy whoâd drawn the card to end the game.
âI donât even remember who shuffled that one,â Jeremy said as Gregory gathered the pot.
âIt was Gregory. He started us with eight cards,â Evan replied. âYou shuffle next.â
âIâm not going to make it through this game,â Jeremy muttered.
âThen weâll just play it out, and you can be done after,â Evan shrugged. âWho knows, maybe youâll win?â
âFor every draw you have that you canât play, Iâll put in a chip,â Gregory offered as Jeremy put his last chip in the pot. âItâll keep things fair.â
âIâm sure,â Jeremy muttered.
âAwww, you are a grumpy old man. Evan look! Heâs so grumpy.â
Jeremy rolled his eyes. âThanks.â
Evan put his last card down, and Jeremy shook his head. âIâm out. Good luck, Gregory.â
He wondered what Michael and Henry were up to in the kitchen. It had been two hours of this, after all. Surely preparing a meal wouldnât take that long, especially since Evan implied Michael was making spaghetti.
âOkay, I gotta know. What spaghetti takes three hours to make?â Jeremy said, sitting down at the kitchen table with Henry.
âItâs not the spaghetti that takes so long,â Michael replied from the stove. âItâs the sauce.â
âBut why?â
âThe flavor has to soak in from the leaves.â Michael shrugged, moving to sit down with them. âWhat were you playing in there?â
âCards.â Jeremy shrugged. âGregory said it was for old people.â
âThen he must have never played cards before,â Henry commented.
âMaybe itâs his age,â Michael suggested.
âNah. Your brother got really into it. Heâs been beating both of us.â
âTHATâS SO STUPID!!!â Gregory shouted from the other room.
Evan laughed and said something in response, as they all glanced toward the hallway.
âNo way,â Gregory said, his voice still projecting from the other room. âThatâs so stupid!â
âI think the sauce is about done,â Michael said, rising from his seat again. âI should probably begin on the actual spaghetti.â
âI appreciate you deciding to cook for us, Michael,â Henry said. âAnd not that Iâm complaining about your food, but this seems more complicated than some of the other stuff youâve made.â
Michael just blinked at him, filling a pot with water. âItâs just spaghetti.â
Gregory and Evan walked into the kitchen and sat down at the table. âIt smells great in here,â Evan said.
Michael glanced at his brother and at Gregory for a moment. âWho won?â
âEvan,â Gregory grumbled crossing his arms. âBut he cheats.â
âI do not! Withholding cards on my turn is within the rules of the game. Just because it means you have to draw more doesnât mean itâs cheating!â Evan argued.
âHeâs right, Gregory. If heâs withholding cards, itâs still a risk to him since you can easily draw a card at any moment and win the game yourself. Thereâs a reason itâs ten chips if youâre holding a king at the end of the game.â
âHmph,â Gregory scowled.
âJeremy, do you need a new bandage for your face?â Henry asked as Gregory and Evan glared at each other from across the table.
âWhat? Oh, Iâm sure itâs fine.â Jeremy hadnât realized that the edge of his bandage was peeling off.
âWeâll get that taken care of later,â Henry said. âWere you planning on staying over tonight?â
âIâŠâ Jeremy glanced around the room. âI donât know.â
âIf you decide to stay, let me know so I can tell your parents,â Henry replied, seemingly satisfied. âAnd would you like another can of Coca-Cola?â
âYes please.â
âDonât encourage his addiction, Henry.â Michael crossed his arms as he leaned against the counter.
Jeremy responded by sticking his tongue out at Michael. Michael shook his head and rolled his eyes, but Jeremy saw a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
âCan I have one too?â Gregory asked.
âAbsolutely not,â Michael replied. His wings twitched slightly. âYouâre done with caffeine for the rest of the night. If youâre this loud after half a can, I shudder to think of what would happen if you got a full can of Coke.â
âYouâre not my mom,â Gregory grumbled.
Jeremyâs mouth twitched. âHe tries to act like it though, doesnât he?â
Michael made an indignant noise as Gregory burst out laughing. Evan giggled too, adding, âMama bird Mike.â
All three of them broke into bad laughing fits at that one. Henry and Michael just exchanged an exasperated look as Michael stirred the spaghetti. âI can act like it if you really want me to,â Michael eventually said. âBut I donât think youâd like the response, seeing as you two are baby birds in this analogy.â
âWhat do you mean?â Gregory asked, bewildered.
âI think what heâs getting at,â Jeremy said, amusement glinting in his eye, âis that mother birds regurgitate food into their chicks mouths.â
âEwwwww,â Gregory gagged.
Evan snorted. âMikey wouldnât do that.â
âWouldnât I?â Michael raised an eyebrow. âIâve certainly done worse.â
Evan froze at that. He seemed to be considering Michaelâs point. âHe totally wouldâŠâ Evan sounded horrified.
âAnd with that terrible mental image, it seems that the spaghetti is done!â Henry said, putting a can of Coke in front of Jeremy before going to fetch everyone plates.
âI just need to strain the noodles, and weâre all set,â Michael said. âCould you grab the strainer please?â
Henry nodded and retrieved the strainer. Evan hummed to himself as he fiddled with the two feathers heâd won in the card game. Gregory said nothing, but Jeremy could tell it he was still bitter from his loss. Surely Michael wouldnât be unwilling to give up feathers if they asked, Jeremy thought to himself. Maybe heâd be uncomfortable with the idea, but if Gregory said how much he really wanted them, Jeremy was sure Michael would give in eventually.
âItâs going to be hot.â Michael warned, carrying the pot of spaghetti to the table.
Henry quickly placed a potholder beneath it, and Michael went back to retrieve the sauce for the spaghetti. âDo you want to get cups out, Evan?â
Evan nodded and got up from his spot. âGregory, you can get the plates.â
The whole group cycled around the kitchen like a little family, and Jeremy felt a little self-conscious about his place in everything, so he went and grabbed forks for everyone. It was the least he could do.
Michael dished out the food, putting just enough sauce on their spaghetti that they could avoid it if they wanted to. All of them were a little skeptical of the meal, but they all trusted that Michael knew what he was doing. Gregory and Evan both seemed startled by the taste, but Henry simply raised an eyebrow as he took a bite. Michael didnât seem particularly concerned about their reaction, though.
He was too busy observing Jeremy when he tried it.
It was⊠spicier than he expected. Jeremy glanced at Michael, suddenly suspicious of him. Michael blinked at him, casually taking a bite of his own spaghetti. Jeremy glanced at him again before moving his plate to the saucepan full of spaghetti sauce and adding more to his plate.
Michaelâs slow smile made Jeremy feel even more confident about his decision. Somehow, Michael had figured him out yet again, almost without effort. Jeremy stuck another forkful in his mouth and smiled back at him.
âGregory, slow down. Youâre going to make yourself sick,â Evan said.
âItâf, fine.â Gregory swallowed hard.
âCareful you donât choke,â Henry said warningly.
Gregory set his fork down quietly, his eyes watering. He coughed a little bit, causing Michael to turn to him with concern. âGregory? Are you alright?â
Gregory fanned himself, and Jeremy immediately figured out what was going on. âToo spicy for you? You barely had any!â He shook his head and poured Gregory a glass of milk. âDrink this. Itâll help.â
Gregory eagerly took the glass, draining it in less than a minute. âMmmmm.â
The rest of the meal went in relative silence, with Evan and Henry occasionally teasing Gregory for eating too fast and being unable to handle spicy food. Michael seemed oblivious to the main conversation, smiling softly to himself.
Jeremy knew he was staring, but he figured it wouldnât be the biggest deal. Plenty of people stared at their friends, right? At the way they twisted spaghetti noodles onto their forks and brought their forks to their mouths. At the way their eyes glowed with joy at making something new successfully.
Michael caught his eye, and the smile widened. Jeremy felt himself smiling back easily. Heâd already finished his food, and Evan and Gregory had finished half the spaghetti by themselves. There wouldnât be many leftovers anyway.
Henry was the first to move from the table. He collected plates from everyone to take to the sink. When Michael moved to help, Henry waved him off, insisting that since Michael made the meal, he shouldnât have to clean it up, with a meaningful look toward Evan and Gregory. He stopped Jeremy when he tried to get up too, insisting that guests shouldnât need to help.
âBut I thought we were guests,â Gregory grumbled when Evan tapped his arm to help him get up.
âJeremy, that bandage really does need to be changed before you go,â Henry said quietly, gathering the leftovers into different containers.
âI can help him with it,â Michael said.
âMichael, youâve done enough today. Especially with how you were feeling this morning-â
âI can help,â Michael interjected stubbornly.
Jeremy raised a confused eyebrow at the way Michaelâs wings and hair ruffled.
âYou need rest,â Henry said in a tone that brokered no argument.
Still, Michael persisted, the feathers now completely refusing to lay flat. Jeremy wondered how this could possibly be something heâd need to be so defensive about. âHey, maybe Henryâs right. You have done a lot today.â
Michael scowled at that, and he grabbed Jeremyâs arm and practically dragged him out of his chair.
âWhat- Hey!â Jeremy stumbled into Micheal, expecting him to apologize or something.
âThereâs the old Mike,â Evan mumbled quietly.
Michaelâs face was right in front of Jeremyâs as he spoke. âI know my limits.â
âDo you?â Gregory challenged. He didnât seem frightened in the slightest, which was very different from the atmosphere surrounding Michael at that moment. âTo me it seems like you keep going until you drop. Maybe you should just get rid of that chip on your shoulder and let someone else handle it for once!â
âLike you did?â Michael snapped, and at that, Gregory actually flinched. âSometimes, you canât trust that help will come, Gregory. You should know that better than anyone.â
Gregoryâs grip on the plate in his hands tightened. âYeah, well, I didnât have a family who took care of me like you do! So just suck it up.â Jeremy heard tears behind those words, and Evan mumbled something gently to him and tried to get him to turn his back on Michael.
That seemed to break something in Michaelâs resilience. His wings twitched, and he let go of Jeremyâs shirt. âRight. Sorry.â He sounded just as torn as Gregory. âIâŠâ
Jeremy figured nothing would be helped by Michael sticking around in the kitchen, so he tentatively put a hand to Michaelâs shoulder. âHey, you can help with my bandage. Maybe just tell me how to put it on so I do it right tomorrow morning, yeah?â
âSo you arenât staying then?â Henry asked, looking worriedly between the four boys.
Michaelâs ashen expression was not particularly reassuring. âNo, I mean. If itâs okay for me to stay, I plan to. I just⊠Maybe it should be my responsibility to fix that?â Jeremy gestured at the scratch on his face. âSeems like all Iâm doing here is making more messes anyway. Might as well try to clean one up myself, right?â
Henry frowned but he said nothing.
Jeremy leaned close to Michaelâs ear. âCome on then.â
âI didnât mean to⊠I hurt his feelings,â Michael mumbled as he mechanically peeled the rest of the bandage away from Jeremyâs face to wipe at the scratch with a wet cloth.
âEnergy was running high. Maybe you are a bit more overwhelmed then you thought? Frayed nerves break way for anger sometimes. Or so Iâve heard.â
âI still shouldnât have done that.â Michael couldnât even look Jeremy in the eye. He was too distraught.
âWhy did you get so defensive, if you donât mind me asking? And Iâm not just talking about Gregory. You were adamant about helping me with my bandage.â
âI justâŠâ Michael hesitated. âI havenât had a chance to see you in days, and I wanted to get every moment I could?â
âAn afternoon together wasnât enough?â Jeremy teased, even though he knew exactly how Michael was feeling. âLook, thatâs okay, Mike. But you gotta take care of yourself too.â
âYeah, but-â
âWhat do you want? I know you think you have to help everybody all the time, but youâve gotta have desires too, right?â
âMaybe I donât deserve to have my desires realized,â Michael replied. He still wasnât looking at Jeremy. âMaybe Iâm just a rotten person who doesnât deserve joy or anything that doesnât directly benefit anybody else.â
âMichael Afton.â Jeremy said, trying to sound stern. âYou are a human being just like everyone else. We all make mistakes. And you sound like youâre trying to atone for yours. I donât know about you, but someone who tries to learn from their mistakes sounds like someone who deserves to have what they want every now and again.â
Michael completely froze at that. When he met Jeremyâs eyes, he looked utterly shattered. âIâŠâ He swallowed. âI canât do this anymore.â
âThatâs okay, Mike. No one is asking you to do everything-â
âNo, you donât understand.â His voice was hardly a whisper. âIâve⊠That scolding⊠Youâve said that to me before.â
âI have?â
Michael nodded mutely. âIt was right beforeâŠâ His wings stretched their full length as Michael squeezed his eyes shut. âI canât.â
âWhat canât you do, Michael?â Jeremy asked softly.
A pained noise rumbled in Michaelâs throat, and he dropped the cloth, yanking Jeremy forward by his shirt. Their mouths crashed together, and all Jeremy could think was finally. His own hands went behind Michaelâs shoulders, and he gently guided the wings back into a folded position before stroking them gently.
He didnât want to stop kissing Michael. It was freeing and exhilarating at the same time. Michael tasted like bubble gum and smelled like clean laundry. He was the weirdest man Jeremy had ever met, but maybe that was what made him so alluring. Or maybe it was something else. Something about all this just seemed so⊠right.
When Michael broke away, Jeremy tried to follow. Michael looked at him fondly and laughed. âI thought you said I needed to take care of myself.â
âI canât be that addicting,â Jeremy said impulsively.
Michael snorted. âI need air, Jeremy. We were both going to pass out if we kept that up.â
âCan we do it again?â Jeremy didnât care about air. He just wanted to be close to Michael, wanted to make him smile, wanted to make him laugh.
Michael laughed again, a brilliant sound, before Jeremy pressed their lips back together. It was completely perfect.
#cloud#fnaf#mild body horror#winged Gregory AU#first of all tumblr broke when i read thru this which was hilarious xD#AND YEAH I COUKDNT SLEEP WITHOUT READING IT AT LEAST ONCE#this honestly made my week go by so fast :v in a good way >> every time you sent the little pieces of it =w=#itâs so dang good âšâšâšâšđ thereâs so much to love about it and hopefully tumblr letâs me go apeshit crazy in the tags pls pls pls#so first of all idk why but the moment you described the hairbrush having both Jeremyâs and mikeâs hair mixed together it was ? idk why tha#just was so sweet like⊠idk man ? idk what that means it just feels deep and meaningful and I love it#uhhh Jeremyâs cocacola addiction xD and Gregory taking advantage of it gghghhh#Evan being good at games is also the best let him win always and forever please#the pasta also sounded so good =w= canât even blame Gregory sometimes spice canât stop you even when your body is screaming and on fire if#the food is too dang good >> may he rest in pieces đ#ah dude now I see what you meant for that whole confrontation thing Michael really hurt him :c#he didnât mean to imply that and he probably forgot about his situation but come onnnnn#he better go back and apologize or Iâll kick his ass personally >> Iâll kick it anyway how DARE you make your one and only son cry >:v#-w- he got his kiss but god at what cost#HGHGHGH#thatâs fine itâs fine itâs fine itâs fine yâknow what theyâll all have a sleep over theyâll get to talk and they will work thru this and ge#0 sleep because theyâll play more card games right after until 5 am ⊠6 am .#actually also loved that you hinted at Jeremyâs insecurities without having to explain too much about it the poor guy is having a hard time#specially in the 80âs hhh but itâs ok Jeremy you get cocacola and happy times đ„ș and awkward little kids interactions xD children are scary#Henry needs a break AGAHVSHS I JUST REALIZED WILLIAM JUST PROBABLY NOPED OUT OR DOESNT RVEN KNOW WHATS HAPPENING LMAOOOOO heâs too busy ig#doing his evil peepaw things and okay yeah fair just donât be surprised when everyone in your fam is suddenly like supernatural#wing massage sounds kinda stressful I would be terrified to break a bone by accident then again?? how strong are these ones ?#maybe theyâre not built like bird wings :0c well they are dangerous apparently >> which :> heck yeah đ«¶#actually scratch what I said earlier they stay up all night because Michael canât sleep with the wings twilight sparkle style đ no control#ughghgh still feeling sad for the little gremlin boy being hurt like that#oh woops reached the dang tag limit ⊠take me to jail boys đ I loved this sm đ
455 notes
·
View notes
Text
NOBODYâS BUSINESS âč luke castellan
part one
( summary ) social media au where lukeâs sudden spike in confidence turns a few heads, including the head of your ex who just loves to jump in other peopleâs business
( pairing ) luke castellan x fem aphrodite counsellor!reader , mentions of ex bf! hephaestus camper x reader
( notes ) this feels a bit rushed bcs iâm sick rn but i hope you guys enjoy anyway!!
â« American Teenager by Ethel Cain
⥠liked by maxwalsh , silenabeauregard , and others
yourusername proof that percy doesnât actually hate luke
seaweedbrain hey girlie!!! can you take this down like immediately?? not to sound to mean or anything but i can and will find you đ
yourusername youâre such a cutie perce
seaweedbrain kys
sarahdawson totally wasnât held at gunpoint for that last pic guys no need to worry
connorstroll we werenât worrying but thanks anyway ig
sarahdawson sleep with one eye open.
lukecastellan 2/10 post
yourusername sorry for messing with your tough guy image đ
lukecastellan actually it only loses points bcs thereâs no pics of you
chrisrodriguez WOAHHHHHHH
sarahdawson HIS BALLS FINALLY DROPPED
clarisselarue bit sad to know they werenât completely crushed after the red team kicked their ass icl
yourusername oh trust they were all whining about it the second i put away the camera
clarisselarue good.
GROUPCHAT â chbâs finest
clarisselarue: y/n what is max doing in your likesâŠ
sarahdawson: HES WHAT
sarahdawson: oh heâs brave
yourusername: IDK HE JUST APPEARED
yourusername: like a bug
seaweedbrain: or a rat
yourusername: that too
lukecastellan: heâs on his way for training with me rn so iâll go extra hard on him
silenabeauregard: homoerotic subtext goes crazy
yourusername: thanks luke but really you donât need to do that
yourusername: like iâm over him now and i just want to forget about him altogether
lukecastellan: he deserves a hard time for what he did to you anyway
lukecastellan: you deserve way better than that
lukecastellan: i mean anyone would
seaweedbrain: great save bro
lukecastellan removed seaweedbrain.
sarahdawson: oh you took that one personally
DIRECT MESSAGES
clarisselarue: ok when did you get game
lukecastellan: idk what youâre talking about
clarisselarue: oh please spare me iâve had to watch you make googoo eyes for the past two years you canât lie youâre way out of this one
lukecastellan: seriously idk what youâre talking about clarisse
clairsselarue: ok fine whatever but HYPOTHETICALLY if you were to try anything with my girl i want you to know that i approve but trust if you go a toe out of line then you will be dealt with
read.
â« My Love Mine All Mine by Mitski
⥠liked by drewtanaka, hazellevesque , and others
[ tagged: sarahdawson ]
yourusername youâre the only thing iâll ever thank a man for
yourusername thanks max
this comment was deleted.
sarahdawson I SAW THAT COMMENT GIRL THAT WAS BRAVE
drewtanaka surprised sar isnât screaming for photo creds for the second slide
sarahdawson bcs i didnât take itâŠâŠ..
silenabeauregard WOAH WHAT
pipermclean yourusername hey sis can we have a chat please
yourusername nope iâm doing cabin checks rn #counsellorissues
wisegirll iâm doing cabin checks rn though???
silenabeauregard the plot thickens
lukecastellan glad to see you listened to my advice
yourusername felt bad keeping my beauty from everyone
lukecastellan it was a rough time without it
groverunderwood chrisrodriguez now THESE are moves
chrisrodriguez LOOK AT MY BOY GO gods is this what normal parents feel when their kids go to college
maxwalsh nice earrings
this comment was deleted.
seaweedbrain we all saw that comment rightâŠ
clarisselarue yes.
DIRECT MESSAGES
maxwalsh: hey can we please talk
yourusername: no
maxwalsh: please babe cmon you didnât even hear me out
yourusername: because you tried to kiss sarah you fucking asshole
maxwalsh: no it wasnât like that you donât get it
maxwalsh: look can you just meet me by our old spot and i can explain everything
yourusername: no
maxwalsh: babe youâre not acting like yourself
yourusername: bcs itâs not her, sheâs asleep rn and sheâs not your âbabeâ
maxwalsh: who tf is this???
yourusername: doesnât matter
yourusername blocked maxwalsh.
lukecastellan posted to their story!
SARAHDAWSON replied to your story
sarahdawson: WOAHWOAHWOAHWOAH SLOW YOUR ROLL WHAT
CLAIRSSELARUE replied to your story
clairsselarue: âidk what youâre talking abt clarisseâ oh i hate you so bad
SILENABEAUREGARD replied to your story
silenabeauregard: iâd know that silhouette anywhereâŠ
CHRISRODRIGUEZ replied to your story
chrisrodriguez: iâm a bit hurt i wasnât told in depth about this before but iâm too proud to pay attention to it GOOD FOR YOU MAN
MAXWALSH replied to your story
maxwalsh: so it was you who had her phone the other day
maxwalsh: wtf man
lukecastellan: womp womp
lukecastellan: you snooze you lose and you lost big time
â« Nobodyâs Business by Rihanna, Chris Brown
⥠liked by jasongrace , racheledare , and others
[ tagged: yourusername ]
lukecastellan and it ainât what??
yourusername AND IT AINâT NOBODYâS BUSINESS
clarisselarue ok edward cullen why are you eating her neck like that
silenabeauregard everyone i took the hammock pic thank me please đđ
yourusername thank you beautiful angel
seaweedbrain cute i guessâŠâŠ.
chrisrodriguez I ALWAYS HAD FAITH IN YOU BRO EVEN WHEN EVERYONE ELSE THOUGHT YOU WERE A LOSER WITH NO GAME, I STAYED ROOTING FOR YOU
lukecastellan appreciate you bro
lukecastellan wait people said that about me???
wisegirll my favs đđ«¶
yourusername AWE ILY ANNIE
seaweedbrain oh iâm just dirt to you then? chill.
wisegirll youâre so dramatic percy
seaweedbrain oh so mental health matters until IâM the one hurt? cool.
lukecastellan and yâall were saying i had no game
seaweedbrain okay luke see thatâs just not funny because your dad literally dances on a revolving stage for a living
lukecastellan had to bring out the dad jokes because you know iâm right?
seaweedbrain why is your old age pension ass beefing with me instead of talking to ur girlfriend⊠weird behaviour
sarahdawson too cute i fear
sarahdawson but you i must remind you mr castellan, i made it onto her feed first. you will ALWAYS be second to me. always.
drewtanaka anyone else hear weeping from the hephaestus cabinâŠ
leovaldez itâs really depressing
leovaldez i think he just punched a hole in the wall
cbeckendorf he did
pipermclean LMAO WHAT A FUCKING LOSER đđâ ïžâ ïž
( taglist ) @perseus-jackass @harrysnovia
#charlie bushnell x reader#luke castellan x aphrodite!reader#luke castellan x you#luke castellan x reader#luke castellan#percy jackson and the olympians x reader#percy jackson x reader#percy jackon and the olympians#pjo x reader
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
breed || alexia putellas x reader ||
your talk with alexia about starting a family takes a turn.
minors dni, 18+, smut warning.
you had never been attracted to anybody like you were alexia. everything the woman did drove you crazy. you thought that after a while, new things would stop giving you such a strong reaction. for a while, you had gotten used to how hot alexia was, and then you saw her and the baby.
it was the child of an old family friend, you remembered alexia explaining it to you. the baby was cute, but alexia looked so happy and natural playing with him. you knew that children flocked to your girlfriend, but you had never really thought about watching her with the kids.
"i don't want to give you up. i can't wait until you're bigger and can spend weekends with your tia ale," alexia said as she handed the baby back. it had been a torturous hour and a half watching her play with the baby. you had never seen alexia with such a deep look of longing before.
"i think we should talk." your heart was racing. alexia was quick to pull you into her lap before you could start pacing around the living room.
"then we can talk. tell me about what is on your mind. let me try to help you," alexia muttered as she pressed kisses all over the side of your face. she was careful not to give you too many, knowing that you needed a little affection to be forthcoming.
"i think that we should have a baby," you told her. alexia smiled as she turned your face towards her.
"say it again."
"i want us to have a baby together," you said. alexia leaned down and pressed a very excited and very sloppy kiss to your lips. you laughed into the second kiss, but by the fourth one both of your moods had shifted. the arousal that you had felt earlier in the day as you thought about alexia fucking a child into you.
"what else is on your mind, mi amor?" alexia's voice was low and sensual. she could tell by the flush on your cheeks that you wanted her just as badly. alexia could always tell with you, which was just one of the many reasons that alexia loved being with you. "what could you possibly be thinking about that could be turning you on like this?"
"i want you to fuck me, alexia. i want you to try and put a baby into me," you told her. alexia scooped you up into her arms and brought you back to the bedroom. you felt light as a feather as she tossed you onto the bed. alexia stripped herself of her clothes as she made her way over to her dresser. you thought that you knew what she was reaching for, but you had never seen the dildo that she turned around with. "what is that?"
"a surprise," alexia said. she pressed a couple of quick kisses to your lips. she wanted you to chase after her, and you were never one to refuse alexia something that she really wanted. you wanted more from her, and alexia rewarded your forwardness by giving you deeper kisses.
you were practically drunk from the taste of her on your tongue. your nerves were on the edge, and each brush of her skin against yours pulled some sort of reaction. alexia's favorites were always the little hitches of your breath or the whines when she did something you particularly liked.
"ale, please," you begged. she was teasing you, moving slower than what she really wanted to.
"you sound so pretty begging for me like that. i'm practically throbbing thinking about how you'll sound begging for my cum," alexia whispered in your ear. she grabbed onto your hips and helped you grind against her.
alexia was no stranger to touching you. she knew your body like the back of her hand. alexia had you dripping onto her fingers from the moment that she pushed your underwear to the side. they were ruined, and alexia would feel no qualms about tearing them in half when she was ready to push her cock inside of you.
alexia slid into you with ease. she had been deliberate in riling you up as much as she could without ruining the moment. alexia didn't want you to feel like you had to act out to get pleasure tonight. alexia wanted this to be just as good for you as it was going to be for her. the baby talk hadn't come as a surprise, but getting to break out her new toy was.
"you take my cock so well. i can't wait to see my cum dripping out of you," alexia told you. she held your body tightly against hers as she thrust into you. you were no stranger to being fucked from on top of alexia, it was one of her favorite positions. she loved to watch your body bounce as you rode her cock. alexia swore that just the sight of you riding her was enough to make her cum, but the friction from the way that you both moved was an added benefit.
"ale, fill me up, please," you begged her. you were getting close, each of alexia's thrusts pushing you closer and closer to the edge. you grabbed onto alexia's body and buried your face into the crook of her neck. you rocked your hips as you pushed yourself through your first orgasm.
"just a little more." alexia held your body against hers as she started to fuck you again. this time, she moved slower and deeper. each of her thrusts were intentional, hitting all of the spots inside of you that she knew would make you cum again.
the feeling as alexia pulled out of you was foreign. she looked smug as she stared in between your legs. you tried to sit up and get a look, but alexia blocked you. she swiped her fingers over your entrance and brought them up to show you what she had done.
"i can't get you pregnant, but i'll cum in you every night you let me," alexia told you. she quickly got herself out of the harness before laying back down with you. it wasn't ideal for you, but alexia cleaned you up with some wipes and gave you something to drink. all you wanted was to lay down and sleep off your post-sex brain haze, but alexia kept you awake until she had gone through her mental post-sex checklist.
#woso x reader#woso fanfics#woso imagine#woso smut#minors dni#minors do not interact#alexia putellas smut#alexia putellas imagine#alexia putellas x reader
803 notes
·
View notes
Text
Impatient || L.DH
PAIRING âž Lee Donghyuck x fem!reader
GENRES âž smut
WARNINGS/CONTENT âž profanity, clingy and whiny Hyuck, oral (f), groping, fingering, unprotected sex (don't be reckless pls..), jealous hyuck, multiple orgasms, creampie, nothing TOOOOO crazy tbh
SUMMARY âžYour boyfriend Donghyuck just wants you all to himself.
WORD COUNTâž2k
A/N: This has legit been in my drafts since last year and I just finished it now. Wanted to release something before Die 4 You since I sadly won't have time to make any Halloween fic this year </3 please know this is not proofread so ignore mistakes, PLEASE...
âAlright, just let me know if you come up with any other ideas for the project. Iâll start my assigned section right away. Bye Jisung.â You sigh, quickly hanging up the phone without hesitation.
You love Jisung, you really do... but sometimes he really gets on your nerves. Both of you had decided to be partners for a project, and if you knew he was so clueless about every little thing maybe you shouldâve just partnered up with Jaemin instead.
You huff, visibly irritated at the number of times Jisung has called you for instructions or help within the past hour, nearly screaming when you get another call from him not even a minute after you had just hung up.
Donghyuck laughs from beside you, the sound barely audible due to his face being buried into your side. âJisung. Heâs so cute.â your boyfriend mumbles sarcastically, smiling when you raise your voice at the poor boy on the phone.
You hang up once again, letting out a sound of exasperation.
âDon't get too mad Y/n, you know thatâs just how he is,â Donghyuck whispers, pulling you closer into him as he caresses your side.
âYouâre awfully touchy today. Whatâs up?â
âHm?â he hums, nuzzling his face closer to your side as his wandering hand finds place on your stomach. âI just love my girlfriend.â He sighs, continuing his ministrations.
Youâre suspicious but continue typing away on your laptop while trying your best to ignore Donghyuckâs suggestive touching.
âI swear to god,â you mutter, staring at your phone as another incoming call from Jisung appears on the screen. âI donât know how much longer I can take this.â
âThen ignore it.â
Your boyfriendâs voice takes you by surprise. âWhat?â
âI said ignore it. Heâs been interrupting my sweet time with my girlfriend. Heâll be fine on his own for a while.â
You laugh, the seriousness of his statement slipping past your mind. âSweet time with your girlfriend is watching me do my project? Cute.â Smiling, you run your fingers through his hair a few times before resuming to type at your laptop, unknowingly annoying Donghyuck.
He huffs but you donât seem to notice, too busy talking with Jisung on the phone, explaining something Donghyuck couldnât care less about. He would get your attention sooner or later, he was sure of it.
His soft touches against your skin turn more suggestive within the next few minutes. You donât mention it to him out loud, but he knows that you noticed.
His fingers dance across your thighs, grabbing and squeezing at them before you place your hand on top of his, stopping his mischievous actions. âHyuck. What are you doing?â You whisper, making sure your mouth is far away from the speaker of your phone where Jisung was still on the line.
âIâm tired of waiting for you to be done. Why donât you just cut it short for the day? Hm?â He doesnât let you answer, getting up from his position so he can slot himself in between your legs.
Mouthing ânoâ and âstopâ aggressively at him doesnât work, his wandering hands already trying to slither under the bottom of your shorts. âStop!â you whisper-yell, gaze demanding and stern.
Donghyuck simply ignores you, continuing to massage your inner thighs as he makes his way higher and higher.Â
You try to ignore him and carry on with the conversation with Jisung, a surprised gasp leaving your lips when he shifts your shorts and panties to the side, licking a fat stripe up your pussy.
âTake these off for me baby. Mâ gonna make you cum so hard for me.â Thereâs no shamefulness in his words and he says it loud and clear, the younger man on the phone pausing to ensure he heard that correctly.
âAre you sure youâre home alone?... I swear I just heard-â
âYup! All alone!â You exclaim, accidentally drawing out your words to avoid moaning out. You bite your lip painfully hard, trying to conceal the sounds that were threatening to leave your mouth as your boyfriend continues to play with your cunt. He thumbs away at your clit, soft tongue placing kitten licks teasingly on your core as you shiver.
Giving in, you allow him to remove your shorts and panties, wasting no time to immediately bury his face in between your legs. âJisung,â you breathe out, âI might have to call you back laterâŠâ
The boy on the line sighs, whining, âBut Y/n, itâs an emergency and I need your help.â You could practically see the pout on his face through the phone, a sigh of annoyance and pleasure leaving your lips.
âFuckâŠâ you whimper, hips bucking up into Hyuckâs mouth as he continues to devour you, his tongue fucking inside of you as he thumbs at your clit.
âIâll see what I can do.â
âThanks Y/n! Iâll be waiting for your call.â Jisung doesnât wait for your response, hanging up almost immediately after he finishes his sentence, which was more than great for you.
Donghyuck seems to take that as his cue to speed things up, his tongue abusing your clit at a much faster rate. Your free hand searches for something to hold onto as your phone clatters onto the floor, legs wrapping around your boyfriendâs head to hold him in place as your back arches off the bed.
âOh my god. HyuckâŠâ Youâre not able to protest much, his tongue too busy licking up everything you have to offer. You moan loudly, voice louder than you had intended.
Donghyuck chuckles before quickly replacing his tongue with a finger, tongue licking at your swollen clit as he, plunges his index finger as deep as it will go into your tightness before pulling out and repeating the action.
The sensation of having his tongue against your entrance as he fucked you was overwhelming, a gasp leaving your lips as you found yourself getting closer and closer to your orgasm. âYes Hyuck⊠yesâŠâ You whimper, hips jerking up into his face as you cum on his tongue, his finger still fucking your pussy at a relentless pace.
You call out his name over and over again as he licks up everything you give him, face soaked in your cum as he looks up at you with a shit-eating grin.
âHey, I was trying to finish up my work so we could fuck later,â you whine, pouting at the boy as he stands up. He licks his lips, smirking as he licks away at your juices before wrapping his arms around your waist.
âI was trying my best to be a good boy,â he muses, lifting your hips up from the bed as you wrap your legs around his waist. âBut the more you denied my advances, the harder I became.â He continues, kissing your collarbone.
âThatâs not fair, baby,â you breathe out, biting your lip. âI was just trying to get him off the phone, you know that." He hums, not bothering to reply as his lips immediately find yours again. Your hands fumble with his shirt, tugging it off of him as his tongue dances into your mouth.
He was much more aggressive than usual, and if you didnât know any better, youâd say that he was being a little bit needy. Though you kind of wanted to tease him, you couldnât keep the grin from crossing your lips as he kissed you deeply, hands roaming your body as you moaned into his mouth.
âGod⊠I missed youâŠâ you whisper, biting down on his bottom lip lightly as he pushes your back down onto the mattress softly.
âI think I can let this pass since youâve missed me so much,â he muses, climbing on top of you as he grinds his cock against your soaked pussy. âYouâve been teasing me all day.â
âI have not,â you protest, gasping as he grinds against you once more.
âYouâve been working and not paying attention to me.â
You laugh, rolling your eyes. âFirst of all, Iâm working on my biggest project to date. Second of all, youâre the one whoâs been teasing me.â Your breath hitches as his cock, still clothed in his jeans, grinds against your clit.
âThatâs because I want you so bad.â
âYou know you donât need an excuse to touch me, right?â you point out, hips swaying as you try to push yourself further into his cock.
âYou can touch me as much as you want.â Donghyuck chuckles, slipping his hand down between your bodies to unbutton his pants.
âMhmm,â the boy hums, licking his lips hungrily as he watches you. He wastes no time in taking his cock out of his boxers, the end of it damp with pre-cum. âI think itâs better if I just show you how much I want you.â
Donghyuck wastes no more time, thumbing the head of his cock as he brings it down and slides the wet tip against your entrance. He looks you in the eyes before pulling back and thrusting in fully, the thickness of his cock nearly making you scream.
âO-Oh my godâŠâ The boy lets out a deep moan, thrusting into you again and again in a quick, steady rhythm. The feeling of his cock sliding inside of you is enough to make you let out a high-pitched whine, hands searching for anything to hold onto as he pounds into you.
You grip onto the sheets, bodies colliding as the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room. âYouâre so tight,â he mumbles, thrusting into you harder. His hips grind against yours, pelvis pressing against your clit and sending pleasure rippling through your body.
âDonghyuckâŠâ You moan out, a fire building in your stomach as he fucks you into the mattress.
âYouâre so fucking hotâŠâ The boy breathes out, thrusting into you deeper. His cock slides in and out of you, tongue licking your neck as he pumps into you harder. âI canât hold back anymore, baby...â he groans, hips jerking against your own as he pants into your neck.
âFuck don't stopâŠâ Your breathing hitches, shoulders tensing up as he thrusts into you at a quick, steady pace. You feel yourself getting closer to your orgasm, his cock sliding in and out of you.
âCome on, Y/nâŠâ He breathes out, thrusting into you with more force. âCum for me.â His fingers dig into your thighs, nails scraping at your skin. âC-Come on baby-â His voice tenses, urging you on as his thrusts quicken. âCum, Y/n.â Your back arches off of the bed as you're sent over the edge, an orgasm tearing through your body.
âOh my god, DonghyuckâŠ.â You moan out, hips bucking up into his as he pumps into you with more force. You feel him twitch inside of you, letting out a deep moan as he fills you up with his cum.
With a groan, Huck pulls out, smiling proudly at the mess he had made of you.
You could feel his cum seeping out of your pussy and down your thighs, an audible gasp leaving your lips as you let your head fall back onto the sheets. Donghyuck pants into your neck, pulling out of you as he wraps his arms around your waist.
"Can't believe all of that was because of that nerd Jisung. Didn't know he bothered you that much babe." You conclude, your boyfriend smirking down at you in return.
As you lay panting on your bed, naked as you stare at the ceiling with your arms spread out against the bed, your phone goes off again, and you're immediately reminded of why you were so irritated in the first place.
#haechan#lee donghyuck#lee haechan#nct haechan#nct haechan smut#haechan smut#nct 127 smut#nct dream smut#kpop smut#kpop boy group smut#boy group smut#nct#nct 127#nct dream#nct u#nct u smut#wayv#haechan fic#lee haechan fic#haechan x reader#nct fanfic#nct smut#ihaechans#dom haechan
2K notes
·
View notes
Note
Pls pls something about emily engstler where the reader ( they can be friends at the beginning) keeps staring at her tattoos especially on her hands and emily catches her
Tattoos . EE
pairing: emily engstler x reader
A/N: iâm thinking letâs stay home pt 2 next??
àŒ¶âąââàšâĄà§âââąàŒ¶
âwhatâre you staring for?â a familiar voice sounded from across the couch. it was so sultry, so smooth. you couldnât help that your body was drawn to it instantly.
it was a normal day, you and your girlfriend tucked away in the comfort of your home for the weekend. she had had a rough week of intense practice and you had a draining week of work, so the both of you decided to take some time to relax. but it was a dangerous game for you, emily within your reach at all times. she was practically irresistible and you found yourself gawking at her nearly every chance you got.
she was quite literally the hottest person on the planet in your eyes. her hair, her body, her lips, her eyesâŠeverything about her made you crazy. but your favorite thing about her, that made you want to pounce on her at any given moment, are her tattoos. you really couldnât explain it, why you were so drawn to them. the intricate designs that littered her skin just had some sort of grasp on you, had you drooling like a teen girl over her high school crush. you would squeeze your thighs together in desperation as youâd watch her hand run down her face, ink ridden fingers mindlessly tracing the outline of her lips. god the things it did to you. how her muscles would flex when youâd watch her work out, your eyes glued to the way the tattoos moved with them. everything she did, youâd be admiring the beautiful works of art.
emily wasnât quite aware of your fixation with her tattoos. rather she knew you liked them, but clueless to the near obsession you had. she never caught onto the stares or the amount of times youâd trace them with your fingernails when youâd lay in bed at the end of the night. she had always figured youâd liked them just like any normal person would. so you would continue on with your infatuation, let yourself indulge every now and then without her noticing.
until now.
âhm?â you blinked rapidly, shaking yourself out of a daydream.
your legs were draped over hers as you laid horizontally across the couch, your head rested against the cushioned arms of the sofa. emily was running her hands up and down your shins aimlessly, making little imaginary drawing here and there. she was scrolling on her phone to pass the time and you were sat there, just looking. for the past, probably 10 minutes, you sat there watching her. watched how her tatted fingers glided smoothly along your skin. watched how they moved effortlessly. it was hypnotizing to watch, getting lost in the print on her fingers. you couldnât lie, you were getting hot and bothered just thinking about those fingers.
when you had emerged from your fantasies, finally looking over at emily, she was already staring back at you. her phone now discarded somewhere next to her and her gaze glued to you. her fingers had stopped tracing and she had one eyebrow quirked at you in curiosity.
âyouâve been staring at me for like 10 minutesâ her head tilted to the side, she was so damn cute âeverything ok? is something wrong?â
âmânot staringâ you pursed your lips. now it was your fingers, fiddling senselessly out of nerves. you were too embarrassed to admit that youâd been caught.
she just chuckled, tongue running along her bottom lip. her hand rose up to scratch at the back of her neck in amusement at your poor excuse of a lie.
âcome on, babyâ her eyes still shooting daggers into you, eyelids low but still alluring and intrigued âdonât lie tâmeâ
âiâm not, honest! i donât even know what youâre talking about!â you scoffed playfully, hoping she wouldnât pry any further. but you knew she would. she always did.
âiâm talking about how the whole time weâve been sitting here youâve been eyeing meâ
âi have notâ you emphasized even more.
âoh really?â she said, and you nodded in return. she leaned in closer to you and you watched as her eyes flickered down to your lips and back to your eyes âthen why is it that every time my hand reaches your thigh your breathe catches in your throat?â
if your breathe wasnât hitching when she was touching you, it certainly was now. she looked so divine, practically hovering over you just to tease you like this. you wanted to be mad at her for making you feel so humiliated, but how could you when she was so tempting.
âtalk to me,â her voice lowered to a rasp âyou know exactly what iâm talking aboutâ
unable to handle the heat, already feeling the blush creep onto your face, you sighed in defeat. you bit your lip and squeezed yours eyes shut as you tried to think of the right words to say. how does one say your tattoos make me want to tear off your clothes and take you right here, right now without sounding like a freak?
âitâs embarrassing, emily. donât make me say itâ
âyou donât have to be embarrassed around me, baby, sâokâ she was met with a moment of silence as you groaned in frustration âwhy were you staring?â
âyourâŠâ another sigh fell from your lips, you were at a loss for words âyour tattoosâ
âmy tattoos?â she smirked âwhat about them?â
âtheyâre just so, i donât know, attractive?â your body cringed as you said it. you tried to avoid her gaze to ease the shame you felt, but you couldnât help but catch how her smirk formed into a toothy grin âlikeâŠgod this is so stupidâŠlike they just look so good on you and you look so fucking good all the time. and i just canât stop looking at you, em, iâm sorryâ
with a new found confidence, you continued âyour fingers, just the tattoos on themâŠoh my god emily you have no idea what you do to me. even when youâre just sitting here i canât resist youâ
âwowâ she breathed out, lips curled tauntingly âcanât resist me, huh?â
âshut upâ
âno noâ another laugh fell from her lips. but this time it was soft and relaxed, not seductive to try and coerce some confession out of you âitâs cute, babe. you shouldnât be embarrassedâ
you just rolled your eyes at her, part of you still irritated that you were put in such a position, but another part of you relieved she didnât mind.
emily let her hands fall down to you legs again, palms flat against you. you could feel the slight callousness of her skin. they pressed into the plushness of your thighs gently as they agonizingly crept their way towards you. she kept her eyes on you, eyelashes low, lips slightly parted. your mouth fell dry as her hands approached the bottoms of your shorts. her fingers toyed with the hems, then eventually pushing their way past the loose fabric until she was met with the silky skin of your hip just under your shorts. then, with little warning, she let her head lower down to your neck. her breathe was hot against you as she let her lips attach, kissing along your body. you gasped upon feeling the sudden sensation, your hands flying up to the back of her head in an attempt to brace yourself.
âall this over some tattoos?â she whispered into your neck âbabyâŠyouâre killing meâ
âwill you be quiet and just kiss me?â you blurted, unable to handle the built up tension.
âanything for youâ
and with that, her lips were on yours in an instant. your bodies melting into each other as she showed you just how much she loved you with those damned tattoos.
#wcbb#wcbb x reader#washington mystics#indiana fever#emily engstler#emily engstler x reader#wlw#wlw imagine#lesbian imagine#lesbian#foreingersgod
778 notes
·
View notes
Text
Buckâs eyes jolted open and his heart began to race as something alerted his body and jolted him out from his slumber.
He was momentarily disoriented given that this was the first time he was sleeping in Tommyâs bed and he didnât recognize the feel of the pillows, comforter, or the sight of the dresser across from him.
After a moment of grasping where he was and what was going on, he recognized the distinct sound of Tommy laughing his ass off behind him in the middle of the night.
âDo you mind telling me what you find so funny at 2 in the morning?â Buck groggily asked as he rotated over to face his hysterical boyfriend.
âWhâŠwhat Iâm laughing at?â Tommy asked through the laughter. âAre you saying you donât know?â
âGiven that I was deep in a very heavy REM Cycle, no. Absolutely not,â Buck replied in an annoyed tone. âOur first sleepover is not seeming very romantic right now.â
Tommy let out a few more chuckles and then began to calm his breaths. âReally? I was just thinking the opposite,â Tommy teased playfully. âYour snoring is adorable. Louder than my chopper and my bike combined, but adorable.â
Buck groaned and buried his face in the pillow. âI thought Chris and all of my girlfriends were being over-dramatic.â
âIâm sorry,â Tommy interrupted through a giggle. âChristopher and multiple exes of yours experienced this, and you still had doubt?â
âChris commented on it when I was babysitting him, and kids are dramatic; and my girlfriendsâŠhave also had a history of being dramatic,â Buck explained.
âUh-oh. Iâm dating a âall my exes were crazy guyâ? Thatâs a red flag,â Tommy teased.
âNo, theyâre not,â Buck defended remorsefully. âI just hoped it wouldnât happen here.â
Tommy chuckled at his boyfriend and Buck felt a mildly judgemental gaze his way. âYou thought itâd just be gone by tonight?â
âKinda?â Buck said sheepishly.
There was a lull in the convo, a moment of silence before Tommy wrapped his arms above and below Buck. âCome here.â
Buck let out a minor yelp as he felt himself be pulled closer to his boyfriend. He felt the warmth of Tommyâs bare muscular chest and arms envelop him. âI think your snoring is adorable, Evan, and I will happily suffer through so many sleepless nights as long as it means you get to fall asleep in my arms and I get to wake up next to you in the morning.â
âYou say that now-â
âI do say that now. And Iâll say it again each night until my body wonât let me fall asleep without the sound of you,â Tommy insisted with a confident assurance.
Bucks heart raced and his body instinctively shuddered, and his instinct to roll away was coursing through his whole body.
âEvan? Evan, whatâs wrong?â Tommy asked with concern.
âItâs nothing,â Buck lied as he rolled away from Tommy.
âItâs not nothing,â Tommy countered as he allowed his boyfriend some space. âDid I say something wrong, Evan? Iâd really like to know if I did.â
Buck winced his eyes and took a deep breath. He was thankful that they were laying in the dark and - *click* oh great, there was the nightstand light on Tommyâs side.
âEvan, will you please look at me?â Tommy tenderly inquired.
Buck really didnât want to. He wanted to hide himself under the comforters in embarrassment. He didnât want to be vulnerable right now, but pushing Tommy away wasnât going to help the situation. Tommy deserved better.
He begrudgingly rolled over to face Tommy and Buckâs heart was struck with guilt as he saw the pain and concern painted across Tommyâs face.
âEvan, baby, can you please tell me whatâs wrong?â There was that sweet, genuine sincerity that terrified the hell out of him.
âItâs justâŠyou make all these super sweet promises that sound like youâre gunna be around forever; and we donât know that,â Buck explained.
âSo am I coming on too strong? Do you want me to stop? I donât mean to rush things or put pressure on you-,â Tommy nervously began to explain.
âNo, itâs not too strong. And no, i donât want you to stop. I like it a lot. Too much, actually, and thatâs the problem. Iâm scared at how much I like it and Iâm terrified about getting too used to it in case this all goes south. You sound like youâre promising forever but you canât.â
There was another pause as Tommy began to process everything Buck said. âCan I hold your hand?â Tommy softly asked. Buck gently nodded in response.
Tommy moved his free arm to Buckâs, and entwined their hands together, locking fingers. âEvan,â Tommy began, holding his gaze. âYouâre right. I cant promise forever. I donât think our very first sleepover warrants any ring-talk.â
Buck let out a small chuckle. âYeah, please do not. Thatâs a red flag.â
âFair,â Tommy said playfully. âBut hereâs what I do know. Iâm 39, almost 40. I have no intention of plying the field and Iâm tired of meaningless flings. I get the feeling you are too based on the handful of threats Iâve received about treating you right; which I absolutely plan on doing.â
Buck chuckled at the thought of everyone giving Tommy the âIf you hurt him speech.â âWho all gave you the speech?â
âMaddie. Eddie. Bobby, who found it pertinent to remind me that Athena is a police sergeant,â Tommy explained.
âOh my god,â Buck said. âIâm surprised you didnât run on the spot.â
âWell you shouldnât be,â *Tommy said sternly. âI have no intentions of going anywhere. And granted, itâs possible life is going to throw us some shit. But Iâm willing to fight for you, Evan. And as long as both our lives are better with each other in it, then Iâm willing to give this a genuine shot. Iâm ready to put in the effort for this.â
Buck stewed and marinated and contemplated Tommyâs words. âIs that not a sentiment most people have at the start?â
âNo it is not,â Tommy answered matter-of-factly. âEspecially in the gay community. Iâm not saying everyone, but Iâve ran into my fair share of guys only looking for Mr. Right Now. Or a daddy.â
Buck started to laugh heartily at the thought of Tommy being a âdaddyâ. He understood, though. Buck kinda agreed.
âI want off the hamster wheel, Evan. And I will do everything I can to reassure you that I mean it.â
Buck leaned forward and kissed his boyfriend deeply. Tommy wrapped his arms back around Buck and held him tight.
âI donât want to hurt you either, if itâs any consolation,â Buck replied.
âI appreciate that. I donât know if I have another heartbreak in me either. I spent too many years being inauthentic to myself and unhappy. I donât want to waste anymore time of my life.â
âSo weâre in good hands with each other?â Buck asked.
âI think so,â *Tommy said with a soft, warm smile that made Buck feel so safe and happy with it.
âI think so, too,â Buck said as he leaned in for one more kiss. âReady to go back to sleep?â
âI suppose thatâs up to your nose,â *Tommy said playfully as he turned the light off and pulled his boyfriend in close.
496 notes
·
View notes
Text
worship you â sam winchester êŠê· kinktober day nine ; priest kink
cw : gn!afab!reader, smut, softdom!sam, oral (reader receiving), religious metaphors, pet names (baby, honey), 1.5K words. MDNI !!! 18+ ONLY.
sam wonât tell you this nowâheâd barely admit it to himself at firstâbut as he put on that black suit and white collar this morning, he hoped it would turn you on. only, he didnât really think that it would. he figured that, however hot it might be, that sort of thing tends to be overexaggerated in media or online platforms, so he pushed the thought aside in favor of focusing on the case.
then youâd stepped out of the bathroom after brushing your teeth and when your gaze snagged on his cleanly dressed form, you didnât even attempt to hide the way your eyes raked over him. he had thought in the moment that he could get drunk off the way you looked at him alone, surprised and yeah, really damn turned on.Â
but before either of you could get a word in, dean was rushing sam out the door, leaving you to research while they were off to interview witnesses.
the wait was absolutely worth it, because now he has you all to himself, pretty much desperate after several distracted hours of research, during which the only thing you could think of was how hot he looks in that suit.
when he walks through the motel door without dean in tow behind, sam indulges you when you practically throw yourself at him. he catches you easily in his arms, grasping your hips when you run your hands up his chest and kiss him hard. your hold, not gentle at all, smoothes up to the sides of his neck and he feels the stiff clerical collar pressing into his skin.
of course, he kisses back with just as much enthusiasm. heâs had that look on your face from this morning stuck in his head all day, and now heâs ready to see your features contorted with bliss. heâs been thinking far too much about all the ways he could drive you crazy to be considered focused on this case.
he pleases you by softly groaning into your mouth as you push your tongue past his lips, but he doesnât let you take and take for all that long. instead, he pulls away and youâre already short of breath, chasing his lips with yours.
âwait a minute, baby,â he hushes softly, voice a little strained.
âdonât wanna wait,â you protest, trying not to sound whiny but failing a bit, âbeen waiting for you all day.â he holds back a grin at that, running his big hands up and down your sides.
âi know, i know,â he murmurs, âjust⊠just slow down a second.â he tips his head into the crook of your neck, barely ghosting his lips over your skin. âdeanâll be gone a while. weâve got time.â his hot breath tickles your skin and you move a hand to grip his shoulder. sam speaks all soft and reassuring, but you can hear that edge to his voice. youâre not sure why heâs trying to take it slow, and it takes him a minute to figure it out himself.
but when you tangle a hand in his hair and give an unconscious tug at the feeling of his lips pressing sweetly into your neck, he realizes.
âcâmon,â you urge, impatiently slipping a hand under his suit jacket and trying to push it off his shoulder. he stops you immediately, fingers wrapping around your forearm and pulling it away from his body.
he lifts his head to look at you, to take in your expression of sweet desperation. ânot yet,â he scolds gently. sam debates explaining, but sometimes he likes to test your willingness to go along with him.
you want something, anything. there are times where you can be patient, where youâll follow along without a single protest no matter how needy you are, but this is not one of those times. maybe itâs the outfit, the lack of sleep from last night, or the fact that you havenât been able to have sam like this in too long because of hunts. most likely itâs everything working in tandem to make you so impatient.
so you put your all into testing his resolve, pushing his most sensitive buttons. you give his hair a little tug and you see the way it makes his upper lip twitch a bit, like heâs holding back a groan or soft growl. then you shift the arm in his hold to tangle your fingers through his and look at him all soft and sweet and loving. and because you need it so bad, you trail your hand down his torso as you begin to slowly sink to your knees. it feels like you have the right to tease him a little too now.
but he stops you, even when his eyes betray how much he wants this too. he slots a hand under your armpit and effortlessly pulls you right back up.
ânuh-uh,â he shakes his head, then reaches up to brush his thumb over your cheekbone. his voice is surprisingly still soft and sweet as he speaks. clearly, he wants something specific, and other days you mightâve really pushed his patience by now. âcâmon, honey. need you to listen to me right now, promise youâll like it.â that pacifies you. he canât help but smirk at how quickly he sees your body shift in reaction to his words. now, youâre perfectly pliable in his hands and he knows it instantly. âthere we go,â he murmurs, dipping his head back into the curve of your neck.
slowly, he kisses down your neck all while he backs you into the bed. his hands roam, softly palming at your sides, slipping under your shirt and touching your skin like itâs holy. when he pulls your shirt fully off and lays you out on the bed for him, he kisses down your body and praises your beauty like he worships you.
so good for me. youâre so good for me. youâre so beautiful, youâre perfect. always so perfect for me. canât get enough of you, baby.
and then it hits you. thatâs exactly what heâs doing; heâs worshipping you, dressed like a holy man whoâs supposed to be clean and pure in the eyes of god. but youâre his perverted deity and your body is the altar at which he kneels.
then he really is kneeling, just how he knows youâd want to see him, pulling you down to the edge of the bed by your ankles.
âsam,â you gasp, scrambling to sit up so you can see him there. âgod,â you whisper, ready to start begging him to taste you now. you gulp and your chest heaves with breath; youâre sure that the sight of him kneeling between your legs in that crisp suit and white collar will be the last thing you see before you die, because itâs so filthy and clean and perfect all at once that you think it could end you. your thighs tense and your clothed pussy clenches around nothing.
his fingers slip under the waistband of your pants and underwear and he doesnât have to even start tugging before youâre leaning back on your palms and lifting your hips. you know why heâs going so damn slow, with his fingers dragging along the length of your legs, and his eyes taking in the sweet sight of you like youâre the epitome of beauty. you just canât help but squirm a little, absolutely desperate for something more.
âplease, sam,â you pant, your voice a soft whine.
âi know,â he whispers, soothing you with his big, idolizing hands on your thighs.
then finally, heâs leaning forward, bumping your clit with his perfect nose before his flattened tongue swipes up your slit, intent on soaking up every bit of your sweet wetness that he can in just one movement. you moan lowly, desperately, and sam is high off your taste in less than seconds.
sam reveres you with his tongue. heâs agonizingly slow, perfectly dedicated, absolutely faithful to you and your utter pleasure. his moans and murmured praises into your warmth are prayers and the act is a devotion that sam will perform any day. every day, because just sundays would never be enough. every day is a holy day so long as he gets to put his mouth on your begging cunt.
despite how purposeful and slow he is today, heâs still as messy as ever. he slurps at your pussy and suckles on your clit and makes the lewdest sounds that youâve ever heard. he drinks up your pleasured noises like he drinks up your wetness.
you were wrong before, because this is the sight that will kill you. now, his arms are hooked around your thighs to keep you in place as he makes you feels so good that you tremble. and he doesnât look clean, not at all, not anymore. his hair is tousled and roughed up from your hand in his hair, half of his face, from the tip of his nose down to his chin, is covered in a shiny coating of your slick, and that damn collar. in all of his eagerness to eat you out like youâre the only god heâll ever believe in, the collar has come loose, laying crooked against his neck, itâs purity ruined.
sam gives you that small death, your devotee brings you to heaven. when you cum into his mouth, almost embarrassingly fast, sam thinks heâll have to keep the collar on when he fucks you.
TAGLIST
âą SPN; general (all supernatural fics, including nsfw so your age must be 18+ and visible on your blog) : @toadspondofwhimsy ; @mxltifxnd0m ; @bloodysammy ; @angelicjackles ; @ohsc ; @chevroletdean ; @prentissluvr .
⹠kinktober : @this-is-me19 ; @ponygyatt ; @tranquilitybasegrunge ; @anu-piyakya97 ; @yeyrpp2 ; @maeve-24 ; @i-luvsang .
send an ask / dm to be added !
#. >> kinktober '24 !#sam winchester smut#sam winchester x reader#supernatural smut#sam winchester x gn!reader#supernatural#sam winchester fanfiction#sam winchester x y/n#sam winchester suggestive#sam winchester x you#sam winchester#sam winchester drabble#supernatural headcanon#sam winchester supernatural#sam winchester headcanon#supernatural suggestive#spn sam winchester#sam winchester fluff#kinktober
376 notes
·
View notes
Note
OO, how would jouno(you can also add whoever you want but JOUNO HEHZGEZGE i love him sm omg) be w an S/o who is very much stuck in the "crush phase", like giggling, blushing, smiling, hiding their face, and everything
a/n: this is such a cute idea đ”âđ« !! def how iâd act around jouno too like oh my!!!! i also added tecchou cuz how could i not
warnings: none
(Jouno, Tecchou) With a S/O Stuck in the Crush Phase
Jouno
he def acts all annoyed but secretly loves this shit
jouno can already tell that u still get nervous and excited to see him by the sounds of your heartbeat đ
but it warms his heart (something we all thought was impossible) that you arenât ashamed to hide these actions
bro canât even walk by you without u getting all flustered and hiding ur faceâŠwhich is valid bc jouno is very pretty !
but heâll sigh and shake his head, telling u to âstop being dramaticâ đ
^dw he is very much being lighthearted here and doesnât entirely mean that!! jouno is justâŠnot used to this kind of reaction to his presence so it throws him off a bit
the worst is when u do this shit in public đ
^yâall will go to the store together and he leans over u to grab something off a high shelfâŠneedless to say u are blushing and giggling like crazy (I WOULD TOO!!)
jouno gets all embarrassed and is like âSTOP we are in public đâ
which only makes it worse cuz he is so cute when heâs irritated
omfg the other hunting dogs def tease him about this đ tachihara practically follows jouno around asking how he can get ppl to act that way around him too??
but anyway. jouno abuses this power he has over u and purposefully does things to fluster u
^such as standing close to you, giving u random kisses, putting his arm around ur waist etc
may act like he hates it but the man has such a soft spot for u <3
Tecchou
tecchou genuinely does not fully understand how pretty he is nor the effect it has on u
heâs so tallâŠand strongâŠand OBLIVIOUS to how ur practically shaking next to him with how flustered u are
keeps asking if ur ok đ âare you sick, y/n? your face is all redâ
gee i wonder why tecchou
whenever he bends down to kiss u, u get so nervous that you cover ur face with ur hands
he thinks this means u donât want him to kiss u tho and is like âiâm sorry đ„â
youâre quick to explain that itâs just cuz u still get nervous around him!! but he canât really fathom the effect he has on ppl so heâs a bit like ?????
^probably says some shit like âbut iâve literally seen u naked, why are you still nervous around meâ đ«
after awhile tecchou picks up on what is going on and sometimes messes with u to get a reaction
^holds ur face in his hands and just looks at u adoringly before giving u lots of kisses!!! u have to push him away cuz ur blushing so hard
plays it off SO WELL tho like youâd never know heâs doing this shit on purpose
i feel like tecchou was never someone to think much abt his physical appearance or how other ppl perceive him in that way, so ur reactions make him feel something new đ„č
#bsd x reader#bsd x y/n#bsd x you#bsd hunting dogs#jouno hcs#jouno x y/n#jouno x reader#tecchou x you#tecchou x y/n#tecchou x reader#bsd tecchou#jouno bsd#jouno saigiku#tecchou suehiro#jouno x you#tecchou hcs#bsd hcs#bsd imagines#bsd scenarios#hunting dogs bsd
292 notes
·
View notes
Text
đđ«đđČđąđ§đ đšđ§ đđšđź đđšđ§đąđ đĄđ đđđ«đ đ
part v - heart ripped, soul devoured
đđđąđ«đąđ§đ : dark alpha!Steve Rogers x naive omega!Reader
đđđ«đ§đąđ§đ đŹ: smut, major angst, extremely dark themes, a/b/o dynamic, daddy!kink, dubcon, extreme depictions of depression, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of illness, 18+ only, minors do not interact! Â
đđźđŠđŠđđ«đČ: The end.
đ/đ:Â This is it. 37.7k words. The ending. I have read over it and edited it countless times, but please forgive any errors. Apart from that, enjoy!
PART I
âPETER! STOP!â
It's only when you scream at the very top of your lungs that Peter finally skids to a stop. But his grip on your arm remains firm â like heâs frenzied. And why wouldnât he be? He must know the danger heâs put himself in; both of you look back at the mouth of the stadium for Steve. But there are too many people, too much going on, and you canât tell whether your heart is beating crazily in longing for Steve or in warning for when he inevitably does find you. And Peter.
âLook, Iâve got a car.â Peter looks at you pleadingly, tugging at your hand again. Heâs dragged you all the way to one of the parking lots of the stadium. âHe wonât catch up to us if we leave now, not when thereâre so many people. Please, just come on!â He gives you another yank, but youâve got your feet planted firmly on the rough asphalt.
âI donât want to go.â
âWhat?â
Now that youâve verbalised it, it becomes all too real. You want to stay â right? Thatâs what youâve just said, sounding as firm as youâve ever sounded in your life. Clearing your throat, you take a deep breath before looking him dead in the eyes.
âPeter, Iâm sorry but I donât want to go with you. I want to stay with Steve.â
âWhat? No, you donât mean that, youâre not thinking straight, youââ
His voice cuts off suddenly and he blinks. You wait with baited breath for the âyouâre crazyâ and the âare you kidding me?!â but all he does is stare at you.
What is it that he sees in your face through his unwavering stare? Is it something he refused to see before? Is Peter finally seeing the person who used to be his girlfriend before she cheated on him with another man? The same man whose baby youâre carrying? A man whose love you readily accepted after everything he put you through? A man whose proposal you accepted without even thinking of anyone else, Peter included?
âI canât believe heâs done this to you.â
Genuine horror specks through his brown eyes, and you realise that itâs not your face heâs staring at. Itâs your neck. Your mark. Shock donning his features, his lips parted and Adamâs apple bobbing, he reaches out to touch the jagged line. As if on cue, your mark throbs and you wince away from him. You feel a stinging pain, a warning pain â as if Peterâs touching something heâs not supposed to, and it makes you jerk backwards.
âNo wonder you donât want to come with me.â Peter sucks in his breath, and itâs like his face canât decide between revulsion or pity and so it settles on a mix of both. âHeâs marked you. Brainwashed you.â
Brainwashed? No, no, no. You want to stay with Steve, donât you? Now that heâs finally turning a new leaf, now that heâs promised you everything? Now that the lingering fear of him stomping all over your trust and ruining it like he has in the past is gone⊠Itâs gone, right? Thatâs why you want to stay!
âPeter, heâs going to kill you if he sees you. You have to goââ
âI canât even begin to tell you how fucked up this is.â Itâs like seeing Steveâs mark on your neck has incensed him to the point of anger. âHow could heâ? How could you let him do this to you?â
âI didnât really have a choiceâbut a lot has happened since then!â You feel defensive â and what does that mean for you? You donât really have the time to consider your complex feelings towards Steve marking you, however, because danger is imminent and Peter is refusing to see that. âLook, Iâll explain everything to you somehow. But you know how he gets when he sees you, or me talking to you. You know what happened last time, Peter, and I donât want him to hurt you again! Please go!â
âSTOP TELLING ME TO GO!â Peter bursts, âIâm not going anywhere, alright? I walked away last time and look what heâs done to you.â His eyes cloud over as he grips both your shoulders, âYou were my girlfriend first, okay? Weâd barely started dating but we were happy, werenât we? And he took that away, he ruined that. But you were mine first.â
His lips press roughly against yours before you even have a chance to understand whatâs happening. And it feels like you canât breathe, like youâre drowning. Like someoneâs dunked you in ice cold water and you canât get out no matter how hard you push. It feels alien. It feels wrong. Youâve kissed Peter before and you remember it being sweet and safe. But now itâs like youâve been programmed down to your core to only respond to Steveâs kisses. And the sudden foreignness of Peterâs lips has you recoiling â or at least trying to, except he keeps a firm hold on you, his lips moving desperately against yours.
Was he searching for something? Something that just wasnât there anymore? Was it ever there?
You donât have much time to mull over that, however, because youâre suddenly ripped off of Peter. Instinctively, you reach up to wipe your lips, heart beating in a mix of relief and confusion. And then a familiar scent makes your nostrils tingle, and you look down slowly at the fist holding tightly onto your wrist. Blue veins running up and down a muscular arm which seems to be shaking with anger. And your gaze trails upwards, and your blood freezes.
Steve.
It takes the alpha all of two seconds to tackle Peter to the ground. And then he stands over him, cheeks red and eyes narrowed almost to slits. Teeth bared, growl emanating from his whole chest like a wild animal about to strike. Heâs breathing rapidly, too rapidly â you could almost mistake it for a panic attack except his face is so still. Not a muscle twitches, his sneer locked into place.
Steve is livid. You can tell from the pure rage you feel in your bond with him, from the way heâs so quiet. It reminds you of the night he forcefully bonded with you, how quietly angry heâd been, how frighteningly rough as heâd taken what he pleased. And it fills you with a cold terror, because that anger had been ignited because heâd seen Peter touch your arm. But this was a kiss. And Steve had seen it.
âYou just made the worst mistake of your fucking life.â Steve says quietly, glaring daggers at Peter.
âSteve, donât!â You grab at his arm but he easily pushes you off, not even sparing you a glance. Heâs like a predator poised before an attack. And the poor prey never stood a chance.
âGo ahead, Steve.â Peter swallows, getting back up to his feet, his chin up. And itâs surprising how his voice is strong and unwavering, despite the alpha twice his size hovering over him. âYou gave me a black eye once but Iâm still here. Give me another one, it doesnât matter. Iâll keep coming back for her.â
It only takes a nanosecond, a flurry of movement, before Steve punches Peter straight in the jaw. The force of the blow knocks the beta off his feet. And your mouthâs open in horror, a silent scream stuck in your throat at the sickly crackling sound, and the thud of Peterâs head hitting the rough asphalt underneath him.
âI told you, didnât I? I told you thereâd be hell to pay if I ever saw you near her again.â Steve says softly, yet thereâs foreboding danger laced in every word. He grabs Peterâs collar so hard that his knuckles turn white, âAnd you fucking kissed her, you stupid fucking sonofabitch. I could split your fucking skull open on the ground right fucking now.â
His words are violent and so is his threat, but again, itâs the way heâs talking so quietly, so calmly as Peter coughs and sputters underneath him. Thatâs what chills your blood more than anything else.
âSteve, please donât!â You try again.
Steve gives Peter several violent shakes, and each shake is accompanied by a venomous word, âDonât â fucking â touch â her â again, you beta scum piece of shit!â
âShe was mine first.â
âYOU SON OF A BITCHââ
It happens quickly after that. But for you, the sequence is delayed, like in slow motion. Steve lunges forward, holding Peterâs collar tight while his other fist lands another swift punch to the brunetteâs jaw. And thereâs that horrific crackling noise again, fuelled by white-hot anger. Anger and alpha seemed to go hand-in-hand, and Peter sputters and spits out blood and stares back defiantly despite it all.
Were you a fool to believe Steve would change? Blindly believing in his promises like you always had and then watching him go back on his word and destruct anything good that could potentially come of them? Were you doomed to watch the same story repeat itself over again? Hurt, pain, forgiveness. Then more hurt, more pain⊠more forgiveness. Like a vicious cycle, a path of destruction. More chaos. More hurt. More anger. Would it ever end?
Suddenly, youâre tired.
âIf you hurt him again, Iâll never forgive you.â
Your tone is loud, clear and concise. No stutter. Like in the bathtub all those nights ago, when the dark claws of hopelessness had almost pulled you down under. But nothingâs tugging at you now, except the pull of Steveâs promises that heâd made earlier. Did they mean something, when it really came down to it? Would he be different this time?
Steve freezes, still breathing hard and heâs still got Peterâs collar in his hand. Peter, whose jaw is already beginning to bruise and swell. Two pairs of eyes, blue and brown, snap over to you but you only look into one of them.
âSteve.â
His name falls out of your mouth quietly. The moment is brief, but your alpha seems to see deep into your eyes. His lips press together to form a thin line, and his breathing slows, evens out. Then, for a horrific second, rage infiltrates his features once more, twisting them, turning them pointed and cruel. And then a beat passes and so does his fury, as he slowly, unbelievingly, seems to calm back down.
âYou ruined her life by giving her that mark.â Peter says darkly, his words muffled because of a probably broken jaw, âYouâre selfish, Steve. A selfish asshole for doing that to her. And if you had even an ounce of decency in you, youâd let me take her away.â
âYou donât fucking know what youâre saying.â Steve says through gritted teeth, âYou donât know the first thing about me and her.â
âI know that sheâs good, sheâs kind. And you feed off of that, because you could never fathom being that kind yourself.â Peter stares up at Steve brazenly, like he knows heâs on the brink of a beating but is long past caring. âYouâve manipulated her to the point where she thinks she doesnât want to leave you.â And then he looks at you pleadingly, âYou can leave him, okay? Just come with me.â
Steve lets out an almighty snarl, his anger coming back tenfold, and he draws his fist back, about to punch Peter again. And you move without thinking, throwing caution to the wind as you grab his arm with both of yours.
âSteve. Donât hurt him. I wonât forgive you.â
Steve whips his head back in fury, looking from you to Peter and then you again, before his gaze drops down to where your hand holds tightly over his fist. The alpha, so big and foreboding, seems to be unravelling in front of you. Was there a chink in that unbreakable armour, in that searing anger on his face? Before, he would never have hesitated in his blind fury, but now�
For the second time, the rage seems to dissipate from his face, before it fights its way back and twists his mouth into a snarl. And then it fades away again, like a receding wave. And thatâsâ when you realise it:
Heâs fighting himself.
âWe should go, Steve.â You say quietly.
Almost robotically, Steve releases Peterâs collar. His entire being is tense with hardly-contained rage, but by some miracle, he listens to you. Maybe itâs your bond or just sheer luck, or maybe youâve touched him somewhere from deep within, but he stands up and backs away from the scene in front of him. You take his hand, and he allows you to entwine your fingers with his and pull him away. But not before he gives Peter one last deathly look.
âThe only reason youâre not dead right now is because of her.â Steve spits out, each seething word laced with pure venom.
And Peterâs face shines red with blood and his eyes shine bright with betrayal as he looks beyond Steve and straight at you. And thereâs a part of you that wants to run back and help him, make sure his jaw is okay. Tell him youâre sorry, that you never meant for it to end this way. Instead, you take your phone out to call 911, hoping and praying he didnât get a concussion from when his head hit the ground.
âDonât fucking bother.â The beta spits out at you when he sees the phone in your hand, and you immediately freeze. And then he turns his attention to Steve.
âSheâll never love you.â Peter coughs as he stumbles to his feet. Steve goes deathly still next to you.
The alphaâs back is still turned, but that doesnât deter Peter as he laughs bitterly. âYou may have her trapped under your thumb, but just know that sheâll never really love you. Because no one could love you, Steve. And any kindness she shows to you is because she is kind, and any affection she shows to you is because youâve marked her and she canât help her biology.â
Steve still doesnât turn back, but you can feel him begin to shake. And he grips your hand so tight, you feel like your bones might shatter.
âYou think youâve won, Steve?â Peter laughs again, âYou had to forcefully mark her to get her to stay with you. She feels nothing for you, you hear me? Sheâs only with you because sheâs scared and thinks she has no other option. Sheâs only with you because you preyed on an innocent omega, knowing you could trap her because she canât help but do what you say. But take all that away and whatâs left, Steve? Nothing. Certainly not love.â
People are starting to gather and get closer, a few of them muttering and pointing at Peterâs bruised face. And Steve still doesnât look at the beta, almost like heâs rooted in place as he stares straight ahead. You spot a vein in his forehead; it looks like itâs about to pop.
âAlphas like you take whatever you want, with little regard to who you hurt. But mark my words, Steve, itâll be you whoâs hurting in the end.â Peter spits out blood before continuing, his eyes blazing as he ignores the small crowd of concerned people forming around him, âEvery day youâll wake up and youâll look at her and wait for her to tell you she loves you. Hell, you might even be able to scare her into telling you that she does. But youâll spend every day wondering whether she truly means it. Whether her affection is genuine or if itâs just the omega inside her that youâve manipulated. Youâll wonder if her love is real, and I can tell you right now, Steve, that itâs not and it never will be. Because she will never love you.â
âPeter, stopââ You speak up.
âShe wonât ever love you, Steve. No one could ever love you.â
Steve closes his eyes for a moment, his lips gaped open as if heâs struggling to regulate his own breathing. As if every fibre of his being is trying to hold on to remaining stoic. But you can see the chinks in his armour, you can feel his hand as it crushes yours almost desperately, and the way the muscles in his face twitch. You know that itâs taking everything within him to hold himself together, and you also know that anything could set him off.
Peter turns and leaves, the small crowd parting to give him space to move. A few people offer to help him, but he shrugs them off. You watch for a second as your ex-boyfriend walks away, feeling broken in more ways than one. There are so many things you want to say to him, but you have a bigger problem on your hands right now.
You pull on Steveâs hand to lead him away from the scene, and away from the crowd that begins to disperse almost as soon as it had gathered.
*
âFUCK HIM!â
You sit completely rigid in the passenger seat of Steveâs car, in shock over whatâs just happened. Your eyes are glued to Steve, watching him through the windshield as he paces. His hands are clenched into fists, his face white as a sheet and hair a mess as he keeps running his hands through it. Finally, he throws open the driverâs seat door and gets inside. And thatâs when you realise that heâs still shaking.
âFuck.â He breathes, looking straight ahead. His slightly stubbled jaw is tightly clenched, and you can see that protruding vein on his temple. His blue eyes look wild, glazed, unfocused, as his hands grip the steering wheel, most likely in a bid to calm himself down.
âSteveââ
âFUCK!â He explodes, the word hurtling out like a venomous fireball bouncing off the interior of the car. He rams his fist against the dashboard, making the whole car shake just like he is. âFUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK HIM!â
Heâd held it together pretty well during the tense walk away from Peter and all the way to the other side of the parking lot to where his car was parked. Heâd pushed you inside almost at once, as if he needed you sat in one place where he could see you. And now, with relatively nobody around you both, his emotions were quick to unravel.
Steve gets out of the car again. And you watch him, his brows heavily furrowed, lips twisted as he keeps chanting the same thing over and over again: âFUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!â And he gives the tire an almighty kick, once again making the car shake, and you grip the seat nervously, heart jumping up to your throat.
Another kick. And another one. Each one harder than the last, each one making your blood run colder and colder. Steve looked crazed, incensed, troubled, hurt and out-of-control â all those emotions wrapped up inside one alpha? Youâre scared for what he might do next.
He stands there, chest heaving and face still screwed up. And then he gets back into the car, breathing hard. In fact, heâs gulping for air â as if he canât seem to fill up his lungs no matter how hard he tries. Shaking hands, a wild look in his eye, theyâre all tell-tale signs of a feeling you know all too wellâŠ
Was Steve having a panic attack?
Itâs a side of him youâve never really seen before. The formidable alpha who never outwardly showed even a hint of vulnerability.
âFuck â him â he â doesnât â know â anything!â Steve gets out between gasps of breath, his broad chest rising and falling at an alarming rate as he grips the steering wheel hard, almost as if he wants to tear it off and hurl it out the window.
You surge forward, cupping his face gently in both your hands. Slowly, you rub your wrists against his cheeks and nose. Scenting him. Like how heâd done for you all those weeks ago after the confrontation with Sharon had left you in tears and unable to breathe. You donât know if itâll work now, but you do know that if anything calms you down, itâs his scent. Maybe it would be the same for him?
And Steve looks at you, finally looks at you, with bewildered eyes but his nose twitches. His hand wildly grasps at your wrist, keeping it pressed against his face with a desperate carnality. Slowly, his breathing slows down, evens out. His shoulders sag, and then he crumples. Leaning over the console and hugging you fiercely, burying his face in your neck and holding you so tightly you fear youâll pass out.
âHe kissed you.â Steve says against your skin, âI didnât like⊠Fuck, I hate that he did that. I hate that he touched you. It feels⊠It feelsâŠâ
Itâs like he canât find the words to explain what heâs feeling. But you know, you know, you know! For once, you know exactly whatâs going on in his head because youâd felt it too! When heâd kissed the other omega. Like your heart was breaking over and over again, shattering when it was already shattered â was he feeling that too now? The worst feeling in the world, was Steve feeling it too? You donât know what to say, but a part of you canât help but think: now you know how it feels, Steve.
âYou canât kiss anyone else ever again. I hate it⊠I canât fucking stand it⊠I ââ His lips catch against yours desperately, biting and pulling as his tongue gains entrance to your mouth. You sigh against his lips and he lurches forward, consuming you with a possessive kiss that leaves you reeling.
âHe doesnât know us.â Steve says, digging his fingers into your flesh, âFuck him. He doesnât know the first fucking thing about us. I couldâve killed him.â
âI know.â
âWhere the fuck does he get off? Taking you away from me, kissing you⊠And then all those fucking insinuationsâŠ? Acting like he knows me. Like he knows what I feel for you. As if his tiny fucking brain could even understand what we have between us.â He gives your shoulders a shake, âI swear to fucking God, I shouldâve killed him.â
âIâm really grateful that you didnât.â
Steve lets out a strangled sound, like a mix between a rumble and a sigh. âYouâre the only reason I didnât do it. I couldâve snapped his fucking neck.â
You donât know what to say, all you can do is hug him and hope itâs enough to calm him down. He buries his face in your neck again, desperately smelling you as if heâs making sure youâre really there, as if your scent is the one thing keeping him grounded.
But then his head snaps up suddenly, and he cups your face in his hands.
âLetâs get married now.â
Your heart lurches, âWhat?â
His blue eyes are blazing with fury and excitement, and he sits up straight, nodding to himself, suddenly assured when just a moment ago he was losing it. âWeâll get married now, omega. Weâll go down to city hall and make it official right now. Thatâll show that no good cuck of a beta, wonât it? Thatâll show him what happens if he tries to fuck with me.â
âBut Steveââ
âYou said yes!â Steve whips his head in your direction, the sudden fierceness in his eyes making you cower back. He grabs your wrist tightly, âYou said yes, omega. You said youâd marry me, and youâd be my wife. Mine. Not his.â He laughs maniacally, his grip crushing your wrist. âThat stupid son-of-a-bitch, thinks he can make assumptions about us? Well, Iâll fucking show him.â
âWe canât just get married right this second because you want to prove something to him!â You blurt out before cringing backwards, hoping your words donât set him off. âI know you couldâve hurt Peter really bad, Steve, but you walked away. And that meant everything to me, and you canât just act impulsively now because you want to hurt him. Youâve done that before, Steve. You did that with me.â
You scrunch your eyes shut for just a moment, the memory of him telling you how heâd cheated on you the night you two had fought. It took a special kind of cruelty to exact such a calculated punishment, and you so wanted to believe he wasnât that person anymore. Hadnât he shown that by walking away from hurting Peter?
Fire and ice. Itâs the only way you can describe Steveâs gaze as he looks at you. Thereâs frozen fire in his blue eyes, and a look thatâs cold as steel. It contrasts against the rage that has his cheeks reddening as his grip on your wrist only tightens.
But then he relaxes, thumb stroking your hand as he brings it up to his lips, pressing warm kisses to your skin. Itâs insane, because a second ago he was ready to commit a murder â Steveâs back and forth emotions are giving you whiplash.
âBaby,â He breathes, âI love you, okay? I love you so fucking much, do you understand that? I want you to be my wife, and that has nothing to do with him.â
Again, he cups your face and pulls you close, and the proximity calms your beating heart. You lean into his touch, explosions of summer sun like invisible fireworks all around you. His scent is reeling you in how it always does, and youâre diving in head-first like you always do. His thumbs stroke your cheekbones as he looks at you with eyes that are tender yet still slightly crazed.
âI love you.â He repeats, sounding meaningful. And then he looks at you expectantly, as if heâs waiting with baited breath. Waiting for you to say something back? But the moment is fleeting, and Steve pulls away and diverts his gaze, coughing slightly.
âLetâs go get married.â He starts up the car, and the engine revving to life is what knocks you out of your reverie, and you grab his arm once more.
âSteve, wait! You need at least two witnesses if you want to get married.â
âSo what? Iâll call Sam and someone else. Or weâll grab two random people off the street.â
âMy mom doesnât even know that I have a boyfriend! How can we get married without her knowing?!â
âYour mom wonât careââ Steve cuts himself off quickly, but his words sting all the same. You bite your lip in dismay, but he grabs your hand and gives it a squeeze, before adding softly, âJust text her and let her know.â
âI would like to tell her in person, Steve.â You plead. You know youâre stalling, trying to delay marrying him right at this moment. Why? Well, there were a plethora of reasons. It was too soon, you were too confused, and yes, you genuinely wanted your mother to know before you took such a huge step in life.
The alpha sighs, finally relaxing, but the determined, slightly crazed look in his eyes still remains.
âFine. First thing tomorrow, weâll go see your mother. And then immediately after that, weâre going to get married.â
***
You expect it to be dark and gloomy, but the sun is shining brightly the next day as you and Steve prepare to leave. And the nerves bubble up inside you like an incensed swarm of butterflies. Things were moving so fast⊠Two days ago, you werenât even talking to Steve. And now you were taking him back home, back to where you grew up. Back to your mother. What could possibly go wrong?
The butterflies grow more frenzied.
âAfter we tell your mom, weâll immediately head back to the city, where weâll tell my parents. Your mom can come too, if she wants.â Steve says, locking the front door and leading you to his car. âThen, weâll go to city hall and get married.â
You nod slowly, wishing your heart would stop pounding so hard. He made it sound so easy, checking everything off like a to-do list. Everythingâs happening so fast, and yet you feel like youâre wading through quick sand as you walk down the driveway with your hand intertwined with Steveâs. You hadnât heard from your mom since you left for university, and that was ages ago. Youâd texted her on and off every few weeks, including last night to inform her you were coming back, but she was always too busy with work to ever reply. She didnât know a thing about you â not that you and Steve were dating, certainly not that you were now engaged, and definitely not that you were pregnant.
Would she even care?
You get the sudden urge to cup your belly, but Steveâs words knock you out of your reverie.
âOmega, what the hell is all this?â
You blink, seeing his eyes trained on the little basket in your hand.
âOh. I packed us some lunch for the trip.â Youâd been so wound up all night that youâd awoken early to pack a bag full of homemade meatball subs, potato salad and several little boxes of apple juice. âItâs a long drive, so I figured we could use it. I also, uh, calculated our driving shifts.â
Steve squints down at you, âWhat?â
âW-Well, itâs a long journey, so I figured you could drive for the first half, then I could take overââ
âOmegas donât drive.â
And with that stone-faced remark, Steve lifts you up into the passenger seat of his car. Before he clicks your seatbelt in place, you twist around to put your basket in the backseat before taking Steve Junior out from where he was tucked under your jacket. You place him beside the basket and his coal black eyes stare back at you as his precariously-stitched head lolls to the side. You didnât feel right leaving him in Steveâs room while you travelled so far away. This way, he was close to his parents, and safe from any crazy men who might behead him for a second time.
The journey is quiet, and not even the cheery morning show hostâs voice blaring out the radio can blanket the silence between the two of you. Because what more is there to say when yesterdayâs events couldâve been ripped straight out of a telenovela? Your pregnancy, then Steveâs proposal, then the whole scuffle with Peter which had ended with a string full of damning words that had affected Steve a lot more than you thought they would.
âWhy are you being so quiet?â Steve demands after ten minutes of no conversation. You jolt, staring at him with wide, wary eyes. He was being quiet too, but you know better than to say that to him.
âIâm sorry.â
The alpha sighs, âDonât apologise.â
You almost instinctively apologise once more, before stopping yourself just in time. But you donât know what else to say to him. Do you just go back to being normal after everything that had just happened? What even was ânormalâ with Steve? You canât even remember the last time youâd had a proper conversation with him. One that wasnât intense or emotional or filled with accusations and hurt. So, where do you go from there?
âLetâs play a game.â Steve says after a further ten minutes of silence and you staring out the window at the scenery, and you almost raise an eyebrow at the uncharacteristic suggestion. You peak over at him, and heâs staring straight ahead. His eyebrows are knotted and lips pursed, as if he himself is uncomfortable to a certain degree.
âA game?â
âYes. You ask me a question and I have to answer honestly. And then Iâll do the same with you.â Steve says, sounding like heâs reading instructions off a manual. His âgameâ sounds simple enough, but you still canât help but be wary.
âIâŠuhâŠI donât know what to ask.â You confess and Steve huffs.
âJust do it.â He orders you.
âOkay, uh, wh-whatâs your favourite colour?â You blurt out, immediately feeling stupid.
Steve rolls his eyes, âThatâs not what I meant, omega.â
âIâm sorry.â
You turn back to your window, watching the scenic landscape go whizzing by and hating yourself for being so awkward. It was a wonder he didnât rescind his marriage proposal right then and there, because you couldnât even play his game right and it was such a simple game to begin with and â
âItâs blue.â Steve coughs.
The corners of your mouth quirk up. âOh. I knew that. A lot of your favourite shirts are blue. They match your eyes.â You sit up straighter and glance at him but his expression is impenetrable as always. âMy favourite colour is yellowââ
âYou canât answer your own question.â Steve interrupts. âAnd you canât ask a question that you already know the answer to.â
âOh. Of course, sorryâŠâ You deflate, wanting the buttery leather car seat to swallow you up whole. Youâve been feeling extra sensitive lately, for obvious reasons, and your fingers itch for Steve Junior to calm your nerves. You really wish youâd kept him in the front with you.
âMy turn.â Steve says after a while, right when you think heâs abandoned the game. Thereâs a pause before the car reaches a red light and comes to a halt, and he turns to look at you.
âAre you in love with Peter?â
He spits the question out like each word is pumped full of acid, and his blue eyes bore into yours as he waits for an answer. You can see his fingers already tapping at the steering wheel impatiently and you gulp. You werenât expecting his question to be so loaded off the bat.Â
âWh-What?â
âYou heard me. Are you in love with him? Is that why you were kissing him yesterday?â
Your jaw drops open, âIs that what you think??â
âThatâs what I saw.â
âI did not kiss him back.â You say firmly, a part of you not even caring if he believes you or not at this point.
âYou didnât?â
âNo, Steve. I told him I wanted to stay with you.â And now heâll probably never speak to me again.
Steve pauses as if to mull over this information, and he seems to look somewhat touched before a smirk tugs at his mouth, âWell, of course you didnât kiss him back, and of course you want to stay with me. I knew that.â But you notice how his shoulders relax and his jaw untenses, and he exhales in relief beforeâ
âWell? Answer my original question, omega. Are you in love with him?â
âN-Noââ
âBe honest!â
You take a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts and give him a proper answer. âI donât love him. He was my best friend and we used to hang out together all the time. Weâd watch movies and study together and play computer games. I guess we both thought that since we liked each otherâs company so much, that we might as well start dating. It was my first relationship and it was sweet. But Iâm not in love with him. I donât think I was with him long enough to explore that, but even if I had been, I think I knew deep down that I could only ever love him as a friend.â
Youâre surprised at your own eloquence, and how youâve finally put your jumbled thoughts and feelings into words. Itâs like a weight lifted off your shoulders, but youâre still wary of Steve. In the past, you were never allowed to mention Peter or allude to your relationship with him.
But Steve only nods, relief flooding his features once more, âYeah? Well, I already knew that. I knew you could never love him.â
âOh... Well, I thought you said we werenât allowed to ask questions we already knew the answer to?â
He shoots you a look and rolls his eyes while you turn to look out the window to hide your own smile. You can feel those butterflies creeping up inside you again, fluttering like crazy and making you feel shyer than ever. You only look back when he squeezes your leg.
âYou could watch movies with me too, you know.â Steve says.
âI never thought youâd want to.â
The light turns green and the drive continues, as does the game. Now itâs your turn once more.
âWhy did you â uh ââ You play with the string of your hoodie, wondering whether you should bring this up. But heâd asked you a question about your ex, so you could do the same. âDid you promise Sharon everything that you promised me? About taking care of her and starting a family?â
Steve sighs, âIs that what she told you?â
âIs it true?â You whisper, not sure if you even wanted to know the answer.
âLook, I was with Sharon for two years. Things change as time passes.â
His answer is vague and unsatisfactory, and you feel yourself straighten up in your seat. âSo, two years from now, youâll change your mind about me too?â And our child?
âNo, because youâre different. Everything I said to you was true. About how I wanted you to be the mother of my children, how I promised to take care of you. Ask me again in ten years, and none of that will change.â He inhales deeply, âI told Sharon that I wanted a wife and a family to take care of. But I never explicitly said that I wanted that with her. She never made me feelâŠâ
His voice trails off, but your curiosity gets the best of you. And despite your reserved nature around him, you canât help but clutch his arm and squeeze.
âShe never made you feel what?â
He scrunches his eyes shut for a second, his fingers drumming against the steering wheel. Another long exhale and then:
âNothing, okay? You canât ask multiple questions, omega. Thatâs not how this game works. But to answer your original question: No, I didnât promise any of that to her. She was just bitter that I dumped her, and she took it out on you. And Iâll make sure she pays for that.â
 You sit back, not knowing how to feel. It all boils down to the same thing youâve been asking yourself for a while now: do you trust his word?
The drive continues on for miles and miles. The two of you settle into another short period of silence, but this time itâs more comfortable. You even pluck up the courage to turn the radio back on, engulfing the car in upbeat pop music that makes Steve frown and huff and roll his eyes. But he lets it play, and the melodious crooning of Taylor Swift accompanies you all the way to the gas station.
Steve polishes off his meatball subs in the gas station parking lot after filling up the car, whilst you and Steve Junior watch him. He offers you a sandwich too, but the smell of both the subs and the potato salad is making you queasy, so you politely decline.
âWell, you have to eat something.â He frowns.
âIâm okay.â
âItâs not a request, omega, youâre eating for two now. And why would you pack these sandwiches if you werenât going to eat one?â
You shrug, trying to hold your nausea at bay. âI wanted it in the morning but now I donât want it anymore.â
âThatâs ridiculous. Just eat it!â
âNo!â
âDo what I tell you and eat it!â He thrusts the sandwich into your hand.
âNo, please! I donât want to!â You blanche as the bile rises up to your throat.
Throwing up in a gas station bathroom in the middle of nowhere is a humbling experience, to say the least. You thank your lucky stars that you have your toothbrush in your purse, because the amount of grime and filth covering the toilet has you heaving everything out. Youâd thought youâd lucked out this morning when you hadnât had your usual bout of morning sickness. Well, it was here now, and with a vengeance. You throw up for what feels like an eternity, and then clean and freshen yourself up before emerging from the bathroom, feeling sheepish and embarrassed.
Steve drags you into the nearby convenience store after that, determined to get you to eat something to fill up your now empty stomach. Youâre hesitant at first, but soon point to what you want and let him buy it for you. And then he sits in the car and watches you munch on a hot pickle dipped in peanut butter and a small bag of ice chips.
âYouâre actually enjoying that?â He asks in disbelief.
âYes, I like it.â You hold the pickle out to him. âWould you like some?â
Steve makes a face before the two of you share a look. You donât know whether he cracks a smile first or if itâs you. But you do know that this is new, uncharted territory between you two â much like how this whole day has been. Itâs in the little things, how his smile seems sweet rather than smug. How youâre able to hold eye contact with him longer than youâve ever been able to before. How heâs talking to you like youâre a person, instead of an object that he wants to manipulate.
âI think Iâll pass.â He says, and you shrug, taking another deliciously satisfying bite of the pickle. And youâre so engrossed in how good it tastes (especially with the peanut butter) that you donât even notice when Steve leans over the console and plants a kiss on your forehead.
âYouâre cute.â He says, his cheeks blushed pink in a way youâve never seen them before, and you can feel the tips of your ears growing hot and a fluttering spark deep in your tummy. And then he coughs and straightens back into his seat, shaking his head as if heâs trying to clear it. You continue to munch on your pickle while he checks the GPS and clears his throat.
âLetâs get going. Weâre almost at your motherâs house.â
*
The rest of the drive goes by in a blur, and as the time passes and the roads grow familiar, the light-hearted feeling in your chest is replaced with one of dread and foreboding. Just seeing the signs leading to your hometown brings back a mixed bag of memories. Ranging from good ones (mainly involving Peter and school) to bad ones (everything else). And your stomach churns in anticipation when Steve finally parks his car in front of your childhood home.
âItâs not much.â You say as you reach out to ring the doorbell, gingerly brushing away stray cobwebs from the brass, hoping Steve didnât see them, âAnd my mom is usually too tired to clean, so itâll be a mess in there probably.â You take a deep breath before turning to face him, âLook. I⊠I know itâs not as fancy as what youâre used to, but p-please donât judge it, okay?â
Steve, who up until this moment had been busy surveying the almost decrepit looking street crammed full of houses on the verge of falling apart, frowns back at you. âI wouldnât judge.â
âThank you.â You say quietly, although you feel extremely embarrassed. Steve is undoubtedly used to the grandeur and lavish lifestyle that most of the people at your university lead. You know he probably gets more money in his monthly allowance than your mother would see in a year.
But this was where youâd grown up, this tiny house which resembled more of a cottage, with its two rooms and leaky roof and creaky doors. The house youâd so desperately tried to make into a home, learning to cook and clean and sew at a young age just so you could spruce things up at home while your mother worked six â maybe seven â days a week and her boyfriend of the month sat at home and drank, andâŠ
You blink it all away, ringing the doorbell again but no one answers. Nervously, you bite your lip and glance back at Steve, who has an arm protectively around your waist as if he thinks something might burst out from inside and attack you.
âMomâs probably at work.â You explain, gnawing at your lip.
âWhat does she do again?â
âSheâs a waitress.â You say sharply, your tone starkly defensive. Suddenly, youâre transported back to the beginning of freshman year â Steve and his gang smirking and laughing at you about everything, from your hand-me-down clothes to your scuffed sneakers. Would they have had a field day with the knowledge that your mom was a waitress? When all their parents were bankers, businessman, doctors and lawyers? âWhy are you asking me that?â
âRestaurants would all be shut at this time.â
âWell, maybe sheâs asleep. She works really, really hard, okay?â You canât help as your voice grows more high-pitched; your tone more distressed. Itâs like the past few hours of easy conversation with him all evaporated as soon as you entered this house. Your defences are now coming up higher and higher â the same defences that had slowly corroded and crumbled through incessant bullying throughout the year. But this is your home, your turf, your mother â you canât help but be defensive.
âBaby, are you okay?â Steve asks softly, and itâs still so strange to be faced with this side of him. This softer, kinder side that almost seems to have manifested overnight. Itâs like half of you is still on high-alert, waiting for him to burst out laughing. Waiting for him to get his phone out and take pictures of the poverty surrounding him and send them to everyone he knows. Instead, his warm hand rubs your back soothingly and you donât know what to think.
âIâm fine.â You sound so clipped, itâs strange. You know you shouldnât be speaking to him like this, and in the past, he wouldâve warned you for being short with him. But right now, he doesnât say anything as you both wait at the front door, with you shifting nervously from one foot to the other.
Finally, you sigh, reassuring yourself that your mother is probably just at work or asleep inside as you bend down and reach under the dirty welcome mat, thanking your lucky stars that the spare key is still there.
Steve tenses his jaw, âThatâs not safe, omega.â
You donât answer, because what robber would ever come to your house? What exactly would they steal? You donât have time to mull over it before Steve snatches the key from you, grabbing your hand and stepping in front of your body like a human shield. He unlocks the door and slowly steps inside with you following on his tail.
âMom,â You call out, trying to flip on the lights except they arenât working. Thatâs nothing new â sometimes your mom was late to pay the bill and so theyâd cut the electricity out, but itâs embarrassing for it to happen now, with Steve here. âMom? Itâs me! Iâm home!â
Your voice echoes around the room, but thereâs no response. Steve turns his phoneâs flashlight on, shining it around and revealing the stark, dusty furniture. The stained carpet and cracked coffee table loaded with empty takeaway containers. You always kept the place neat and tidy when you lived here: surfaces gleaming and fresh flowers on the table, but clearly your mother and her boyfriend havenât kept that up since you moved to college.
âMom? Didnât you hear me? Iâm home! And my â uh â my boyfriendâs here too.â You cough and try not to look at Steve when you say that part; it still gives you butterflies when you refer to him as your boyfriend. Or fiancĂ©. Father of your baby? Your mother has no idea about any of that, and you try to ignore the wobble in your voice, âI-I know I was supposed to come home as soon as the term ended, but a lot of things came up. Thereâs â uh â thereâs a lot of things I need to tell you, mom.â
No response, and the door to your motherâs bedroom is ajar.
âOmega, I donât think anyoneâs at homeââ
 You ignore him, and it feels like youâre wading through wet cement as you make your way over to her bedroom. Creaking the door open and seeing it empty, bedsheets stripped and drawers hanging open and closet left ajar too. All empty. No clothes, bags, shoes, anything. A gasp dies in your throat and you shut the door and step back, bumping into Steveâs hard chest.
âIs she in there?â He asks, although his eyes seem to know the answer.
âSheâs still at work.â You answer brightly, clearing your throat to get rid of the lump, blinking several times as a wide smile plasters itself on your face. âSheâs just at work.â You repeat, diverting your eyes when he gives you a concerned look. âSheâs probably working late â maybe she got a new job where she has longer hours.â
Steve sighs, âOmegaââ
âWe could kill some time till she comes back. Please, letâs justâŠâ You take a deep breathe, âMaybe we can go into my room?â You drag him away from your motherâs door and to the one right next to it. Your room. And Steve is about to say something but stops short when you open your door and lead him inside, and he grips your dresser, inhaling deeply.
His Adamâs apple bobs as he swallows and his eyes flutter shut, long lashes fanning his face. He looks so big in your tiny room â itâs about the size of a closet, much smaller than your dorm room. And with your bed, your dresser and your closet, there isnât much space to walk or even stand for one person, let alone you and your 6â6 framed alpha.
âYour scent is everywhere in here.â Steve says, sniffing the air greedily before impulsively tugging you flush again him. The embrace comes out of nowhere, but you still feel the goosebumps you always do whenever he does things like this. And you let him hold you, relaxing against his comforting arms despite the alarm bells ringing at the back of your head.
âI grew up in here.â You answer quietly, still in his embrace as you turn around, back against his front and he wraps his arms around your waist. âI only moved out months ago, but it feels like ages since then. Like so much has happened, and this is a whole different life.â You reach down to stroke your pink bedsheets â they look exactly how youâd left them â and you imagine the ghost of a younger girl whoâd hide in here and study to drown out the sounds of drunken fighting coming from outside.
Steve draws away from you, distracted by the contents of your bedroom. There isnât much left, but youâve still got a bunch of books and some tiny knick-knacks lying around on your desk. And youâre momentarily transported back to that first day as you watch him rifle through your things just like heâd done when heâd come over for that tutoring session.
âAw look, itâs baby omegaâs diary.â Steve grins, grabbing a tiny, worn-out yellow journal and flipping through it, making you snap out of it and frown.
âHey! Give that back!â You lunge for it, embarrassed and not wanting him to read your childish wishes and whims that youâd jotted down over the years. But Steve is much too tall, much too strong, and easily holds the journal out of your reach. He opens it to a random page, his voice comically high-pitched as he reads your words out loud.
âDear diary, we got our math test results back today and I got a B. I cried for a while but it just means I have to study harder.â Steve chuckles, âWow, omega, you were a huge nerd even back then.â
âPlease give it back.â
âNo way, weâre killing time, remember?â He flips to a different page, âDear diary, the classroom hamster died today and nobody else seemed to feel sad about it.â He snorts, âCute.â
âSteveââ
âDear diary, momâs new boyfriend is really scary. Sometimes he stares at meâŠâ
Steveâs voice trails off, but his eyes remain glued to the page, fingers almost crushing the old journal to dust as he grips it hard, and you swallow uncomfortably, blinking away bad memories. Oh, why had you written all that down? Journals were meant to store memories and you didnât want to remember thatâŠ
Brows furrowed yet expression still unreadable, Steve finally sets the diary down. âWhat is this about?â
You shrug, diverting your gaze.
He draws you closer again, his face distraught, and you wonder whether youâre in trouble. And you know thatâs insane â why would you be in trouble? â but you canât help but worry all the same, the lump in your throat growing bigger and bigger. Steveâs hand cups your cheek, stroking it lightly and tipping your face upwards to meet his gaze.
âDid he touch you? Your motherâs boyfriend?â
âNo.â
âIâll find him and kill him if he did.â His threat is serious despite the gentleness of his tone, and his thumb strokes your cheekbones, and the heat thatâs always radiating from him is almost like a hug, almost like heâs cocooning you in a warm whirlpool of safety, where the only man there is him, him, him. Just him.
âHe didnât. And there were a lot of boyfriends â theyâd come and go.â You focus on Steveâs chest, not being able to look into his eyes. âOne of them hit me once, because it was dinnertime and he ate my momâs portion too and I thought that was so unfair. So I spoke up.â A bitter laugh escapes your throat, you can still remember how your cheek had stung with pain. âWell, I learnt never to do that again, and now I have this stupid stutter every time I do speak up in front of people.â
You stare out the window, at the desolate patch of dead grass outside and the ghost of a little girl playing there to escape the monsters inside the house.
âMost of my momâs boyfriends hated me, but some of them would stare.â You scrunch your eyes for a moment before opening them and forcing out another laugh, âThatâs why I wore those huge hoodies that you hate so much. It made them stare less, and then I guess I just got used to wearing them all the time.â
You wish with all your heart that you could read the expression on Steveâs face, or maybe read his mind and know what heâs thinking in this moment. But he only stares at you, and he stares and stares and stares, his lips pressed into a thin line.
âLetâs go from here.â He says finally, âYour mother clearly isnât here and youâre getting tired. I need to take you home.â He grabs your arm, pulling you out the door but you dig the soles of your feet into the ground, shaking your head.
âNo, Steve, please. Sheâs probably almost back!â
âYouâve had a long day, omega, and youâre wearing yourself out. Youâre pregnant now so you need to be careful about these things. Donât argue with me.â
The tears well up in your eyes before you can stop them, and the lump in your throat gets bigger and bigger. Itâs no secret that your pregnancy has made you more emotional, but a small part of you wants to stubbornly lock yourself in your childhood room and wait for her to come home, no matter what your alpha tells you to do, no matter what you know deep down in your heartâŠ
Sheâs not coming home⊠The voice at the back of your head is beguiling and mocking at the same time, but you forcibly ignore it with everything inside you.
âPlease. I havenât spoken to her for months. She⊠She doesnât even know about you, Steve! Let alone the fact that weâre gonna be married, or that Iâm pregnant. And she deserves to knowââ Your voice breaks, and you will yourself to be brave but the tears are already halfway down your face, âSheâs my mother, Steve. She deserves to know.â
Steve sighs, âFine. An hour and then weâre leaving.â
Itâs progress, because before he wouldnât have even entertained the idea of listening to you. You give him a small smile of gratitude before taking a seat on your bed â heâs right, you are tired. There are so many aspects of your pregnancy that youâre yet to get used to: the unpredictability of your emotions, the nausea, the soreness, how tired you feel sometimes. Maybe itâs something you could discuss with your mother; a talking point, a bit of common ground. You sigh as your heart pitter-patters â why isnât she home yet?
Steve resumes looking through your things â he really seems to like doing that. You watch as he rummages through your old scented candles which are all burnt down and used up, your pens which have dried out and your other stationary, your old clothes which are too small for you now. You wonder what exactly he finds so interesting about all this, and then he finds a stack of old photographs inside your drawer.
Quietly, he comes over and sits next to you, sifting through the pictures.
âThatâs me when I was a few days old.â You point out when he pauses at a picture of a baby swaddled in white cloth. Youâre gazing imploringly up at the camera, eyes big and tearful, with your tiny fists waving in the air. âMy mom said I cried a lot as a baby.â
âWell, that hasnât changed.â Steve snorts before a hesitant smile crosses his features, âYou were cute.â
You shrug. There arenât many more pictures from your childhood; none of you as a toddler or any as you got older. These baby pictures were all you had, and Steve quickly stores them in the inner pocket of his leather jacket.
Itâs like thereâs a big grandfather clock inside your head, and each tick is a mocking laugh as the time passes. You and Steve leave your room, and you take a firm seat on the couch, eyes trained on the door with a concentration nothing could possibly break. Steve sits beside you for a handful of moments before he grows restless, huffing and shaking his head. But every time his gaze fixes on you, it softens. And whatever words heâs got on the tip of his tongue seem to die in his throat.
Ten minutes pass. And then another ten. Itâs almost pitch black all around you, except for the light from Steveâs phone. The alpha gets to his feet and resorts to pacing, but you block it all out. Thereâs nothing in your mind except for: sheâs going to come home, sheâs going to come home, sheâs going to come home! Any minute nowâŠ
From your peripheral, you can see Steve make his way into the open kitchen, the space looking largely unused. You vaguely wonder who has been cooking since youâve been gone. Whoâs been cleaning through the cloud of depression that fogs this place? Whoâs been making this house feel like a home since youâve been gone?
Itâs not a home anymore, sheâs not coming back! The voice in your head sings but youâve become good at pushing the thoughts out now.
âOmega.â Steveâs voice, loud, clear and serious, cuts through the war going on inside your head. âLook at this. Thereâs a letter here. For you.â
No. No. No. No. What letter? There was no letter.
âSteve, Iâm waiting for my mom right now.â You answer unwaveringly, eyes locked on the door despite this horrific feeling slowly invading your bloodstream like poison.
You hear his footsteps before he sits back down beside you, his arm going around you and you feel his warmth but thereâs also this foreboding type of chill within you. Just keep your eyes on the door, sheâll walk in any moment now.
âI think you should read this. Itâs got your name on it.â Steve sounds oddly gentle, but like heâs miles away. Yet you only stare at the door, because you donât want to look at the paper in his hand. Looking at it would make it real, and reality is almost always accompanied by pain. And there was already so much pain inside you, wasnât there? No, no, no. There was no letter. You were waiting for your mother to come home. She always came home. Drunk, angry, upset, depressed â she always came home.
âI told you that Iâm waiting for my mom right now.â Is it really you who sounds so clipped and dismissive? With just that little bit of desperation hanging off the end of your words, as if begging him, willing him to put the letter away? To pretend itâs not there? And that everythingâs okay? And that youâre not moments away from crushing, mind-numbing despair?
Instead, you hear the rustle of parchment, knowing Steveâs unfolding the paper. Heâs reading whatever is written on it. And you try and focus on the brass doorknob, waiting for it to turn. Willing it to turn but it remains rigid as ever, and you can hear Steveâs sharp intake of breath as he reads the contents of the letter, before he grabs your arm.
âOmega. Listen to me. Weâre going home. Right now.â Steve says. But itâs when he stands up and tugs you up with him, that you feel the elastic band inside you snap. The band that was just about holding you together, breaking apart and tearing your insides apart along with it.
âFUCK OFF, STEVE! Canât you see Iâm waiting for my mom? Sheâs running late but sheâll be home any minute. Maybe you donât know what it means to have a hardworking parent who works long hours, but if you want to go home, then just go! IâM NOT COMING WITH YOU BECAUSE IâM WAITING FOR HER!â
Never before have you yelled at him this badly, but you donât even brace yourself for his anger or whatever punishment heâll undoubtedly throw your way. Youâre too distracted by the dread piling up inside you, threatening to shatter away that tiny sliver of hope that you still cling to. Stubbornly, you sink back down on the couch, crossing your arms over your chest and once more locking your eyes on the front door. Sheâll come home. Any minute now. Sheâll be here.
You can see Steveâs hands ball into fists, and you hear him take several breaths before he gets down on his knees in front of you. For a split second, you look into his clear blue eyes, seeing your own reflection staring back at you. Why do you look so scared? So haunted? So alone? But then you blink and look back at the door, doing everything to just block him out, even when he gently cups your face and his thumbs stroke your cheeks.
âBaby, sheâs not coming back.â He says it so tenderly, but then why does each word feel like a sharp knife twisting into your stomach?
âYes, she is.â
âNo. Sheâs not.â And he presses the paper into your limp hand. And now you can feel it, and if you can physically feel something, then how long until you have to stop denying its existence? âThe letter says that she ââ
âStop, stop, stop, stop, stop ââ
âIt says that she left, omega.â
âNO!â
For one feral second, you get the urge to crumple the letter in your hand and throw it far away. To another dimension, if that was possible. And then just continue staring at the door, willing your mother to come home and prove Steve wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong! But the sane part of your brain thatâs trying desperately to keep you grounded makes sure that the paper remains in your fingers. And with a shaky hand, you slowly bring it up so you can read it:
I donât know if youâll even see this, but itâs worth a shot. Look, I just needed to get out of here, okay? And Iâve got a new man, heâs got a place up in Minnesota. Heâs not like the rest of them, he says heâll take care of me real good. I just need a fresh start, to get away from all this bullshit. And youâve always been able to take care of yourself better than I could ever take care of you. Who knows, with your fancy college degree, you probably arenât ever coming back home. I wouldnât blame you, Lord knows this ainât a home and hasnât been since your father left. I donât know how to end this, so, I guess this is goodbye.
Your mother.
As the words sink in, you feel like youâre having an out of body experience. Itâs like you can see yourself. Abandoned girl left alone in her abandoned home. Nobody cares if you hurt. Nobody cares about you. Everyone leaves. You hear a giggle and whip your head to the side. A ghost of a young girl playing in the shadows, not knowing what sorrow lay in store for her. A girl who once thought of this place as her home, despite all the terror, all the screaming. Despite the harrowing stench of booze and the men that came and went. A girl who was never allowed to forget that her father left her, but never once considered that her mother would leave too.
An ear-piercing, glass shattering scream leaves your mouth. Your lips curl, and then you let out another one. You scream and scream and scream, incoherent and crazed as your emotions finally pour out. Heart-shattering sadness like how youâve never felt before, so much so that Steve grabs your shoulders and it doesnât even register to you. Itâs all swirling up inside of you and coming out: hurt, sadness, despair, and⊠Anger.
Some other-worldly strength overtakes you, and you shrug out of Steveâs grip. Grabbing the nearest object from the coffee table, you hurl it at your motherâs abandoned bedroom door with all your might. And then youâre pounding at her door, fists numb to the pain as you punch at the old, creaking wood before Steveâs strong arms grab you by the waist and pull you back.
âI did everything to make you happy, Mom!â You cry, as if itâs her in front of you and not just her bedroom door. âI tried everything to make up for him leaving! Iâm the one who cooked and cleaned while you drank! And kept my mouth shut and stayed out of your way! I loved you even when you chose your boyfriends over me! Even wore big clothes so theyâd stop staring at me, because I knew it made you angry! I did everything I could, Mom! SO WHY WAS IT NEVER ENOUGH?â
Suddenly, you canât stand to be inside this dark house. Again, twisting out of Steveâs grip, you dart towards the front door, throwing it open and being met with the cool night breeze. You gasp, breathing as if you havenât breathed in ages, and thatâs when the tears start coming out.
You sink to the ground, which is just a patch of dried-up grass, crying for everything youâve lost, for everything you never had. Crying for the little girl who grew up in a house that was never a home, and most of all, you cry for the unwavering hope that remained in her innocent heart â in your heart â and how the cruel world around you had snatched it away, chewed it up and spat it back out till it was nothing more than a husk.
Loud, ugly sobs wrack through you. You clutch at the dead grass, ripping it out and scattering it like a madwoman, like someone whoâs reached the end of the end and doesnât know what to do now. You can hear Steve behind you, quiet as if heâs in shock. And then he comes to sit on the ground beside you, his lips parted and his eyes glazed, and he lets you cry as if he knows you need to get it out of you.
And you both just sit there, two kids on a patch of dead, brown grass. Somewhere in between your screams and cries, Steveâs hand slips over yours, squeezing tightly.
Youâre still crying softly when he finally picks you up, hugging your limp body close to his chest.
âLetâs go home.â He says firmly.
You look up at him sorrowfully, and you can see the moon twinkling in his eyes. Thereâs darkness all around you, but through your vision, blurred by your tears, itâs like heâs got a fiery halo around him. And maybe itâs just the dingy streetlights reflecting off of his pale skin as he walks you to his car, but itâs like heâs exuding this intense light. Safety. Warmth. Heat. You cuddle closer, but your lower lip quivers.
âI donât have a home, Steve.â
He opens the car door and puts you inside, but he still holds on to you tightly, an almost earnest look on his face as he brushes your hair back.
âWeâll be each otherâs home. Wherever you are, thatâs where my home is. And wherever I am, Iâll take you with me. Youâll never hurt like this again. I promise, Iâll die before I see you hurt like this again.â
He sounds sincere, but you can feel yourself slipping away. Slipping into that dark place, darker than when Bucky had locked you outside of the house and the rain was peltering on your back like hard rocks. A billion times darker than that, and bleaker, like a sorrowful little hole where you just want to curl up in and die. Because what is there to live for when one by one, inevitably, everyone just leaves?
âI donât want to live anymore.â You say quietly, more to yourself than to him. You close your eyes, willing yourself to somehow just slip and sink your way into blackness, into not existing anymore. âI just want it all to end, Steve. I just want to die.â
From the driverâs seat next to you, you feel a harsh grip on your upper arm. So hard that it pulls you back up to the surface from the metaphorical lake of sorrow youâre mentally trying to drown yourself in. And you see Steve staring at you with an expression of horror, anger and pity as he says your name again and again, sounding almost choked up as he does it.
âDonât say that. Iâll find her for you. Iâll hire the best private investigator in the country, and theyâll find her and it wonât take long. Theyâll find your father too, if thatâs what you want.â
You shake your head, âIt wouldnât matter. They donât want me.â
âWell, fuck them both. I want you.â
You donât reply, and he shakes you hard before pulling you into a desperate embrace, his hand cupping the back of your head as he holds you against his chest harder than he ever has before.
âI wonât survive without you, okay? I know this isnât about me but youâre the love of my life and I canât live without you. I need you with me, okay? Okay?â
Thereâs a certain desperation in Steveâs tone, as if heâs seen you go to hell and back before and doesnât want to see a repeat of it. Like he desperately wants to keep you from succumbing to the darkness thatâs trying to pull you in like how it had before in the bathtub weeks ago. But you just feel limp in his arms, thinking back to the empty dresser in your motherâs room and how sheâd only left you a letter. A piece of paper and that was it.
âStay with me, okay? Iâm sorry for being a fucking jerk and making your life miserable when you were already suffering so much. Just⊠Just please, donât shut me out like before. I need you to stay with me.â Steve shakes you again, âIâll be better, alright? Iâll be better for you and our baby. Iâll give you the life you deserve and I know Iâve been making all these promises but I mean it this time, okay? I just need you to stay with me, omega. You donât need your mom or your dad, because theyâre shitty people and they never deserved you. And you have me. And youâll always have me, baby. I promise, okay? I promise.â
You sag in his arms, feeling so emotionally exhausted that youâre numb. But his words pierce deep down through all of that, sparking something in your heart through the heavy shrouds of hurt and pain. You remember back when youâd felt this numbness before, in the bathtub after being locked out. Steve had remained silent then, but he wasnât being silent anymore. Oh, he was giving you hope!
You kick away at the grim reaperâs bony hands that try to grab at you, that are trying to drag you down that same path of sorrow and loneliness. Maybe youâre tired or just delirious from everything youâve just been through, but Steveâs face radiates with light like the sun. Maybe he is the sun? But it doesnât hurt to look at him, in fact, itâs the opposite. You feel warmth, fuzziness and lightness cut through and corrode the numbness away. And slowly, fighting through the pain, you surface up and hug him back.
âStay with me.â Steve repeats.
âOkay. Iâll stay. But it still hurts so much.â
âI know, but Iâll make sure it all goes away.â
Your brain feels like sludge and your body feels like itâs moving through quicksand, but despite it all you manage to squeeze his hand. And then you close your eyes. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â All that yelling, screaming, and crying. You want to stay with him like how he asked, but youâre so tired, so exhausted.
âCan I sleep?â
He nods as if he understands, putting you back in the passenger seat and strapping your seatbelt on. âIâm right here, Iâll keep the nightmares away.â
You really hope he does, although what nightmare could be worse than your own mother leaving you?
His warm scent puts you to sleep, and before you fall under, you can see him looking over at you. He strokes your hair gently before starting the car up, and his next words are the last thing you hear before sleep takes you over:
âIâll take care of you, omega. Youâre my family now, and Iâll make it all up to you. I promise.â
***
PART II
You wake up on a king-sized bed, on a mattress as soft as a feather with a heavy duvet on top of you. Soft, satin sheets kiss against your skin, and you bathe in the luxurious feeling for about five seconds before the panic sets in. Panic because Steve isnât next to you. Your eyes blink open, immediately drinking in an unfamiliar room.
Itâs massive. And you know immediately that itâs Steveâs room. You can tell by his scent which is potently covering every object, and the warm heat it brings with it calms you down some. As does Steve Junior, who is also propped up in your arms along with a bunch of Steveâs clothes that have been folded and thrown around you.
Someone had made a makeshift nest for you.
You smile, imagining Steve doing that while you slept. You look around some more. Yes, this was definitely Steveâs room. Minimalistic furniture in different hues of black, white and grey. A large desk with Steveâs laptop on top of it, as well as a framed picture of a pretty woman who looked to be in her early-to-mid forties. His mother?
You get to your feet, limbs feeling sore and weak. The memories of yesterday are clawing inside your head, forcing you to remember but you keep them at bay for just a little while longer. Instead, you grab your phone to check the time, and find a text from Steve too.
Steve: Iâve gone out to take care of something. Donât panic, Iâll probably be back by the time you wake up. There are some clothes in your size hung in the closet. Make yourself at home and if you need anything and Iâm not there, just ask the maid.
You draw back the curtains and almost gasp out loud at the acres and acres of land you seem to be sitting in the midst of. Steve had told you his family owned a house in upstate New York, but this was more of a mansion. No, scratch that, it was an entire estate! With a sprawling savannah of grassy land surrounding it. Did Steveâs family really own all of this? You suddenly feel even more embarrassed about taking him to your former home yesterday. The Rogers family tool shed was probably bigger than your entire childhood home.
Speaking of the Rogers family, you gulp at the thought of meeting them. Theyâd be here, wouldnât they? His parents? You catch a glimpse of yourself in the full-length, floor-to-ceiling mirror and wince. Hair poking out in all directions, yesterdayâs makeup smudged. Eyes swollen from all the crying, lips bitten and peeling. You glance at Steve Junior, whose unwaveringly honest coal black gaze tells you all you need to know: you look like a sight for sore eyes.
Steveâs bathroom is by far the most lavish bathroom youâve seen in all your life, with its intricate marble flooring and gleaming gold taps. Itâs bigger than your entire living room back at your former home. It takes you a few minutes to figure out how to use the complicated shower, but itâs worth it when hot jets of water shoot at you from multiple directions, and you feel your muscles relax.
Haunting images from the night before flit in and out of your head. Your motherâs empty dresser, the note she had left you. Crying till your throat was hoarse, losing it outside on the patch of grass in front of the house you once called home. But you also remember Steveâs hand squeezing yours, and all the earnest promises heâd made before youâd drifted off to sleep, and you feel yourself calm down.
The sun shines through the window. Itâs a new day and youâre in a new place. Miles and miles away from your motherâs deceit and betrayal. You dry off and open the closet, examining the clothes Steve had mentioned in his text. Theyâre all brand new; leggings and hoodies and sweaters along with branded skirts, blouses and dresses. You smile, selecting a cosy, plum-coloured sweatshirt and a pair of soft black leggings.
You look at your reflection in his mirror again. Better, but your eyes are still puffy, although thereâs nothing you can do about that now. You give Steve Junior one last squeeze and kiss before propping him up in the middle of the bed and making your way out of the bedroom.
Within five minutes of exploring the mammoth house, you realise that navigating through a maze would likely be easier. You just canât wrap your head around how Steve lived in what was essentially palace, at least in your eyes. Long hallways with thick, plush carpeting â was that where heâd run around as a child? Heavy curtains adorning huge windows, majestic architecture, marble floors, structured pillars, a ginormous grand staircase that reminded you of the one in the princeâs castle in Cinderella. Thereâs even a fountain in what you assume is the lobby of the whole house â an indoor fountain! Oh, the little girl youâd once been had always dreamed of living somewhere like this. You wonder if these majestic hallways have witnessed drunken mothers and their boyfriends with leering gazes. Probably not. You doubted this sprawling estate dripping with luxury and class had ever known any type of sadness or sorrow.
After walking by several private wings and bedrooms, you find yourself in the kitchen after a few minutes of exploring. You donât want to be too nosy, but you canât help it. Everything is tastefully decorated like itâs straight out of an interior design magazine, luxurious vintage furnishings mixed with touches of modernity here and there.
As if on cue, your tummy rumbles noisily. Itâs already past noon, which means youâve definitely overslept. Your hand goes up to cup your belly. âYouâre impatient, arenât you?â You whisper, stroking your stomach before you pause. Had you just spoken to⊠the baby? Gosh, you hadnât ever done that before. In fact, there were moments where you felt disconnected from this pregnancy, as if you had yet to understand and accept what it was. It was awful to admit, but there were even moments where you forgot you were pregnant. Like yesterday at your motherâs houseâŠ
âWhy, you must be Steveâs girlfriend.â
The voice, despite how soft it is, makes you jump. You turn around hastily, coming face to face with a middle-aged woman, and her warm brown eyes instantly remind you of the picture on Steveâs desk.
His mother.
You quickly clear your throat and smile in what you hope is a dignified manner. Immediately, your hands go to straighten any wrinkles in your clothes, and all the while you inwardly curse yourself for not wearing something prettier and more appropriate.
âIâm so sorry, hello, you must beâŠâ
But your voice dies in your throat as you stare into a pale, sickly-looking face. The womanâs eyes still sparkle like the ones in the picture framed on Steveâs desk, but everything else is very different.
She looks incredibly thin and fragile, almost like sheâd break if someone folded her in half. Her skin looks tinged a sickly yellow against her pretty pink sweater with elegant pearl buttons. Her clothes are smart and expensive-looking, but they seem to hang off her weak frame. Her face is gaunt, with no sign of the healthy plumpness youâd seen in the framed picture. But despite her appearance, she shoots you a kind smile and it makes her whole face light up.
âIâm Steveâs mother, yes.â She completes, adjusting the expensive-looking silk scarf she has wrapped around her head. âI was waiting for you to come down. The chef has made a lovely breakfast for you.â
You manage to snap out of your stupor, clearing your throat before you speak.
âOh⊠uh⊠okay. Hello, Mrs. Rogers.â You introduce yourself, feeling incredibly awkward. You donât quite know how to react to what youâre seeing in front of you. Why had Steve never mentionedâŠ?
But Mrs. Rogers only smiles.
âYou can call me Sarah, please. Come, letâs sit. Iâm afraid I canât stand for too long, and you must be very hungry.â She pauses, inhaling deeply as if her words have rendered her out of breath. After a handful of seconds, she continues. âYouâll have to help me, though. If you donât mind.â
You rush to her side, grabbing her frail arm gently and allowing her to rest her weight on you. Her weight which is next to non-existent. It feels like youâre holding a doll. But she leads you to the lavish living room, where thereâs an elaborate breakfast spread out on the ornate coffee table.
There are French omelettes and cheesy scrambled eggs and sunny side ups with deep orange yolks. A large pitcher of orange juice with ice, a pot of coffee and a crystal carafe of water. And that wasnât even half of it â there were stacks of pancakes with knobs of butter and maple syrup dripping down them, and golden waffles with a variety of toppings including fresh berries and cream. Toast cut into elegant triangles, steaming bowls of oats with honey and nuts, and some English muffins with a jar of what looks to be homemade jam next to it.Â
You gulp as you help seat Mrs. Rogers down, the aroma of the food tingling inside your nostrils and making your mouth water and tummy rumble embarrassingly once more. Mrs. Rogers â Sarah â laughs, motioning for you to take a seat on the sofa adjacent to the armchair sheâs sitting on.
âPlease eat, darling.â
Youâre too hungry to argue, grabbing a plate and a piece of toast. But Steveâs mother huffs, loading your plate with a bit of everything, until itâs heaving in your hands. You politely take a bite, wondering if thereâs an elegant way to eat when all you really want to is shovel this food down your throat. But you try to be graceful, acutely aware of Mrs. Rogers beaming at you as you do.
âIâm so happy to finally meet the girl Steve has been so smitten over.â She gushes, âItâs about time I met a girlfriend of his, and youâre the first one heâs ever brought home.â
âReally?â
âOf course. He talks about you all the time.â
That makes you pause, and you swallow a bite of pancake before looking up at her. âSteve talked about me with you?â You whisper, the shock clearly evident in your tone.
You think back to the whirlwind two months youâve been with Steve. Heâd mentioned his parents a few times, but always as a collective, and heâd never given any details (You hadnât pressed him because you were shy and also because itâs not like you were particularly forthcoming with details about your own parents). Heâd certainly never mentioned that his mother was sick⊠and youâd never heard him talk to her on the phone or anything. Heâd probably done it in private.
âYes, through calls and emails.â Mrs. Rogers smiles, taking a delicately small sip of water, and your eyes linger on her frail hand as it shakes. âWhen he first went away for college, he used to come home to visit every other weekend. Not so much anymore, but I understand that heâs busy.â She shakes her head sadly before letting out a chuckle, âI suspect heâs scared to see me in person, considering my current state.â
Your heart sinks. Oh gosh, how had Steve kept something so big from you? How had it never come up?
Mrs. Rogers clears her throat, âEnough about me, my darling. Please, continue eating.â She pauses, either to catch her breath or to wait until you take another bite of food, which you do. âEven if he doesnât come home as often as he used to, I still call him every week to keep up with his life, and Iâll admit I was shocked when he told me heâd bonded with someone. I told him it was impulsive, that you two were too young. But Iâm the last one to question young love.â
Sheâs silent as she looks at you almost curiously. You canât hold eye contact with her long, so you just keep your smile up before it eventually fades away, and you look down helplessly. Perhaps she was now seeing all the flaws in you as they surfaced before her eyes now that the two of you were past pleasantries. Flaws and shortcomings that had made your own mother leave you, now Steveâs mother would see them too.
And the images flit back into your head again, your motherâs empty dresser, the note sheâd left you, the nonchalance with which sheâd exited your life. You feel your lower lip wobble and tears well in your eyes. Oh no, donât do this here! Not in front of Steveâs mom! Donât do it, donât do it, donât do it!
Mrs. Rogers is stronger than she looks, because before you know whatâs happening, she draws you into a hug that is surprisingly tight. Youâre rigid in her arms for a second, not knowing how to react. Why was she hugging you? This was weird⊠Youâd never really hugged anyone before, apart from Steve and Peter â but that was different.
It only takes you a few seconds before you sag in her arms. And then the tears wonât stop, and itâs crazy! How could you be crying in the arms of a woman whose problems were so evidently larger than your own? Because at least you had your health! But it feels so alien, how gentle sheâs being. How she strokes your hair and whispers âthere, there,â to you soothingly. Â
âIâm sorry, this is so inappropriate of meâŠI just met youâŠâ You apologise between tears, but she just shushes you.
âDonât worry, darling. I can tell that youâve been through a lot and thereâs a lot on your mind.â She strokes your hair out of your face and she gives you a reassuring smile. âIs my son the reason for your tears? I know he can be a bit⊠controlling. He gets that from his father.â
You sniffle, about to shake your head but she cuts you off, her tone shifting from gentle to serious.
âNow, you listen to me. If my son has you feeling trapped in any way, shape or form, just know that there are ways to get out.â She fishes an embroidered linen out of the pocket of her cardigan and dabs at your tears in a manner that seems so motherly that you canât help but burst into tears again. âWe omegas arenât as weak as they think we are, and there is always a way for us to flourish, whether thatâs with an alpha or without one.â
âIâŠIâŠâ you try to say something, anything, but all you can do is stutter and cry some more. And itâs embarrassing to a degree, because havenât you cried enough? And arenât your problems so trivial compared to hers?
Finally, you shake your head, clutching the pretty embroidered linen as if itâs a treasured family heirloom that sheâs bestowed upon you, and not just something sheâs given you to wipe your tears with. âN-No, Mrs. Rogers. Itâs not like that⊠Well, at least not anymore. Steve wasnât so nice to me at first, but now I want to be with him.â
Want to or need to? The shadowy voice inside your head mocks, but you force it away quickly.
âThatâs good to hear. And for what itâs worth, I think you and Steve make a beautiful couple.â She pauses, doing that thing again where she needs a few seconds to regain her breath. You wonder vaguely if sheâs in pain, but the thought is too depressing for you to linger on.
âIs it the baby?â She whispers suddenly, and her words jolt you upright.
âHow do you know about theâŠ?â
Her eyes twinkle, âWell, you just confirmed it, darling. And I confess that I could smell it on you. Pregnant omegas have a subtly different scent, I learnt all about that when I worked as a midwife before I got married.â
Youâre stunned, but you manage to nod slowly, âYes, I only found out a few weeks ago.â
A peculiar look crosses Mrs. Rogersâ face in that moment. Budding excitement makes her smile widely, her beautiful brown eyes lighting up her entire face and taking away that sickly gauntness for a second. Just a second, before something inside her dims, and her smile dampens, as if thereâs a ticking time bomb behind her eyes that wonât allow her to get too excited.
âI do hope Iâm still here whenâŠâ She looks somewhere beyond your shoulder, her eyes shining wetly before she takes out another embroidered handkerchief and dabs at them. âWell anyways, thatâs wonderful news, my darling, just so wonderful. I was about your age when I had Steve.â
âYou were?â
âYes. Of course, I wasnât at college but I was working as a mid-wife when I met Steveâs father and we fell in love.â She pauses, either to reflect on fond memories or to catch her breath. If youâre honest, she looks slightly tired and worn out, as if merely speaking is taking a toll on her and yet she continues because she has to get it all out. âWe were married within two months of knowing each other. Of course, I had to leave my job, and I got pregnant that very year. Oh, what an exciting time it wasâŠâ
She was definitely reflecting now, and you take a moment to reflect as well. Would you also have to leave college and any prospect of a job now that you were pregnant and had agreed to marry Steve?
âWhere is Mr. Rogers now?â You ask, trying not to think too hard about all your current worries.
âOh, heâs on one of his business trips.â She chuckles, âHe wanted to take time off work when we found out I was sick, but I wouldnât hear it. I just wanted things to carry on as normal, and thatâs also what I told Steve last summer when I first found out.â
You nod slowly, trying to take in all the information youâve just been bombarded with. And oh, you donât know how to feel! Youâve just met this woman and yet you wish youâd known her longer.
âMom? Why are you out of bed? Youâre supposed to be resting!â
You jump at the sound of Steveâs voice, turning around when you sense him at the doorway. As your eyes land on his familiar frame, your heart skips a beat and you jump once more â but for a different reasonâŠ
âSteven Grant Rogers, what have you done to your beautiful hair?â Mrs. Rogers cries out, dramatically holding her hand up to her heart.
Steveâs blonde hair, which had grown longer in the past two months, is now sporting a buzzcut. His light blonde tufts which had even begun to curl up against his collar, now cropped down close to his head. The new hairstyle, paired with his growing facial hair, makes him look so starkly different from the clean-cut alpha youâd grown used to. Not bad different, just different.
Steve runs a hand through his hair (or whatâs left of it), âItâs just a haircut, mom. Whereâs your nurse?â
âBut why? Oh, Stevie, is that where you went off to so early in the morning? To the barber? Darling, you could have just asked me to give you a trim, like how I used to!â
âItâll grow back, mom, please donât be so dramatic. Now whereâs that nurse of yours?â
âNever mind the nurse, Steve. Youâre about to be a father, for heavenâs sake! You cannot go around looking like a troublemaking hoodlum with that haircut!â
âI do not look like a troublemakingââ Steve cuts himself off, looking from you to his mother, âYou know about theâŠ?â
âYour baby? Yes, Steven. Your girlfriend and I had a nice long chat before you arrived to shock us with your appalling haircut.â
Steve sits down next to you, taking your hand into his and giving it a squeeze. You instinctively offer him a bite of your pancake, which he accepts, shooting you a small smile as he chews. And it makes your heart all fuzzy, because itâs still him, with his pretty blue eyes and long lashes and full lips. Itâs still Steve, just with shorter hair.
âHow are you feeling?â He asks you softly, and you give him a small, affirming nod.
His gaze shifts from you to his mother, and you see his face soften even more, âMom, I told you Iâd bring her to your room to meet you. The doctor said you need to restââ
Mrs. Rogers bats her hand dismissively, âIâve rested enough, Steve.â
âWhereâs your nurse?â
âOh, her? I sent her home.â Mrs. Rogers says proudly.
âWhat? Mom, you canât do that. The nurse is here for a reason!â
âYes, and I felt it pointless to keep her here when Iâm perfectly capable of taking care of myself. She looked terribly bored anyways, and so I gave her the rest of the day off. And look, Iâm perfectly fine despite her not being here.â
Mrs. Rogers doesnât look perfectly fine. In fact, she already looks more tired and worn out in the few minutes since youâve spoken to her. But seeing the stubborn resilience on her face makes your heart sink. You donât know how, but you know exactly what sheâs doing. Staying strong, pretending to be brave⊠For Steve. Itâs a maternal thing, you realise â and you donât know how youâve come to this conclusion because itâs not like your own mother ever demonstrated this type of behaviour â but you just know.
âHow are you going to get better if you donât do what the doctor tells you to?â He demands, and you see Mrs. Rogers sigh, casting an almost pitiful look at her son.
Steve goes over to help his mother to her feet. And itâs sad to watch, but also fascinating. This is a dynamic that youâve never seen him in, being so tender with his mother that it touches your heart. And thereâs such genuine love in Mrs. Rogersâ eyes, despite how she huffs at his haircut and bats his hands away before eventually accepting them. She stands up, leaning heavily against him.
âWell, I guess I should rest a bit more.â She contemplates, shooting you a wink, âIâm sure you two want some alone time. I remember how it was back in the day, when Steveâs father and myself were freshly mated. Oh, you wouldnât believe how much weââ
Steve wrinkles his nose, âMom, please donât finish that sentence.â
You giggle, and Mrs. Rogers gives you one final smile. And itâs wondrous how her smile seems to bring a glimpse of her youth and health back to her face, albeit fleetingly. Your heart hurts for her, but you also feel a sense of awe and admiration at how regally she holds herself, with pride in every step she takes and kindness in every word sheâd spoken.
âDarling, please come into my room whenever you feel like it. I have many stories to tell you, and plenty are about Steve.â
You nod, also getting to your feet. âI would love to hear them.â
âAnd Iâm sure you have a lot to tell me too. I know how stubborn my son gets ââ
âMom!â
ââand I know heâd love to keep you all to himself, but I would love to get to know you better too.â
You watch as Steve leads her away. She pauses when a sudden, wracking coughing spell makes her lean more heavily against her son. Steve freezes, watching as his mother coughs into her handkerchief. You see a flash of red on the white linen before she neatly tucks it into her pocket and clears her throat. Itâs only when her coughing resides and she smiles up at Steve reassuringly, that the alpha seems to relax.
âItâs probably just a delayed reaction to your hair.â She jokes weakly, and Steve rolls his eyes before taking her to her room.
You sit alone, making a mental promise to go to Mrs. Rogersâ room at least once a day for as long as you were staying here.
âSteve, why did you never tell me about your mother?â You ask a few minutes later once he returns to the living room.
He blinks, âSheâs fine.â
âB-But why didnât you mention that sheâs sick?â
âSheâs fine.â Steve repeats, âSheâs going to be fine, okay? Thatâs what my dad says.â
Youâd only ever known Steve to be brave, because werenât all alphas brave? You never knew him to fear anything, and yet right now it was plain as day â the fear and uncertainty glimmering in his eyes for just a moment before he blinks it all away.
âThatâs where he is right now,â Steve continues, speaking fast as if to reassure himself and not just you, âMy dad. Heâs meeting with all the best doctors in the country, and theyâll fix her up easily. Thatâs exactly what he said, and we have all the money in the world to pay for any treatment or drug or surgery. So thereâs no point in worrying about anything, omega. Sheâll be fine.â
You feel a surge of pity as you watch him nod reassuringly to himself, and you clasp his hand with both of yours.
âSteve, sheââ
âSheâs fine, omega.â Steve says for the umpteenth time, and you see that glimmer in his eye again, that almost desperate little glint. A warning bell, or a silent cry for you to drop it. âSheâs always been fine, okay? Sheâs always been healthy and active and all of that, so this doesnât really mean anything, and you shouldnât worry about it because itâll go away soon and sheâll get better.â
You nod, not saying anything more. Instead, you hesitantly wind your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug. You rarely initiate intimacy with him â despite the fact that you crave it so much. Your shyness has always halted you in the past, stopped you from kissing him or hugging him first despite the fact that it was often the only thing on your mind. Youâd always wait for Steve to initiate and then follow his lead.
But something had changed between the two of you. Was it in the football field, when heâd professed his love? Was it when heâd walked away from harming Peter? Or was it during the long car journey yesterday, where slowly but surely, youâd let your walls down around him and actually spoken to him. It felt like the first two months of your relationship had been a tumultuous rollercoaster filled with hurt, lies, pain and anguish â along with fiery passion and an intense need for each other. The latter two were still present now, but there seemed to be a deeper understanding that wasnât there before.
In the span of the past two days, youâd seen sides to him that youâd never seen before. His panic attack after heâd walked away from the fight with Peter, his laidback demeanour during the drive to your hometown. How heâd consoled you after everything that happened last night, and the desperate way in which heâd begged you to stay with him, to not go back to that dark place within yourself. And you? Heâd seen you at the lowest of low you could have possibly felt: crying at the foot of your childhood home that no longer was. And youâd asked yourself: where do we go from here?
Steve was changed, and so were you. And that shyness that you felt before, it isnât all that consuming now as you hug him close, and kiss his cheek.
âSheâs lovely, Steve.â You whisper honestly, shooting him a reassuring smile.
âSheâll be fine.â He says, again more to himself than to you. And all you can do is nod as he holds you close, before tipping your head up and pressing your lips against his. And your body shudders in his arms, having missed him this close to you. He returns your kiss feverishly, his big hands rubbing up and down your back in a way that makes you both sigh. Silently, he grabs your hand and leads you back to his bedroom, which is just as well, because this mansion was so massive, youâd have probably got lost trying to find your own way back.
âI booked us an ultrasound appointment for later this week.â He says, and you blink. Oh, right. The baby. Between marriage proposals and fights and road trips and disappearing mothers and mothers with illnesses, youâd once again put your pregnancy to the very back of your mind.
âOh. Okay.â You arenât sure what else to say.
Steve clears his throat, leading you over to his bed. He sits down and pulls you into his lap, âYeah. Youâve had a tough few days and I thought we should get everything checked out. We donât even know how far along you are.â
You donât say anything, instead just cuddling up to him even more. Now, with your newfound comfort in initiating kisses, you canât help but press your lips against his again. You just want to feel him, and feel something that isnât dread. This morning when youâd woken up, youâd pushed all the bad memories of yesterday aside. But now, they were all coming back. Like sticky, black tar staining the inside of your head, and an evil voice laughing and mocking youâŠ
âBaby,â Steve breathes, slightly pulling back, âHow are you feeling?â
Donât think about it, donât think about it, donât think about it. Thatâs what your mind keeps chanting, desperately trying to erase the picture of your motherâs empty dresser, and her note which you had ripped to shreds. Why did your fingers itch for that note now? Your motherâs parting words to you⊠maybe you should have kept them safeâŠ
âYour hairâs all prickly now.â You blurt out.
Steve frowns, but he seems to understand that you donât want to talk about your mother. âYou hate it too, huh?â
âNo, itâs just different.â You card your fingers through his buzzcut as best you can, scratching at his scalp lightly and it makes him sigh and relax under you. He grabs your other hand, the one thatâs not in his hair, and squeezes it in his larger one before bringing it up to his lips. He kisses each of your fingertips, the act so intimate that it sends sparks up your spine. âItâs different, but itâs still you.â
He nods, âI just felt like I needed a change.â
You watch him as he plays with your fingers, his other hand grabbing the back of your neck and tugging you down till youâre lying on top of him, your cheek against his chest. Snuggling up cosily, you listen to his heartbeat, the steady drumming cleansing your mind and making you sigh in relief.
âYou look so different compared to the first time I saw you.â You say absentmindedly, thinking back to the clean-cut alpha who had bullied you so horribly those first few months of freshman year.
âWell, Iâm not like that anymore, okay? Like I said before, Iâll be different now.â
I hope, I hope, I hope! You think, wanting so badly to believe that⊠but all you can do is give him a weak smile in return.
*
The days go by quickly at the Rogersâ household. Itâs the end of college and the start of summer, but you donât know how you feel about that. Itâs difficult to open up about everything surrounding your mother. A small part of you still wants to call her or leave her a text, but thereâs also a part of you that wants to delete her number altogether. But you canât bring yourself to do it, and Steve, despite wanting you to open up to him, doesnât press you to do it.
It's comical, in a way. You wonât open up about your mother leaving you, and he wonât open up about his mother being sick. So depressingly sad that itâs comical.
You try and distract yourself from your feelings by exploring the mansion some more. Steve gives you a tour, explaining all the different wings the house has. The east wing, the west wing, the north wing, the south wing â gosh, youâd never stepped foot inside a house so big that it had four separate wings filled with a dozen rooms each. And Steve had grown up here, so it was all normal to him, but you could see the look of amusement in his eyes. As if he got a kick out of you being so entranced by the riches in front of you.
With your hand firmly held in his, heâd shown you the pools (yes, plural), and the indoor cinema (bigger and better than any real cinemas youâd been to) and the tennis courts. Your favourite was by far the ballroom, this gigantic room that seemed to stretch for acres, with shiny marble flooring and vintage chandeliers that held real wax candles.
âOh, itâs just like a fairytaleâŠâ you breathe.
Steve smirks, âMy parents used to hold galas in here, but I always thought they were stuffy and boring. Theyâd force me to come, but me and Bucky would always sneak out and go play videogames or smoke weed.â
You bristle when he mentions Bucky, but soon forget as Steve leads you to another room. Itâs a library, and itâs bigger than any youâve seen before. Bigger than the public library in town and even bigger than the university library on campus. Shelves upon shelves filled with books of all sorts, and oh, you could spend an eternity in here!
âI knew youâd like this room the best.â Steve says, âSome of the books in here are so old, theyâre falling apart. But I guess thatâs the charm of itâŠâ
Steve tells you that you can use the library whenever you want. In fact, he says you can use the pool, the tennis courts, the cinema, all of it⊠âItâs your house as much as it is mine,â he says, but you have a hard time accepting that something so big could ever be yours. Itâs all a bit much to take in, going from crying on a patch of dried grass a few nights ago to a plethora of riches surrounding you today. But you nod graciously, liking this relaxed and laid-back side of him which you were slowly getting used to seeing.
But itâs when heâs gone that you feel yourself beginning to unravel. Itâs when he goes out to the gym or for a run or to his fatherâs company office, thatâs when you feel yourself breaking down from the inside out. You find yourself calling him, texting him, begging him to come back so you donât have to be alone with your thoughts. And he does come back every time, and he hugs you, and then you feel okay again.
Steveâs mother is also a calming presence for you, despite the fact that itâs only been three days since you met her. She has a nurturing quality that you find yourself gravitating towards. Sometimes, when Steve is gone, you go to her room to keep her company. (Or rather, she keeps you company).
She tells you stories about Steve as a child (âHe wasnât always so big and imposing! Oh no, my Stevie was a late bloomer, but he doesnât want me telling anyone that!â) and about her days as a midwife (âIt was rewarding work. I was sad to leave it behind but I knew that being a mother was more important to me than any other job.â) She also tells you about Steveâs father (âHe used to be a lot like Steve, very impatient and hot-headed. But heâs mellowed out a lot now, and heâs the love of my life. I wish heâd hurry up and come home, because heâs been dying to meet you too, and I miss him.â)
She also tells you about how she wishes sheâd had a bigger hand in raising Steve. She tells you sheâd been exceptionally close to him when he was a child, taking him out to tend her flower garden with her, nurturing his talent for drawing and painting, even teaching him how to sew. But once heâd entered middle school, his father had taken over, wanting to properly teach him how to be an alpha and the man of the family. She said that her and Steve were still close, though, and she liked how he was becoming more sensitive because of you.
You love listening to her speak, and sometimes, even if itâs for just a few fleeting moments, you imagine how your life wouldâve been like if she had been your mother. With her soft and caring nature, the way she was so inviting and kind, the way she held your hand and squeezed it, the way she was so forthcoming with her hugs. But then you blink those thoughts away, because a part of you feels like youâre betraying your real mother. The one who had betrayed you by leavingâŠ
On one of your visits to her bedroom, Mrs. Rogers looks at you with a bittersweet smile on her face, âYouâre a very good person, you know that?â She says, and you blink, taken aback by the sudden compliment. She pats your hand, âYou visit my room more than my own son does, but I know heâs just afraid of the cancer taking his mother away from him, and he doesnât know how to deal with thatâŠâ
You feel a pang of hurt in your heart, both for her and for Steve, but she continues speaking before you can say anything.
âIt takes an especially brave woman to deal with someone as stubborn as my son, let alone change him into a better person, and you have done both.â She stops, taking a sip of water from the glass on her bedside table. âBut donât let him dim your shine. I know how hard it is for young omegas like yourself, who feel compelled by their own biology to do whatever their alphas want them to.â
You look down to your lap, not knowing what to say.
âMy son is so in love with you, my darling, that itâs truly you who holds him in the palm of your hand, and not the other way around â as hard as that may be for you to believe. Itâs the way he looks at you, how his eyes follow you no matter who else is in the room. It reminds me of how my husband looks at me.â
You look up to meet her gaze, and her eyes are shining again, in that special way that makes her look so youthful and full of life. Sheâs in a yellow cardigan set today, with a yellow rose brooch on her breast.
âWhat Iâm trying to say is, you have no idea the power you hold over him. So, stand your ground and keep your chin up. He can be demanding, but donât give in to him so easily. Because if thereâs anyone who can make him do anything, itâs you. Youâre an omega, but that doesnât mean you arenât strong and smart and resilient. Remember that.â
Youâre unconvinced, but you tell her that youâll try your hardest to do just that.
*
But you still can never be left alone with your thoughts for too long. Steve is constantly by your side, but itâs the worst when he isnât. Like now, as you sit on the edge of the bed and wait for him to come out of the shower despite the fact that heâs just gone into the bathroom. But the dark voice in your head is reappearing, forcing you to relive your motherâs betrayal, taunting you about who will leave you next.
Before you know it, youâre stumbling into the bathroom, thanking your lucky stars that Steve hasnât locked the door. Heâs inside the shower, and you meet his gaze with a half sheepish and half desperate look on your face.
âCould I⊠uh⊠would it be okay if I joined you?â Your words come out rushed and knocking into each other. You bite your lip, shifting from one foot to the other and heart thudding with nervousness that heâd reject you or laugh. Itâs still your default to feel that way, even after everything, and you wonder if youâll ever unlearn it.
Steve draws back the shower curtain and beckons you inside. You sigh in relief, wanting to be in his arms more than anything else. Your clothes are shed quickly, and you step into the steam-filled shower and straight into his crushing embrace. The water cascades over you, so warm as you bury your face in his chest. Heâs so warm, so familiar, so him. You inhale as deep as your lungs allow, his scent rushing past your nostrils and through your system, calming you from the inside out.
âHow are you feeling, baby?â He asks, twining your hair around his finger.
You swallow harshly, digging your face deeper into his chest as you try to block that evil voice out, âI donât know.â
You know you should answer him properly, you know you should talk about it, let it all out. Instead, you grab the bottle of shampoo and squeeze some out. Itâs Steveâs shampoo â a 5-in-1 concoction that youâd never use on your own hair. But you lather it on your palm and reach up timidly.
Steve seems to understand what youâre trying to do and ducks his head down, sighing raggedly when your fingers card through his short hair which looks so dark now that itâs wet. And itâs nice, itâs calming, to have something to focus on. His hair is bristly yet still soft, and he inhales sharply when your nails scrape gently against his scalp. He hoists you up into his arms, holding you up against the wall so you have a better reach. He presses his face into the nape of your neck, placing soft kisses on your skin as you continue to wash his hair.
âPlease, just tell me what youâre feeling.â He murmurs, holding you close.
You swallow harshly, âI just⊠It hurts, Steve. It hurts a lot. And Iâm trying not to think about it because I feel like Iâll break down if I do.â As if on cue, your voice breaks, and you feel the tears rushing forward again, but youâre happy that the water from the shower washes them away. And Steveâs closeness seems to hold you together, and you clear your throat. âI knew we werenât close but⊠But I didnât think she hated me so much that sheâd just leave.â
âI donât think she hates you.â Steve says after a few beats of silence, as if heâs really trying to think of the right thing to say. âNobody could hate you. I think sheâs a terribly selfish person, but I donât think she hates you.â
âBut it still hurts so bad.â
He hugs you fiercely, whispering âI know, I knowâ while you stare morosely at the bathroom tiles.
âWhat if I become like her?â You whisper, and the choked words are almost lost against the pitter-patter of the water. Subconsciously, your hand slips up to rest against your stomach, âWhat if I⊠What if Iâm just like her, and I donât care about my baby either?â
âThatâs not possible.â
âBut what if I do? Steve, sometimes I⊠sometimes I forget that Iâm even pregnant.â You look down in shame, your whole body shaking as you voice this fear that you hadnât even realised you had until you said it out loud. âI knew I was pregnant for weeks before I told you, but I just pushed it aside. And even now, itâs like Iâll just forget, and then youâll mention it or your mom will mention it and all of a sudden, Iâll remember that thereâs a baby inside of me, and itâs scary and how can I just forget, Steve? Thatâs not normal, and what if Iâm a bad mother, andââ
âHey, hey, hey, stop it.â Steve shushes you gently, with pillow-soft kisses pressed all over your face and lips. He cups your face in his hands, âLook at me. You wonât be like her, okay? The fact that youâre even worrying about this shows that you could never be a bad mother.â
âButâŠâ
He clears his throat, âYouâre the most caring person Iâve ever met. You care even when you donât realise it. I see it all the time, and before I just couldnât wrap my head around it. How someone could possibly be so good, so pure, you know?â
You duck your head, but he grabs your chin and makes you look at him. Thereâs water and steam all around you both, distorting your view somewhat. But his eyes are crystal clear and earnest, so sharp as they cut through the steam wafting between the two of you. So honest, that it makes you dizzy, because youâre not used to his eyes ever looking so honest.
âI know our child is going to be the most loved child in the world, because itâll be yours.â
âButââ
âYou wonât be like how your mother was, because youâre you. And youâre the best person Iâve ever met.âÂ
Often, for as long as youâd known him, Steve was able to use his words to paint the most beautiful pictures inside your head. False promises and sweet manipulations fuelled by his intoxicating scent and designed to control you and mould the way you thought. Designed to weaken your defences and accept his lies and fabrications. And every time you fell for it; hook, line and sinker.
But the confident easiness on his face each time he lied to you in the past, was now replaced by a look of earnesty. Subtle changes like the softness of his tone, how heâd stop and think about the words he was saying to you. Had he changed? Steve Rogers, the formidable alpha who had bullied and manipulated you beyond belief. Was he changed? Was this really him?
âDo you really want to be a father?â You blurt out, almost scared to ask the question, almost scared to hear the answer. âIâŠI mean, not just because youâre an alpha and you have this whole plan.â
He frowns, âWhat do you mean?â
âI meanâŠâ You gulp, âI mean, is it all just for show? You always said you had a plan for your life, and how it included me as the mother of your kids. I-Is it just for show? Or will you actually care for this baby?â And not leave if itâs not what you want?
His fingers, which know each crevice of your body so well, run up and down your sides before his hand splays out on your tummy. And you crane your neck to look up at him, and it takes your breath away, the tenderness you see on a face thatâs usually so hard and impenetrable.
âEvery time I think about the fact that youâre pregnant and weâre going to have a baby soon, I get excited. And nervous. I guess thatâs how I know that this is what I really want.â
He cups your face in his hands, âEven if we never had kids, youâd still be my purpose and Iâd still be content. But now that our babyâs in the picture, I know Iâm accountable to both of you, and I want to be. You complete me, baby. I promise Iâm done fucking around.â
âH-How are you saying all this now? When before you⊠When before you never did?â
He stares at you for what feels like years, this impenetrable look on his face.
âYou told me you wanted to die.â
Your eyes widen and you duck your head, but he makes you look at him once more.
âThe night we left your motherâs house, you told me you wanted to die. And I fucking couldnât stand the look on your face, like you had no hope or happiness left inside you.â
âB-But that was because of my mom, not youâŠâ
âIt might as well have been because of me. I know your mom hurt you, but so did I. You had already gone through so much when we met, and all I did was make your life even worse.â He sucks in a breath, swiping water droplets off your face and cupping your cheek, so you canât look away even if you wanted to.
âI used to be obsessed with my momâs flower garden when I was younger. Iâd always pluck the flowers because I wanted them to be mine, but theyâd always wilt and die.â He kisses you, desperately, roughly, as he whispers against your lips, âI donât want you to die, okay? I donât want to lose you. And even if youâre physically here but emotionally gone⊠I think Iâd lose it. And I canât lose it, so I need to be better.â
You surge up and kiss him back doubly hard, your arms winding around his neck and drawing him closer, closer, closer till you both canât breathe from the rapid, feverish kisses. Wasnât this what youâd been subconsciously wanting from him since the very beginning? Despite everything, youâd had a crush on him since the start, and how badly youâd wanted him to like you. How badly youâd wanted him to change once heâd claimed you. How badly youâd wanted him to be your knight in shining armour, the gallant prince like from all the fairytales youâd read growing up. Instead, heâd been hurtful and manipulative. But now? Oh, he was saying what youâd always wanted him to say!
âIâm not gonna die, Steve. I promise, Iâm right here.â
His dick slips inside you before you even realise it, but you welcome the slight discomfort of his large member easing its way up your hole. He hoists you up higher, pressing your legs further apart so he can drive himself deeper into you. In turn, you wrap your legs around his waist as you both moan into each otherâs mouths when he bottoms out inside of you.
âYou missed my dick?â He asks you in your ear, and you can feel the smile on his lips, his usual cockiness returning slowly, as if he canât help himself.
âY-Yeah.â You answer, despite the fact that youâd last had sex with him only a few days ago after the big game. But it felt like youâd lived an eternity since then, and you wanted him all the time.
âYeah? You missed how I stretch your little baby pussy out?â
âYes!â
He sighs, âGood. I missed being inside you.â
He ruts against you, and you have a feeling heâs trying to be slow and sensual but itâs like he canât help but quicken his pace. You donât mind, though. Itâs like you need him fucking you to clear your mind of all your worries.
âYouâre so tight, baby,â he grunts before pressing his forehead against yours, holding your body with just one muscular arm, while his other hand slips down to press against your clit. âSo tiny and tight, baby omega. Tell me, does my dick feel good?â
âYes, daddy,â you sigh, head lolling to the side at the feel of his huge member sliding in and out of you, the friction so delicious, not to mention the sparks of hot pleasure from him playing with your clit. You gasp when his mouth moves to hover over his mark on your neck, and he tongues your mating gland in a way that has you spasming in his arms.
âDaddy wants to eat your pussy so bad, baby girl.â He murmurs suddenly into your neck, making your eyes pop open in shock. You walls flutter around him violently, swallowing his dick in as you grind closer, so utterly turned on by his words. The way heâd gone from earnest declarations of love to âdaddy wants to eat your pussyâ was admittedly funny, although the last thing youâre compelled to do right now is laugh. Youâre way too turned on to laugh.
âPlease,â you utter when he goes to pull out of you, grabbing his arm, âWant you to stay inside me, daddy.â
He canât help but smirk, âLet me make you feel good.â
He sets you down before getting on his knees in front of you. He takes one of your legs, hooking it over his shoulder so your bare pussy is on display for him. Carnally, he licks his lips, and your hands immediately go down to fist his hair. Itâs buzzed off, but you make do. You have no choice, because he chooses that moment to wrap his lips around your clit, sucking down harshly.
âOh, fuck!â You whimper, clutching at his short hair.
âSuch a good little girl,â Steve says, voice muffled but itâs like the two of you are in a bubble so you can still hear him loud and clear. âSuch a good little baby omega, always so good to me arenât you, baby?â
He slaps your pussy lightly, a glimmer in his eye as he watches you spasm in his arms. Heâs got one hand gripping your thigh tightly as it rests on his shoulder, the other holding your hip firmly so you donât topple over (which is very likely given the intense amounts of pleasure youâre already feeling).
âAnswer me, baby. I need to hear you.â Steve slaps your pussy again, the squelching sound so lewd as your wetness seeps down your thighs. You let out a choked whisper of his name, looking down at him pleadingly but all he does is slap your pussy again, this time squarely catching your clit and making you scream.
âOh, ohâdaddy!â
Steveâs tongue licks up your slit, lapping at your wetness while his hands roam your wet body. Slipping up to squeeze your breasts and play with your hard nipples, twisting them till theyâre bruising with pain. But oh, you donât even care! Your body feels like itâs floating in waves of pleasure administered by him. He grabs your hand and squeezes it, the act so intimate compared to the way heâs lewdly making out with your pussy, and you feel your heart flutter.
He keeps holding your hand, and you stare at your intertwined fingers till they blur your vision. Or maybe itâs Steve sucking on your clit that blurs your vision, his tongue circling around your bundle of nerves, making you so sensitive and bringing you closer and closer to the edge.
And heâs watching you the whole time, watching as you buck your hips into his mouth like you canât help it. Watching as you cry at the pleasure, clutch at him and squeeze his hand back, and you hold his gaze as best you can. Could he also feel like the two of you were in some sort of impenetrable bubble? Like youâd gone through hell and back and now nothing could touch you or hurt you or interrupt what the two of you had?
âYouâre so beautiful,â Steve says quietly, except itâs amplified in your ears. You donât know if you believe him but his eyes are earnest and shining. Youâre automatically about to tell him thank you, except he chooses that moment to press three fingers inside of you, making your knees buckle. But he has a firm hold on you, keeping you in place and pressing kisses all over your hips and thighs before returning his attention to your clit. âSo, so beautiful, baby. The most beautiful person Iâve ever seen, and guess what?â
âWh-What?â you breathe, peering down at him in a mix of awe and lust.
He smirks, âYour little baby pussyâs pretty too. But I wonder if she can take three of daddyâs fingers?â
Of course. Maybe you should grow used to the way heâs seamlessly shifting from romantic to lewd, and youâre even about to crack a smile at how comical his switches are. But instead, you squeak, eyes widening and a cry dying in your throat as he begins to fuck you with his thick fingers. Your walls are snug around his digits, and it burns because his fingers are so big and thick. But you donât care, donât care at all! Especially when he brushes that spot inside you that only he could ever find, making you fall forward till he catches you, and youâre whimpering and meeting his thrusts.
âMmm, what a greedy little pussy, sheâs just crying for her daddy, isnât she?â Steve smiles wickedly, now lazily licking at your clit while he peers down at his fingers entering you at a rapid pace. âFuck yourself on my fingers, baby. Let me make you cum.â
You donât need to be told twice, your hips already bucking wildly, wanting his fingers to go deeper. And theyâre so big and it hurts so good and yet you want his dick back inside you, which is even bigger. âS-So good, daddy,â you whimper, your body shuddering over how badly you needed this. All the pent-up sorrow, stress, anger from the past few days was all building up and ready to be released.
âRub your little baby cunt on daddyâs face, omega.â Steve orders you, his voice so deep with lust. Of course, youâre too shy to do that but itâs like he anticipated that. And so he grabs your hips, grinding your pussy all over his face. And you gasp audibly, because he hasnât shaved for a few days now and his stubble is so deliciously rough. The sensation is new, itâs different but you canât say you donât love it. And itâs like Steveâs forgotten about breathing, clutching your ass from behind and squeezing your ass cheeks as he pushes you closer into his face. Your pussy is effectively smothering his face, and you feel his nose nudge against your clit, and his fingers quicken in pace, so deep, so good, andâŠ
You squirt all over his face. And it surprises you how it just wonât stop, your cream squirting out of you at an alarming rate, leaving a thin glaze on his face and catching on his stubble. And he laps at your cunt freely, coaxing your orgasm out of you while you quiver, your knees buckling again. Youâre in a standing position â barely â but you can barely feel your legs and you know heâs holding you up otherwise youâd be on the floor right now.
âThatâs such a good baby,â Steve coos, tonguing your pussy as it spasms, fingers still fucking into you, âCumming so nicely for daddy, doing exactly what youâre told to do. You like making daddy happy like that, donât you, baby omega?â
âY-Yeah, daddy,â you pant, barely able to breathe let alone hold a dirty conversation right now.
In a second, Steveâs on his feet once more, and heâs got you up in his arms again. Your limbs feel useless, legs hanging as he hoists you up against the wall. But you jolt back into alertness when he pistons his dick inside of you, catching you by surprise. You whimper his name, nails already clawing at his back because itâs too much, your body still recovering from your orgasm. But the feeling is a good kind of overwhelming, as if you canât get enough of him despite your body twitching in oversensitivity.
You bite your lip, focusing on his arm as it holds you in place against the wall. God, he was so big, every inch of him rippling with solid muscle. And it was such a turn on, how easily he held you up with just his one arm, the other one holding your hip in place while he drove his dick inside you again and again.
âYouâre so big and strong,â you blurt out before your eyes widen in alarm at your slip, and you duck your head embarrassedly.
Steve groans, and you feel his dick twitch inside you before he increases his pace slightly. âFuck, baby, Iâm trying to go easy on you. But when you say things like that, it makes me want to lose control.â
âDo it,â you urge him, feeling extremely submissive, âPlease, daddy, fuck me hard.â
Steve chuckles, peppering the top of your head with kisses before you look up once more, and then he bites at your lip. âDaddy would love nothing more, baby girl. But I gotta go easy on you a little bit, you know, since I knocked you up.â
And just saying that gets Steve more incensed, and his eyes flutter down to your belly, which he splays his hand over. He starts fucking you harder, his hips a blur as his dick disappears inside you. And once or twice you forget how to breathe, but you still feel safe because youâre in his arms and who needs to breathe when Steveâs there? When heâs looking at you with such intensity? When heâs fucking you so hard yet his thumb is rubbing so gently on your belly?
You cum again before you know whatâs even happening, your walls pulsating around his dick so deliciously and it makes Steveâs hips stutter. You cry out his name over and over again, so overwhelmed my pleasure and other emotions. Encased in your little bubble with Steve, where itâs just the two of you and your pants and cries and gasps and moans.
âThatâs my good little girl,â Steve praises, his words making you glow despite everything. âCumming just for daddy. But I want your baby pussy to give me another one, okay, baby?â
âWh-What? AnotherâŠ? Steve, I canâtââ
âOne more, baby. You can do it for daddy.â Steve encourages softly, and again his fingers slip down to play with your sensitive clit. âCum once more, baby, before daddy fills you up and knocks you up again.â
Well, that wasnât entirely possible but with Steve⊠who knew? And you were still so overly sensitive, but if anything could put you over the edge it was his words. Along with his expert fingers who knew your body so well after two months. Better than anyone else ever did. His thumb rubs at your bundle of nerves, circling and rubbing, pressing down and pinching it till you feel like youâre going to pass out, and itâs too much and yet your body feels like itâs about to spontaneously combust, andâŠ
âThatâs my good fucking girl,â Steve says proudly when you squirt all over his dick once more, falling like a dead weight in his arms as your body spasms. Your hips buck wildly and your toes curl as you cum so hard, you see stars. And you whimper your alphaâs name, you whimper daddy as you scratch and claw at him and he holds you close, telling you how good you are for him, how youâre such a perfect angel, and how you did so good.
He squeezes you hard against him as he blows his load inside you, keeping you in place so he can fill you up till the brim. Till thick ropes of his cum cover your insides, searing your walls and marking you as his forever and only his. And your mind is made up that this is exactly where you want to be, and despite all your other confusion, you kiss him fiercely, welcoming the feel of him releasing inside you. And you stay like that for a while, him holding you close while you just hold each other.
âI love you.â He whispers in your ear, his embrace all-consuming as he clutches you against him. Your body is slippery and wet and spent and you cling to him and hum in satisfaction. He pauses to kiss up your jaw before he pecks your nose, âBaby, I love you so much.â
A long pause, and all you can hear is the pitter-patter of the water and the pitter-patter of his heart. You wonder if this is what being content feels like. Just right now, inside this shower where itâs just him and you and none of your other problems can reach you. Where all you can see is him and smell is him and touch is him. Your own personal little slice of heaven, even just for a little while.
You donât even notice that Steveâs holding his breath until he exhales heavily, and cups your face to make you look up at him. And his voice comes out soft, so soft itâs almost drowned out by the sound of the shower stream.
âYou love me too, donât you?â
You hesitate, a lump forming in your throat and your chest tightening. A billion thoughts rush in and out of your head, creating a whirlpool of confusion within you. You open your mouth, but it feels dry as cotton. And all that comes out is a little croak and a squeak. Oh god, oh god, oh god. Why couldnât you say it? Werenât you just thinking of how content you feel right now, with him? So then why the heck couldnât you say it?
Abruptly, Steveâs hands drop to his sides and he steps away from you. You feel like youâve been doused by a bucket of ice-cold water at the loss of contact, like the light within you has lost its fuse. You feel an unrest in your bond with him, and you know heâs hurt. Before you can grab his hand, he steps out of the shower and wraps a towel around his waist, avoiding your gaze.
You stand there alone as the water pours all over you, watching as he makes his way out of the bathroom. A part of you canât believe it, because just a second ago he was being so perfect and honest and raw and intimate, and then you had to go ruin it by being unable to say what he wanted to hear! But he pauses at the door, looking back at you.
âI guess Peter was right, huh? You wonât ever love me.â
âSteve, itâs not thatââ
âIâm not a fool, okay? I know I donât deserve you. I definitely donât deserve your love after everything Iâve put you through.â
âSteveââ
âBut Iâm too selfish to ever let you go.â
He leaves, slamming the bathroom door behind him. Your heart jumps all the way to your throat, and you scramble to follow after him. Before you know whatâs happening, you lose your balance, slipping on the wet surface underneath you. But you grab on to the shower curtain just in time, steadying yourself and planting your feet firmly on the floor before you can fall. You breathe hard, your heart hammering crazily in your chest. Your hand automatically slips up to cradle your stomach, and you take a few deep breaths to calm yourself down.
Cautiously, almost at a snailâs pace, you turn the shower off and carefully step out of the tub. Every step you take seems to scare you, but you manage to dry off and put your clothes on before entering the bedroom.
Heâs gone. The bed is empty and youâre the only one in the room.
Oh God, oh God, oh God⊠He left! The back of your mind whirs to life, thoughts immediately working into overdrive in five seconds flat. Heâs gone! You couldnât say you loved him and now heâs gone! You pace the room, inky darkness spreading within you like poison. That same hopelessness because it was happening all over again! He left you. And where would he go? What would he do? The image of him kissing another omega flickers in your mind, making you want to throw up.
You rush to throw the door open, peaking out into the massive, empty corridor. Marble flooring, exquisite tapestry and expensive art hung on the wall â but no Steve. You pitifully call out his name, the sound echoing around the hallway as if to mock you.
He left you! The cruel voice inside your head cackles. Your mom left you and your dad left you and now Steve left you too! You feel yourself being pulled under again, by that damning force inside that seems to want you to be sad forever. Your heart feels like itâs being squeezed by the icy cold hands of the grim reaper himself, pulling you down, down, down. You collapse on the bed, curling up into foetal position as you will yourself not to cry.
Eventually, you hear the bedroom door open. You donât know if itâs been ten minutes or an hour, the haunting voice inside your brain making you lose track of the time. But you feel his strong arms pulling you back up, just like they always do.
âHey,â He says gently, before frowning, âYouâre crying.â
âYou left.â
âI didnât leave, I justâŠâ He grips you tighter, cupping your face and making you look at him, and thereâs a certain desperation in his actions, as if itâs dawning on him just how fucked up you are inside. âI just went outside for a while.â
âYou were mad at me.â You draw in a breath, unable to look at him. âL-Last time you were mad, youâŠyouâŠâ A feral need to smell him overtakes you, and just like last time, your face collides with his chest, nose twitching as it sniffs all over him. Trying to detect a scent other than his own, the picture of him kissing another omega flashing behind your eyes once more.
But all you smell is a hot summerâs day speckled with cigarette smoke. And Steveâs thumbs swipe away your tears like they have countless times before.
âIâm not mad at you. I was just⊠mad at myself.â He breathes, an almost pained look on his face as he watches you cry softly in his arms. âLook, Iâm trying to change, okay? I want to change for you, but it wonât happen overnight. God, I wish it would, but it wonât. I felt myself getting angry, and so I left the situation. But I was only outside. I didnât leave you.â
âIâm sorry I couldnât say it, Steve.â
He presses a soft kiss on your nose, then your cheeks, then your forehead. âDonât be. I havenât given you a reason to say it. But it doesnât mean I donât mean it when I say it.â He sighs, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear, a wistfully bittersweet look on his face, âI wish I had been differentâŠâ
You donât know what to say, so instead you just hug him hard, finding solace in his rich scent as you snuggle your face into his sweater.
âI know you donât trust me. But I promise Iâll be better for you, omega.â The pads of his thumbs never stop stroking your cheekbones, and the action feels so soft, so tender, glass butterflies flying around in your tummy as he speaks. âRemember what I told you outside your momâs house?â
You sniffle and nod.
âWhat did I tell you?â
âTh-That weâre each otherâs home.â
âThatâs right. Which means Iâll stick by you until the day I die. And I know that sounds cheesy as shit but itâs the truth.â He lifts you gently and places you on his lap, wrapping his big arms around you and grabbing your hand and giving it a squeeze before bringing it up to his lips. âYou know that yearning feeling you get when Iâm not here? Where it feels like you canât breathe?â
You nod.
âWell, I get it too. Probably even more than you do.â Steve kisses each one of your fingertips. âI need you more than I need to breathe. But even if I didnât need you, even if I could breathe just fine without you⊠Iâd still love you all the same.â
Your heart flutters, and you feel a sudden surge of emotion. This was really Steve Rogers, the biggest bully on campus? It was, it was, it was! And the three words are on the tip of your tongue, and the omega inside of you is screaming at you to just say it, say it, say it! âSteve, IâŠIâŠâ
But your voice trails off, and you just stare at him helplessly and he stares back, looking both hopeful and knowingly bittersweet at the same time.
You let Steve tuck you in, covering you in your special blanket along with his heavy down comforter. He grabs Steve Junior from the foot of the bed, making the stuffie peck your face with kisses until you giggle. He tucks the teddy bear in against your chest before getting in beside you. You sigh, cuddling into his chest as he lifts you up so youâre resting on top of him, and he kisses the top of your head, and you feel okay.
***
PART III
The stark white lights of the private clinic make you more nervous than you already are. The waiting room is a lot more luxurious than what youâre used to at public hospitals. Plush sofas that are soft as a feather underneath you, yet do nothing to soothe your nerves. You wish Steve was next to you so you could hold his hand, but heâs too busy pacing around the room, a scowl on his face as he checks his watch every few seconds.
âMr. Rogers?â A nurse appears through the door, her sudden chirpiness making you jump. âDoctor Alam will see you now.â
âWell, itâs about time.â Steve huffs, despite the fact that the two of you have only been waiting about five minutes. The nurse leads you to what youâre guessing is one of the ultrasound rooms, giving you a final smile before Steve pushes you in through the door.
âSteve! Itâs lovely to see you again. Come in, come in.â A smart-looking woman in a white coat greets you both, her black hair streaked with white and tied back in an elegant knot. She shoots you a reassuring smile as you hesitate by the door, unsure what to do with yourself before Steveâs hand on your lower back ushers you in.
âDoctor Alam.â Steve nods stoically, pushing you forward. âThis is my girlfriend.â He introduces you and you nod, feeling the usual tongue-tied, shy, awkward and stupid.
The doctor smiles serenely, reaching out to shake your hand. âItâs lovely to meet you.â She says kindly, âWhy, Iâve known Steve for many years now â being his familyâs personal physician and all. I never thought Iâd see him settle down, but itâs wonderful to see that he has.â
Her smile falters for a nano-second when she spots the jagged mark on your neck. But she recovers quickly, squeezing your hand in a friendly manner.
Steve clears his throat, âYes. Sheâs my girlfriend and sheâs pregnant, so do your thingâŠâ He gestures vaguely at the ultrasound machine with as little grace as only he ever could. Doctor Alam raises one perfectly plucked eyebrow, trying to hide the bemused look on her face at his choice of words.
âWell, why donât you hop up onto the bed here, and weâll get started?â
âO-Okay,â you whisper, frozen in place as you take in all the fancy ultrasound equipment next to the bed. Steve gives you a prod and you jump before climbing up and lying down, your heart beating like crazy.
âSo, Iâm just going to ask you a few routine questions, alright?â
You nod.
âIt says here that you took an at-home pregnancy test?â The doctor asks, referring to the form the nurse had made you fill out earlier.
You nod, âY-Yes. I â uh â I took three pregnancy tests and they all came out positive.â
âApproximately how long ago did you take these tests?â
Your wring your fingers nervously, avoiding Steveâs gaze. âIâŠIâm not sure. I think itâs been a few weeks now.â You quietly wonder if the doctor thinks youâll be a bad mother because you canât remember exactly when youâd taken the tests.
Doctor Alam smiles brightly, âWell, soon Iâll be able to tell you just how far along you are. Thatâs exciting, isnât it?â
Exciting wasnât exactly the word youâd use. Daunting maybe. Scary too. You cast a quick glance at Steve, who has taken a seat on the chair next to the bed. He grabs your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. But even he looks distracted and a touch bewildered, his eyes locked on your belly before moving to the ultrasound wand in the doctorâs hand. As if he canât wrap his head around whatâs going on. And neither can you.
Kids, you think to yourself. Weâre just kids ourselves. We donât know what weâre doing.
Doctor Alam squeezes a cool gel on your tummy before she gets to work. The ultrasound wand is cold and foreign against your skin, and so you resort to looking at Steve instead. Not that heâs doing much better. All those football games in stadiums filled with thousands of people, and he never broke a sweat. But now? You can feel a sense of anxiety in your bond, and you know that itâs coming from both of you.
âAha, there it is.â Doctor Alam interrupts. You turn, not really registering what sheâs said. Sheâs sat there smiling, pointing to the screen and prompting you to look too. âCongratulations, thereâs your baby!â
At first, your eyes canât seem to focus on what sheâs talking about. All you see is a black and white screen that flickers and moves every now and then. Swirling shadows that donât really make sense â is that really the inside of your tummy? Youâre about to ask the doctor where exactly this baby is supposed to be, but then she points to something in the middle of the screen.
And then⊠Oh, and then, and then, and then!
You see it. Itâs like a miniature bundle, a tiny little ball â but once your eyes settle on it, itâs like you canât look away. Itâs bobbing, floating, moving slightly! And you can see the heartbeat, actually see it because this little thing is pulsing in the same way a heart beats! Oh God, oh God, oh God! Your hand automatically goes up to your belly, hoping to feel what youâre seeing on the screen in front of you. Steveâs hand falls on top of yours, and without looking at him, you know he canât take his eyes off what he sees either.
âWhoa.â You breathe.
âWhoa indeed. See, thatâs your gestational sac, with the yolk sac inside. And thereâs your baby, itâs about 16 millimetres long, which is about the size of a raspberry.â Doctor Alam chuckles as she points out each individual detail. âBy the looks of things, you are approximately eight weeks pregnant.â
Eight weeksâŠ
âTwo monthsâŠâ You whisper, before tearing your eyes away from the ultrasound to look at Steve. âBut thatâs when weâŠâ
ââŠThatâs when we first got together.â Steve completes, a look of awe on his face before he, too, tears his gaze off the screen to look at you. It takes the two of you a handful of seconds to register what that means, and then you see a slow, self-satisfied smile spread across Steveâs face. He leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest and looking extremely smug. âWell, I canât say Iâm surprised. Doctor, I told her Iâd get her pregnant the first time we slept together. Didnât I, omega? Didnât I say that? And nowââ
His insanely inappropriate words become background noise as you turn back to the ultrasound screen. Your baby, actually tangible and visible and with a beating heart, no less! This whole time, youâd struggled to wrap your head around the idea that there was life growing inside you. What with all the problems with Steve and the confrontations with Peter and your mother leaving you⊠youâd hardly had time to think about the fact that you were pregnant. All these weeks of feeling like there was a disconnect, like this was something youâd buried to the back of your mind whilst you dealt with everything else. But nowâŠ
âI can see its little heart beating.â You murmur in wonder. The little raspberry-sized thing had a heart! And it was pulsing and beating just like yours! This little thing, it was full of life! And it was growing inside you! You feel a sudden wave of protectiveness and excitement, making your own heart flutter in a way it never has before. Had this little thing been inside you this whole time, for the past two months? Depending on you as the main source of its life? Oh, it was absolutely beautiful, wonderful, magicalâ
âIt looks like a lima bean.â Steve comments, but his whole face softens as he smiles at the screen.
Steve and Doctor Alam discuss various things. He wants to know if youâre healthy (you are) and if the baby is healthy (it is) and he also wants to know a bunch of other stuff which you should also probably pay attention to but all you can focus on is your little baby on the ultrasound monitor. You feel oddly light-hearted, but also nervous, scared, excited and in awe. Vaguely, you wonder if this is how your mother felt when she found out she was having you.
Probably not, but you guessed youâd never know. But you do know one thing: hell would freeze over before youâd leave this baby like how your mother had left you. And thatâs a silent promise you make to yourself and the life growing inside of you, as you sit there on the clinic bed and stare at the ultrasound. Steve was right, you would never be like how your mother was.
The doctor gives you a picture of the scan in a little envelope when youâre on your way out. You grab it almost greedily, holding it close to your heart and repeating your silent promise to yourself. I donât know you yet, but I will never leave you. Iâm your mother and I promise you Iâll never leave you. Not when youâre four, or eighteen, or twenty-five, or even fifty. Iâll always be there for you, I promise.
Was this what all the biology textbooks meant when they spoke about omegas having a natural motherly instinct? Well, unlike Steve, you didnât think all omegas were the same. You could only speak for yourself, and all you could say was that this burst of motherly love or whatever it was you were feeling right now, it was quite literally warming you from the inside out. You feel light and excited, holding Steveâs hand and almost skipping out the hospital.
âYou look happy.â Steve comments after helping you into the car and clicking your seatbelt in.
âArenât you?â You pause, stroking your stomach thoughtfully, âI was so scared of this baby being a reality, but now⊠Well, Iâm still scared now, but I also feel kind of calm and happy, as if this was meant to happen, you know? Like everythingâs gonna be okay.â
Steve looks at you for several seconds before his hand joins yours against your belly. He strokes the skin softly, his blue eyes tender, âWell, I told you from the beginning that this was always meant to happen, didnât I?â
His gaze drops down to your stomach, and he lifts your cardigan up, palm spreading flat across your bare skin. You look closely at his face, how his breathing shallows and his lips part as if in awe. Itâs just your tummy, and you havenât even begun to show yet, and yet he looks as if heâs staring at a shining diamond, and his eyes have stars in them.
âHey, little guy. Or girl.â Steve says softly to your tummy, and your heart skips a beat at how gentle he sounds. âHang in there, okay? You look like a lima bean right now but trust me, by the time you come out youâll be just as cute as your mama.â
You kiss him, catching him off-guard as you surge up and grab his face, pressing your lips against his with an almost carnal desire. But heâs quick to recover, holding you gently in his arms as he kisses you back. And kissing Steve now still makes the butterflies flutter in your tummy just how they did the first time he kissed you two months ago. It still feels so special, so sweet, so right.
âTwo months ago, you couldnât even look me in the eye. Let alone kiss me.â Steve says, between kisses, smiling against your lips.
âTwo months ago you were so different.â You answer breathlessly. Hell, even last week heâd been so different. Had the change in him happened slowly, gradually? Or all at once? You didnât know, but it made you happy to see him looking at you with stars in his eyes and a genuine smile on his face. Â
âIâm gonna drop you home so you can rest, okay baby? Iâll join you later tonight.â
You pout. As pathetic as it sounded, you hated it when he wasnât always with you. âWhere are you going?â
He presses one final kiss to your lips before starting up the car, âI hired some movers to bring our stuff over from campus back up here. I gotta be there to oversee it all, make sure they donât break something or miss anything.â
He was going back to campus? You feel a certain jolt in your heart, thinking about all your things sitting back there.
âCould I come too, Steve?â
âNo. I want you to go home and rest.â
âPlease?â
âNo, omega. I donât want you to be around a bunch of creepy movers. Not to mention how unsafe it is for a pregnant and fragile little omega like you to be around so much heavy-lifting. What if one of those idiot movers dropped something on you? I would fucking kill them...â His fist clenches against the steering wheel as if heâs already getting angry at the mere thought of that happening.
You bow your head, clutching the little envelope with your baby scan inside it as if itâs your lifeline, âPlease let me come.â I hate being alone with my thoughts.
âBabyââ
Maybe itâs the way you sigh and look out the window, already shrivelling into yourself at the mere idea of being by yourself again. When just a few minutes ago, youâd been smiling from ear-to-ear, having seen your little baby inside your tummy. You hear Steve sigh.
âFine. You can come. But stay near me, and donât speak to any of the movers. In fact, donât even go near them, or else Iâll call you an Uber and send you straight back home.â
***
âWell, well, well, Mr. Quarterback finally returns.â Sam grins, coming over to thump Steve on the back. The two alphas hug in that way that boys do, first clasping hands before pulling each in for a one-armed hug. You hang back and smile, things had been icy between Steve and Sam in the days after you got locked out in the rain, but clearly they had patched things up after theyâd won the big game.
But what you donât expect is Sam reaching out and pulling you in too, till youâre sandwiched between the two alphas in a tight, warm hug that you canât help but return. You feel Steve stiffen, his eyes narrowing suspiciously as he looks from you to Sam. You half expect him to lose it, but after a few seconds he relaxes. But not before lifting Samâs arm off your waist and placing it around your shoulders instead, and shooting the other alpha a warning look.
Sam draws back and hands Steve a beer, âHere I was thinking weâd all be celebrating the end of college, and the next thing I know Iâm in an empty house because you guys fucked off to God knows where.â
Your heart skips at how heâs including you, saying âyou guysâ instead of just Steve. Sam had apologised to you after the whole being locked out debacle, but you hadnât spoken to him since. It still felt nice to be included, however, and so you canât help but smile.
âI just want to apologise again,â Sam says quietly when Steve goes into the kitchen to get you an apple juice, âHow we acted with you, and my whole part in it, I really am sorryââ
âItâs alright.â Â
The three of you toast to a happy summer to come. Steve and Sam clink their beer bottles against your glass of apple juice. You donât know if this summer will be a happy one, but you canât have anything worse happen to you than whatâs already happened, right? It was a cynical way of looking at things but you couldnât help that. On the bright side, at least if someone locked you out of the house now, it would be sunny outside.
The two of you go upstairs to pack. Itâs easy enough for you, since you donât have that much to begin with. But Steve had bought you a ton of new things in the two months youâd been with him, which is why youâre grateful for the new suitcases Steve had provided for you. The old, tattered suitcase youâd lugged along with you on the first day of freshman year could finally retire, along with the memories of what now felt like a past lifeâŠ
Steveâs idea of packing is throwing everything into the suitcases and calling it a day. The omega inside you is horrified by this, wanting to fold and layer each piece of clothing, each book, each sheet. Savouring the memories behind each item you pack, like your polaroid camera, which youâd saved up for months to buy right before freshman year. It was meant to capture all the fun you thought youâd haveâŠ
I can use it when youâre born, you say to your tummy, and Iâll stick polaroids of you into a scrapbook, along with the scan from today. Iâll take some pictures of your dad too. And then when youâre grown up, you can look through it.
Speaking of books, you quietly grab the black sketchbook from underneath the bed when Steve isnât looking, safely stashing it in your bag.
âWhere the hell are those movers?â Steve glances at his watch, âI want to us to get back home before sunset.â
Home. Steveâs house. You supposed it was your home now, but you knew it would take time for you to feel like it was. You peak outside Steveâs bedroom window, taking in the campus courtyard for what felt like the last time. Would you come back here for your second year? How would that even work with you pregnant? How could you ever complete your degree with a baby to take care of too? That is, if Steve would even allow it.
âA bunch of my stuff is still at my old dorm room.â You say suddenly.
Steve wrinkles his nose, âReally? Is it anything important?â
He had slowly moved your things into his room when youâd started living with him, but he hadnât brought along everything. You didnât have much, but a lot of your old clothes were still there. Your scuffed sneakers (heâd bought you new ones) and the bag youâd sewed yourself out of your old jeans (heâd bought you a designer one to use instead). You supposed you didnât have much use for your old things, but they were still yours, and you wanted them.
âYes.â You say firmly, âPlease could I go over there and check over my things?â What would even happen to them if you didnât? Would they just go in the trash? Forgotten forever just like youâd been forgotten by your mother? No, you couldnât let that happen.
But Steve shakes his head, âWe canât go right now, I need to be here when the movers get here.â
You bite your lip, âI could just go myself.â Your old dorm room was only on the other side of campus, where the cheaper accommodation was.
âNo. You know you canât go by yourself.â
âBut Steveââ
âI said no.â
You sit down on the edge of the bed. Itâs been stripped down to just the mattress, but you remember a time when it was covered in your flowery sheets that youâd brought over from your old dorm. A memory. Everything was slipping by so quickly⊠Your childhood home, your dorm, this bedroom, and now Steveâs mansion. Just for a second, you wish you could freeze time and breathe, and gain a little bit of control over whatâs happening around you.
Steve crouches in front of you, taking your hands in his, âLook, I canât let you go by yourself. The last time I left you by yourselfâŠâ His voice trails off and his eyes narrow, and you know heâs thinking of the day of the football game.
âIf you think Peterâs gonna come back and take me again, he wonât.â You say, âI think heâs well and truly done with me now, and I donât think Iâll ever hear from him again.â You can still picture the hurt in his eyes when heâd seen the mark on your neck, and when heâd seen you stay with Steve. From the deepest part of your heart, you mourn the loss of your friendship with him⊠Maybe one day you could talk to him and repair it?
Steve opens his mouth to say something, and you wait for him to curse Peter out, or say something awful about him. But he pauses when he sees the sad look on your face, and instead he sighs. You know heâs on a path to changing his ways, and you know itâs not easy for him. But you can see heâs trying, with the way his features soften and he kisses your hand instead.
âYou really want to go back there right now?â
âYes, please.â
Steve gives Sam express instructions on how to deal with the movers, telling him that the two of you would be back with half an hour. You figure thatâll be more than enough time to survey over your remaining things and pick what you want to take with you. A part of you feels emotional, as if not just a chapter, but an entire novel of your life is ending and you donât know if the next book has even been confirmed. Itâs weird, this mix of excitement you feel for the future which included the baby in your tummy, and this sense of bittersweet loss you also felt as if your college life was coming to a premature end.
Your dorm room looks exactly the same as how youâd left it. You havenât been back since the day Sharon confronted you, and Steve had taken you to his house. Smell was the biggest carrier of nostalgia, and here you could smell so many memories⊠A girl, once eager and hopeful, happy to be at a prestigious university and away from the demons sheâd left behind at home. Oh, youâd been so excited to live on your own!
âI donât like being in here.â Steve says, clearing his throat uncomfortably and reaching out to squeeze your hand. âI was an asshole to you in this room.â
You turn back to him, and the two of you share a meaningful look where a lot is said despite nothing being said out loud at all. You know heâs sorry, you can see the remorse on his face and you can feel it in the bond you share. You know he wishes he could take it all back, and you wish to God that heâd been then what he was becoming now.
You grab your DIY bag made out of your old, patchy jeans, and a few of your hoodies which youâd stopped wearing and left behind because Steve had bought you new clothes. You rifle through all your old keychains and knick-knacks, remembering how Steve had done the same thing when heâd first come here. Moving on to your desk, you see the old notes still strewn about on the wooden surface, including the essay plan youâd so meticulously constructed for Steve when heâd come over for âtutoring.â
âYouâre reliving old memories, arenât you?â Steve asks tonelessly.
You nod. There are bad ones, but you try to focus on the good: your first time kissing him, how heâd gifted you Steve JuniorâŠ
His arms wrap around your waist from behind, and he hugs you hard. Holding you, rocking with you while you both seem lost in thought. His hand slips down, fingers splaying out over your stomach.
âWeâll make new memories. The three of us.â
That makes you smile. âReally, Steve?â
âYes. Iâll be better. I swear I will.â
You pack your bag with the few belongings you want to take with you. Steve tries to help, but soon gets a call from the movers.
âWhat do you mean you canât fit the bed frame into the van? Have you tried using your brain and maybe dismantling it?â
The response is cut up and almost inaudible, the connection extremely weak. He frowns, âI canât hear you.â
More muffled sounds.
Steve groans, âBaby, Iâm gonna take this outside, okay? Stay in here.â
You nod, distracted by all your old things surrounding you. Youâve always been a sentimental person, romanticising mundane things that other people wouldnât glance at twice. Like your bottle of cheap suppressants that Steve had rattled around and looked at with such disdain. Your old keychains, your empty lip-glosses, you donât know how long you sit there and reminisce about your old life that seems like it was ions ago instead of just a few months.
You donât even hear the door when it opens.
âYou know, this is how I always imagined it.â
His voice sends shivers down your spine, a coldness spreading through your veins thatâs as icy as his eyes. You swallow, turning around slowly and holding on to the hope that maybe itâs not him. Oh God, please let it not be him. But it is.
Bucky stands at the doorway, a glint in his eye as he looks you up and down. You feel a sense of impending doom, your heart sinking down to the depths. Oh, but shouldnât you have expected this? He was, after all, one of the problems youâd pushed aside, tried to run away from. Out of sight, out of mind â and yet here he was now. You swallow harshly, and you will yourself to be brave despite the fact that your hands are shaking. You donât want him here; you donât want him near you.
âWh-What are you doing here?â You ask, hating how your voice comes out shaky.
âSweetheart, itâs been weeks since we last spoke. And you canât even say hello?â Bucky smiles, but thereâs something wooden about it, something off. Something you canât really put your finger on or even care to. âI mean, Sam got a hug from you. I saw it. Iâm sure I should get the same treatment, right? Or maybe something moreâŠâ Calmly, he shuts the door behind him, and then you hear the click of the lock. Your heart jumps to your throat, panic beginning to set in. Itâs okay, Steveâs only just outside, you think to yourself.
You clear your throat, narrowing your eyes in a bid to look more confident than youâre actually feeling, âThe last time I saw you, you locked me out of the house in the pouring rain.â
He steps towards you and you instinctively take a step back. He notices and smirks, as if he finds your actions amusing. âOh, right. I feel bad about that, but you were getting too big for your boots, sweetheart.â
âJust because I refused to kiss you?â You feel anger at his words, and it overrides your fear for just a second. You remember him twisting your arm when you didnât kiss him, remember how heâd slammed the door in your face, how heâd sat there scrolling nonchalantly on his phone while you pounded at the door, drenched in the rain and begging him to let you in. Oh, how you wish you werenât a weak omega just for a few moments, just so you could stand toe-to-toe with someone like him!
Instead, you cower as he crosses the room, and heâs only inches away from you when your back hits your desk and you canât back away any more. And thatâs when he smirks, reaching out to move your hair out of your face. You blanche, feeling your skin crawl at his touch.
âI saw you first.â He breathes.
âTh-That doesnât matter.â
âIt does to me.â His eyes flutter shut for a second and he inhales deeply, âYou smell so fucking sweet. The day I first saw you, all I could think about was how beautiful you were, and how badly I wanted to smell your scent but you were on those damn suppressants.â He opens his eyes and you see them darken, âSteve could smell you immediately, and I hated that. I hated that he was the only one who could.â
âBucky, heâs right outside. Heâll be back any second.â
âHe gets everything he ever wants,â Buckyâs tone hardens, and he surges forward, pressing up against you. You struggle against him, trying to somehow squeeze out from between him and the desk but he grips your arm, digging his fingers into your skin painfully to keep you in place. âEver since we were kids⊠He got everything. A better car, a higher allowance. He got better girls and better grades and they made him the captain of the football team.â
Your jaw would have dropped open had it not been frozen in place with fear. Seriously? Those were his problems? That Steve had a better car? If you werenât so scared out of your damn mind, you wouldâve laughed. Somehow, you doubt Bucky ever had an alcoholic, absentee mother with a string of abusive boyfriends. You doubt his parents had ever left him. You know heâd never grown up in poverty, you know heâd never been bullied relentlessly. Oh, you wish you had his problemsâŠ
âBut then you walked in and I called dibs and for once, for fucking once⊠I had something he wanted.â Buckyâs finger trails down your arm before he grabs your waist, pushing himself into you. You gasp, fists going up to his chest to push him off you but to no avail. Oh God, where was Steve?!
A bitter laugh escapes from Buckyâs throat, âBut of course, he lied and manipulated his way into claiming you too. Down to his core, thatâs who Steve is. Thatâs what he does.â His icy blue eyes look distant, as if heâs in another dimension inside his head â thatâs the only way you can describe it. But then he snaps back to peer at your face, excitement covering his features and chilling you down to the core as you cringe away from him, subconsciously patting at the envelope containing your baby scan inside your pocket, as if to calm yourself down.
âBut this isnât about Steve, sweetheart. This is about you. Little Miss Omega whoâs gotten too big for her boots. You got with an alpha and all of a sudden you think youâre the queen of the world, donât you?â He yanks at your hair, and you cry out in pain as he drags you to your old bed.
Cold, incapacitating fear overtakes you when he pushes you down on the mattress. You land on your back with a thump, immediately trying to roll away but he grabs your leg and pulls you back before climbing on top of you. Oh no, oh no, please. God, please noâŠ
âBucky, donât do this!â
âYou think youâre too good for me, huh?â Bucky sneers, his face inches from yours. His hands move to grab your cardigan, ripping it apart. He doesnât even flinch as the buttons fly everywhere, smirking maniacally down at you as you scramble to hold your tattered cardigan together. âYou think youâre too good to kiss me? Well, sweetheart, Iâve dreamed of this moment. And I assure you, weâll be doing a lot more than just kissing tonightâŠâ
âBucky, donât! Iâm pregnant, okay? Iâm pregnant!â You scream out desperately, hoping and praying that heâd have a little bit of sympathy inside him to just stop. If not for your sake, then maybe for the sake of your unborn child. He wouldnât hurt a pregnant woman, would he?
Bucky does stop, for just a moment. His hand freezes in the middle of trying to peel the remains of your cardigan off you and you see something register in the depths of his pale, icy eyes. But it only lasts a nanosecond, before they cloud over and he smiles, pressing his forehead against yours. âThatâs okay, sweetheart. Weâll just pretend itâs mine.â
Oh, he was crazy! Utterly and completely crazy! And you donât know what to do! Because when have you ever gone into a confrontation and come out on top? Hell, you couldnât even hold your own against another omega like Sharon⊠let alone an alpha twice your size like Bucky. Steve, where are you? Please save me, please, please, please!
âBucky stop, okay? I know youâre mad at Steve and⊠and youâre upset you didnât get what you wanted b-but this isnât the way toââ
He kisses you. And oh, itâs horrible! It feels like youâre being squeezed into a tight black hole where you canât breathe and you canât move and itâs just so wrong. Everything about it is wrong, like two misfit pieces from opposite ends of a puzzle. Heâs rough yet almost robotic with how he kisses you, his kiss lacking any of the passion and fire you feel with Steve. Itâs even worse than when Peter kissed you⊠oh, because Buckyâs kiss feels like itâs charged with hatred, and anger, and malice, andâ
âGET THE FUCK OFF OF ME!â
You push with all your might, the shrillness of your words surprising you both. It catches him off guard, and you do something youâve never done before in your life. You spit right in his face, sneering up at him defiantly. Youâre sick of every single one of these fucking men kissing you when you didnât want them to. Enough was enough.
âLittle Miss Omega likes to play rough, huh?â Bucky quickly recovers, wiping your spit off his face and keeping you pinned down underneath him, âThatâs alright. Fight against me all you want, but you and I both know youâre just a weak little omega. You never stood a chance, sweetheart. Not against any of us.â
Long ago, when youâd been standing on the porch in a thunderstorm, youâd made a promise to yourself to never beg him again. Something had snapped inside you then, flushing out all hope from inside you. Something snaps inside you now, too. But it does the complete opposite.
âYouâre right, Iâm weak compared to you. But at least Iâm not pathetic.â
Bucky scoffs, opening his mouth but you beat him to it.
âI used to be scared of all of you alphas. You all looked so strong, powerful and untouchable to me. But what Iâve realised is that each one of you is more insecure than the next. Especially you, Bucky. And I feel sorry for you, because I can take all the bullying and the harassment and everything else thatâs happened to me, but you canât take even the slightest bit of rejection. Youâre pathetic.â
He pauses, regarding you with narrowed eyes. And again, you see a semblance of something human glimmer across his face before his features twist into a snarl. âSave the condescending philosophy lesson for later, sweetheart. Iâm not interested.â
He tries to kiss you again, but you turn your head because hell would freeze over before you let someone kiss you unwillingly again. His hands are all over your body, trying to get your clothes off you except you donât give him a chance. You thrash wildly underneath him, something feral taking over from inside you. This wild survival instinct, this need to keep yourself and the baby safe. And the whole time during this physical tousle, youâre thinking: please donât let him hurt my baby, please let my baby come out of this okay, even if I donât. I donât want to lose it⊠I know I didnât pay attention to it at first, but I donât want to lose it. Please, please, please, I donât want to lose my baby.
âLet me fucking have this!â Bucky roars, pinning your hands over your head. You can feel the tears well in your eyes but you donât want to spill any over him, over this. He roughly kisses up your jaw, âI went home these past couple of weeks to clear my head, and all I could fucking think about was you. I wanted you first, so just let me have this, okay? Fucking kiss me back! Spread your legs for me like you did for the first alpha who ever glanced your way.â
âSTEVE!â You scream, growing more desperate by the second, âSTEVE, PLEASE HELP!â
Bucky laughs wickedly, âHeâs not coming to save you, sweetheart. I made sure of it.â
His words unlock something even more feral in you, but itâs when he splays his hand over your tummy that you completely lose it. In a way you never have before. How dare he? How fucking dare he?
âDONâT FUCKING TOUCH ME!â
You ram your knee up, catching him straight on his crotch. Bucky grunts, falling on top of you. His hands let go of yours as he goes to clutch between his legs. You try to push him off you but heâs too big, too heavy.
âYou stupid fucking slut,â Bucky swears, trying to grab at you with one hand but you know this is the only opening youâll ever get. His face is grimaced in pain, and youâve never been a violent person but you figure now is the best time to change that. You scratch at his face, shoving and pushing at him to get him off you. He grabs your wrist again, but you assume you got him hard on his crotch because itâs thrown him off his game. And you knee him again, this time catching him in his abdomen. The kick isnât too hard, and Bucky barely flinches but it does distract him enough to allow you to slip out from underneath him.
You run to the door, managing to unlock it before Bucky grabs you by the waist and pulls you back. And now you really feel like crying, because you were so close⊠So fucking closeâŠ
Was this how it was going to end? Had God really written this in your fate? On top of everything else shitty that had happened to you since the day you were fucking born? No, it couldnât be. You wouldnât let it. You were sick of bad things happening to you while you stood there and cried and let them. If he was going to do this, you were going to fight till the end. You owed that to yourself, and your baby too.
âI hate you, you pathetic piece of shit!â You spit out, clawing and writhing as he half drags and half carries you back to the bed. Never in your life have you called anyone such a name but it just comes out of you with such vitriol, born out of both the fear and anger you feel right now. âI was only ever nice to you, despite how awful you all treated me! But you just canât take rejection, and that is not my fault! Youâre a pathetic, privileged jerk!â
âYou couldâve loved me if it werenât for Steve.â Bucky sneers, pulling your hair back and scowling at Steveâs mark on your neck. He bares his teeth, poised to bite. No, no, no, no! You punch, kick, writhe, claw, andâ
âAre you done packing? Some asshole slashed my tires andââ
Itâs like the whole world freezes when the door opens and Steve steps into the room. You freeze mid-fight, and Bucky does too. Steve does too. Pin drop silence. Not a single sound. Just the three of you staring at each other. And thenâŠ
âSee what your slut of an omega is capable of, Steve?â Bucky says, gesturing at you while your jaw drops open in shock at what heâs saying. The brunette alphaâs eyes are as wild as his hair, and heâs breathing hard with an almost maniacal look on his face, âYou see? Do you see this, Steve? She couldnât wait to get on my dick the moment your back was turned. Guess you were right about her being the campus slut after all.â
For a moment, youâre rendered speechless. You watch Steve closely as he takes in whatâs in front of him. You and Bucky on your bed, him practically on top of you, your hair dishevelled, your cardigan torn in half with the buttons broken. Oh no, Steve couldnât possibly believeâŠ?
âNo.â You say firmly, your voice unwavering because if there was ever a time for you to be as clear as possible, it was now. âHeâs lying. He came on to me, Steve. Like heâs been doing for months now.â
Bucky scoffs, âOh yeah? Is that why you never told him that until now?â
Steve is motionless, stoic and his expression unreadable as he looks from you to his best friend and back to you again.
âSteve, he attacked me.â You look squarely into your alphaâs eyes, trying to sound confident but you canât keep the desperate plea from your tone. âHeâs been acting weird with me behind your back for months, and I know I didnât tell you and I tried to brush it off butââ
âSheâs a fucking liar,â Bucky cuts you off, âA fucking slut who wants two alphas at the same time. Me and her have been flirting for months behind your back, and she was enjoying every second of it, thatâs why she never told you. Sheâs a goddamned slut, Steve, and she fooled us both with her innocent act.â
Each lie is like a punch to your gut, and you turn to stare at him in complete dismay. You could not fathom how someone could lie so cleanly, so unashamedly. And Steve? Why wasnât he saying anything?
âThatâs not trueâŠâ You say softly, not having it in you to say anything else.
âIt is true, and you know itâs true, Steve,â Bucky claims, and he looks calmer now, as if he knows Steve will believe him and it breaks your fucking heart, the broken pieces sinking down to the depths of your tummy. âI wouldnât lie to you, Steve, you know thatââ
âOmega, step out of the room.â Steve says quietly. Itâs an alpha command, because you feel your legs moving before you know whatâs happening. You cross the bedroom, trying to catch Steveâs gaze but he wonât look at you. His eyes are locked on Bucky.
What follows is total carnage. The moment you cross the threshold, stepping out of the room and out of harmâs way, Steve attacks. Letting out an almighty snarl, he shoots across the room, pouncing on Bucky like a rabid animal. Bucky, clearly not expecting the attack, crashes to the ground with Steve on top of him. You wince when the brunet alphaâs head hits the floor, but Steve looks possessed, his face red and eyes narrowed to slits. And he throws punch after punch against Buckyâs face, and you can hear the repeated crack of his fist against his jaw.
You press your hand over your stomach as if to shield it, knowing you canât step back into the bedroom to stop them even if you wanted to.
Bucky recovers quickly, and itâs different from Peter because Bucky matches Steveâs size and strength. He punches Steve back, his face screwed up in disgust as if he canât fathom why Steve is attacking him.
âYouâd believe her over me?!â Bucky roars, âYou pussy-whipped piece of shit, youâd believe that slut over your best fucking friend?!â
âDONâT YOU FUCKING TALK ABOUT HER!â Steveâs voice rings across the whole room, and probably the whole building.
Bucky coughs, his lip swollen and his eye already blackening, but heâs still fighting back. âSheâs a slut, and youâre a fucking joke for defending herââ
CRACK.
Youâre sure Steve has broken Buckyâs jaw with how hard he punches him and how sickening the crack sounds. And he doesnât stop there, grabbing Bucky by the throat while the brunet tries to recover underneath him.
âDonât â you â ever â fucking â touch â her â again â you â piece â of â shit!â Each word is enunciated with Steve slamming Buckyâs head on the hard wood floor. And you look on in absolute horror, feeling torn because you hate Bucky with everything you have, because heâd just assaulted you and lied and heâd been awful to you and didnât he deserve this? And yet you canât bear to see such a display of violenceâŠ
âYou always got everything!â Bucky sputters, and this admission catches Steve off-guard enough for Bucky to shove him off and tackle him to the ground, and now itâs Buckyâs turn to throw the punches, battering Steveâs face with renewed vigour. âYou canât have her too, you canâtââ
And you almost step back into the room, but you know you canât put yourself and your baby in danger like that. You desperately look around, seeing if you can call for help. But who would come between these two alphas? And deep down, you knew they needed to hash it out.
They fight and fight, throwing punches and slamming and tackling each other all over the room. Swearing and cussing, spitting out words of venom. You run down the hall, banging on the other doors, hoping someone would help and break them apart. But no one answers, and you know no one would come within ten feet of two furious alphas.
You run back to your dorm room, making sure to stay outside just like Steve told you to. But your heart lurches at the bruises on Steveâs face, the beginnings of a black eye forming as Bucky continues to hit him.
âStop!â You scream at Bucky, âPlease, leave him alone!â
Itâs like your voice snaps something inside Steve, and with the strength of his whole body, he pushes Bucky off of him. Smooth as a panther, he gets to his feet, landing several hard kicks on his friendâs ribs and abdomen. His face is battered and angry, feral yet still unreadable. Itâs his best friend heâs fighting, and you can see that in how his features twist in disbelief mixed with animalistic fury.
And itâs with that same blind fury that he picks up your entire desk like itâs nothing. And you look on in horror, watch all your books and notes fall to the ground. Bucky looks too, his mouth bloody and parted in dismay as Steve lifts the heavy wooden desk over his head, poised on top of Buckyâs twitching body.
âSteve, donât! Youâll kill him!â Or at least cause irreversible damage.
âHe deserves it. He hurt you.â Steveâs voice comes out menacing as he looks straight at Bucky and only at Bucky, âAll this fucking time, and right under my fucking nose...â
He kicks Bucky again, hard on the stomach and Bucky doubles over in pain. And Steve still stands over him, still gripping the huge desk as if itâs nothing. And you canât imagine the damage heâd do if he let it fall on Buckyâs head, let alone slam it down with force.
But something seems to snap in Steve when he sees Bucky bent over in pain before he lies flat as if heâs resigned to his fate. And thereâs blood gushing out of Buckyâs nose and his mouth, and his face is almost beaten to a pulp, and his eyes look glazed over, barely alert.
With a sigh, Steve sets the desk back down to the side, and then collapses next to Bucky. Sat down on the floor next to his friend who twitches in pain, and Steve looks at him in both disbelief and pity.
âYou were my best friend.â Steve whispers, and it comes out broken and resigned. They stare at each other for a few seconds, and then neither of them says anything more, and Bucky turns away on his side, and Steve gets up and leaves him.
He makes his way to you, and you rush over to him. For a handful of moments, no one speaks. He hugs you hard, harder than usual but thatâs not very shocking given the circumstances. He takes his jacket off and helps you put it on, and you welcome the warmth it brings you, his rich scent calming you down.
âAre you okay?â He asks.
âYes. Are you?â
âYeah. Iâm sorry I didnât protect you from him before.â
âThatâs alright, you didnât know.â
Steve refuses to look at Bucky even once more, and you know itâs because heâs afraid his anger will make him do something heâd later regret. So itâs you who uses Steveâs phone to call Sam to come help the brunet alpha, who is teetering on unconscious but fortunately still alive.
âNo oneâs gonna hurt you again.â Steve vows, holding on to tighter than ever, and you lean into him, burying your face in the crook of his neck. Warm, safe, relieved, you feel all of it as your adrenaline finally begins to come down.
âI know they wonât. I wonât let them, and you wonât either. Iâm glad itâs all over now.â
***
The sun is shining as you and Steve set out across the grounds of his family home. The gardens stretch out across acres, so beautifully kept and flourishing, yielding all types of different flowers that are in full bloom. As you walk across what looks to be an entire field of yellow roses, you notice that Steve plucks one out every few steps, till heâs got a bunch of them grasped in his fist, and with gentle hands he expertly picks the thorns off.
You stop at a patch of green grass under a pretty looking tree, and thatâs where you set your picnic basket down. Steve Junior smiles up at you from inside the wicker, and he seems to begrudgingly extend that smile to Steve too, which makes you happy. Steve helps you sit down as the sun splashes down on all three of you, and a gentle breeze makes your dress flow.
Itâs been weeks since the whole ordeal with your mother leaving and then with Bucky. The first few days immediately after it were tough, as both you and Steve came to terms with different things. Steve went through periods of anger so strong, he wanted to get in the car and pay Bucky another visit. He couldnât believe what Bucky had been doing to you behind his back, and once you told him the details, he was nothing short of livid. Youâd often find him just sitting there, deep in thought about it all, formulating plans of revenge and plotting to take Bucky down. You told him that Buckyâs own insecurities and bitterness were his downfall, and to not worry about him anymore. You certainly wouldnât.
As for you, you found that your mother leaving you would always linger in the back of your mind â at least for the foreseeable future. That made you sad, but you also found that it wasnât too hard to continue life with this information. At first, you didnât know what you wanted to do. Track her down and yell at her for being so heartless? Ignore her existence and carry on, just like how she was doing with you?
Well, you decided to take it one day at a time. And youâd already spent one whole year of university without your mother, and in a way, it was practice to what was now becoming your new normal. Despite her imperfections and shortcomings, it still sucked being left behind by her. But all you could do now was slowly piece yourself back together and hope that youâd never have to go through anything traumatic like that ever again.
To his credit, Steve did his best to distract you in the weeks following that fateful visit to your childhood home, as well as the ordeal with Bucky. Or maybe he was trying to distract himself from his own worries and concerns⊠about you and about his mother, and about his former best friend. True to his impulsive style, heâd wanted to take you on vacation right away for a change of scenery, as an escape. You told him that his familyâs mansion was vacation enough for you, what with the gazillion pools and the luxurious interiors and hundreds of other features which you had yet to explore.
It's in these few weeks that you got to know Steve ways you never had in the two months youâd known him prior to this. The two of you went swimming together in one of his pools (Steve wouldnât let go of you at first, afraid that youâd drown or somehow put the baby at risk. But he changed gears pretty quickly once you beat him in a freestyle race, although he scoffed and claimed he was going easy on you).
You cooked together too (well, it was originally just you cooking, as you always did for him, but Mrs. Rogers pushed him into the kitchen to help you, and once Steve saw how sharp the knives were and how hot the oven was, he immediately put himself in charge. âTry the mashed potatoes, Mom. I made those,â he had boasted over dinner that night, and his mother had smiled at him indulgently, and shot you a wink).
You also gave him his sketchbook which youâd retrieved from under the bed. He was shocked that you knew about it and that youâd brought it back, and you told him how touched you were seeing how much heâd drawn you and how talented he was. He played it off at first, tossing the sketchbook aside and telling you he didnât draw much anymore. But then one day you caught him sketching what you guessed was his mother. In his sketch, she was on her feet, pretty and full of life. Dancing amongst a flower garden, a little blonde boy holding her hand. It moved you so much, you couldnât help but wrap your arms around him tightly, as if to tell him that it would all be okay. In those moments, you felt more bonded to him than the mark on your neck ever made you feel.
Speaking of Mrs. Rogers, her health remained the same. But she did seem to light up when Mr. Rogers finally came home. You were so shy, especially when you noted the formal way in which he greeted his son. Steveâs dad looked a lot like Steve, just older and more mellow, a touch of sadness in his eyes. But he greeted you warmly, and told you that he was happy his son had found you.
 And then he turned to his wife, and it was amazing how his face morphed completely, as if he had hearts in his eyes. Theyâd left you and Steve to your own devices, and later, when you walked by their room, you saw them dancing together. Well, she was fragile and weak, and stood on his shoes while he moved around the room. But it was very cute, and you werenât used to seeing parents love each other like this, and so you stood transfixed for longer than you cared to admit. And then Steve dragged you away to go do some activity around the house.Â
Nevertheless, slowly, in these past few weeks, youâd begun to feel happy again. It happened very gradually, and yet so naturally at the same time. You allowed yourself to enjoy this new side of Steve, this loving and laidback side of him that you just couldnât get enough of. You found yourself waking up and looking forward to spending the day with him, finding out what activities he had planned for the day, giggling at the thought of doing something fun or romantic with him.
Todayâs activity was a picnic in the Rogersâ family estateâs never-ending gardens. Steve had picked out a pretty yellow dress for you (it was too hot for a hoodie) and heâd helped dress you, too. He was treating you like you were made of glass, babying you more than ever before. You wondered whether it was because you were pregnant, or because of everything youâd been through. Either way, you liked how he sat you in his lap and cooed at you as he slipped the lacy socks on your feet, how he kissed your neck and told you how beautiful you were. It made you feel special, how only he could.
âFor you.â Steve holds out his makeshift bouquet of yellow roses, all but thrusting them into your hands with comical haste, as if heâs afraid something will come up and snatch them away. But you accept them happily, admiring how pretty they look.
âTheyâre beautiful,â you bring them up to your nose and give them a delicate sniff, âYellow is the colour of hope.â
âItâs also your favourite colour.â
You nod, pleased that he knows this. âIt is!â
Itâs when youâre both sat down under the tree, that he takes both your hands in his, and looks at you with meaningful eyes.
âI donât think you know how much you mean to me.â
âSteveââ
âI love every single thing about you. I love how brave you are, and how resilient no matter what life throws at you.â He tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear, âI love your eyes, your nose, your mouth,â he kisses each of the features that heâs listed down, till youâre giggling and looking up at him in awe. âI love how smart you are, the way you knew all the answers during classes but you were too shy to raise your hand. I love how you mouthed the answers to yourself anyways, and I love how you were always right.â
You feel a surge of emotion, but heâs not done.
âI love how you rehearse your order under your breath whenever we go out to eat, and I love how relieved you look when I order for you instead. I love your big hoodies even though I told you before that you shouldnât wear them. You look cute in them, actually. I always secretly thought that.â
He takes a velvet case out of his pocket, and your breath catches in your throat. Whatever you were going to say dies away, and you look on as he opens the box. The diamond glints in the sunlight, so blindingly bright and pretty, attached to a delicate gold band.
âI know Iâve promised you many things in the past, and Iâve hurt you and broken those promises, too. But Iâm telling you now that I will love and protect you and our baby with my whole life. And I want you to be my wife, so I can take care of you. So, baby, will you marryââ
âYes!â You cut him off, unable to wait any longer because you feel this bursting happiness in your heart. You kiss him hard, catching him off-guard but he recovers quickly, holding you gently in his lap while your mouth moves against his. His hand splays over your tummy, and you really do feel loved. Perhaps for the first time in your whole life⊠you really do feel loved.
He slips the ring on your finger and you admire how perfectly it fits. And then the two of you kiss some more, bathing in the sunlight of the hot summerâs day, and in a way, you feel like you were always meant to end up here. That this was that hot summerâs day youâd always been yearning for every time youâd looked at him and felt that hunger, that longingâŠ
You feel it now too, almost tenfold. And you draw back, taking in a deep breath. It happens suddenly and yet itâs the surest youâve ever felt about anything ever. You push aside the neckline of shirt, till enough of his neck is bare to you. And then you bite down hard. Not too hard at first, because youâre afraid of hurting him. But then that feral feeling takes over you, and you hold his biceps tightly to steady yourself, and you bite down till you feel his skin breaking.
You lick and suck against his pale, broken skin as he holds you close, holding your head in place as if thereâs nowhere else heâd rather want you to be. And when you pull away and see the little jagged mark youâve left on him, a thrill ripples through you like no other.
Now he was yours too.
âDid that hurt?â You ask him.
He scoffs, ever the macho alpha. But thereâs love in his eyes when he speaks. âA little. But itâs a good kind of hurt.â
You pepper kisses on your mark, trying to soothe any pain you may have caused him. And then he cups your face with his hands and catches your lips with his own, giving you the most passionate kiss youâve ever felt from him.
âSteve?â You say breathlessly between kisses.
âYeah, baby?â
âI love you too.â
The end.
***
EPILOGUE â ONE YEAR LATER
You donât know if itâs the nightmare that jolts you awake, or if itâs the sound of Rosie crying. But you wake up to a dark, empty room. The bed is empty, save for you. You scramble up to see that Rosieâs crib is empty too (you keep it right next to your bed because you need to know sheâs there all the time). But sheâs not here right now, and neither is Steve, and that dark voice inside your head, the one youâve worked so hard to keep out, begins to cackle⊠Theyâve both left youâŠ
You jump to your feet, heart hammering like crazy. But you find Steve in Rosieâs nursery, with your little baby girl in his arms. Or his one arm, and she looks so tiny and comfy, nestled on her dad as he gently rocks her, holding her bottle in his opposite hand. You immediately sag in relief.
Steve looks up at you, âShe was crying so I came to check on her. I thought Iâd let you sleep.â
You let out a ragged breath, âI thought youâd left me.â
Often, you wonder if heâs sick of your whole âI thought youâd left meâ thing. There have been many occasions in the past year, where youâve gone to that dark place in your mind, where youâve woken up in the dark and somehow convinced yourself that heâs gone and heâs taken your Rosie with him. You still have nightmares about this happening. Not every night, but enough times that youâve woken up crying.
Your therapist says that trauma and insecurities donât heal overnight. That itâll take time for you to completely believe that no one is ever going to leave you again like how your parents did. And that itâs important for you to have a strong support system that makes you feel reassured and safe. And Steve never hesitates to tell you that heâs never leaving you, that heâs right here, that everythingâs okay. Youâre amazed at how much patience he has when it comes to this, but he does, and youâre grateful for it.
Now, he lets you hold Rosie before gathering you in his arms and kissing the top of your head. âIâm right here, baby. Itâs all okay, Iâm never leaving you.â
You calm down, letting him lead you to the armchair in the corner of the nursery. He sits down, pulling you on top of him and switching on the lamp. Rosie coos in your arms, awake and smiling despite it being the middle of the night. Sheâs such a happy baby, and you love that about her because she makes you happy too. So overwhelmingly happy, that you want to smother her face in kisses and cuddle her all day and all night.
She nestles closer against your bosom, and you and Steve both watch her in awe. Sheâs so special, so perfect. Only five months old and yet you canât imagine your life without her. When she was born, sheâd been so, so tiny and sheâd cried so much, but youâd held her against your chest and sheâd calmed down, and it made you feel so needed, so wanted.
Steve had been scared to hold her at first, convinced that heâd somehow hurt her. You also suspected that he was afraid sheâd cry if he held her, reject him somehow. But those little fears had gone away quickly, probably because she was so cute and he couldnât resist cuddling her, even when she was a newborn and practically just the size of his hand. And you couldnât get enough of watching him with her, because a year ago heâd been a cruel fratboy hell-bent on his mean ways. And now?
Now he was a father. And your husband.
The wedding had been small, just you (pregnant and beginning to show) and Steve and his parents. âI donât want anyone else there, Steve. Just us. Please,â you had begged. Maybe it was because his friends werenât your friends, or maybe it was because you were insecure that youâd have no one there for you. No one to walk you down the aisle, no one to go pick your wedding dress with, just no one at all.
Steve had agreed â it was your special day after all. Mrs. Rogers â hell-bent on making it to her sonâs wedding despite the fact that she had to do so in a wheelchair â helped you pick your dress by having a large selection delivered to the house. Youâd chosen a flowy dress that reached till your knees, and youâd gotten married on a private beach owned by the Rogers family. And despite the fact that it was Steveâs father who walked you down the aisle instead of your own, you felt happy.
Youâd even received a card from Peter, congratulating you on your marriage. The message was brief, but it touched you nonetheless. Youâd spoken to him once more after the day of the big game when heâd tried to save you from Steve. It had taken a while to persuade Steve to let you see him, but you felt like you needed this closure, and so did Peter. And so, in a coffee shop with Steve waiting in the car outside, youâd sat across from Peter and apologised from the bottom of your heart. Youâd told him how you never meant to hurt him, but how you really felt you belonged with Steve.
You also told him you were pregnant, and that got him to crack a smile. He told you that you didnât need to apologise, and that if this was what you truly wanted, then he wouldnât stop you from living your happiness. He looked you in the eye and told you youâd be a great mother, and he wished you all the best. He also told you that he had to move on with his life, but heâd be there if you ever needed him.
You knew you could never truly be friends with Peter again, not in the way you were before. But his card meant a lot to you anyways.
Steve received congratulatory calls and cards from a bunch of different people, one of them being Sam. He was off traveling the world, and heâd met a girl called Wanda who he wanted to settle down with. He told Steve that he hoped you all could hang out when he brought her back. You told Steve to tell him that youâd like that very much.
After getting married, the two of you had decided to stay in the Rogersâ mansion, much to Mrs. Rogersâ glee. Steve had told you that his family had an apartment on the upper east side as well as one in Brooklyn that you guys could move in to, if you so pleased. He also said that once heâd settled in with a proper job, heâd begin building a dream house for the two of you and your future family. He was currently working in his dadâs company which he was set to take over, but he wanted to go into politics too.
You were happy to stay in the mansion, however. You enjoyed Mrs. Rogersâ company, and you really considered her a friend. Finally, a friend. An unlikely one, but a friend nevertheless. She was stark and honest about her cancer, and it filled you with sorrow knowing that she wouldnât be here forever. Steve was still confident that sheâd get better (or that was how he acted) and Mrs. Rogers told you that youâd have to be strong when the day came, because she knew that he wouldnât be.
By some miracle, youâd also persuaded Steve to let you go back to university. He wasnât thrilled about it, but you remembered Mrs. Rogersâ advice on how heâd listen to you when it truly came down to it. And he had, he had, he had! You had just finished your sophomore year, having done most of it online, and passed all your exams with flying colours. You didnât know if you were going to go back for junior year this fall or if youâd differ it till next year (since Rosie took up so much of your time) but you knew you had the option either way, which you liked.
But right now, at this very moment in time, youâre content just to watch Rosie babble and coo in your arms. Steve strokes her chubby cheek and her little fist grabs his pinkie finger, and your heart just feels so full, your nightmare already forgotten and almost laughable in comparison to how happy you feel right now, encased in your little family. A family of your very own, just like Steve had promised you so long ago.
âShe looks exactly like you.â Steve comments softly, and you chirp happily in agreement. Rosie did have a few of Steveâs features, like his freckles. But everything else was so⊠you. Often, Steve compared her to the baby picture he had of you in his wallet, the one heâd taken from your childhood room, and the resemblance was uncanny. She was you all over again.
âShe does, doesnât she?â You smile, hugging her close. And then your heart drops, and you feel your eyes well with tears at the sudden overwhelming thought of being unable to protect her. âI donât want her to be like me, Steve. I donât want her to be shunned and bullied, and unable to stand up for herself. I donât, I canât, IâŠâ
He shushes you with kisses, scenting you and calming you down like how he always does, stroking your face and gathering your tears on his fingers. Rosie gazes up at you imploringly, reaching a chubby hand up to pat at your face as if to mimic her daddy, and you canât help but smile through your tears.
âIf sheâs anything like you, sheâll be perfect. But sheâll also be perfect if sheâs nothing like you.â Steve presses more kisses to the top of your head as you keep your eyes glued on your baby daughter, wanting so badly to protect her from all the cruelty this world had to offer. âLook, why donât we just take it day by day? Just know that Iâll protect her with my life, and sheâll grow up safe and loved.â
You nod. When had he become so wise?
âGah!â Rosie squeals cheerfully, as if to say she agrees. The two of you canât help but laugh.
âThatâs right, Rosie, you agree with daddy, donât you? Thatâs because daddy is always right,â Steve coos, taking her from your arms and pressing a gazillion kisses to her face. âYour mamaâs just worried about you, but you gotta tell her that youâll be fine.â He thrusts the baby at your face in typical Steve fashion (albeit gently). âGo on, Rosie, tell her!â
Rosie blinks before kicking her feet that are encased in her adorable yellow footie pyjamas, smiling and babbling happily. Itâs her own baby language of cute yet nonsensical sounds, but it touches you nonetheless.
If someone asked you a year ago whether you thought youâd be here now, youâd probably have burst into tears because of your own bleak expectations. But watching Steve and your little baby girl, you realise that this is your happy place. Here, in the dead of the night with the only light coming from the dim, orange lamp. Here, where you watch as Steve gets up and twirls Rosie around and around, gently throwing her up in the air and catching her as she laughs and laughs. Youâd had a heart attack the first time heâd done that, but now you trusted him with it, and the sound of her gleeful laughter was the most beautiful thing on earth to you.
âCâmere,â Steve reaches for your hand and pulls you up, twirling you around before yanking you into him (again, gently, as he holds Rosie with his other arm). You crash into his chest before he tips you back, kissing you sweetly as your arms wind around his neck. âYou make me so happy,â he whispers against your lips, âboth my girls make me so happy.â
âYou make me happy too,â you say shyly. One year later, and he still makes you shy and gives you butterflies. But youâre so comfortable with him now, so at ease, so familiar, so safe. You guess thatâs what love is, and itâs also how much heâs grown as a man. He still has his rules, heâs still that strict alpha that he always was. But heâs also more laidback, sweeter, kinder⊠You think itâs Rosie who has softened him up, but everyone else (his mom) tells you that itâs you too.
âOh yeah? I bet I could make you happier, baby.â Steve smirks, bouncing Rosie up and down in his arms while she plays with the stubble on his face. âWhen are you gonna let me give you another one?â
Your eyes widen, heat rushing to your cheeks. You werenât opposed to the idea of another baby (although Steveâs vision of having at least five children was something youâd take a while to wrap your head around). But right now, you really just wanted to focus on Rosie. Along with Steve, she was your whole entire world.
Rosieâs tiny arms reach out for you, and it secretly thrills you how you seem to be her favourite person. You take her from Steve, rocking her gently in your arms before you let her rest her head on your shoulder. Her eyes droop, long lashes (just like her daddyâs) fanning her chubby cheeks. All that laughing and being thrown in the air had tired her out, and it only takes her a few more minutes to fall asleep.
âI love you, my beautiful baby girl,â you whisper to her softly, brushing her hair off her face, âsweet dreams.â
You and Steve watch her for a while after youâve put her down in her crib, her tiny stuffed bear clutched in her fist. Itâs something the two of you do quite often, as if youâre both in awe of this perfect little thing that you created together. Steveâs arm winds around your waist, and you lean your head against his chest.
âWe need to get her a new bear.â Steve points out. Rosieâs favourite stuffed animal is already kind of tattered, its yellow bow-tie hanging off where the stitching has come loose.
âOr her daddy could sew this one back, just like you did with mine.â You glance at Steve Junior, who is comfortably lounging on his usual place in the middle of the bed.
Steve scoffs. Till this day, he denies it. âI did not. I paid someone to do it.â
âWhatever you say.â
He takes you back to bed, and you lie comfortably on his chest, breathing in his scent. Moments like this make all of your insecurities feel insignificant in comparison. Yes, your mother had left you, and sure, your father had too. And every now and again, you feel strong pangs of hurt when you think about it too much. But the pangs were dulling over time, and they could never contest against the strong feelings of love you had within you now. Love for your baby, love for Steve. Love for your perfect little family. And maybe a little love for yourself, too (you were working on it).
 And so, every time that dark voice inside you tries to pull you down under, all you have to do is remember the little things that you have the luxury of enjoying every single day now. Like the feel of Rosieâs chubby fist as it grabs your finger with crazy strong baby strength. Or the way Steveâs eyes light up when he comes home to you both after a long day of work. The feel of his soft hair as you card your fingers through it, how he buries his face in your neck and sighs. The sound of Rosieâs laughter, the way Steve says your name.
You know one day youâll conquer that dark voice inside your head, silence it forever. In the meantime, you cuddle closer to Steve, brush your hand over his chest. Lean up to kiss his cheek, smile at how his lashes fan his cheekbones. A sense of calm washes over your chest, and you donât feel afraid of your nightmares anymore.
You settle down, and you go to sleep with a smile on your face.
A/N: The end. And from the bottom of my heart, thank you. Thank you for letting me tell this story from beginning to end. I really hope you found it satisfactory. There is so much I want to say, but I will write a separate post for that. Thank you for reading. I love you all. Please reblog and PLEASE leave feedback, i am dying to know what you guys think!
link to my ko-fi
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
Covering the Classics Part 17 | Bob Floyd x OC
Summary: Anna is giving herself one last chance to get her manuscript before she moves on without it. She has friends, a job she loves, and a man who believes in her. There's nothing else she really needs now, but she's going all in on a plan that is perhaps just crazy enough to work.
Warnings: Angst, fluff, espionage, adult language, 18+
Length: 3400 words
Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)
Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more!
Bob watched Anna emerge from the bathroom in one of Jessica's cocktail dresses after he picked her up from work and brought her back to his house. "I'm thinking this one?" she asked, turning back and forth in front of his bedroom mirror while wearing the black and white dress. It was a little snug and also a bit short on her compared to how it would probably fit Jessica, but he thought she looked incredible.
"Yeah," Bob agreed, standing behind her and zipping it up. "It's perfect." Seeing her in wedding rings was startling to him, and he had to remind himself over and over again that she had borrowed them as a cover. As part of the ruse. That they belonged to his friend. That she wasn't reconciling with Kevin. "What time do we need to be at the hotel?" he asked, running his hand along her hip as she started to clip her hair up onto her head.
"Eight o'clock," she confirmed. "The cocktail reception lasts from eight until ten, and there's no way Kevin will want to miss a single minute with all of these people who seemingly worship him."
Bob tightened his hold on her, his distaste for Kevin clearly written on his face as he looked in the mirror over her shoulder. She told him he needed to change out of his uniform, so he was wearing a plain undershirt and jeans. He looked a bit ridiculous next to Anna as she swiped some eyeliner on in the shape of a cat-eye before coating her lips in a deep red stain.
"That's pretty," he whispered, and he was rewarded with her turning around to press a kiss to his cheek, leaving her perfect lip marks behind. He didn't bother to wipe it away. He was so thankful she wasn't trying to do this on her own, even though she seemed calm and confident. He didn't want Kevin to have even the slightest opportunity to be alone with her. "You'll call me if you need me to come in," he said.
"Yes," she confirmed for probably the fifth time. "I'll keep my phone on me."
"And you'll get out of there if you don't feel safe?"
Anna nodded up at him, looking so beautiful with a soft smile on her lips. "Yes. My manuscript is not as important as I am."
Bob kissed her deeply. She finally got it. She tried to swipe at the lipstick smudged on his mouth, but they left his house hand in hand with some of the stain left on his lips. He helped her into his truck and took his time driving up to Carlsbad as she navigated along the way for him. When he reached for her hand, she laced her fingers with his, and he chuckled.
"I kind of hate her rings on you," he muttered. "I wonder what Bradley had to say about that one."
Anna made a face when he glanced her way. "I'm sure he's still asking her to explain where they went, and the more she says my name, the unhappier he's going to be with me."
"Nah," Bob replied as he made a left turn. "You're one of us."
She squeezed his hand. "That still sounds almost too good to be true. And we do need to return her rings tonight so he doesn't have a full panic attack."
"That sounds fair," he murmured, looking for a place to stop his truck and let her out. The swanky hotel where Kevin's medical conference was being held was just up the block, and now his heart was pounding.
"This is perfect," she told him, pointing out the window before unbuckling her seatbelt. "Just leave me off right here." He put the truck in park, but when she tried to pull her hand away, he held on tighter. She paused and looked at him before leaning in to kiss his cheek and saying, "I got this, Bob. It's okay." When she tried once more to get out of his truck, he tugged her closer to him. "You have to let me-"
"Anna, I love you."
She froze at his announcement, but he was getting tired of not telling her. He'd been thinking it for ages. He thought he almost lost her before, and he wasn't going to let Kevin of all people potentially ruin her night without her knowing she at least had him to come back to. So as she crawled across the seat toward him, he repeated himself. "I love you."
Anna climbed onto his lap as her lips met his cheek and his chin. "I want to listen to you say that all night," she whispered, finally kissing his lips. "And I want to spend an hour telling you all about how much I love you. But I need about thirty minutes to get shit done first."
Bob laughed as he nipped at her smiling lips. "No rush. I'll still love you in thirty minutes." He would probably still love her in thirty years, and he was more than willing to tell her that later. But right now he had to accept one last kiss from her before he watched her hop down from his truck, put Jessica's high heels on, and start to head for the hotel entrance.
---------------------------
"You can do this," Anna told herself as she tried not to stumble in the shoes that were a half size too small with heels which were way too high. "Just stay focused." But Bob loved her! He said it, and he meant it, and now all she wanted was to run back to his truck. But this was her last chance.
It was ten minutes after eight. Kevin's schedule was giving her enough time to get what she wanted, but only if it went smoothly. Anna had never been much of an actress, but in this exact moment, she needed to pull off an Emmy winning performance if she stood a chance at getting into Kevin's room. She cleared her throat and squared her shoulders as she walked into the beautiful lobby, opened her clutch purse, and pouted in frustration. "Oh no," she muttered loudly. There were a lot of people around, chatting and heading to the bar just past the concierge desk. She threw her head back in faux annoyance and marched in the terrible shoes toward the counter.
"How can I help you this evening?" asked the young man behind the desk with a smile.
Anna sighed and set her clutch down and glanced at his name tag. She made sure the rings on her finger were shining under the light as she said, "In my rush to get to the wine bar down the block in time for cocktail hour, I left my new necklace and my key card in my room. Think you could print me a new one, Marcus? My husband just gifted me the necklace and expects me to be wearing it."
"Of course, Mrs...."
"Webber. Mrs. Kevin Webber. We're here for the Neurological conference. My husband is a keynote speaker." She had to fight back the urge to choke on the words as she forced a smile.Â
"Right," Marcus replied, tapping away on his keyboard. "Webber.... I found the reservation, but it's only under your husband's name."
When he looked up and met her eyes, Anna wanted to run away, climb back into Bob's truck and give up. Her heart was pounding as she tapped her fingers on the counter and rolled her eyes. "He always does that when he books a room for work. But I'm definitely linked to his rewards account."
She tried to keep her face neutral as she awaited a response. There was no way Kevin would have taken the time to update anything so trivial. He was never one to take the time to update anything. That always fell to Anna. She watched Marcus start typing again as he said, "I'll just need to check your ID, Mrs. Webber."
"Absolutely," she replied coolly, pulling her New Jersey state driver's license that was about to expire from her clutch and setting it down for him. The longer he typed away, the more she started to panic. She wondered if Kevin was already having his first drink at the bar or if he had moved on to his second. As long as he was there, it didn't much matter to her what he was doing.
Finally, Marcus pulled a new key card from the drawer in front of him, programmed it and tucked it into an envelope. He conveniently wrote #609 on it and slid it toward her. "Is there anything else I can do for you this evening Mrs. Webber?"
She shook her head, picked up her license and the key and said, "I think this is all I need. Thank you, Marcus."
Anna turned toward the bank of elevators and counted each step. One, two, three, four, five.... She tried to keep her pace as unhurried as she could while still getting away from the desk quickly. She pushed the little up arrow and waited for the elevator to arrive while she glanced around the lobby to be sure there was nobody who had taken notice of her. When the elevator got there, she ducked inside and pushed the button for floor six and pulled her phone out to text Bob.
I got the key. I'm in the elevator.
When she arrived at the correct floor, she put her phone away and held onto the key card with shaking hands. She could do this. She knew she could. But one step onto the plush carpet, and she stumbled in Jessica's high heels. "Shit," she gasped, reaching for the wall as the elevator doors slid closed behind her. Could she really take Kevin's computer? Technically speaking, it was hers, too. They picked it out together. When he started medical school. She paid for it with her credit card. The one he then maxed out.
She pushed herself off from the wall, more pissed off than upset. Kevin didn't deserve her concern at the moment. He deserved nothing. Room 609. She found it down the left side of the hallway. Just as she raised the key card to swipe it, the door jerked open an inch, and she gasped. Fingers wrapped around the door from the inside as it opened slowly, and she ran as fast as she could for the stairwell, tucking herself inside just as she saw Kevin step into the hallway.
"Fuck," she gasped under her breath, afraid she might throw up. It was close to 8:30 now. He should have been at the cocktail party. Why was he in his room? Terrified that he'd seen her, Anna stood in the stairwell with her back pressed to the wall. She counted to fifty and then to one hundred, but the door never opened. When she peeked out into the hallway again, it was deserted.
"You can do this," she whispered, even as the thought occurred to her that he may still be in the hotel room. There was no way she'd be able to overpower him if he was. Before she could give it too much thought, she knocked on the door and then pressed her ear to it. When nobody answered, she did it again. Then she swiped her card, watched the light turn green, and pushed the door slowly open.
The hotel room smelled like Kevin's cologne, and she gagged, but after a quick inspection of the bathroom and closet, he was definitely gone. Her hands were shaking like crazy now as she checked the desk area for his computer, but it wasn't there. She dropped to her knees and crawled across the floor to his computer bag, but it was empty except for folders and pamphlets from the conference.
"Shit," she said, eyes stinging with tears. She made it this far, and she didn't want to give up now. As she crawled around the king size bed, she saw the computer charging cable on the floor, plugged into the outlet along with his phone charger. And there it sat, tucked halfway under the bed. The laptop.
Anna lunged for it, opening it and waking it up from standby mode. She was prompted to enter a password, and she smiled; Kevin never changed anything. It had to be the same one he was using since college. She entered it, and her smile vanished.Â
Incorrect Password
"You're joking," she gasped. This was supposed to be the easy part. This was the last thing she was convinced would trip her up. Perhaps she had just entered it wrong with her shaky hands, so she tried it again.
Incorrect Password
"Fuck!" Panic was setting in now. Should she just take it and risk pissing him off if the manuscript wasn't even on it? Her intention had been to check before she did. Her gaze settled on the little fingerprint reader down in the bottom corner near the keyboard. There was simply no way. If he had taken the time to actually update his passwords, then he would have taken the time to remove Anna's fingerprint access as well.
She bit her lip and slid her index finger down to the reader, and she was immediately rewarded with full access to the computer. Her eyes went wide as she tapped on the search option and entered the file name of her manuscript and hit enter, and when it popped up on the screen she burst into tears. She scrolled down and it was there. It was all there.
"Fuck you, Kevin," Anna said, voice hoarse with emotion as she yanked the plug from the wall, wrapped the cord around the laptop, and made her way to the door. She needed to act completely normal right now even though she felt like her heart might burst into a million brightly colored pieces of magic. She rode the elevator down, praying that Kevin was getting intoxicated enough that he wouldn't realize something was missing from his room right away. For the first time in her life, she didn't even care if he brought another woman back with him, but she did almost feel bad for pregnant Alyssa back in New Jersey. Almost.
When the doors slid open revealing the bustling lobby, Anna nearly tripped for the last time. She took her friend's shoes off and held them in one hand with her purse as she started speed walking toward the exit. She didn't see Kevin anywhere, but that didn't mean much since he had been in his room when she got here. Now she was counting on Bob to be where he said he would be.
Once she was outside, she immediately turned to the right toward the loading zone. She started to run barefoot down the sidewalk, and that's when she saw him. He was perfect, standing there next to the passenger side door in his white undershirt, running his hands nervously through his hair.
"Bob!" she called out, her feet already aching, and he came racing up the sidewalk to meet her.
"You got it!" he whispered excitedly. "Anna, Baby, you got it!"
"It's still on here," she breathed as he scooped her up with everything still held tight in her hands. "I got in with my fingerprint and I saw it, Bob. I have it." He kissed the side of her neck once, but otherwise he didn't stop walking. "Did you see Kevin?" she asked.Â
"Yeah," he grunted, setting her down and pulling the door open for her. "He headed the other way up the block. When he came out after you went inside, I kind of started to freak out a little bit. If I didn't hear from you again in five more minutes, I was going to make my way inside. But you didn't need me at all."
Anna tossed everything onto the seat and scrambled inside, anxious to get out of here, but not before she leaned down to kiss Bob one more time. "That's just the thing though. I'm pretty sure I actually do need you."
He was smiling as he said, "Let's go home."
---------------------------
Anna was holding the computer to her chest while Bob drove down the dark local roads of Carlsbad and got onto the highway. She didn't say much, but she looked so happy, and eventually her hand crept across the seat to take his. When he took the first street off the bridge instead of the second one, she asked, "Where are we going?"
Bob laughed. "Just because he hasn't been freaking out at you all night doesn't mean he hasn't been texting and calling me nearly nonstop."
"Who?" she asked, clearly puzzled as Bob drove through the quiet end of Coronado. When he pulled up in front of the Spanish Revival style house that had every light, interior and exterior, shining bright, she laughed too. "I almost forgot about the rings in all the excitement."
Bob watched as Bradley came running out onto his porch in his slippers, gym shorts, and his hideous tie dye shirt with a concerned look on his face. His wife was right behind him waving merrily from the porch in a bathrobe that looked too big for her as he ran down the walkway toward the truck. Bob watched as Anna twisted both rings from her finger and then rolled down the window, and in an instant, Bradley's entire head was thrust inside, eyes searching wildly.
"Do you have them?" he asked loudly, reaching for Anna's open palm and the rings. "Jesus Christ." He turned around and shouted to his wife, "They have them!"
"I told you they did," she replied easily, shaking her head. "It's not like she was set on stealing something tonight, Beer Boy."
Bob and Anna both started laughing as Bradley turned back toward them, looking much calmer with his wife's rings in his hand. "These rings are so important to me. Elvis himself married us in Vegas with them."
Anna patted him on the cheek and said, "And they're both just as perfect as when Advanced Calculus gave them to me earlier. They worked like a charm, so thank you."
He nodded and sighed in relief before heading back up to the porch with a lot more swagger in his step now. While he was walking away, Bob heard him tell his wife, "Put these back on immediately, Sugar, or I'm getting my Beta Gamma paddle out."
"Oh," Anna gasped as Bob started to pull away from the curb. "That actually makes a lot of sense," she muttered, holding onto the computer once again.
"They are in for a wild night," Bob told her, heading toward his house now. "And so is Kevin. In a much less fun way."
"And so are you," Anna said with a little smirk.Â
"I don't have a fraternity paddle," Bob replied as his cheeks grew warm.
"We won't need one of those for a good time. You have a collection of poetry that you wrote about me, and I think I'd like to hear you read it."
Bob was already twitching with need. "Will you put your black bra and panties on again?"
"What do you think I'm wearing under this dress? As soon as I pull my manuscript from the cloud and copy everything over to my own computer, I'm going to spend the rest of the night thoroughly thanking you for believing in me when I didn't believe in myself. And then we can discuss the plans to banish Kevin permanently."
There were so many things he wanted to do, but he knew his list would have to start after hers was complete. They would take care of her manuscript and get rid of Kevin. Then he could bring up going on some actual dates before she moved in for good and let their books get all mixed up. He was itching to get back to the bookstore again. He was dying to take her to Chippy's.
"You don't have to thank me for anything, Anna," he said softly, lacing his fingers with hers as he drove. "But when you finally feel free, just promise me you'll stay."
----------------------------
Anna! You badass!! Let's banish Kevin back to New Jersey forever! Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 18
@thedroneranger
@theamuz
@cherrycola27
@katiedid-3
@yuckosworld
@je-suis-prest-rachel
@callsign-magnolia
@avaleineandafryingpan
@t-nd-rfoot
@eddiemunsonreader
@wintercap89
@the-fever-of-mankind
@sio-ina-bottle
@lovingperfectionsblog
@daisydont-lie
@sappy-seresin
@birdy-bat-writes
@cutelittlefakejourneys
@cottagecori
@fandom-princess-forevermore
@sotalife
@novastories
@xoxabs88xox
@rileyanntoinette
@mannsachds
@midnightmagpiemama
@greatszu
@zetasaturno99
@lovingrobertfloyd
@taytaylala12
@captain-fandomwriter58
@grxcisxhy-wp
@hobireasns
@wolfquake23
@paintlavillered
@seitmai
@noonenuts
@amiets2
@imnotcreativeenoughforthisblog
@lonelysoul50
@sweetwhispersofchaos
@cruelmissdior
@sagittarius-flowerchild
@angelbabyange
@eternallyvenus
@sgt-barnesveins
@kmc1989
@libbyaller
#bob floyd x oc#robert bob floyd x oc#robert bob floyd#bob floyd#bob floyd imagine#bob floyd fic#bob floyd fanfiction#robert floyd imagine#robert floyd#robert floyd fanfiction#robert floyd fic#robert floyd x oc#top gun imagine#top gun maverick imagine#top gun fanfiction#top gun maverick fanfiction#roosterforme#covering the classics
352 notes
·
View notes
Text
Sirene asteroid (1009) observations
Sagittarius Sirene people appeal to others when they're fulfilling their purpose or having a clear direction in their lives. For example, my cousin has this placement, and she's able to appeal to others when she's so sure about being a dancer, believing that she was made for that, following the direction set by her heart/intuition without questioning it.
I have this placement too, and I think people come to me a lot in search for answers, to understand themselves better since Sagittarius is all about expanding ourselves.
Sirene in the 5th house is about mesmerizing people when you're in the spotlight, being confident and letting yourself shine. Also when performing, so this is a good placement for celebrities. My cousin has this, and she grabs everyone's attention when dancing, plus her personality (5H) is very charismatic.
I also have Sirene in the 5th House, and I'm not so comfortable in the spotlight which to me comes from the Capricorn degree (10°, 22°). This brings delays and challenges when it comes to you expressing or getting used to this alluring energy. You have lessons to learn before you're able to own this energy.
A Leo degree shows that you're confident to use this energy, you were born to be seen and to shine under the spotlight! Guess who has this. Yes, my cousin đđ»âïž It's worth noting though, that she has insecurities and suffers from anxiety, but she still loves the spotlight and wants to shine.
Libra Sirene attracts people when they show a chill attitude, by wanting to make everyone feel comfortable or included, by using a soft voice and having a great sense of aesthetics. My dad, for example, uses a soft voice when he wants to be polite or liked by others, and shows a super chill attitude with my sister and I's friends. A couple of my girl friends simped for him đ·
My sister has this placement too and she's the type to try and include everyone in the conversation, plus she too softens her voice when being polite or wanting to be liked? She also has a great eye for fashion. And with her friends she appears more chill than how she really is (she's crazy, your honor - in a good way).
Jungkook from BTS has Libra Sirene and his singing voice is very soft compared to what I thought it would sound like at first.
He also has Sirene in the 9th House so he might drawn in more foreign fans than korean. This placement could indicate being alluring when you're open to learn from other cultures or expand your understanding of things. Think about ambiences like college, school, foreing countries.
Scorpio Siren could be appealing when they're intense, reserved, observant, alert. Also, when they're being toxic (controlling or uninterested) or give off that aura of bad boy. For example, one of my exes has this, and he pulled me in with little to no effort, he used to take his time replying to my messages and I waited for him, thinking about what he could be doing and wishing for his attention. đ€ą
A high school friend has this placement too, and he had this air or mystery when he actually was doing nothing? He has Scorpio Sun conjunct Sirene, and he wasn't easy to get close to at first. It's like he gave off an air of "I'm on my own, don't bother me", and some girls pinned after him.
Virgo Sirene people are alluring when they keep a humble attitude, lending their attention to you and recognizing they can learn something from anyone. My grandma and two friends (a guy and a girl) sometimes would ask me for advice, to explain something to them or to give them my opinion about something, and as I reply they'd look at me with the utmost attention, not wanting to miss any detail. They look at you recognizing the value of your words and that's so wholesome, it makes you feel heard and appreciated.
Sirene in the 1st House might give a great first impression considering it's the house of beginnings. They might be the person people notice or get curious about first in a group, and nobody knows why; it's unconscious. They also might atract people when they take initiative, which movilizes or motivates others. They seem like they would do good in a leadership position, people would be drawn to listening to them (especially when they're in the energy of the sign their Sirene asteroid falls under).
For example, a Virgo Sirene in the 1st House person might drawn people in by taking iniciative and assuming the role of a leader in a humble way, paying attention to everyone's input and striving to reach their ideal.
#astrology#astro placements#astro community#astro posts#astrology observations#aesthetic#birth chart#natal chart#astro chart#sirene asteroid#sirene#anime
732 notes
·
View notes
Note
Love the 0T8 story and requests... I have a request, please...
All of the members love on the omega physically, but chan really wants to be the one who breeds her first. He has this overwhelming desire to see her full with his pups. He has dreams and " gets off" to the image of her and hearing her sweet moans. One day he see omega helping han with a sprained wrist and seeing her all motherly and lightly scolding han for running in sock in the house, just makes him feral. He has reader go to their shared room and basically tried his best to ask if she would want this, without jumping her. They discuss it and she reveals to him she is due for her heat in 3 days and he rushes to his calendar and notices he is due for a rut at the same time. So they decide to do it then and we'll 3 days later and all the boys away, they go crazy and a few months later, hello plus sign!
âđđ§đ đđȘ đđđđȘ.
Warning: fluff/smut/blood
Summary: Request!
TW! Mention of Mpreg.
Only Felix and Y/n are omegas
A/N: Please note that this isn't my normal content and there is quite a graphic link in the chapter! This was quite very uncomfortable for me cause i never write smuts BUTT it was such an interesting experience and i would not mind writing smuts again if you guys are interested in it. Im just giving you guys a heads-up cause idk how i feel about like my wording and stuff.
â©âË.ââŸââșââ§
đStudio
"Chan you've got to tell her, her heat is in 3 days," Changbin groaned. "Quite frankly i think all of us want to put a baby in her but you're taking too long."
"I know, i know. It's just that. I'm nervous bin," Chan replied. His hands were in his hair as he struggled to focus at the task in hand.
Producing music.
Ever since him and Felix did the show where they had to hang around a toddlers, he couldn't stop thinking about getting his Luna pregnant. He couldn't stop thinking about her walking around all swollen with a bump.
Just the thought about him and his packmate's putting so many babies in her made him go feral and he couldn't take it anymore.
"Well you better figure it out because lix's heat is after that and if you want both omegas carrying pups time isnt on your side," Changbin shrugged. "You know lixie would never allow to get pregnant before Luna-ssi."
Changbin was right. Felix would never allow to disrespect Y/N like that and the alphas would never get any of the omegas pregnant before he did.
"Don't you think i know that Changbin? Im trying okay? just give me time," He huffed before laying his head down on the table.
đHome
âJagi, I got all the snacks you asked me to get!â Lee Know called out as he walked through the door, hand in hand with Han.
âComing!â Y/N responded quickly, her voice bright with excitement as she hurried down the stairs.
Lee Know smiled at the sound of her little footsteps approaching, followed by a delighted squeal.
âHey babe!â She got on her tiptoes to give him a quick kiss, then turned to Jisung, offering him the same affection.
âWe tried to get everything, but we just couldnât find the heating pads you like, so Channie-hyung said he would bring some on the way back from work,â Lee Know explained, handing her the grocery bags so she could check everything.
âOh myâ you guys are the best! I think thatâs all I need,â she said, her eyes sparkling as she rummaged through the bags.
âIf you need anything else, just tell me, okay?â Lee Know said, removing his jacket and shoes as Han followed suit.
âYour heat is in three days, my love. Please donât forget like last time, and donât eat all the snacks!â Han whined, making his way behind her into the kitchen as she began to unpack.
âIt was one time!â she fake-pouted. âPlus, Iâm going to put these away. Can you help me start on dinner?â She turned to Han, who was already rolling up his sleeves.
âYeah, sure! What should I start with?â Han replied, eager to assist. He washed his hands quickly, ready to make her life a little easier.
âMaybe start with the meat?â Y/N suggested, looking around the kitchen. âThere it isâ itâs quite a bit, so Iâll help once I store these away.â She handed him the package resting on the counter and moved to grab her snacks and drinks for the âheatâ room.
âBe careful! The knife is sharp!â she warned before turning to leave.
âI will,â Han smirked, watching her walk away. Her body moved with a sway, and he couldnât help but groan, cursing his alpha for being so utterly in love with her.
As Y/N walked away, she caught a hint of Hanâs arousal in his scent and giggled softly. She loved how her alphas were so drawn to her; it made her feel confident and beautiful, just as every omega should.
âIâve gotten all the scented clothes I could find and some fresh sheets, baby! Where should I put them?â I.N interrupted as she made her way down the corridor towards the basement.
âIâm about to go downstairs. Can you put them down there? Iâll probably start nesting tonight,â she replied, her eyes sparkling with excitement. She felt an overwhelming rush of love for him as he took care of her so well.
âYeah, sure, anything for you,â he smiled, following her down to her heat room. Her scent grew stronger, wrapping around him like a warm embrace.
âJust place them there,â she said, pointing mindlessly to the bed before starting to stock the fridge with everything they had brought home.
Once I.N placed the clothes down, he made his way over to her, wrapping his arms around her waist. Her scent had become sweeter since last night, and he craved the closeness.
âYou smell so good. Let Alpha take care of you,â he mumbled against her scent gland, his voice low and soothing.
âBaby, I know you wantââ Suddenly, a loud yelp followed by a cry pierced the air, making both of them jump.
Y/N sprang into action, wanting to ensure everything was okay. She dashed out of the room and into the kitchen, I.N hot on her heels.
âWhat? What happened?â she panicked, rushing to Hanâs side and examining his pained face.
âI cut my hand!â he whimpered, seeking comfort from her.
âOh, Hannie, I told you to be careful!â she pouted, gently taking his hand to assess the cut.
âItâs okay, baby. Itâs not that bad. Go to the living room. Iâll be there in a second,â she said, slowly shooing him to sit down. He frowned but obeyed her instructions, reluctantly heading to the living room.
âInnie, can you finish this up? Iâll be back in a bit,â she asked, passing him a clean knife.
âYeah, I got it. Donât even worry,â he replied instantly, releasing a soft scent of pheromones to calm her, sensing the tension in her scent.
Grateful for his help, Y/N grabbed the first aid kit and made her way to the living room. It was empty, meaning the boys were probably in the gaming room or the home studio, likely oblivious to what had just happened.
Rolling her eyes, she sat on Hanâs lap and gently took his injured hand. âHow many times do I have to tell you to be careful with the knife, Jisungieââ she began to scold him, her voice laced with concern.
âIâm home!â The pack alpha called out from the door, interrupting their moment.
âIn here!â Y/N called out, continuing to scold Han as she tended to his hand.
The house smelled sweet, and Chan recognized Y/N's scent immediately. It enveloped the space, overpowering everything else. A mix of honey and vanilla, it was reminiscent of baked goods, filling him with warmth but also an undeniable hunger.
How was he going to face her? His alpha was already growling and howling, barely making it through the door. He hated her heats; they completely unraveled him. Now, on top of that, he was grappling with his own rut, and her intoxicating scent was only making it worse.
âWhatâs going on?â he smiled, forcing cheerfulness as he stepped into the living room and took in the sight of his two mates on the couch.
âHan cut his hand,â Y/N sighed, glancing back at the pouting boy.
âI said Iâm sorry, noona,â Han whined, his voice a mixture of embarrassment and pain.
âI know, baby, but you canât keep being clumsy like this. Just the other day, you twisted your ankle playing football with the boys,â she chastised gently.
âAnd chan you need to talk to him because heâs been getting hurt a lot, He wont listen to me!â she added, furrowing her eyebrows in frustration.
âBabyââ Chan groaned internally. Why was she going into âmommy modeâ right now? Of all times, especially in that sundress he loved. He felt utterly screwed.
âOkay, Iâll talk to him,â he sighed, instinctively covering his front with his laptop bag as he felt heat rise within him.
âGood! Now go get the boys for a snack. You guys have had a long day,â she instructed, her voice sweet and satisfied with herself, completely unaware of how turned on Chan was.
âAll done, baby. Youâll feel better, I promise,â she said, placing a gentle kiss on Hanâs plaster before getting up to clean up the mess. Chan stood there hesitating, his eyes wandering over her body.
This rut was going to kill him, and he felt it tightening around him like a noose.
After dinner, Y/N found herself seated on the floor, carefully trying to help Hyunjin with his brushes when Seungmin called for her running down the steps. She could see the worry etched on his face as he paced in the living room, clearly upset.
âY/Nnie!â he called out, rushing to her side.
âYes, my love? What is it?â She looked up at him, curiosity sparkling in her eyes.
âCan you please help me fix it? It ripped,â Seungmin pouted, sinking to his knees between her legs.
âOh dear,â she frowned, taking in the damage. âI can fix it! Let me grab my sewing box.â With a warm smile, she gently brushed his hair away from his eyes.
âI really need to get you to a haircut,â she sighed, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead before standing up.
âFine, but not too much!â he huffed playfully.
âDeal. Just a trim, I promise.â She took the sweater from his hands, making sure not to disturb the others gathered in the living room.
As Chan watched Y/N interact with Seungmin, he felt even more confident about putting a baby any her. The way she cared for themâso nurturing and lovingâmade his heart race. He couldnât help but imagine her with their future children, how gentle and warm she would be. A blush crept up his cheeks as he entertained some playful thoughts about their future.
âCan I come?â Chanâs voice cut through, curiosity evident in his tone. This might be his chance to steal Y/N away for a moment.
âYes, of course! Itâs going to be boring anyway,â she shrugged, leading the way to her room with Chan close behind. Once there, he settled onto her bed, admiring her as she worked on the sweater.
âY/N?â he called softly.
âHm?â She looked up, and he felt a warmth spread through himâshe was so soft-spoken and gentle.
âWhat do you think about having kids?â he asked, not wanting to waste another moment.
She paused, a small smile forming on her lips. âWell, thatâs kind of my purpose as an omega, you know? To be bred and nurture pups,â she giggled.
âSo youâre open to having a pup right now?â His smile widened, heart racing at the thought.
âYes, baby, of course I am! Iâve been waiting for a while, actually. You know Iâm not getting any younger,â she said, laying the sweater aside to sit on his lap.
âIs this why you boys have been trying to sniff me every time we⊠well, you know?â she teased, raising an eyebrow.
When omegas get pregnant, their scent changes distinctly, and it was no secret the boys had been checking to see if she was expecting.
âY-yeah, but we wanted to make sure you were sure since your heat is coming up soon, and I want to be the firstââ he stammered, feeling a rush of excitement.
âIâm all yours, baby. You can get me pregnant,â she confirmed, and Chan felt like he was soaring. His hands wrapped around her, pulling her into a deep, lingering kiss.
âI love you,â he whispered against her lips.
âI love you too,â she replied, her eyes sparkling with joy.
Trigger Warning 18+:
The next day was rough on Y/Nâs body. Her cramps had begun, and all she could do was stay in the heat room, wanting to avoid triggering any of the boysâ ruts. Chan was already feeling his own rut coming on, and it would be difficult for the pack to function with two of their mates in such a state.
She had successfully built her nest, surrounded by soft blankets and pillows, and now she was nestled in the middle of the bed, wearing only a big shirt that Lee Know had given her. The fabric felt comforting against her skin, a reminder of the love and care from her mates, but it did little to quell the throbbing ache in her abdomen.
Y/N shifted slightly, trying to find a comfortable position, but the discomfort was persistent. She focused on her breathing, willing herself to relax.
In between her legs felt like it was on fire as her insides clenched around nothing. Her womb screaming to be filled by one of her alphas. Her nipples were sore under her shirt.
"Hurts..." she whimpered as she squeezed her legs together looking for some type of friction.
Slick was building up and sweat made her hair stick on her skin as her body burned, "Alpha," she cried knowing the boys could hear her through the bond. "Need you please," she whimpered in pain.
Outside the door, all the boys except Chan were trying to calm themselves down. I.N couldn't stop pacing back and forth, and it was starting to irritate everyone.
"I.N, get your shit together!" Seungmin shouted, smacking him hard across the face.
"If he doesn't go down there to breed her, I will," I.N growled, rubbing his cheek.
"He has this one chance and he's not even here," His alpha was furious with Chan, knowing that Y/N was currently suffering down there crying for one of them.
"You know, Chan said he wanted to be the first," Leeknow got up making sure to stand in front of the other alpha. He wanted to make sure I.N didn't charge towards the basement.
"I'm not letting you try to strip that honour from Chan, he's the pack leader. He gets the omega first." The tension in the room thickened as the two alphas squared off, eyes blazing, each unwilling to back down.
"I'm here," Chan stepped into the room.
"No need for all this min, you know it's just his I.N's alpha talking. Step down," Chan's voice was hoarse and he looked awful.
Leeknow scoffed before grabbing his keys. "I can't stand being in here anymore hyung. We have to leave. Just for our sake," He grabbed his duffle bag off the ground.
"We'll see you guys later, Felix call me if things get bad," Changbin was dead serious knowing how rough Chan could get when he was all alpha mode in his rut.
This was a rule in their pack. They knew how possessive they could each get over the omgas so they all just would leave the house and go down to the cabin until it was all over.
"i will, i love you guys and stay safe," Lix walked them out to the car before waving them off and coming back into the house where he found Chan almost collapsing.
His scent was now even stronger and more musky than before. He knew his alpha's rut had began. It was probably because he was now closer to Y/n. She was just a few doors down.
"Oh no, Hyung!" Felix gasped, "Did she trigger your rut already?," he said concerned. Felix quickly ran to the alpha's side to stabilize him from falling.
"I need to go down there now," Chan couldn't take it anymore, his body sweating as he took each step.
"I-if I hurt her, Lix-"
"You won't, Hyung. She trusts you. You've never hurt me before. You'll be okay," Lix kissed his lips before slowly helping him inside the room. His eyes were fully deep dark red. Fuck, game time.
There she lay. her legs spread apart. Little whimpers escaping her lips. She was shaking probably from the pain.
"i'll come check in on you guys in a bit," Felix whispered before quickly leaving the room.
"Alpha?" she looked up from her position, her eyes were glistening.
"I'm here babygirl," he was soft, trying not to jump at her. "Does it hurt hm?"
"Please, n-need you. Need pups. Need to be full. Please," she fell into his arms as her legs quivered. He let her sit right on his throbbing dick.
"You were supposed to start your heat in two days, you just couldn't wait to get pregnant hm? Needed me to breed you so fast?"
"N-no," she whispered. She looked away shy and embarrassed.
"Oh?" he furrowed his eyebrows, "In that case should I just go call-"
"No! No pack alpha always first. Need you. Wanna be a good luna. Wanna carry Alpha's babies," she cried gripping onto his shoulders.
Her nails dug into his skin as her core touched directly on his. She let out a painful groan and started to grind.
"Baby stop that," he groaned, removing her and laying her on the bed. She lets out a whine and cries in frustration.
"I'm gonna take good care of you, my sweet luna."
"Just put it in, please," she interrupted, her eyes flashed gold then blue. Her omega was fully in control.
His hand pinned her down into the bed, his head slowly nuzzling into her shoulder. Her scent fogging his mind as she let out little whimpers.
Her legs wrapped around his waist and he continued to slowly leave small kisses down the sensitive skin around her gland. She felt like slick was now pooling under her as she squirmed at the sensation.
"Gonna let me mark you up, princess?" he growled into her ear. His teeth slowly sank into her skin on the original mark that she had.
She let out a loud moan as he started to lick the bite. She felt like she was going to go feral.
He ripped her shirt apart and she squealed, his mouth landing on her nipple (A/N: Lord save me, I hate this sm).
"Ch-Channie, sensitive," she whimpered, "sensitive." Her body was on fire. Her legs wrapping tighter around him.
He looked up at her before admiring the marks on her neck. He was proud of his work of art.
In no time his pants were on the floor, her eyes landed on his raging boner. His tip pink and swollen already leaking pre-cum.
His hand then slid in between her folds as he slowly guided his dick into her entrance. She's screaming, she's squirming, and both his hands quickly pinned her waist down.
"Behave," he growled and slammed himself inside of her.
"Oh Channie, so deep. Oh my-" Chan's eyes landed on her bare tummy, his panting on top of her.
"Look at this, baby, I can see my dick in your womb," he smirked as he watched the bulge.
"Mnfhggg" she's in lala land. She can't take it anymore, it's just so deep. She cant talk.
"So full alpha," she wraps her arms around his neck.
"Gonna be walking around with a baby bump hm? Gonna grow my baby in you?" He groaned.
"Yes...Please. Yes! Gonna be a pretty mommy just for you," She was crying. Her tears soked the blanket as every thrust pulled her closer to her orgasm.
"So fertile for me baby, look at you," That was the push chan needed. He felt his dick twitch before he came deep inside her.
TW: Chan breeding Y/N link
When Y/Nâs heat finally subsided, she lay in chan's bed now, her body marked with bruisesâdeep blue and purple prints decorating her skin like a canvas of passion. She was completely out of it, lost in the haze of post-heat exhaustion.
"I think you really did it this time, babe," Felix teased, pulling the damp sheets off the bed with a smirk. They were cleaning up the heat room since Felix's heat was soon coming and slick was really hard to get off sheets.
Chan beamed, a glow of satisfaction radiating from him. "Those were the best four days of my life," he replied, his excitement palpable.
Felix chuckled, tossing the sheets into a pile. "Do you think sheâll be able to go to work on Monday?" he asked, his voice light despite the situation.
"I doubt it, but weâll see," Chan groaned, stretching his limbs before grabbing his phone from the bedside table. He felt the weight of fatigue settling in, but his heart was still racing from the intensity of the past few days. "Iâm gonna check on her and then pass out for a few hours. Thank you for taking care of us these past few days," he said, leaning in to plant a soft kiss on Felixâs lips. Without him, Chan wasnât sure how he would have managed to care for Y/N.
"Anytime, hyung," Felix replied, his voice warm.
Chanâs eyes twinkled with mischief. "Are you ready for your turn?" he smirked, a teasing glint in his eye. "I promise Iâll be more gentle with you."
Felix's cheeks flushed a deep crimson. "Yes, alpha, I am," he stammered, the thought of being the next omega to be bred both thrilling and embarrassing. "But I think we should get you rested up first."
"Yeah, well, I canât wait," Chan laughed, the sound echoing with joy as he headed toward the stairs.
As Chan slipped into the room, he couldn't resist the urge to lay down beside Y/N. She was fast asleep, her breathing gentle and even. With a tender smile, he rested his hand on her lower belly, feeling the soft curve beneath his palm.
He marveled at how her abdomen had already begun to swell, a beautiful sign of their growing family. The thought sent a thrill through him, excitement bubbling up inside. Soon, they would be parents, and their pack would expand in ways they had only dreamed of.
Chan closed his eyes for a moment, allowing the reality of it all to wash over him. He imagined their little ones, the laughter and joy they would bring, the chaos and love that would fill their home.
â©âË.ââŸââșââ§
Don't forget to reblog and follow! <3
A/N: Thank you anon!
Taglist: @ihrtlix@bowsnbang@katsukis1wife@thegingerthatwaited@thicccurls
@xxeiraxx @paleangelsweets @klaydohart @eastleighsblog @ivrespace
@galaxy4489 @purplepursepaint @catlove83 @sillystormsstuff @iwuberic
@cocofia143 @royal-shinigami @virluna148 @galaxycatdrawz @memersanonymous
@skz-stay13 @seungminsbest @hogwartslife64 @sinfulfic @hyunnesblog
@maisyyyyyy @cluelessred3 @leezanetheofficial @cocofia143 @lemonn015
@kkamismom12 @mei0packet @igetcarriedawaywithyou @hyuneyeon @iris-iiridescent
@mbioooo0000 @newbbystay @hanniemylovelyquokka @jc003 @kokinu09
@aalexyuuuhm @kenaicantcommunicate @fiestaplum-skz
#stray kids#skz#skz fluff#skz angst#skz poly#skz x reader#stray kids x reader#bang chan x reader#lee know x reader#changbin x reader#hyunjin x reader#han x reader#felix x reader#seungmin x reader#jeongin x reader#chan x reader#minho x reader#jisung x reader#chan fluff#lee know fluff#changbin fluff#hyunjin fluff#han fluff#felix fluff#seungmin fluff#jeongin fluff#bang chan fluff#minho fluff#jisung fluff#stray kids masterlist
179 notes
·
View notes
Text
Just friends
Summary: can y/n manage being just friends?
Word count: 7.k
đWarningđ:18+NSFW, oral sex, language, fluff, angst, violence, gore, sexual content,panic attack etc
(Like, comment, reblog for part fourđ)
This is part 3 of one night stand
Part 1
Part 2
âWe need to talk about yesterday.â You state firmly. Your tone was completely different from your usual lighthearted and funny personality. König and Ghost have quite literally seen you crack a joke in the middle of open gunfire. This was uncharted territory for them, whatever you were about to say had to be important. You take a deep breath, thinking of your next words carefully. The last thing you wanted was to hurt anyone againâŠespecially König.
âSpit it out rookie.â Ghost says annoyed.
âOh god how do I even say thisâŠI feel somethingâŠsomething I canât explain when Iâm with you.â You look at König, he shifts nervously under your gaze.
âAnd with you.â Your head turns to face Ghost, staring into those glimmering obsidian eyes. He breaks eye contact looking far off into the distance without a word.
âI donât know what it means but I know itâs something I canât ignore.â Your brow scrunches as you choke the words out.
âI want to get to know you both and Iâm here to ask for that opportunity. Iâm here to ask you to be my friends. No titles. No rankings. No romance. JustâŠfriends.â Your teeth nibble at your lower lip waiting for someone else to talk. It was nerve racking not being able to read their facial expressions. Their body language didnât give much away either, you shift on your heels.
âThatâs what you barged in here to ask for⊠friendship?â He slowly rises from his desk glaring in your direction.
âWellâŠyeahâ Your voice is low.
âDo you really think friendship can fix everything?â Königs voice is dark, he speaks the word friendship as if it was something rancid on his tongue.
âIâm not saying it can I justâŠâ you explain.
âI donât need to be a part of whatever you two have going on. Leave. both of you.â Ghost barks.
âYou seemed to be a part of it yesterday when you had your hands all over her.â König rasps, turning his killer gaze onto him. Ghost strides from behind the desk, his heavy footsteps fill the air as he takes slow deliberate steps forward. The tension is so thick you can cut it with a knife. A chill runs down your spine as youâre standing flush in between these skyscrapers. He stands tall looking König straight in the eyes, not even acknowledging your presence between them.
âI donât like your tone colonel. I think youâd better change that.â His head tilts mockingly, sizing him up.
âI was just thinking the same thing about you sergeant.â He beams into him like white hot lasers.
âHah, youâve always been balsy König, could always count on you to get the job done. But I want you to remember somethingâŠyou can beat them out there on that battlefield but here this is my territory and you wonât win.â He steps closer making sure he heard every word.
âWhy don't we find out serg.â He says through clenched teeth. At this point youâre sure they have completely forgotten your existence . You plant your palms on ghosts chest pushing him back, he seemed to snap back to reality realizing you were still there.
âThis isnât the time or the placeâŠno war within our army. Those are your words sergeant! As a leader you have to practice and enforce that as law. König I know youâre angry and have every right to be but last night was training and thatâs all. I wonât keep repeating myself anymore, I get that itâs hard to trust but youâre going to have to try.â You scold.
â Why do you care so much? How can you stand here and act like you know what I want. You donât know anything. Iâve never given you the impression that-â Simon rambles.
âI know it sounds stupid, crazy even, but I know you want to get closer to me Ghost.â You say gently, König tenses at the soft tone of your voiceâŠhad you ever spoken to him that way? He couldnât recall a time you had, and that made him envious.
âYou need someone. Youâve spent so much of your time in isolation, itâs time to let people in.â Never had he heard you sound so sure of yourself.
How could you break down his walls so easily, there is something about you that made him feel at ease. When heâs with you it feels like heâs allowed to smile,Things feel easierâŠhappier. But he knew from experience things like this didnât come so easy. People always get hurt when love is involved.
âAnd KönigâŠIâm tired of fighting. Iâm tired of being angry and resentful towards each other. These past few weeks have brought us closer together and I donât want to ruin that with one misunderstanding.â His face burns tomato red under his mask, but he wouldnât show it. His shoulder stiffen as if heâd been sliced across the chest. How could such beautiful words hurt this bad , youâd summed up his feelings for you perfectly but he couldnât shake the thought of you being so involved with Ghost. Being your friend sounds like absolute torture but it was a ray of hope. Hope that one day maybe you would undoubtedly love him back. He felt like a lost puppy waiting to be owned by youâŠit was foolish but he couldnât stop himself. Your naivety muddled the fact that this would be war and you were the prize.
âIt has always been you. Iâve got so much blood on my hands it could run a river red and yet you were granted the title of sergeant. Youâve somehow made sure I was one step below you but thatâs gonna change. You said I couldnât winâŠwatch me.â He says sharply.
âSo this is your playing fieldâŠher?â Ghost looks you up and down with judgmental eyes. You grimace wondering why he looked so unimpressed.
âHah, fine Iâll bite. What are the rules of the game?â Ghost chuckles, you could hear the smirk in his voice.
âWe get individual days to spend with y/n and the other person cannot interfere.â
âAnd what about the days that arenât accounted for?â His head tilts curiously.
âFirst come first serve. Itâs up to y/n who she would want to spend that free time with even though I know itâll be me. No one likes being around you.â König taunts, it isnât clear if itâs the jealousy talking or the militant hunger for victory. Either way you didnât appreciate them auctioning off your time and affection like some silly little game.
âYouâre on. Itâs about time I remind you of your place, colonel.â He reaches out an open palm, König grasps it firmly, shaking on the terms.
Itâs like everything you said completely went over their heads but you knew it would take patience and time to build a stronger relationship with them. If thinking of it as a competition got them on board, then youâd just have to play along.
~
Your arms tremble as you push the weighted bar up with all your strength. Your shoulders burn with each rep begging for a break, to your bodyâs dismay, you were just warming up. You look up into caramel colored eyes, Maya smiles down at you as she helps support the weight of the bar. With a final push you line it up with the metal stand, it lands with a loud crack. You sit up, sweat pouring down your face. Maya removes the white towel from around her neck, she dabs away the stray droplets as they fall. She was always right there at your side helping you with even the tiniest of things.
âRemember to hydrate. The body can lose up to 10 liters of water a day when active.â She hands you her purple water bottle.
âYour knowledge never ceases to amaze me, you're gonna make a great doctor one day.â You tip the bottle up, taking several gulps before coming back up for air. Mayaâs eyes softened, she needed to hear that; with all the death and injuries on base that passion could be lost. She is a practicing apprentice Doctor on base as she studies remotely to get her doctorate in medical science. Balancing education with active military duty was no easy feat, personal attachment can get in the way. People she laughed with, pulled pranks on, sat and had meals withâŠhad died in her arms. Brutal excruciating deaths that she could do nothing about. No matter how hard she tried to save everyoneâŠtheir blood still stained her hands. She thought often about what she would do if you got hurtâŠcould she save you? Maya shakes the negative thoughts away reminding herself that you were one of the special forces best. You may be a handful but you were damn good at your job.
âThank you y/n, you donât know how much that means to me.â She stamps a kiss on your forehead.
âI walked in on Sergeant Ghost and Colonel König talking about some new intel on the target. There might be a raid soon, I know how anxious you are with new missions.â A look of discomfort flashes on her face leaving just as quickly. She puts on a fake smile not wanting to put any more stress on you. You were the one who would be out there on the front lines risking your life and she didnât want to worry you.
âIâm okay,really, you get used to it.â You werenât sure if she was trying to convince you or herself.
âIf you ever need to talkâŠI am here Maya. Iâm always here.â You bore into her with sincere eyes.
âand thatâs why youâre my best friend. Now come on, we gotta keep that heart rate up.â She takes your hand, helping you to your feet. The two of you walked over to the pull up bar, arm day was not funâŠat all. Your muscles were already achy and tired but you had to push in order to build endurance.
âCanât I just work on legs today, thatâs so much easier.â You whine, Maya laughs patting your lower back.
âAs much as I agree with that statement, no. You handle high caliber weaponry. if youâre not strong, All that push back could damage your muscles.â She raises her arms holding the stretches in ten second intervals. Because of her insane height there is no need to use a stepping ladder, she simply reaches up and gets to work. Her fingers graze the bar before pulling back suddenly.
âI forgot my chalk, it helps prevent blisters, Iâll be back. Go ahead and start your sets without me. I gotta run back to our room.â She jogs off leaving you standing alone in the gym. You always felt slightly self conscious being in the weight room without a partner. Like everyone was watching you. Judging you. In reality no one even glanced your way but that didnât stop the anxiety from striking. A small tremor shakes your hands as you reach up for the bar. Itâs way too tall to grab on your own, Maya was usually there to give you a lift. You scan the area for a spare stepping stool or chair but everything is occupied. Eyes. Eyes everywhere. There looked to be two of everything as your vision doubled.The room begins to spin and your knees feel weak, where was Maya? When would she be back? Maya? Maya? Maya?!
âY/n look at me. Are you okay? Should I take you to the infirmary?â Your vision begins to focus turning the two ghosts in front of you, into one. Your breathing is shaky, you nod unable to speak. His head tilts forward with concern, his bare hand cups
your elbow as he pulls you closer.
âYour eye movements are unsteady,breathing accelerated, pupils dilatedâŠyouâre having a panic attack. Talk to me y/n what is distressing you?â His voice is gentle, calming even.
âPeople. Just so many people. M-Maya left⊠Iâm alone. I-I donât like being alone.âyou choke. His heart breaks at your words, loneliness was no stranger to him. Thinking back, Ghost couldnât recall a time when you werenât surrounded by people. He figured itâs because of how likable and fun you were but now the dots began to connect. You made sure to never be alone because it scared youâŠjust like it scared him.
âIâll stay with you.â His voice was earnest, he surprised himself with his sudden reaction. Normally Ghost worked out alone as he did with most things. But he wanted to help you, seeing you so shaken up tugged at something deep inside him.
âThatâs itâŠslow deep breaths. OneâŠtwo⊠exhale three. Very good.â He coaches. He looked to be very familiar with this sort of thing, you wondered if heâd dealt with this before. Ghost didnât seem like the type to deal with anxiousness, he was always so cool headed.
âIâm good now.â You huff.
âAre you sure? We can go somewhere more private.â Your face heats up at his word choice, you remember the wet dream from just nights ago.
âN-no Iâm fine, I still have a few sets to do.â You slide your elbow from his grasp.
âThen letâs do it⊠I assume your next set is pull ups and judging by your size, you usually have Maya help you up?â He hypothesized walking behind you to examine the bar.
âYeah Maya always lifts me up-â your words are cut off by his strong hands sinking into your waist. His fingers press into the soft plush of your hips, the crotch of his cargos rubs against your ass. His eyes fall low as he stares down at you, his thumb absentmindedly drawing circles. You donât speak up, getting lost in the comfort of his touch. The rush of his heart vibrates through your back, the rise and fall of his chest quickens. You can hear the heaviness in his breath, the heat in his mask makes sweat bead at his brow. This isnât the first time your bodies have met this closely but somehow this feltâŠDifferent. You snap to the reality that there is a room full of people here witnessing this moment. That idea made you focus on the initial goalâŠpull ups.
âIâm ready.â You assure, jumping as he hoists your body up with ease. Your fingers begin to slip, ghost bounces you up, allowing you to readjust the grip.
Even with the extra help, your arms burn as you pull the entirety of your weight up and over the bar. Your chin taps the cool metal marking one successful rep, ghost pats your thigh.
âGood job, make sure youâre breathing with each pull.â He instructs, his arms squish the fluff of your upper thighs. You nod, extending the length of your arms preparing for the next pull. Ghost is painfully aware of how your ass is pressed against his upper chest. His face is inches from the smooth damp skin of your back, his eyes track the small trickle of sweat that runs down your spine. He says a silent prayer, begging not to get hard in front of his subordinates. Even the slightest touch of your body drove him fucking mad, heâd been attracted to women before but never like this. Those thoughts were always intrusive and fleeting, he didn't let his mind wander too deeply but youâŠhe imagined ripping those mauve pink leggings open and ramming every solid inch of his cock inside you. He hated how much control you had over him without even trying.
âI-I canât take anymoreâ you groan, feeling the intense burning sensation growing in your arms.
Oh come on, he thinks. You couldnât have chosen a better word choice, a shock shoots up his leg activating his dormant member. He nearly drops you as the mirror shows him a glimpse of his hard dick poking through his gray sweatpants. He couldnât let you see him like this, before you could blink your feet were on the ground and ghost was B lining it to the menâs locker room.
âHey wait where are you going?!â You call as he scurries away. He doesnât turn around or even answer as he disappears into the white locker room door. Well that was rude, you think. You were used to him treating you like some kind of germ but this seemed off and you couldnât put your finger on it.
~
There still hadnât been any sign of Maya since earlier in the weight room, a sinking feeling pulls at your stomach. It wasnât like her to just up and disappear without saying a word . The military base wasnât the biggest in the world so there weren't many places she could have gone. Your eyes scan the mess hall landing on the table you two usually shared. Empty. No sign of her at all, you begin to worry what would keep her from eating lunch. Lunch is Mayaâs favorite time of day apart from breakfast and dinner, this was strange. You look at the lunch line and physically cringe when you see that ominous brown paper bag with your name on it. It wouldnât bother you one bit if you never saw another peanut butter and jelly ever again. You snake through the crowd and head toward the exit deciding to go search for her, itâs what she would have done for you. Just as you burst out of the sea of soldiers there is a deep voice bellowing down the long tan hallway.
âY/nâ a voice rumbles in the distance. Loud heavy footsteps shake the ground as König jogs in your direction.
âI didnât see you in the mess hall, have you eaten already?â His words are rushed and nervous.
âNo I havenât, I was actually going to-â he chimes in disregarding the rest of your sentence.
âThatâs perfect! I wanted to invite you to have lunch with me.â His voice sounds energetic.
âWell I was just about to go look for MayaâŠâ you trail looking around trying to spot her.
âOh I saw her a few minutes ago when I was walking past the infirmary.â He says. The infirmary should have been the first place you looked, Maya did tons of overtime with Dr.Bradshaw. Extra hours counted as field work for her university grade, but overworking wasnât always a good sign for her. You take a mental note to ask her later not wanting to disturb her study time with the Doctor. There was a nagging urge to ask König exactly what she was up to when he saw her but you decided not to snoop. If there was an issue she would come to you about it, you were always there for her and she knew thatâŠor at least you hoped she did.
âOh okay then Iâll just talk to her later thanks.â You spin on your heels ready to jog back to the cafeteria. A leather gloved hand entraps your wrist, holding you still. Your head whips around staring up into his forest green eyes, they dart back and forth searching your face.
âIâm sorry, I-I uh did you have plans for lunch today? If so I completely understandâŠI know you might still be worried about Maya.â His voice is shaky.
âNo I donât have plans for lunch, ugh Iâm the one who should be sorry I almost blew you off just now. What kind of friend am I?â You joke. His chest tightens at the word friend, he drops your hand back to your side. It catches your attention but you breeze by it not wanting to cause any damage.
âIâd love to have lunch with you König.â You say enthusiastically trying to salvage the situation.
âPerfect. Letâs go, try to act normal.â He nods in the directions of the exit motioning you to follow his lead. You had a feeling this was going to be another mission impossible, König mixed with the words âact normalâ never turned out good. Since the recent feud with ghost he was more rebellious than ever. You cautiously walk behind him trailing him out of the double doors, the sun beats down on your skin. Your eyes squint from the sudden lighting change, your hand lifts to shade your forehead blocking out the brightness. Las Almas Mexico was a beautiful mountainous place with endless desert views. There were small cities with an economy based on agriculture and farming. Like every major metropolitan region there are city areas for entertainment and tourism. The base was quite a distance from those areas, the deserts granted seclusion. Most of the drug activity and gang violence originated in the city areas. Although there were plenty of small gangs they all worked under the one major crime organization in the cityâŠThe Las Almas Cartel. The whole reason for your special forces deployment was to monitor and take down this organization. They participated in egregious crimes against the residents of Las Almas and helped push the drug epidemic throughout multiple countries. You walk forward,your shoulder brushes his arm ever so slightly. His eyes shift away with embarrassment, he hadnât touched you since that night. People chirp helloâs as you slip through the ocean of workers, there were so many familiar happy faces in the crowd. You are grateful König is by your side or all the attention could have become overwhelming very quickly. It warmed your heart to be loved by so many but it became exhausting, always chasing approval from others.
König senses a shift in your mood, boldly, he rests his big hand on your lower back; ushering you along. He leads you to the vehicle repair and storage shed. There are lanes wall to wall filled with earth toned military vehicles ranging from Humveeâs to M113âs.
âOh hey y/n! What are you doing all the way out here darlinâ?â His southern twang is thick. The dimples in his cheeks deepen as he smiles toothy and big. His giant veiny hands stain the white cloth as he wipes away black sludge.
âHey Jack, I hope we didnât interrupt your work.â
âYou could never bother me y/n seeing you is always a treat. Speaking of treats, whereâs ol doll face Maya I havenât gotten my daily fix of her.â He laughs. Jack was a flirt that was no secret but everyone knew about his unrequited love for Maya. Most people found her attractive but Jackâs feelings were public, making sure to scare off anyone who thought about making a move. They were just like an old married couple, arguing about any and everything.
âSheâs working in the infirmary.â You explain.
âIâm gonna have to go and pay her a visit, she canât run forever.â Wrinkles form at the corner of his eyes as he smiles ear to ear.
You canât help but cheese at his friendly face. König didnât appreciate Jack's lingering gaze. His eyes slit with annoyance, why were you smiling at him like that? He thinks burning with jealousy.
âIâm taking a Jeep on patrol.â He stated plainly.
âSure thing, Iâll just need to see that authorization letter from the sergeant.â He says wiping the oil from his cheek.
âI am your Colonel. I grant myself authorization.â His arms fold over his chest as he stands tall and confident.
âBut the sergeant said-â Jack starts.
âUnless you want to be scrubbing toilets for a week I suggest you give me the keys. If not, Iâll just have to report you for interference with a mandatory patrol. Are we clear?â His voice is stern. You find yourself gawking at him. his power had you melting in his gloved palm. König didnât like abusing his power but there was no way heâd go beg ghost to allow him to take you out. If he wanted you to himself he would make that happen at any cost. It didnât matter who he had to step over as long as he got to be with you. Jack stares him down for a moment weighing out his options, he could either disobey Ghost and get punished or disobey König and get punished. Great choices he thinkâs sarcastically.
âLook, if youâre gonna take her out you gotta be back before sunset or else ghost is gonna be on my assâŠdeal?â He extends a hand to König.
âDeal.â He takes his hand firmly.
âHere I just did an oil change on her so sheâs the best Iâve got right now. Iâm still repairân the others.â He tosses him a set of Keys with a dog tag attached. König nods, throwing his black duffel bag in the back seat. You never understood the idea of jeeps being doorless but as you hop in it makes a little more sense. If youâre being shot at you could literally jump right in. You chuckle at the ridiculous thought of you diving into a moving jeep.
âWhatâs so funny?â He asks, clicking his seat belt and cranking the ignition.
âNothing, it's dumb.â You laugh tugging the seat belt over your chest. He chuckles backing out of the garage. His arm lays across the back of your headrest as he looks behind him making sure no one was there. Your thighs clench at his focused body language, how did he manage to turn you on with such mundane tasks. The car whips around, he straightens the wheel and puts the gear in drive.
An armed soldier from the gate walks up to the driver's side scoping out the inside of the car.
âColonel. Where are you headed?â He salutes.
âMe and y/n will be holding a patrol unit on the mountain. Thereâs been reports of suspicious activity by the locals.â He lies smoothly. The mask came in handy since without it every emotion he felt would be on display. König is, unbenounced to everyone else,a terrible liar. His face gives him away every time. Despite what people think he could be read like a book if it wasnât for the mask.
âYes sir. Open the gate!â He calls.
Königâs shoulders relax as the metal gates swing open. Mission accomplished. He finally had you to himself for a day. After spotting your workout with the sergeant; he had to find a way to steal your attention back. Your head leans out the door watching in awe as the ground gets further away. The mountain road is bumpy and narrow, your hand grips the seatbelt tightly.
âScared of heights?â He asks, looking over at you with concern.
âOf course not, keep your eyes on the road.â You scold.
âYou know it doesnât help to look down.â He reaches over, tugging your chin away from the ground. His fingers linger for a second before returning to the wheel. Youâd seen this view from the chopper when you first arrived on base but this is a new perspective and it is gorgeous. The cacti bloomed with tiny magenta flowers, the dry soil cracked into interesting shapes. Small animals poke their heads from the grooves in the ground,and Even the sky is clear and vast. If maps didnât exist youâd have sworn the land stretched on forever. The heat is also comforting, the sun wraps you in a tight embrace kissing your skin. You wished you could see his face, you wondered if he was enamored with the scenery just as you are.
âItâs amazing isnât itâŠlike a whole new world.â He breathes looking around curiously. One hand gripped the wheel and the other pointed to a viper green snake in the distance.
âDid you see that?!â He exclaims excitedly.
âI did.â You say softly.
He coughs awkwardly, he didnât want to embarrass himself in front of you but animals are his weakness. He felt an obligation to protect creatures smaller than him, what better way to use his gigantic size. After what felt like an eternity he pulls into an open area at the top of the mountain overlooking the base. He puts the car in park and takes the key from the ignition. You unbuckle your seatbelt, turning your body to hop down; König jogs around the vehicle blocking your path.
âAllow me.â He pretends to open an invisible door.
You jump down and punch his arm playfully. You both laugh filling the open air with joy. He admires you bent over laughing from your gut, a real laugh, thatâs when you were most beautiful. He loved seeing happiness radiate from you, you wore it well. He wanted to make everyday a good day filled with bliss, he dreamed of one day being the one to make that a reality for you. He swings his duffel bag out with a huff walking over to a clear patch of land. With razor focus he unzips the bag unloading its contents onto the sandy ground. He lays a green blanket down before laying zip lock bags of mystery foods on to the cloth. To finish off the set up he sets up two colas on either side of the picnic blanket. It was one of the cutest things youâve ever seen, he plops down in the blanket waving you over. You canât help but smile at the exquisite dining arrangement designed by the renowned König.
âBeautiful set up chef.â You joke.
âOn todayâs menu we have the chefsâ choiceâŠHam and cheese sandwich. My secret ingredient is melted cheese courtesy of todayâs weather. Strawberries, hand picked by me from the local farmers market. And two delicious warm cokes.â Your nose scrunches in disgust, earning a hearty laugh from the colonel. His laugh was like liquid gold, it rumbled deep, shaking your core. Itâs a shame others didnât get to witness this playful side of him.
âSounds⊠yummy.â You say snagging a ham sandwich. You unzip the bag and have an experimental bite. To your surprise itâs not too bad, somehow the sun melted cheese worked. Not something youâd have regularly for a snack but the fact that König cooked it, made it taste better. You canât imagine him moving around the kitchen, did he keep the mask on or take it off? You giggle at the image of him with an apron and mask on.
âYouâre always giggling and Iâm never a part of the joke.â He pouts.
âI was just imagining you cooking in a cute little apron. Would you keep the mask on or take it off.â You tease.
âWouldnât you like to know.â He slips his sandwich under the hem of his mask, taking a bite. At this angle the sunlight glows behind you like a halo. König admires how angelic you are, he didnât understand how someone could look so perfect. There wasnât a word in any language that could describe your beauty, inside and out you were radiant. A rose blush sweeps his face, he looks away realizing how long heâs been staring. Butterflies flutter in your stomach.You turn away relocating your attention to the incredible view. At this height the wind whips strongly , blowing a cool breeze through the air. You close your eyes tilting your face to the sky, his eyes trail down your neck peering at the steady thump of your vein. He remembers the way you look with your pulse beating out of control;lustful eye low eyes staring back at him. That night you took a piece of him with you, he has never been so needy for a woman in his life. In a metaphorical sense you were a succubus and he would gladly give up his soul.
âGod youâre gorgeous.â He breathes. Your eyes widen as you stammer for words nervously.
âW-what, you canât just say that out of nowhere.â You stutter.
âShould I give you a warning next time?â He flirts.
âYouâre always messing with me.â You slap his hand. He smirks loving how you crumble for him. He reaches over to grab the bag of fresh strawberries, his palm brushes the base of your thigh. He slides a berry under his mask, making a sound of approval.
âMmm. These are really good. Try it.â He plucks a strawberry from the bag, holding it up to your lips.
Youâre hesitant for a while looking at the berry in disbelief, he couldnât be serious. This is definitely not something friends do but you do have a habit of overthinking things. Maybe this is one of those things, itâs just a strawberry, nothing less, and nothing more. You nod coyly, leaning in and wrapping your plump lips around the fruit as your teeth sink in; taking a small bite. His jaw tenses as he fights back the urge to lick the sticky juices from your mouth. With his free hand he lifts his mask, exposing the lower portion of his face. There is an intensity behind his eyes as he slides the rest of your half eaten berry past his blushed lips.
âYouâre right, these areâŠreallyâŠgood.â You trail as he closes the distance between you.
âHere, have some more then.â He bites another one. His giant hand rests at the back of your neck pulling you closer inch by inch. All thoughts evacuate your mind as his soft breath brushes your lips. Heâs so close you can almost taste him. So achingly close that it makes your heart leap right out of your chest. Why was he doing this to you, making you yearn to feel him again. Reminding you of the mind bending orgasms he gave you that night. It wasnât fair, how could you be friends when he is so irresistible? You canât. You shouldnât. You wonât. He brushes his soft warm lips over yours begging for permission, pleading for just one kiss. You did. Youâre caught in his net as your lips meld desperately in a symphony of passion. His tongue spreads the strawberry nectar across your taste buds making the kiss intoxicatingly sweet. He shifts onto his knees towering over you, never breaking the kiss. He leans down deepening it, gripping the curve of your hips; a camo clad knee forces through the barrier of your thighs. Itâs feverish and greedy, he kisses you like heâll never get the chance to again. Your back arches into his touch, a loud moan echoes through the mountain as he teases your pulsing clit. The friction was unbearable, it felt good but it wasnât enough. You wanted, no, needed more. Your pussy quivers as he breaks the kiss to nip at the sensitive skin of your neck.
âW-we canât. Friends donât uhn-friends canât do this.âYou pant.
âI want to please you. I didnât get to show you all of my tricks last time.â He whispers seductively. He pushes you back onto your elbows, clearing the picnic blanket in one swoop of his hand. You stare down at him, your breathing is erratic wondering what his next move will be. Strong calloused fingers work the complicated buckle of your work pants. Soon your pants are not only unbuckled but being slid down the length of your legs. Your chunky black combat boots prevented them from going any further so naturally he removed those too; leaving you completely exposed from the waist down. You couldnât believe you were letting this happen and in a desert nonetheless. König wastes no time grasping your hips and lifting your pelvis, leveling your pussy with his eager mouth. Your shoulders and head rest on the blanket while your lower half is suspended upward; legs dangling on his hunched shoulders. Even with him leaning over, your ass is still elevated at a staggering height. Youâre completely at his mercy, no matter how much you squirm his grip is iron tight. The black fabric of his mask sits on the plush of your mound hiding his face as he kisses your warm lower lips. You couldnât see anything from this angle and the mask added even more security to his next action. You watch the clouds move up above as he traces the glazed slit of your entrance, your hips buck in response. A quiet whimper vibrates your skin as he tastes you for the first time, the scent of your arousal fills the limited space in his mask. Every breath he took was filled with you, that one lick already had his dick frustratingly hard and throbbing.
âDu schmeckst so verdammt fantastisch (you taste so fucking amazing)â he mumbles into your heat. Itâs impossible to hold back any more, his tongue slithers up and down the slippery split of your cunt. The tip of his tongue draws circles around your stiff clit, he nips and sucks at the bundle of nerves making your legs shake. His hands sink into your thighs as he pushes deeper into your delectable pussy. The thick flat of his tongue laps at your labia teasing the wet folds of your outer sex. Your muscles contract as he explores every crevice of your dewy flower, your juices dribble down his chin as he teases the perimeter of your tight hole. You grind up into his face wanting him to go further tasting the deepest parts of your sweetness. His hands release your thighs leaving the heavy lifting to your core strength. Your body shakes as you fight to stay in this position not wanting the pleasure to end.
âThatâs it, you're doing so good Schatz(love) youâre going to have to put in some work to cum.â He breathes. His hands tug at your shirt fighting to push it up past your breast. You decide to help him out, lifting your shirt and black bra in one motion; your nipples are stiff with arousal. He rolls your hard peaks between his fingers, teasing and caressing the sensitive buds. Your mouth falls slack as his tongue eases into you, your walls clench as he strokes your inner velvet. A sloshing wet sound fills the air as he fucks your cunt with his long skillful tongue. Your hands fist the blanket as you become overwhelmed by all the sensations. How could something wrong feel so good.
âNo no no you canât cum yet, I am still enjoying my meal.â He reprimands. You bite your lip and stare up at him with pleading teary eyes.
âP-please let me cum, sâto much c-canât hold it please.â You cry.
âLook at me Prinzessin. Focus on me. Just like that, Iâm so proud of you. Donât give up beautiful. You're taking it so well.â He praises, locking eyes with you. He feels your pussy flutter on his tongue as you fight the urge to drench his face. He sucks your clit into his mouth gently, with a final pull sending you tumbling over the edge.
âIâm g-gonna cum, need to cum fuck-â
Your spent cunt spurts delicious cream all over Königs face, drenching his mask.
âLook at the mess you made. Naughty girl.â He eases your body back to the ground, licking his lips. You lie there twitching, unable to form a coherent sentence.
~
âSuns going down. Weâd better start heading back to base.â He says in a disappointed tone. He wished this day could last forever but that wasnât realistic. The last thing he wanted to deal with was ghost pulling rank on him again. You nod helping him pack his duffel bag, he smiles as your hands brush when reaching for the same items.
âI had so much fun with you today.â You chat loading the leftover snacks into the bag.
âMe too. We should come back here soon, Iâll pack better lunches next time.â He promises, throwing the bag over his shoulder.
âEverything was perfect. I wouldnât change a thing.â You assure, swallowing back the feelings of regret. What did this mean moving forward, did you make the mistake of leading him on again? König catches a glimpse of doubt on your face and speaks up.
âTodayâŠnever happened. We hung out, as friends.â He pats your head. You smile up at him appreciating his kindness and understanding, he knew you never meant to hurt him. Today was all on him, he took that step knowing what it meant and heâd do it again. He knows you need time to figure things out and he was done being impatient. He is sure about his feelings for you and is willing to wait as long as it takes.
âLetâs go.â He taps your butt as he walks by. You gasp smacking his back in return,trailing behind him to the jeep. He tosses the duffle bag in the back seat, walking around to help you into the car.
You stop in your tracks peering up into his beautiful lush green eyes, his heart thumps rapidly.
âDid you forget something?â He asks.
âNo. Youâre justâŠincredible you know that.â
âY/n I-Get down!â He leaps forward shielding your body as you two tumble to the ground in a panic.
âAh! Scheisse! Iâve been hit.â He groans, squeezing the oozing gunshot wound. A ringing sounds in your ears from the blast, everything moves in slow motion as you help him limp to the Jeep.
âA fucking sniper. We have to move! Now! Driveâ he instructs baring down his teeth, holding back a scream. His leg is on fire, blood spurts between his fingers as he applies pressure. The gas pedal is touching the floor as you push the vehicle as fast as itâll go. Your fist beats down on the horn trying to alert the front gate youâre coming in hot. one hand swerves the wheel frantically twisting and turning and the other is on Königs head holding him close as you quick fire words of affirmation.
âItâs gonna be okay, please stay with me. Hang on alittle longer. König? König?! Fuck!â You sob whipping the wheel back and forth making it harder for the snipe to aim. His consciousness begins to fade from the excessive blood loss; the once cream flooring of the Jeep is now a cherry red. His hand goes limp as he faints no longer applying pressure to the wound. Heâs fading fast.
âNo no no wake up. I know youâre sleepy but stay with me please please König weâre almost there.â Tears stream down your face as you beat down on the horn. The gate is a few feet away, the soldier on guard sees you approaching at 150 miles an hour. He sounds the alarm, triggering the gate to open up slowly. You canât let up on the speed itâs too late, you have to push it. Any further delay could cost him his life, you slam your foot to the floor giving it all youâve got. A loud crack slices through the air as you burst through the half opened gate, taking the side view mirrors off in the process. Both feet hit the brakes forcing you to a violent stop. You jump out, yelling for back up.
âPlease help me, he's hit! The colonel has been shot! Please he isnât responding help me!â You scream, wrapping your hands around his calf trying to stop the bleeding.
âY/n! What happened?!â Maya runs up taking off her shirt to use as a makeshift tourniquet.
âThey shot him.â You hyperventilate.
âWho shot him?! Get him to the operating room now!â She barks at the nearby soldiers.
âI-I donât knowâŠâ you sob watching the men carry him away.
To be continued?âŠ
#smut#smut x reader#fluff#smut fanfiction#fanfic#ghost cod#könig mw2#simon riley smut#simon ghost riley#mw2 ghost#konig smut#könig x y/n#könig smut#könig x you#ghost smut#ghost x reader#könig#könig fluff#ghost fluff#cod smut#mw2 fanfic#mw2 x reader#mw2 smut#könig cod#könig x reader#ghost call of duty#ghost x y/n#könig call of duty#mw2 oc#simon ghost x reader
2K notes
·
View notes