#'putting omega in his place' sometimes. which to a well adjusted person is a red flag | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

teamxdark · 4 years ago

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Mirror, Mirror

Based off of this little interaction between @damnitd and @silvermun a long time ago. It’s basically unedited, but the story I’ll end up putting on AO3/FFnet another day won’t be much different from this one here.

What can one do, when the heart is split in two? Where does one end, and the other begin? Where is the line drawn?

Or should it be drawn at all…?

Sonic stared at the twisted heap of metal on the kitchen counter, bisected by a sword, and tried his hardest not to scream.

“Lancelot,” he said, struggling to keep his voice even, “that was a toaster.”

The knight in question wrenched his sword from the mess, causing sparks to fly and little bits and bobs, both mechanical and breadlike, to scatter across the counter and fall to the floor. “It was burning up,” he explained gravely, “achieving heats far too intense for today’s weather. I could not trust it, and when it let out a scream, I had to act.”

“That ‘scream’ was an alarm,” Sonic snapped, too tired and hungry to deal with this nonsense. “That means that the toast is done and we can eat. Which we can’t now. Because you attacked the toaster.”

The dark hedgehog turned his sword over in his hands, and Sonic braced himself for his rebuttal, and then they would argue over who was in the right, but the knight uttered a soft, “I simply wished to protect you. I am still getting used to the complex machines of this era, and I cannot bring myself to trust them. I realize that this is… unbecoming of me, and an irritation to you. I apologize, and I will try my best to keep my impulses under control.”

Sonic let out his breath in a loud exhale. It was so easy to forget, still, that this wasn’t Shadow in front of him.

No one could quite explain how the switch had come to pass; one day, Shadow and he had parted ways, the sensation that there were still words left unspoken between them that would be better saved for another time, and the next day, Lancelot had been found in his place.

The knight was having trouble adjusting, to put it lightly. It had been weeks, but the advanced technology of contemporary times drove him to paranoia, and Sonic had seen many a monitor, vehicle, and appliance fall victim to Arondight’s wrath, much to Tails’ chagrin.

Worse, still, was that Lancelot refused to stay anywhere aside from Sonic’s home. The knight graciously declined Shadow’s place, leaving Rouge and Omega down one roommate, staying instead in any spare room he could find, so long as it was where Sonic was staying as well. Rouge had laughed it off, waving the knight away with a taunt that he was ‘Sonic’s problem now’, but the hero had seen the flash of hurt and worry in her eyes.

No one knew where Shadow was, or if he was ever coming back.

And now incidents such as these, with another appliance in pieces, were commonplace.

Sonic rubbed at his forehead, trying to put his buzzing thoughts together in his head before he spoke. “Lance, I get that you’re trying to protect me from my evil cookware and all that, but I don’t get why.”

The knight started, one ear tilting to the side in confusion. “Why would I not? I swore to do so, did I not?”

“No,” Sonic deadpanned. “You didn’t.”

That seemed to offend Lancelot, who let go of his sword for a moment to cross his arms. “I do not wish to speak out of line,” he said, sounding like he was struggling to remain calm, “but you are mistaken. A knight is loyal to the sovereign who knights him, until the last of his days.”

“But I didn’t knight you!” Sonic protested, at the end of his rope. “I’m not your king!”

In response, Lancelot pushed up his visor, and Sonic took in the set jaw, the way his pointed white teeth bared themselves in a snarl, by all means, the spitting image of Shadow, with just the smallest thing here and there that harshly reminded Sonic that the one standing before him was not the one he had spent so many years with. He saw it in the same set jaw, as it trembled with the effort to keep everything held back. He saw it in the snarl, which was more dismayed than hostile. Most of all, he saw it in Lancelot’s eyes, red and wide and so very expressive without the visor to shield them away.

Sonic was so used to seeing those eyes guarded, cut off from him, with only the smallest of opportunities to peek inside before they closed him out again.

Lancelot reached out, holding one of Sonic’s hands in both of his, delicately, like he was something infinitely valuable and the knight was afraid of sullying him with his hands. Sonic had only blinked when Lancelot dropped to his knees, his head bowed forward, and he heard him clear his throat before he spoke.

“You are him. You may not believe me, but I know it to be true. You are Arthur, my king, in this life and all others.”

Sonic sighed, unwilling to let this go but also not wanting to keep on this path of conversation, especially on an empty stomach. He tried to wrench away his hand, but Lancelot held tight, lifting his head, eyes ablaze with passionate certainty that made Sonic freeze in place.

He had never been looked at like that before…

"Every piece of you is the same,” Lancelot declared, his eyes unwavering, drawing in the hero and refusing to release him. “It is not only in image, either. I see it, I hear it, I feel it... It's more than just the body, the vision I see before me. You have his soul, free and unbound and hungry for adventure. You have his heart, strong and kind and noble. I see it in your eyes, you are him, you are who he would be if he were not burdened by his destiny! Don't you understand, Sonic? The only difference between you and Arthur are the memories you keep! You are him! You are him, and that's why I will follow you and protect you with my life. I gave you my vow, and I will not break it. No matter the time, no matter the life... I will stand by you until any and every version of us ceases to exist. That is my promise to you, as your knight!"

He said it so resolutely, so earnestly, that Sonic couldn’t find the words, nor the will to argue against him. In all his life, in all his wildest fantasies, Sonic could never have imagined those words, coming from that mouth, spoken in that voice… It was enough to get his heart pounding, that was for sure.

Sonic closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, but Lancelot’s hands clasped around his kept him anchored in this strange reality he was in. He didn’t like it; it had taken so long to get to where he had gotten with Shadow, so much time and effort and tenacity to get every last crumb from him, but Sonic had been adamant. He had wanted to break Shadow’s walls, to reach through, to understand him and be someone trusted and cared for. He had tried so hard, made so much progress… and now Shadow was gone, and in his place, Lancelot knelt before him, eagerly baring his soul for him without so much as a command.

Sonic would have been a liar if he said he didn’t like what he saw in Lancelot, either, but after all he had done for Shadow… it felt… wrong? Bad? In poor taste? Off, to be feeling similar flutters in the chest for a man who shared his face but not his past, nor his experiences.

Yet, as he opened his eyes and saw Lancelot still staring resolutely at him, as though desperate for him to understand, Sonic had to wonder if the knight had a point; Shadow had had amnesia twice, now. His memories had reset, but he had still been Shadow at his core. Sonic had never doubted that.

Did memories truly make a person who they were? And if so… were Lancelot and Shadow truly two different people?

Are you him? Sonic wanted to ask as he was burned alive by those eyes, crimson and intense, focused on him and him alone. Are you who he could have been if things had been different?

He wasn’t sure, but at least he could kind of understand where Lancelot was coming from.

Sonic heaved out an exhale, using both hands to pull Lancelot to his feet. “Okay,” he conceded. “Okay… but no more protecting me from my house or my friends. I’ll let you know when we’re in danger, okay?”

And Lancelot beamed, overjoyed, his teeth poking out through his lips and his eyes crinkling with happiness, and Sonic would be an even bigger liar if he denied that it was one of the most gorgeous sights he had ever seen.

Lancelot… I think I want to know you, too.

...

The sound of his pen scratching along the page was the only sound in the room. King Arthur sat back in his chair, stretching out his fingers, his eyes seeking out the room’s only other occupant, who was standing by with his back against the wall, looking displeased.

Shadow was silent, as always.

Arthur let out a breath, drumming a couple of fingers against his desk. “I cannot solve anything if you do not speak,” he finally remarked, much to the displeasure of the other.

“I don’t want to be out there with the others. This is the only room where no one barges in. That’s all.”

“Hm. Quite.”

It was mostly true, he supposed. Sometimes an advisor would poke their head in, but usually those weren’t the people Shadow was hiding from.

Arthur had started hearing the rumors a while ago; Sir Lancelot, his greatest and closest knight, and his longtime friend, was deeply in love with him. The rumors had followed him every day, and plagued him by night, as he wondered if they could be real, and wondered what he would do if they were real.

He had started to see and feel it, too. Lancelot’s habit of looking his way, his gaze, hidden behind his visor, lingering just a moment too long before he looked away again. The way his knight’s hand would remain on his person, his touch still warming him even after he drew his hand away. These moments had grown in number in the latest months, though their time together had remained fleeting, as the life of a king and the life of a knight were wrought with busy schedules and hardly enough time for a ‘hello’ to be exchanged.

For a while, Arthur had felt that something unsaid but reciprocated was between them, but Lancelot was gone, now, and Shadow had taken his place, and now the knights and the maids and the servants all looked at Shadow in the same way they had done to Lancelot, and the whispers and giggles followed the dark hedgehog until he ran into Arthur’s study and shut them all out behind him.

He made for some rather unsettling company, this sullen, tense man who shared his face with that of his closest friend.

Arthur missed him. Arthur missed him so much it hurt, and every day that passed he wished for the man who had stood by him from the very beginning to still be there, by his side, in a world that demanded the most he would be able to give as the bare minimum, but that didn’t mean he was allowed to take it out on Shadow. Nor was he about to dismiss the fact that Shadow was in a strange new world, and likely every bit as confused, disturbed, and frightened as he was.

“Would you like me to speak with them?” Arthur offered, figuring it was worth a try.

Yet Shadow huffed in response, the proposal seeming to offend him, and Arthur wondered why. “Don’t bother, I can handle my own problems.”

That was the other thing about Shadow: he had never, at any point, treated Arthur like he was royalty.

“It’s considered bad form to refuse the offer of a king,” Arthur pointed out, partly as a piece of advice; though he didn’t mind it himself, he knew Sir Gawain would throw a fit upon hearing that Shadow had shown such dismissal.

And the other part of him wanted to push Shadow just a little more. To get more of that strangely satisfying feeling of being treated like a man instead of a crown.

“I don’t care,” came the instant reply, and Arthur had to fight back a smile. “There are no kings where I come from, so your title means nothing to me, and even if it did, I won’t bow to you, or to anyone.”

The ‘not again’ went unsaid, but Arthur could hear it in Shadow’s voice, could read it in his body language. Arthur was always rather adept at deciphering Lancelot’s small cues and gestures, though Lancelot kept many of them hidden behind a wall of steel, but with Shadow, who bared his face and his body for the world to see, nothing could be hidden from Arthur’s discerning gaze. It was fascinating, truly, to be able to read someone new so well and so easily. Shadow was a puzzle with clear edges, but with many, many pieces that Arthur still had to search for.

All in all… a refreshing individual, despite the circumstances.

“Okay,” Arthur relented, and the sight of Shadow’s eyes narrowing in confusion only served to make fighting back his smile impossible. “In that case, I shall leave it to you.”

With that, he picked back up his pen, continuing to draft the latest ordinance on adjusting the limits of imported goods past Avalonian borders. The work was tedious, boring, dull, and even though he had just taken a break, Arthur felt his hand start to cramp with just a few words jotted down. The king sighed, rolling his wrist a few times, before getting back to work.

Just grin and bear it, he thought to himself as an involuntary noise of discomfort escaped him as his hand twinged again. You’ve done it before and you will always be able to do it. A king cannot show weakness. A king may not make excuses for poor judgement. Everyone is counting on me to do the best I can.

The thoughts only served to worsen the sense of anxiety that always seemed to cloud his mind, and Arthur grimaced, dropping his pen, holding his head in his hands and wishing for comfort for a man who was no longer with him.

His ears perked up as he heard a noise, something akin to a footstep taken in his direction, and when the king lifted his head, he noticed that Shadow no longer had his back flush against the wall. The dark hedgehog was doing his best to mask his emotions, but Arthur could still peel back every layer he put up, seeing the concern and the discomfort in the smallest things, from the slight narrowing of his eyes to the light raising of his spines. Shadow’s body language was silently screaming in empathy, something Arthur wasn’t used to receiving from others, and it intrigued him more than it should have.

“I’ll be fine,” he assured Shadow, not waiting to be prompted; he doubted the other would have asked, anyhow. “It’s simply sobering, sometimes, to remember that I have a kingdom’s worth of expectations to meet.” The king looked back down at the piles of papers on his desk; it was the same work, day in and day out, with decisions ranging from laughably easy to crushingly difficult. Yet, he had to make them all. Without thinking, he murmured aloud, “A single mistake could cost me everything I’ve done up to this moment. All the good I’ve done, all the efforts I’ve made, all the reputation that I’ve struggled to build up… it could all go up in smoke in a second, and I would be back at the beginning, needing to prove myself over and over again to people who expect everything from me.”

It was a moment of weakness, of cowardice, wherein Arthur was so tired from years of work and the loss of his most precious ally, for whom he still had almost no time to mourn. His eyes flicked back up to Shadow, and he prepared to apologize and ask that he forget all that he had just divulged 一 it was hardly fair on his guest, after all 一 but then he saw Shadow’s face, stunned and amazed, his red eyes wide and fixed on him, welling with a look that Arthur almost never saw on another person; understanding.

Shadow was looking at him with such mind-blowingly clear understanding and empathy that Arthur’s breath was taken away.

For a few more charged, heart-pounding moments, all they could do was stare, the sensation of something new connecting them becoming stronger and stronger with every passing second.

Then Shadow tore his gaze away and flung open the door, stepping outside and closing it behind him, leaving Arthur alone in his study.

As the king sat back in his chair, he stared into space as he tried to make sense of what had just happened, and what that might have meant for Shadow.

He was certain that, even though his dear friend’s face was too often hidden from view, that Lancelot had never once looked at him like that.

Shadow… what is your story, I wonder?

…

Just when Lancelot thought he couldn’t hate the odd technology of Sonic’s world any more, it came to a sudden and violent peak as the blue hero was called into action as a swarm of machines called ‘robots’ began invading Station Square. To make matters worse, they were created by some sort of mad doctor, and upon seeing an image of the man in question, Lancelot had to restrain himself from running the monitor through with his sword.

This mad doctor held a horrible resemblance to a certain ‘emperor’ that had caused Arthur far too much trouble, back at home in Avalon, and it made Lancelot desire nothing less than for this man’s complete and utter demise at his hands.

According to Sonic, these attacks weren’t anything new to him and his team, and though he knew it was a distraction or a trap, they didn’t have any options aside from stopping them quickly and efficiently, for the sake of everyone who lived in the city. He rallied his team effortlessly, leading the chase down to the battle, not bothering to bark orders because of the trust he carried in his followers…

Lancelot’s heart swam with affection. Sonic truly was Arthur, whether he believed it or not, and it showed in everything he did. He was a leader who cared not for the title, a man who cared for even the smallest life under his protection, and his bravery was unmatched, inspiring, and absolute. Someone of such immeasurable importance that needed to be protected at all costs.

So what else could Lancelot do but run to shield him when, during the battle, he saw a robot take aim at Sonic’s back?

His ears registered the sound of Sonic moving, then stumbling, but he only paid attention to the blast that came his way, soaking up the impact with his legendary strength, but he was not indestructible. Blood began dripping from a wound on his arm, and the scent of singed hair prickled in his nose in the most unpleasant way. Lancelot hissed in pain, his mind threatening to cloud with this new kind of pain, like fire but so much more unnatural, but he took pride in knowing that he had done his job. Sonic was safe. Sonic was safe and…

And he was dragging Lancelot to the side?

“What the hell was that, Lance?” Sonic demanded, panic and fury coloring his tone, and Lancelot’s feet almost froze in shock. Why was Sonic so frightened? Why did he sound so angry?

Had he done something wrong?

In a space several yards away from the battle zone, Sonic sat Lancelot down, and swore under his breath when he saw his battle wound. “Damn it Lance, I knew that robot was there! Why didn’t you just let me dodge? Oh Chaos, you’re bleeding, why did you run in like that?!”

Lancelot only gaped at him, his mind struggling to make sense of his leader’s words as Sonic inspected his arm and fretted over how it wasn’t healing.

Was he supposed to heal quicker than the average being? Lancelot supposed that maybe, with the help of his mother or Merlina, that could be possible, but the young girl who appeared to be his mother’s counterpart appeared more of a fighter than a healer, and he had not yet seen a counterpart to the royal wizard.

Lancelot wanted to ask these questions, to get some answers, but the near furious look on Sonic’s face made him hold his tongue. Such a look on someone he admired and loved so strongly… it was enough to make him feel like the scum of the earth.

The knight sat out the rest of the battle, staying in place even as Sonic left to finish the job, and the humiliating feeling of utter shame managed to overpower even his need to ensure his leader’s safety. Every time he felt the urge to stand up regardless, to charge into the battle even while wounded, and fight by his leader’s side as his sword and shield, the image of Sonic’s distraught face would flash before his eyes again, and he would remember his words, sharper and more painful than any sword, demanding why he had interfered.

Why had he failed his job as a knight?

What good was he, if he couldn’t even fulfil his one objective?

Lancelot’s head remained bowed in shame, even as he heard rapid footsteps coming his way. It remained bowed, even as he felt steady hands clean his wound and wrap a bandage around it.

It was only when Sonic lifted his chin and forced his visor up did Lancelot finally manage to look him in the eye.

“Why did you step in front of me like that?” Sonic asked, his voice calm again, though it did nothing to soothe Lancelot’s inner turmoil. The knight wanted nothing more than to no longer speak, to be swallowed by the ground and forgotten, the pathetic knight who couldn’t do his job when it mattered.

But he couldn’t refuse his leader, and so he forced himself to talk.

“It was the promise I made to you,” he said, and he struggled to keep his dismay in check as Sonic immediately looked displeased at his answer. “I am… protective by nature, and even moreso as a knight. I swore to protect Arthur, and I must protect you, too, even if that comes with my own life as a cost. That is something I must do, for I--”

“Oh stop it!” Sonic interrupted, once again looking angry and upset, and Lancelot bit back his speech, both ashamed and relieved. Had he gone even further, he might have lost control of his emotions and revealed just how deeply his affections for the blue hedgehog lied.

And then, Sonic asked something very, very strange.

“Isn’t there more to being a knight than serving a king?”

Lancelot, who up to that point had felt so certain of his standing, of his mission, of who Sonic was and what he represented, felt his heart break in two as cold reality settled over him.

“No,” he whispered in response, having never felt further away from the other than he did in that moment.

Sonic was not his king. Sonic was Arthur, but he was not his king. Sonic had no want for a knight, no desire to act as a king.

But if that were the case, what was Lancelot to do?

“Lancelot.”

Sonic’s voice was firm, and Lancelot braced himself for some hard truths.

“I’m not a king, Lance. I’m a hero, I guess. That’s what people call me, anyways. But the point is, I’m a free hedgehog. I’m not here to give orders or have people die for me, I’m just around to have a good time, to go where the wind takes me, and if I have to save a few people from some robots in the meantime, I will. I just gotta do what I gotta do… and I can’t do that if all you can do is try to protect me.”

Even with his face raised, chin still supported by his leader-- no, by Sonic’s hand, Lancelot tried his best to look away. His eyes watered treacherously, threatening to spill over. Being a knight was Lancelot’s life, his identity, the air that he breathed, the reality he lived in. It was everything he knew, but… but now it was…

The hand disappeared from his face, and then Sonic was reaching for his own hand on his uninjured arm, and Lancelot was pulled to his feet. Sonic looked him full in the eyes, their pull hypnotic, and even as Lancelot tried to choke back his tears, he felt his breath catch in his lungs.

“Hey… I need you to trust me with my own life, okay?”

Lancelot blinked, and the smallest of tears managed to escape him. Sonic didn’t think he trusted him.

In a sense, Lancelot supposed that he didn’t.

Yet when he reopened his eyes, he saw the look the other hedgehog was sending him, a look he had seen in Arthur’s eyes many times, mixed with a sense of sad resignation. Lancelot had never been able to read it perfectly, a fact which had always frustrated him to no end, for all he wanted was to be Arthur’s closest, to be the one who knew him at a level that no one else could hope to achieve.

But in Sonic’s eyes, the message was plain and clear.

He wanted to be seen as an equal, not someone above him, unattainable, on a pedestal. No, it wasn’t just that… Sonic looked determined to pull them both onto equal ground, to the same level, and the thought made Lancelot’s head spin.

“Lance… I know it’s scary, but you can choose how you want to live your life now, and trust me, it’s a good thing.”

And Lancelot, who knew nothing aside from being a knight, felt the crushing weight of the world in front of him, dark and untamed, when before he had Arthur’s light to follow. Paths were branching in front of him, too many to count and too many to walk down individually and explore. His head spun with possibility, and fright gripped at him, tempting him to deny, to refuse, to hide his face, or perhaps, to die as a knight in a world that refused to house him as he was.

Then he felt Sonic’s hand, still holding his, warm and comforting and safe, and somehow, in the midst of his existential turmoil, Lancelot felt a warm glimmer of hope.

“Okay,” he murmured in response, and Sonic’s brilliant grin soothed and delighted him more than he could properly understand.

Sonic… I shall do my best. For you… and for me, as well.

…

It hit too close to home, in this place that was about as far from home as Shadow could get.

Every day, whether he looked for him or not, Shadow saw King Arthur struggle silently. He saw him work day in and day out, endlessly trying to prove that he was worthy of being king, of being in everyone’s good graces and that he wasn’t just entitled to be there, but that he was supposed to be in his position. Even while all around him there sat obstacles and red tape and tough decisions and divides and people who were just never satisfied and…

And…

Shadow closed his eyes, recalling every debriefing he had had in G.U.N.’s headquarters. He remembered feeling as though he was on a leash, that every mission, every move he made had to be executed perfectly, otherwise he would lose his right to exist as a free being.

No… Shadow had never been free. Not since the day he was created, with the power to hurt and to heal, and every day he had to face the consequences of actions he had committed years prior. Shadow remembered the feeling of the imaginary leash shortening, tightening around his throat, reminding him that no matter what he did, it would never be enough.

Shadow would never be considered a true person by the people who saw him as a weapon.

And Arthur… Arthur seemed to be considered in the same way by the people who saw him as a king.

Shadow’s heart ached, and the dark hedgehog grit his teeth as he recalled all the times he had caught the other wincing and massaging his hand while drafting laws and messages, how he plastered a smile on his face as he met people and made addresses when he clearly would rather be anywhere else, and how he kept his voice even as he ordered his knights around, even though he obviously didn’t want to be giving orders, he just wanted to be looked at as an equal, but he was so ingrained in this life that he felt resigned, and so he stopped trying to fight where the fight could not be won. Shadow knew all these feelings, all the sensations of being worked to the bone, of putting on an act to protect himself, of accepting that there were some things that, like it or not, would simply never change…

But Arthur, unlike him, was not the Ultimate Lifeform. This man was not made of infinite power and energy, was not capable of rapid healing or boosting himself in body and mind with his own energies whenever it suited him. Arthur was a remarkable but regular hedgehog, who had been working off of nothing but his own willpower and strength of mind, and that knowledge hurt perhaps the most of all.

Arthur and himself… they both pulled a painfully similar weight, a weight that, even on his worst days, Shadow had never wished upon another person.

So what else could Shadow do but grab Arthur’s hand and run him out of there, out of the castle, yelling vague excuses at anyone who tried to stop them?

Arthur followed easily behind him, not asking a single question as Shadow ran, ran away from suffocating walls and legal obligations and the knowledge that it was never, ever enough.

Shadow was used to Sonic keeping up with him. They had always been on equal grounds, and Shadow knew it, even at the beginning stages of their rivalry when they both had asserted that they were the stronger, the faster, the more incredible hedgehog. With time, that knowledge became easier to swallow, as their rivalry held a friendlier edge to it, and especially so when their friendship and partnership had become more undeniable, and when those dumb, weird feelings started springing forward and…

And…

But with Arthur and his frightfully similar situation, Shadow’s empathy had hit him like a truck, and seeing him in so much concealed pain every day had turned into something too much to bear, and so, just for this one, Shadow decided he would be the man’s savior, even for just one evening.

They stopped in a meadow, far beyond the castle and away from the treeline where the forests began, and Shadow avoided looking at the exhausted king, unsure how to express what was in his head, in his heart, in his soul.

How was he supposed to tell him that watching him take all this weight, all this responsibility, was too much for him?

How was he supposed to say that he had similar issues, with G.U.N. and the people of the United Federation breathing down his neck and observing his every move, and that perfection was the bare minimum?

How could he express that they both deserved to live their lives without earning the right to exist without constant scrutiny, where one slip up meant everything falling apart, absolute ruin, the end of the world…

Shadow took in a deep breath, his mind spinning with thoughts and feelings he wasn’t sure he could put into words, but when he finally looked over to Arthur, the breath left him and wouldn’t return.

Arthur didn’t look angry or annoyed or anxious, even though Shadow had ripped him from his work that he couldn’t afford to fall behind on. Arthur didn’t look upset at all.

He looked grateful.

He looked serene.

Arthur looked directly into Shadow’s eyes, his own green ones reflecting the stars up above, and Shadow wanted to tell him everything, even though his body refused to breathe and his tongue refused to move.

The hand in his hold shifted, and Shadow felt Arthur squeeze his hand softly, just once.

He understood.

Chaos above, Arthur understood, and Shadow didn’t even need to say it.

Shadow swallowed, feeling overwhelmed, and Arthur seemed to understand that, too. Wordlessly, the blue hedgehog moved closer, his hand never leaving Shadow’s, and he leaned his body against Shadow’s, answering an unspoken need for comfort without smothering him, without trapping him in place with a hug or an embrace.

Shadow closed his eyes, hating how the gesture reminded him of one time Sonic had done something similar, a small shoulder check that had lingered a moment too long, and at his side, he felt Arthur breathe in deeply and hold it in, as though he were resisting the urge to sigh.

Shadow knew he was probably thinking about Lancelot.

Their hands both squeezed at the same time, and they both knew.

It was a strange feeling, as though both of them had lost a large piece of their lives, only to gain another to take its place. It was something that felt like infidelity, even though nothing warranting such a thing had been established with the other person on their minds.

Yet this closeness… this was something that Shadow had wanted for a long time, but had never been able to truly obtain. Shadow didn’t always know how to use his words, how to explain what he wanted or what he needed or what he was going through, and now here he was, with Arthur, a man who understood him without words. A man who he understood, who brought out his empathy to an almost painful degree, and Shadow wanted in that moment for nothing more than for them both to be happy.

As he felt the warmth of Arthur’s body and the beautiful comfort of being understood, even in a world that wasn’t his own, Shadow figured he might be on the right track.

Arthur… I don’t know how to thank you.

…

When Sonic first kissed Lancelot, it was after another battle, in which neither escaped without injury. Sonic could see Lancelot try his hardest to hold back his instinctive reactions, struggling to trust him and not place the blame on his shoulders, and Sonic looked out the window, knowing that life was short and uncertain and that any day might be his last.

He also did it knowing that waiting for Shadow was not going to help either of them at all.

He felt Lancelot tense up in shock, then relax, lifting his hands up to his head and burying them in his spines. Lancelot was pilant, willing, eager to receive whatever Sonic wanted to give him, and Sonic responded with his best efforts to make the kiss special, the sort of kiss that Lancelot deserved, after so many years of putting himself second. Whenever Lancelot made a noise that suggested he enjoyed what Sonic was doing, Sonic resolved himself to keep going, to deliver the indulgence that Lancelot had always been denied of.

It was completely different to how he always imagined kissing Shadow would be like. He had always imagined a competition, with both of them trying to one-up each other like they always did, but Lancelot’s sweet eagerness as their lips met again and again pushed all thoughts of Shadow from Sonic’s mind, and as they finally parted for air, it was Sonic’s name that escaped from Lancelot’s mouth.

…

When Arthur first kissed Shadow, it felt like a long time coming. The king knew he would need to take the initiative, with Shadow struggling to come to terms with his own feelings, and he felt the striped hedgehog become rigid in shock when Arthur’s hands landed lightly on his arms and he pressed their lips together.

He also did it with the knowledge that he might never see Lancelot again, and if that were the case, that Shadow was someone he couldn’t bear to let slip through his fingers as well.

When Shadow recovered from the shock, he kissed back, roughly and intensely, and Arthur found himself being pushed to keep up. It was like a battle, fueled by unspoken, deeply internalized feelings, finally being let loose until their heads swam with a lack of air and an overflow of emotion and the immeasurable feeling of connection without words.

Kissing Shadow lit a fire in Arthur’s soul, even as he felt Shadow start to calm down, finding enjoyment at being able to be vulnerable without pain for once in his life. Arthur could feel the heat flush off of the other’s face in waves, and when they finally parted, gasping for air, he was so, so glad that there was no visor or helmet to create a barrier between him and those eyes, softer than he had ever seen them, that he could read like a book.

#Smash speaks.#Avalon Series.#Stories From Avalon.#Lansoni.#Arthadow.#I wrote 80% of this today after months of barely touching it.#Hope you all enjoy!#I'm going to bed.

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saxxxology · 5 years ago

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What Goes Bump in the Night - 4

PAIRING: Alpha!Sam x Omega!Reader WARNINGS: a/b/o dynamics, Victorian social dynamics, allusions to non-consent and dubious consent, dominance/submission, slow burn with eventual smut, suspense/horror/gore themes.

THIS WORK IS 18+ ONLY. DO NOT REPOST MY WORK ON ANY OTHER SITES.

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Sam takes you on a short tour of the house the following morning. The living room and dining room you’ve already seen, but he shows you the library, the writing room, and the kitchen. The basement door is large, wide enough to fit four Sam-sized men shoulder to shoulder. The same sigil Sam bears is carved at chest height, lined with red paint to make it all the more obvious that it’s a room not to be entered by any ordinary person. There’s a heavy chain and padlock on the door, evidently put there to keep any over-curious persons out.

Sam tells you that he’ll be back by late afternoon and leaves you standing in the living room, still dressed in your nightgown. You’re alone with the entire house and grounds to yourself.

You spend most of the day in the library, poring over the books that you can reach. Most of them are science-related, and it takes a while for you to find something illustrated that you can follow. The title reads On the Origin of Species by Means of Natural Selection, written by Charles Darwin.

By the time the sun dips below the horizon, you’re starting to grow tired. All you’ve eaten is a slice of bread and an apple, and you’re longing for some of the perfectly cooked meat you’d enjoyed the night before. Sleep is quick to take over, however, and before you know it, you’re fast asleep, Darwin’s book open on your stomach.

Sam, Dean, and John get home just before dinnertime. The first place Sam checks for you is the library. John and Dean stop dead in their tracks when they see you stretched out on the couch, fast asleep with one of the most complex books of the century open on your lap. Sam, on the other hand, feels his heart warm at the sight. It’s a strange feeling he’s not sure he’s comfortable with.

“Ahh, the bitch can read,” John mutters.

Sam bristles at the insult, but replies with a level tone. “I wasn’t aware she could. Much less Darwin, at any rate.” He steps towards the couch, closing the book before lifting your sleeping body into his arms. “I’ll take her upstairs,” he says, “keep her out of our way while we work.”

***

You wake up in Sam’s bed. He’s sitting beside you, dressed in his usual nightshirt, newspaper open on his lap. He feels you move and looks down, smiling.

“You’re awake,” he murmurs. “It’s later. I’ve brought you something to eat.”

You stretch and look over at the table. It’s not much, just a bowl of what looks like soup, some bread, and a cup of tea. The same as the night he’d brought you home. “What time is it?”

Sam glances at the nightstand clock. “Nearly ten. You’ve been asleep since I got back a few hours ago. Did you have a good day?”

You shrug and sit up. “Just read, mostly. I didn’t think I’d fall asleep.”

Sam chuckles and holds up the book as you climb out of bed. “I brought the book up, if you enjoyed reading it.”

You spoon soup into your mouth and chew slowly. “Thank you.”

His nostrils flare, and for a second, you see his eyes soften. “You’re welcome,” he replies. “How did you learn to read in the first place? Most Omegas don’t get an education.”

“Had to,” you reply quietly, “living on the streets was hard, but I didn’t have much to do. Sometimes I’d sneak copies of the newspaper and practice, and I knew enough from when my mother used to read to me.”

Sam notices your eyes grow foggy at the mention of your mother. “When did she die?”

“When I was five. She got sick with a fever and died two days later.” you swallow thickly and look down at your hands. “I haven’t thought about her in a long time.”

Sam sighs heavily. “My mother died too. I was six months old, I don’t remember her. I don’t even have a picture.” He issues a soft chuckle. “Guess I have more in common with you than I thought.”

You silently finish eating and retreat to the bathroom to clean your teeth. Sam follows, stepping into your place after you’ve washed your face and twisted your hair into a braid. He comes back to bed and climbs in beside you, reaching for the book.

“Where did you leave off?” he asks, “I can read to you, if you’d like.”

You’re slightly taken aback by the sudden kindness. It’s strange, you’re used to him being rough and callous, more of a bully than a caring mate. Nevertheless, you slip the covers over your shoulders and give a short nod. “Yes, please.”

He opens the book to where you’d left off and begins reading. His voice is soothing, and you close your eyes, listening for several minutes as he reads slowly and clearly.

Sam only gets five pages in before you’re asleep again. He marks the page, sets the book on the nightstand, and turns out the light before lying down. Slowly, so as not to wake you, he shifts closer, laying his head on your pillow. You instinctively snuggle close in your sleep, and he chuckles softly through his nose.

“Sleep well, Omega,” he whispers.

***

You adjust to life at the Winchester house rather quickly. Sam and his family work a lot, more often than not late into the night, but Sam always makes time for you before you go to sleep. You find that Sam reading to you is more comforting than anything, and it becomes a routing for you to wake alone, spend your day reading or walking in the gardens (which happen to be quite full of fragrant herbs and fruit trees), and be with Sam for a brief, tense time after the sun goes down.

On the fifth night of your stay, you’re woken by the sound of a gate creaking open. Sam’s not in bed, and his spot is cold. Voices echo from the courtyard, and you slip out of bed and go to the window, peering down into the back garden.

All three men are awake and fully dressed. Two other men stand with them, conversing urgently in low voices. There’s a horse-drawn cart in the middle of the lane, and something in the back is covered in a thick, black blanket. John steps forward, lifts a corner of the blanket, and peers inside. It’s too dark to see the expression on his face, but you know the situation is urgent.

He motions for the boys to lift what lies underneath the blanket onto a large stretcher. It takes both of them, plus the two other men, to lift it. They disappear under the terrace, and you hear the back door open, the sound of feet shuffling, and then the door closing.

Suddenly afraid, you slip back into bed. Sam’s told you that the family dwells in the darker areas of science, but what had lain underneath the cart was large, evidently bigger than Sam, who stands several inches above almost everybody else you’ve ever seen.

You draw the covers up as the voices rise, then fall. The back door closes, and minutes later, you hear the sound of the cart rolling down the gravel path, and the screech of the iron gates as they close.

Sam doesn’t come back to bed.

***

Two weeks after you come to stay at the Winchester house, the three men are set to go to a party. Sam tries to explain what it is, and you eventually gather that it's more of a dinner for fellow scientists than an actual party. He warns that he’ll be back late and not to wait up for him. The sun’s already down by the time the trio leaves, and there’s not much else to do than eat a quick dinner, take a bath, and go to sleep. You leave the oil lamp on; you always do if Sam’s not there with you.

You’re awoken in the early hours of the morning by the sound of the front door slamming shut. Footsteps hit heavy on the stairs, and moments later, the door swings open. Sam stumbles in, his shirt half untucked, one shoulder of his jacket ripped. His lower lip is split, too. He’s been fighting.

“‘Mega.” He’s drunk. You can smell the liquor on him.

“Sam.” You tense as he approaches the bed. “D-did you have a good time?”

He grumbles and crawls onto the mattress, watching you like a tiger stalking its prey. Without warning, he pulls the covers off your body, grabs your ankles, and drags you down underneath him. His hands slide up under your nightdress, brazenly grabbing handfuls of your ass as he ruts himself between your legs. He’s half-hard, you can feel the line of his half-hard dick pressing through his pants.

“Sam,” you try to struggle out from underneath him, “don’t, please...”

“Shut… up…” his voice is a slurred mess; he’s probably so far gone he doesn’t even know what he’s doing.

He lets out a groan and settles over you, one leg between your thighs. His hips push against your belly, grinding in unsteady, lust-driven movements. The sounds leaving his throat are more like an animal’s, and you close your eyes, letting him take control.

Fortunately, Sam’s inebriation takes over, and with a final shove of his hips against your body, he goes still, snores filling the room mere seconds later.

He’s passed out.

You slide out of the bed, trying to keep your sobs quiet. You need to get out, to get somewhere where Sam can never find you again. Racing down the staircase, you head straight towards the front door, not caring if you’re barefoot. You grab hold of the handle and yank.

Locked.

“Well, well, well…”

Dean’s deep purr of a voice echoes behind you. You whirl around to see him slowly sauntering towards you. He’s got a bruised cheekbone and a small cut on the bridge of his nose. He’s obviously been fighting as well.

“Dean,” you choke his name, “please, don’t—”

“Don’t… what?” He bites his lower lip, smirking as he draws closer. “Why’re you tryin’ to sneak out, pretty ‘mega?”

“I—” you choke as he cups your cheek with one hand, “I was j-just—”

“‘J-j-just.’” Dean mocks you, his mouth curving into a pout. You blink more tears out of your eyes, and he smirks wickedly, brushing your disheveled hair out of your face to expose the column of your neck. He wraps his hand around the back, his fingers curling into the hair at the base of your skull. “What,” he says again, “were you doin’? Hopefully not tryin’ to sneak out.”

“Sa-Sam, he…” you weep, suddenly aware of how badly you’re shaking, “he t-tried to… I don’t know...”

Dean clicks his tongue in mock sympathy. “Just a boy tryin’ to make his claim, ‘mega… it’s takin’ him a goddamn long time to make you his, it’s startin’ to make me wonder…”

You swallow, trying to keep yourself from emptying your stomach. “W-what?”

“If he’s not gonna do it,” Dean growls, “he’s leavin’ you up for me… or even our father.” He grips your hair, hard, and you can’t stop the loud whimper that leaves your lips. “My brother may have bought you, but as long as you don’t have that pretty little claim mark, you belong to all of us. Do you understand?”

You nod rapidly. You don’t know what’s scaring you more, the threat of rape from three Alphas or the lack of instinctual sympathy that Dean’s supposed to be having to your tears. “P-please… let me go, you’re hurting me.”

Dean smirks. “Just… one little thing, before I do.” He leans in and scents the the juncture of your neck and shoulder. He tips his head back, blowing air through his lips, and then releases you. “Go,” he orders, “don’t let me catch you tryin’ to sneak out again, pretty girl.”

You scamper back towards the stairs, tripping through the darkness as you head back to the room where Sam may or may not still be unconscious.

He’s still spread out on the bed, snoring. You slide back under the covers, muffling your sobs with a pillow. You thought Sam was done being mean. You’ve gotten so caught up in his careful treatment of you over the last few days that you’ve forgotten what he is at his core: an Alpha male who has yet to claim you as a mate. If he’d been less intoxicated, he might have succeeded in his primal drive.

You don’t know how long it takes for you to fall asleep. All you remember is taking one last shuddering breath before passing out, curled up against the headboard.

***

You wake the following morning to the sound of Sam groaning in apparent discomfort. Opening one eye, you see Sam stumbling around the room, trying to get his clothes off. His eyes are slightly red-rimmed, and his jaw is slack. He sees you stir and lets out a short grunt.

“Morning,” he grumbles, “did you sleep well?”

You nod, hoping he’s too hungover to notice your hesitance. “Yes.”

“Good.” He sits down on the end of the bed and rubs his face. “God, my head…”

You’re too skittish to offer any form of comfort. The memory of his hands on you, his heavy weight as he rutted his cock against you, is still too close for you to be okay touching him. “Did you get in a fight?”

He nods. “Yeah… happens every year, ‘s nothin’ new.”

You swallow, pulling your knees up to your chest. Your eyes are puffy and sting when you blink. “Do you remember coming back?”

Sam shakes his head. “No… I just remember Dean pullin’ me off some guy and then nothing.” He turns to look at you and notices the dark circles under your eyes. His brow furrows with concern. “Why? What happened?”

You shrug. “You just… when you came back, you, um… you got physical w-with me.”

His jaw sets. “How physical?”

“Um…” now that you actually have to talk about it, you don’t know how to phrase his actions. “You pulled me underneath you and… y-you rutted on me. It didn’t last long,” you cover, trying not to faint with embarrassment at having to describe Sam’s actions, “you passed out.”

Sam looks at his knees. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been drinking so much, I didn’t realize… I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“I don’t think so,” you reply quietly, “just scared. I was afraid that if I tried to fight, you’d get angry.”

He swallows thickly and stands up. “It won’t happen again.” He makes to head into the bathroom, but stops at the door. “I promise that I’ll never force myself on you like that again. Do you understand?”

You nod, keeping your eyes on the bed. “Yes.”

He lets out a soft sigh and steps into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

***

By the time you finally make it downstairs for breakfast, Sam’s sobered up. Dean and John sit at the table in their usual places, and you briefly make eye contact with Dean as Sam pulls your chair out for you, but says nothing, only sips his coffee like nothing’s happened.

You don’t feel like eating more than a slice of toast. Sam tries to get you to eat more, but doesn’t press the issue. You look like a wreck, even after washing your face and brushing your hair, and John points your appearance out on more than one occasion, much to Sam’s displeasure.

The rest of the day passes with minimal event. Sam and Dean retreat to the basement after John takes the carriage into town to catch a train to Boston, and you set a blanket out underneath the shade of the large apple tree to read another chapter of Darwin’s book.

Around midday, Sam brings out a tray of food and sits with you. It’s nothing special, just cheese, bread, and a bowl of strawberries. It’s an apologetic gesture more than anything, but you accept it with kindness. Barely any words are spoken before the tray is cleared and Sam returns inside, leaving you in the gardens alone.

The cook, who you’ve learned only comes at night, is given the night off, leaving you, Sam, and Dean alone in the house. You separate yourself from Sam and head up to the bedroom while the two men retreat to the library to begin a game of chess.

Dean, unable to help himself, takes the opportunity to spill the events of the previous evening.

“She tried to run away last night,” Dean mutters, claiming one of Sam’s pawns. “Caught her tryin’ to get out the front door.”

Sam stiffens. Anger wells up inside his chest, burning red behind his eyes. You tried to run from him. “She didn’t tell me.”

“Of course she didn’t, she knows what happens when Omegas try to run.” Dean smirks wickedly. “Doesn’t help that she doesn’t have a goddamn claim on her yet.”

Sam pushes his chair back, fists clenched by his sides as he storms out of the room.

#what goes bump in the night #alpha!sam winchester #alpha!sam x omega!reader

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artistic-writer · 6 years ago

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Something More :: Captain Swan Omegaverse Fanfic :: E

Title: Something More by @artistic-writer and @doodlelolly0910 Rating: E Word Count:9k+ A/N: Behold! Happy birthday to my person @hollyethecurious ! I am not going to lie to you, @doodlelolly0910 and I started this a while ago, and luckily, most of it was written before I went into hospital. I had grand plans to create some tantalizing art, but then Tumblrgate happened and it would get taken down immediately, so to accompany this delicious, sexy, scrummy addition to our ABO co-writing collection, I have made a photoset. To ensure it doesn’t get flagged, I am going to post it seperately. And to make it double safe, I am posting all the naughty words under a cut ;)

We hope you have a great birthday and enjoy this, which i’m sure you will.

Also on AO3

EMMA 12:10 PM

Are you coming home soon?

EMMA 12:14 PM

Killian? Are you done yet?

EMMA 12:37 PM

You are taking forever!

EMMA 12:58 PM

Are you ignoring me?

EMMA 1:09 PM

KILLIAN JONES!!!!!!

By the time Killian had paid for the very essential, very required item Emma had sent him to the store for - how many candles does one woman need? - his phone has chimed in his inside jacket pocket no less than four times. As soon as he had made his way back to their truck, stowing the bagged goods into the seat next to him, he reached into his pocket to retrieve the handheld device. He quickly unlocked his screen and noticed five notifications from Emma, the last one simply his name she was seemingly shouting at him via text message.

With a smirk, he dialled her number. It would be easier to explain in a call that he had been held up in line by an elderly man paying in pennies than it would be via text. The phone had barely connected the call when his very frantic, very stressed sounding Omega answered, sighing in relief into the phone.

“Love,” Killian soothed softly. “Are you alright? I’m sorry, I-” he began, but he was quickly interrupted.

“Are you okay? Why weren't you answering me? Are you coming home? Did you get my candles?” Emma couldn't stifle the rapid fire questions that poured from her lips. She'd been pacing the floor since her Alpha had left, fingers nervously stroking over his claim scar at the base of her throat. She regretted sending him out immediately, feeling the separation like a tug on her soul the second the door had closed behind him, but she needed those candles. And she was in the middle of washing every blanket in the house so that only left Killian to fetch them.

“Easy there, love,” Killian rasped slowly, using his voice to calm her. Emma was no stranger to anxiety and to be fair, he had been gone longer than he had intended. “I am just on my way home,” he promised her, leaning forward to start the ignition. “I’ll be with you soon.”

“Oh, thank God. I'm sorry, I just… I miss you. A lot. Did you get my candles? The ones with the cinnamon spice scent, not the cinnamon sugar, right?” The dryer buzzed its end and Emma propped her phone between her shoulder and her face as she bent down to retrieve the bedding from inside.

Before the truck lurched into drive, Killian let the engine idle, ticking over and rocking the whole cab. He leaned over into the passenger seat, reaching into the brown paper bag and pulling one of the candles free. With a narrowed gaze he examined the small, fine print label on the bottom, suddenly wishing he has thought to bring his reading glasses. “Yes,” he agreed with a nod. “Cinnamon spice, as requested.” He heard her sigh again, the sound of relief. “You seemed tense, my love. Are you sure you’re alright?”

“What? Yeah, I'm fine, except this place smells like a stale closet. I've just finished the last of the laundry, so it's a little better.” She flopped the linens onto their king sized bed and sat down next to them with a huff, blowing an errant blonde tendril off of her forehead. “Are you almost home?” she asked again expectantly, as if he would have magically teleported to her by now.

“Ten minutes,” Killian told her firmly. “I promise,” he said, checking the traffic at the junction to the car park. He looked left and then right, letting the in-car Bluetooth pick up his phone and engage the hands-free for his call. “I’ll stay on the line with you, alright?” Before she had time to answer, he was joining the small line of traffic and heading home.

Emma had been more panicked than usual lately, and neither of them knew why. She was still the same Emma, only her anxiety had been playing havoc on her nerves, and it seemed he was the center of her concerns. Killian would do anything to make sure she was happy, even buying candles in the middle of the afternoon if she so pleased. It wasn’t just candles though. Emma had sent him to the store on more than three occasions in as many days, just to get something she needed.

The first time it was a certain type of snack, a biscuit he had introduced her to whilst on vacation in his home country of England. That was more than difficult to find, but he had returned triumphant after four hours of searching. Then he has been sent out to find her a specific type of bottled water, lightly sparkling with a hint of lemon. A new obsession of hers, and again, hard to find, and now the candles. It didn’t matter what he was buying, his end goal was always to see the beautiful smile light up his mate’s face, and he knew the candles would do that.

“So, do you have a plan with these candles?” Killian asked, a teasing lilt to his voice. “They don’t specifically say they are unsafe for contact with skin,” he growled, lowering his voice even though he was the only one in the truck. “In case you know, you wanted to play later on?”

“Well, my goal was to make the house not stink so bad,” she said with a laugh, putting her phone on speaker and setting it on the nightstand beside her. “But I'm not opposed to alternate uses.” She groaned as she lifted the bundle of fabric on the bed again and shook it out. It smelled better, not like it had been sitting in storage for months, but something was still missing. The candles would help. She just knew it.

She struggled with adjusting the blanket over the bed by herself, her brow creasing in concentration as she wiggled it into place. This last heat of hers had been a doozy and the residual hormones were driving her crazy even these few weeks later. It wasn't often that Emma felt out of control of her own body, but she did now and she was grateful she had found such an understanding Alpha.

Killian was the biggest constant in her life, and once she took a chance on love again with him, she knew he was her forever. She would do anything for him, and he her, but her old feelings of rejection sometimes bubbled to the surface still. Like now. But Killian was still Killian through all of it, supporting her through her anxiety and not even blinking twice when she made the strangest of requests.

“Maybe we should skip dinner?” Killian suggested playfully. “Jump straight to the dessert we both know will be much better than my cooking.” Joking always cheered Emma up, and so did flirting, but since Emma’s last heat and then his rut a few days after it had started, all he could think about was having even more of their bedroom antics. There was something new, something that permeated every breath he took when he was around her, but something he couldn’t place. All he knew was it was heady, sending his body and his inner beast into a frenzy.

“How about that, Omega?” Killian said darkly, using her title as a command, heat instantly pooling in his groin. He couldn’t smell her over the phone, but even the thought of tasting Emma’s new scent was making his mouth water. “You want me to give you dessert?”

Emma's breath hitched the second his voice had growled out her title, a wave of slick dampening her panties. They had a healthy sex life, just like any other Alpha and Omega, but this inner desire for him lately had been clawing at her from the inside. She had developed a few new cravings lately, but her craving for her Alpha had been damn near insatiable. Everything about him, his touch, his voice, his scent, it was driving her mad with need.

“God, yes, Killian,” she breathed, her voice almost a purr of want.

She snatched her phone from where it lay and walked to the door, intent on waiting for him in the living room when a scent gave her pause. She inhaled deeply through her nose, trying to discern the source of the delicious smell when her eyes landed on the hamper near the door. She wrenched the hinged lid open and found her prize sitting right on top. The red and black flannel that Killian had been wearing all day yesterday. It stunk to high heaven, Killian having sweated in it while he was chopping up the huge logs stacked on the side of their little house for useable pieces for their fireplace, but it was like a puzzle piece snapping into place for what she had been craving (not to mention for her libido).

Emma lifted it from the hamper and pressed it to her face, inhaling deeply, a shiver running through her body at the addition to the fresh scents surrounding her. This is what was missing. She set her phone down on the lid of the hamper after she closed it again, immediately stripping down to her underwear and putting her arms through the sleeves, letting his scent surround her and nuzzling into the collar.

“Alpha…” she whimpered, turning on her heel and stalking straight back to their bed, her phone gripped tightly in her fist.

The timbre of Emma’s plea had Killian rock hard in seconds and a low growl escaped from his throat. Their driveway seemed much longer than before as he pulled up in the truck, not even letting the vehicle come to a complete stop before he was grabbing the bag of groceries and leaping from the cab, rushing to the door. He was sure Emma could hear him panting, the harsh breaths he was taking as he climbed their porch steps three at a time, trying to see clearly enough to jam the key into the lock and let himself in.

Once the door was open, Killian was hit with Emma’s scent. It was stronger than when he had left, the distinctive taste of her slick coating his tongue and making the burn in his stomach boil up once more. He looked around, kicking the door closed and planting the bag of groceries on the kitchen island, but finding her nowhere. But she was somewhere, he could smell her, the skin on the back of his neck prickling as he inhaled again, eyes pinched closed to savour the inviting fragrance.

“Emma?” he called out softly, his voice almost like he knew exactly where she was but wanted her to call out to him. He took a tentative step towards the stairs, the scent much stronger there. “Where are you, Omega?” he growled, kicking off his boots before starting his ascent, his heart hammering in his chest. He heard a whimper and his ears pricked up, the sound coming from their bedroom. “There you are,” he rasped to himself, a sultry smirk plastered on his face as he headed straight to his prize.

The bedroom door was closed almost all the way, only open a small crack that he could see through as he approached. The tantalizing smell grew stronger the closer he got to the white panel door, his fists balling at his side, his palms sweaty from anticipation. Emma whimpered again, and he felt his stomach fall, the throbbing in his jeans almost too much as his erection strained against his fly.

He reached out, pushing the door open. It swung slowly, creaking on its hinges and he gasped at the sight of Emma sprawled out on their bed, writhing in the freshly laundered sheets in what looked like his flannel shirt from yesterday and just her underwear. He didn’t even have time to wonder what she was doing because the sounds she was making was enough to compel him forward and into the room, heading straight to the bottom of the bed where he hurriedly shed his shirt and unbuttoned his jeans to relieve some pressure.

“Emma,” he ground out through clenched teeth, tugging on the length in his jeans to help his ache. “What are you doing?”

Before Killian could even finish asking the question, Emma had scrambled up on to her hands and knees and launched her slight form at his larger frame, colliding with his bare chest and burying her face in the crook of his neck.

“You're home,” she murmured, the tension in her muscles easing in his presence, but the coil in her belly twisting tighter. She gripped his shoulders tightly as his arms came around her waist to accommodate the weight she was leaning on him, her nails digging into his flesh as if she couldn't get him close enough. She began planting soft kisses along his neck and shoulder, each growing more frantic than the last, until her hands slid up to cup his scruffed cheeks, bringing his lips to hers.

“I missed you,” she said between kisses. “So much.”

“I’m right here, love,” Killian assured her gently between kisses. His hands danced over her arms, silently cursing the flannel under his fingertips before he slipped his fingers into the unbuttoned shirt and over her skin. He felt her gasp, her lips turning up into a smile as she kissed him, pushing harder against his mouth in eagerness. Killian licked her lips, teasing them until they opened, his tongue meeting hers with a groan of satisfaction.

His hands found the swell of her behind, grabbing the flesh there roughly and pulling her tighter to his frame. He needed her and he couldn’t explain why, the pull of her scent like the call of a sea siren, luring him to his demise under the pretense of pleasure. Killian would gladly dive into the abyss, hands plunging into the fabric of her panties and palming her arse in his roughened grip before his fingers slipped between her cheeks and his fingers were coated in her slick.

“Oh, Emma,” Killian sighed, tearing his lips from hers and rolling his forehead against hers. “Is this for me?” He growled, pushing the material of her sodden panties down, almost tearing the cotton from her body as he kissed down her neck, lips hovering about the scar where he had marked her. He grinned against her skin, inhaling her scent, fingernails digging into her flesh because it was the only thing he could do to stop his knot popping free in his jeans. “Always so wet for me.”

“Only for you. Need you, Alpha, please,” she whimpered and slipped her hands over the planes of his chest, his wiry dark hair tickling her palms.

She usually revelled in the way his muscles would twitch under her touch, but today she was a woman on a mission, his lust heavy scent making her dizzy with need. She kissed and nipped her way down the strained cords of his neck as her nimble fingers slipped into the waistband of his boxers and abruptly pulled them and his jeans down over his narrow hips. She heard a grunt from above her in response as his leaking cock was freed and she licked her lips, only one thing on her mind: getting as much of her Alpha as possible.

She flattened to her stomach on the bed in front of where he still stood, his fingers sifting through her golden curls and gradually tightening in grip. Without giving him a moment to process, she leaned forward and grasped him firmly in her small hand, licking the underside of his cock from root to tip. The startled half yelp he made at the contact only spurred her on and she immediately enveloped the head of him into the heat of her mouth, sucking hard before setting a rhythm. She bobbed her head quickly, her cheeks hollowing tightly around his skin, taking more and more of his length with each pass, her hand covering what her mouth had yet to reach.

“Yeah, love, that’s it,” Killian growled, ghosting his hands over her face, catching her gaze when she looked up at him through her ministrations. She was beautiful, prone and his marble hard length in her mouth, her tongue traces ridges even he never knew he had. Killian felt his balls tighten, the surge of blood to his member enough to take him by surprise and he pulled himself free from her lips with a hiss. “I won’t last if you keep on sucking me like that,” he teased, fingers tangling in her hair and caressing the shape of her skull in his hand.

Emma only hummed around him in response, her hand coming up to clamp around his hip and tug him closer. Her tongue traced and twirled over every inch of flesh it touched, and his groans in the room grew louder. His hand tightened to the point of pain as he helped guide her movements, but it only added to her frantic arousal. He tasted amazing, his scent almost overpowering, and she got lost in her ministrations.

Taking him as deep as she could, she swallowed around him, the head of his cock brushing the back of her throat where it was the tightest and before either of them could process what happened, the familiar tang of his come was splashing her tongue. She swallowed it down, as his hips rutted automatically towards her letting him fall gently from her lips. His hand loosened in her hair and fell away and her brow furrowed.

Well, that had never happened before. At least not unintentionally. She looked up at his face, her expression confused, insanely aroused, and just a little disappointed.

“Jesus, Emma,” Killian gasped, hips still jerking uncontrollably as the last dribbles of his release exited his length. He hadn’t seen it coming, his orgasm sneaking up on him like it never had before, the feel of Emma swallowing around his tip just too much to contain. “Fuck, Omega, you made me come.”

Killian was in shock, his body still tingling from an orgasm that neither had seen coming. His body was primed, far too primed for his liking, the barest of touches setting his body on fire and drawing out his passion. He peered down at the woman on the bed in front of him, fresh slick between her legs giving him a renewed sense of passion that he just had to sate.

“I'm sorry, Alpha,” she said, moving to her side and propping her hand on her head. Her free fingers came up and swiped a droplet of his release from her lip where it had been left behind and sucked it into her mouth. “You just tasted too good.”

He reached out with a dark growl, grabbing Emma roughly and flipping her body over until she was laying on her front facing away from him, a huge red hand print appearing on the globe of her ass as he spanked her. Emma squeaked, almost a giggle, before he grabbed her by the hips and pulled her towards him, setting her arse in the air right in front of his face. “Let’s see how you taste, shall we, love?” Killian purred, pressing his lips to the center of her back. She moaned in response, wiggling her hips beneath his torso.

He kissed downward, the hairs on Emma’s body standing to attention under the flannel she wore. Killian felt her skin pull tight under his assault and he needed to feel her skin on his lips, the offending material between him and his goal only making him more frustrated. With a gentle tug, he lifted the chequered material up over her arse, exposing her bare cheeks to his gaze a little more, a wicked grin spreading over his lips. With a groan, he kissed her behind, fingers slipping between her thighs to coax some of her nectar onto his fingers as he trailed wet, sloppy kisses down the outside of her thigh.

“Gods, you smell amazing,” he rasped, his slippery fingers holding the scent of her so delectably he couldn’t help but sink them into his mouth with an exaggerated sucking sound. He heard Emma moan, whimpering his name on a plea that had him smirking like a fool as he nosed into her folds. “What’s that, my sweet?” he teased, lapping at her from behind, her slick coating his tongue and quenching his thirst. It was almost too distracting, his head spinning for a second before he focused in on her begging.

“Please, Killian, please, I need-” her words were drowned out by a moan as he slipped a thick finger into her heat, his tongue still dragging over her clit like she was the best thing he had ever tasted. Her eyes rolled back into her head and she fell forward onto her elbows. The flannel drifted up to cover her face where it was turned to the side on the mattress, the scent of it almost suffocating her, but she couldn't get enough. She reached her hand up to pull the soft fabric against her cheek, nuzzling into it and trying to rock her hips back against his questing tongue and fingers.

Killian felt a burning in his stomach, the sounds Emma was making as he drank her down like music to his ears. He craned his neck for deeper penetration, tongue skimming the inside of her perfectly, tip scraping over the ribbed flesh of her g-spot and making her shudder. He did it again, eliciting the same response, a fresh wave of slick coating his chin and gingered scruff.

“You like that?” Killian cooed, pulling back to watch the tensing of her muscles as he dipped a second finger into her heat. He twisted his hand and stroked the spongy flesh, again and again, Emma’s thigh shaking and an evil grin spreading over his face. “Yeah, that feels good, doesn’t it, Omega?” He purred, his spent length recovering a little and twitching to life once more. “You like when I fuck you with my fingers, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she groaned, the word drawn out in ecstasy. Her hips rocked against his hold and her thighs began to tremble. She was so close she could feel it in her toes. “I'm going to… gonna… shit!” Emma's calves curled upwards as he hit that spot inside of her once more with a firm flick of his fingers right alongside a perfectly timed curl of his tongue over her clit and she was coming hard. She felt every muscle in her body tense up and vibrate with the strain as wave after wave of her intense orgasm washed over her, but Killian didn't stop. If anything, he went harder, his head tilting to suck at her lower lips and clit as much as he could and his fingertips pressing firmly into her g-spot, tapping them rapidly against her sodden walls.

“That’s it, Omega, come all over me,” Killian grunted, fingers buried inside of her up to his palm, her whole body moving with the force of his thrusts. He kept going, even after she whined for him to let up, the muscles around his fingers growing wetter and wetter. “You got more in you, love, I know it.” Killian has heard of Omega’s with the ability to almost drown their Alpha’s in slick, a strategically placed pressure point just inside of them the spot he needed to find.

And find it, he did indeed, no more than a moment later. Emma nearly collapsed completely at the sensation but his free hand seized her hip firmly as she tried to wiggle away from the ravenous way he was eating into her still, pulling her back against his mouth and pressing on. A new heat built up inside her, overwhelming the first and she swore she blacked out for a minute as sheer pleasure exploded in her veins. A sensation she'd never experienced before jolted through her and it felt like her slick was fountaining from her oversensitized flesh onto his cheeks and chin, all over his hand. She was a trembling, sobbing mess by the time he was through, slipping his fingers from her and bringing her down from her high with broad laps of his talented tongue.

Killian rolled her over, her body limp and lifeless in his hands, her limbs heavy. She was still trembling, the aftershocks still ripping through her each time he skimmed his hands over her hypersensitive flesh, kissing her nimble ankle bone as he held her foot to his lips. “There's my good girl,” Killian rasped sultrily, clambering up onto the bed to finally hover over her, his length bumping the inside of her thigh when he settled between her legs.

The sheets were soaked, dark patches by his knees as he kissed her, mouth gliding against hers tenderly to bring her back down from her high, whole body pressing into hers to make sure she felt safe in his arms. “Emma, my love,” he whispered against her lips, waiting for her eyes to flutter open. “Was that good?” he teased, biting his bottom lip and rolling the flesh between his teeth, something he knew she was powerless to resist.

She didn't answer him with words, her eyes snapping open and locking to his with a feral hunger that he had yet to see from her in the entirety of the time they'd been together. With a strength neither of them were aware she still possessed after an orgasm like that, her knees came up around him to frame his hips and squeezed, rolling them over on the mattress so she was sitting on the bunched fabric around his thighs. She growled in frustration and scrambled off the bed, ripping the remaining clothing free from his body and clambering back to sit astride him. One of her thighs slipped between his legs, the other draped over his hip, her core rubbing deliciously over the bare muscle of his thigh.

Grabbing at the chain around his neck, she pulled him upright to crash her lips against his once more. When he groaned at the contact, she wasted no time slipping her tongue into his mouth, probing every corner of it and tangling around his own tongue. The taste of her on his lips was intoxicating, but underneath it all, the kiss still tasted like him and that made her want all over again.

She felt him shift beneath her to sitting fully, his arms wrapping around her under the fabric of the flannel she still wore and pressing her bra covered breasts to his chest. Her hips rocked down automatically at the new stimulation and her core gained the friction she was craving against his leg. His hands bolted up to her hips and pulled her more tightly against him.

“Oh, God, Alpha, need you so much,” she panted against his mouth, her hands splayed over his jaw as she rocked her hips again. She whimpered as electricity flowed through her blood, concentrating at the apex of her thighs, and she wasn't sure if she would ever be sated at this point. She was completely lost in him, her Alpha, her mate, and love welled up in her chest, taking residence right alongside her arousal. She rocked and rolled her hips faster and faster, his renewed hardness pressing into her hip and leaking precome in a steady stream as she took her pleasure against his flesh.

“Just like that,” Killian growled, watching her ride his thigh with a groan of frustration. It wasn’t enough, her slick coating his flesh like a second skin, hot and humid as she increased her friction and pressure on his thigh. “Take what you need, love,” he coaxed, cupping her face in one hand whilst he snaked the other down to the globe of her behind. He pulled her roughly, each one of her thrusts amplified against his body until her mouth hung open in a silent scream of ecstasy and she was falling once again.

The second she came, she went rigid in his arms, jaw clenched tightly and eyes pinched shut, but Killian was not going to let her pleasure ebb away so quickly. Both of his hands found her backside, fighting against the tense muscles of her legs as he rubbed her still harder against his thigh, her clit bumping the juncture of his hip and making her cry out in a pained euphoria. She shook against his hold, fingers clawing his chest, a fine line of sweat adorning her brow that he could see as she shook her head back and forth and begged him to stop.

“Need…” she gasped, her hips indecisive on whether she was rutting into him or pulling away out of oversensitivity. “Need you, Alpha. Need you. Need you to fill me up, need you to make me whole, please…” the last word came out on a whisper. She had never felt a hunger like this for her Alpha, and she didn’t want it to stop, even though it was consuming her entire being. He rocked back into her, and the sight of his renewed arousal jutting out between them made her mouth water all over again. She swallowed thickly, rutting her hips up and she saw stars, her walls clenching around nothing as she came on his thigh again.

“Please, please, please,” she chanted into the crook of his neck where his scent was the strongest, the scruff on his jaw rubbing over her forehead where he had turned into her, his breath fanning her hair in every direction. She nuzzled into him and clung tighter to his shoulders, sure her nails had broken through his skin by now. He didn’t seem to mind, and she supposed that was a good thing because she could not make her grip on him loosen.

“Shhh,” Killian whispered. His tone was soft but still assertive, and he wrapped his arms around her frame as she rocked against him. “You don’t have to beg,” he growled against her face, leaning forward and laying her out beneath him. Killian kissed her face, soaking up in her post orgasmic glow, loving the way she whimpered at his touch and smiled when he kissed her eyelids.

Emma was limp from her release, and together they were covered in slick and sweat, but Killian wasn’t finished with her yet. She was precious and he had never been so drawn to her. There was something new in her scent and it pulled him in, squeezing him with desire and he never wanted to be free. His hands skimmed over the flannel she wore, making light work of the buttons and pulling the edges apart to expose her creamy skin.

“So beautiful,” he whispered, hands finding her bra and pulling it down to expose her breasts. He kneaded them gently, his chin tucking into the hollow of her neck and lips brushing the ridge of her mark scar. He pressed a kiss to the healed wound, one hand tucking under her behind whilst the other worked his length between her thighs, his tip slipping through her folds on each stroke and stiffening him even more.

“There’s something new about you, Omega,” he rasped into her skin, tongue darting out to taste the top of her breast. His chin scruff tickled her pebble like nipples and she arched her back even harder towards his eagerly awaiting mouth. Killian dragged his nose down her skin, tongue tasting her slowly, huge deep breathes finding the new taint to her being. “Your body calls to me, love,” he growled, positioning himself at her entrance. “More than usual.” His hands slid back up her body, teasing the shirt from her shoulders, gently moving to pull her arms free, but Emma had other ideas.

“No!” Her small hand reached up to cover his own, a low growling sound that she had never made before rumbling up from her chest into her throat. Her eyes flashed in warning and she yanked the fabric free from his grip, pulling it tighter against her. “No,” she repeated, her tone quieter but no less firm. “I… I need it.” Her grip was almost white knuckled around the collar as she protected it from being removed from her body, her growl returning with every twitch of his hand. She was an Omega acting on pure baser instinct, her actions beyond her control and leaving her and Killian both slightly confused.

Killian sat back on his heels, fingertips brushing over the outside of her thighs as he smirked down at her. “What’s got you so possessive?” He teased, tickling her skin in slow, lazy circles as he watched her pout. “Am I not enough for you now?”

“You are,” she rushed to assure him. “I just, I need it. I can’t explain it. It smells,” she inhaled deeply into the collar of the shirt through her nose, “so good.”

“Don’t I smell good?” Killian grinned, cocking his head to one side. He leaned forward again, falling over her frame until his tip bumped her opening and she gasped. He pushed his hips forward, sinking his entire length into her with ease, her slick more than aiding his entry. “Don’t I feel good?”

“Yes,” she moaned, feeling herself stretch deliciously around him. Her walls clenched involuntarily at the intrusion, making them both groan a little. “You feel so good.” She rocked her hips up, seeking more friction, but Killian remained solid, unmoving inside of her. “Killian, Alpha, please, I need to feel you. Move,” she begged again.

Her plea was all he needed to end her torture, drawing his length out of her with a hiss. He rolled his hips, enjoying the way Emma shook beneath him as he did, her muscles pulling him in even deeper when he sunk back into her warmth. He felt her hands on his back, clawing his skin as he buried himself inside of her, and something inside of him snapped. He wasn’t in rut, and yet he felt like he needed to claim her, pound himself into her until he knotted her and she knew he wanted her as much as she did him.

“I’m going to fuck you hard, ‘mega,” he growled, his hot breath ghosting over the shell of her ear. His hands tucked under her behind, changing his angle of entry and making her cry out. “I’m going to make sure you know you’re mine.”

“I am,” she gasped as he delivered a particularly deep thrust into her pliant core. “I’m yours, nobody else’s.” She tried to keep pace with him, rocking her hips in his hold, but he held her firm, exactly where he wanted her, making her take all he was giving her.

“Say it again,” He commanded darkly, pumping into her at a furious pace. He was so hard, stamina increased from his first orgasm, and he knew he was hitting the sweet spot because of how wet she was. He grinned against her neck, voice harsh and raspy. “Say you’re mine and I’ll make you come, Omega. I know you need it.” Killian’s fingernails were digging into her fleshy behind so hard he wasn’t sure if her screams were from that or his clit slapping thrusts, each one slamming her sensitive nub with his pubic bone.

“Yours!” she screamed out, exploding around him, vision blurring at the edges as he delivered on his promise, thrusting into her so hard and deep that she didn’t know which way was up. “Yours, yours, I’m yours, just yours,” she continued to cry out as he fucked her through her high, feeling him swell and twitch inside of her.

The flutter of her muscles around his length had Killian shaking, every muscle in his body contracting as he fought off his release. His thighs quaked, Emma’s moans like music to his ears, his body wet with a mixture of sweat and slick, the smell turning him on even more. His fingernails dug into her flesh, scraping at her skin with eagerness as her core tightened around his length and Killian felt the heady start of his own orgasm. It shook him to the core, rendering him blind as he cried out, fighting the swell of his knot as it tingled in his groin.

“Oh, ‘mega,” Killian gasped, his throat dry and his voice raspy. He released his grip on her bruised skin, smoothing his palm over the area and relaxing his muscles after he came. Still buried inside of her, he fought for breath, his hand finding the side of her face and caressing her cheek. “My sweet thing,” he whispered, planting a kiss to her face, coaxing her back from her own euphoria. “You made your Alpha come, darling,” he smirked against her skin, nuzzling her nose with his.

Emma turned her face so she could meet his gaze head on, a wicked twinkle taking up residence in the depths of her green eyes. Despite having come so many times she'd lost count at this point, she felt that insatiable need rise up in her belly again. She squeezed her knees tight around his narrow hips and rolled them over so she was straddling him, his still marble hard length pressing deeper inside of her.

Killian's eyes blew wide in surprise at the movement and she moaned, leaning forward to brace herself on his sweat slicked chest and beginning to move again. She rocked slowly at first, her recent orgasm sparking back to life, or maybe a new one altogether brewing. It didn't matter because she was soon chasing that end, building speed and throwing her head back at the sensation, her long blonde hair tickling the tops of Killian's thighs.

“God, Alpha,” she whimpered, slamming her hips into his with brute force.

“Oh, fuck,” Killian gasped, his head slamming into the flat pillow behind his head. His hands found her thighs, clawing at her skin in an attempt to control the coil in his stomach that threatened to unfurl at any moment.

Emma rode him hard, her hands flattened to his tensed belly, fingernails scratching at the thatch of hair there with every slam of her hips. His toes tingled, stretching out into nowhere, his still hard member keeping up its duty within her depths. He didn’t even soften a little, his come dripping down his length each time Emma lifted herself almost clean off him, the wet sounds between them only adding to his arousal.

“Omega, I’m going to-,” Killian grunted, his voice laced with confusion as he unexpectedly shot another load of his seed into her. She didn’t stop, clearly turned on by his new release, her muscles pulling him in even further as his cock twitched and spent itself inside of her.

Who knew exactly how long they had been going at it at this point. It felt like an eternity and no time at all as her body shattered above him again. The muscles in her thighs and arms spasmed and she collapsed onto his chest, his arms coming up automatically around her to cradle her twitching form to his body. She was thoroughly spent, but impossibly she craved more, wanting to be filled over and over again. He hadn't knotted her, but she could feel the press of the ring of muscle at the base of his length nudging against her folds. She panted, trying to regain her bearings.

Killian inhaled her scent, the sweet mixture of her slick and sweat making his taste buds tingle. He had no idea what had gotten into her, but he felt a powerful need for more. His hand drew lazy circles on her back, her hips still rutting into his body as his cock obeyed her demands and stayed rock hard inside of her. A smirk played on his lips, fingers stroking through her damp hair as her weight pressed down on him.

“You’ve bewitched me, Emma,” he rasped but all he got in reply was a small squeak of a whine. “You’ve-,” he paused, taking a sharp breath laced full of her musk once more. His words left him, his body taking over as he pushed himself into a sit and clutched her to his chest as she slid onto his member even further. His release coated his length, sticking their bodies together until he eased her down onto the bed with a small whimper of protest and pulled himself from her clutches.

“Easy, love,” he soothed, kissing her chin. “I’ll be back where I belong soon,” he growled, fighting his own body’s reluctance to leave the warmth of her core. Killian kissed down her throat, taking his time to savor her skin with every kiss and a flick of his tongue, until he was face to face with her swollen, slick covered sex. “I just need a taste,” he purred, pressing the flat of his tongue to her clit and closing his mouth hungrily over her folds.

Emma’s body jolted at the contact and she shrieked. Her hips rocked and twisted, as if her over sensitive body wasn't sure if she actually wanted more or if it was too much. He drove her higher and higher, nonetheless, his large hands slipping around her thighs to keep her splayed and steady for him, making her take the pleasure he was giving her.

She felt like she might very well literally explode, the heat in her belly growing exponentially. It was unlike any need she had ever felt before, unlike any ecstasy. When he growled into her flesh, the vibrations had her falling apart all over again and she felt her body push out even more liquid. She was going to need an IV to rehydrate when this was all said and done, but it was so worth it. She turned her face into the collar of the flannel she still wore, breathing in its scent with every breath she took, which only served to heighten her pleasure.

When her heartbeat had stopped thundering in her ears long enough for her to hear anything else, she hardly recognized her own hoarse, wrecked voice as she chanted his name and title like it was the only thing she knew to say. Every muscle in her body was tingling and trembling, but she knew there was more to come.

The taste of his own come was intoxicating, mixed with Emma’s slick as he lapped it up. She was soaking wet, every nerve ending in her sex so hypersensitive that all it took was a small brush of his fingertip, or a flick of his tongue and she was crying out his title. It was all Killian could hear as he devoured her, her slick tainted with something other than his own release, something he couldn’t fathom in the confusion of arousal. He was drunk on her, like an addict taking a fix, and he felt himself harden again between his legs as soon as she sighed his title.

He surged forward, capturing her mouth with his, grinding his growing erection against her thigh as his tongue mapped out the inside of her mouth. Emma moaned, the taste of herself on her own tongue such a turn on she was begging for his hardness against the press of his lips.

“You want more, Omega?” Killian teased her, nipping her bottom lip playfully. His hand gripped at her jaw, holding her darkened green eyes with his own, both their eyes clouded in a haze of lust. Her silence was deafening, and Killian reached down between them to finger her spit covered clit, rousing her back to him with a gasp. “You need my knot, don’t you baby?”

“Yes,” she replied, her voice coming out in a raspy whisper. “Please, Alpha. Need you. Need your knot.” She rolled her hips up into his with what little strength she had left, and she felt his responding growl rumble inside his chest where she was pressed against him. She couldn't explain her need, and she didn't want to try. Her baser instincts had taken over her body completely and her world consisted of nothing but her Alpha and what pleasure he could give her.

“Present,” Killian growled, pulling himself away from her and sitting back on his heels. He stroked his length, lazily watching Emma writhe at the loss of contact his moving had left her with. She was in a state of confusion, barely able to form words when Killian shuffled forward between her thighs and slapped his rock hard length against her clit. “Present for your Alpha.”

Her body reacted on instinct at the command, rolling over onto her belly and shuffling her knees underneath her. She was still shaking from the previous exertions her body had undertaken and her upper body lay so heavily on the mattress, she was almost flat against the surface. She parted her knees, her glistening sex peeking through her legs, and she waited, knowing she would have her Alpha's knot soon.

Her hands gripped the ruined sheets tightly, grounding herself, and she could almost feel the burn of Killian's gaze on her, her core clenching against nothing as he waited for her to settle. She was exhausted, but she couldn't think of anything she wanted more in this world right at that moment than to be tied to her Alpha in the most intimate of ways.

“Shhh,” Killian whispered, smoothing his palms over the globes of her behind. She was exquisite, in every way, and he felt the swell of his knot as he toyed with his erection just by looking at her exposed to him like this. He rose up on his knees behind her, rubbing his tip over her folds, loving the way she tensed her muscles and tried to pull him into her. “So eager for my knot, aren’t we darling?” He crooned, teasing her with the tip of his cock through gritted teeth. “I’m going to fuck you so hard,” he growled, pushing into her a little more, gripping his base so he didn’t pop his knot from the sensation alone. “Give you my knot and fill you up.”

“Yes,” she whispered, rutting back against him. Her muscles protested the movement but she wasn't satisfied just yet. Killian's hand came up to hold her hips tightly as he sank fully into her heat, the delicious stretch making her feel whole once again. Her body lit back up at the push and pull of his length against her walls. She didn't think it was physically possible for her to come again but her body had different ideas. The slightest brush of his length against her g-spot had her crumbling again, wailing out his name and her knees almost giving out beneath her.

Killian held her upright, continuing to rut into her and she pushed back as fervently as she could. It ended up being more of a writhing, wriggling sort of movement as she tried to keep the pace with him. Her body was nonexistent anymore, she was floating on some astral plane of sensation where light and sound were abstract concepts that filled her every pore. She needed just that little bit more to feel truly complete.

Before she knew what was happening, they were rolling, Killian's arms banding around her waist as he turned onto his back, keeping her firmly against his chest. It was too much. It would never be enough. Her inner muscles spasmed in no particular rhythm around his length and he continued to push up into her. Her legs kicked out of their own accord, sliding against his slicked, muscular thighs, trying to gain some kind of purchase.

Killian barely moved, Emma’s movements pulling him in deeper as she pseudo struggled to be free. Her body cried out for mercy, yet she didn’t want it, muttering his title on a cry. He held her through it, rutting into her so slowly he could barely take it himself, her constant state of overstimulation making her muscles twitch with orgasm after orgasm. Finally, he grabbed her face, turning it to his and gobbling up her moans with a kiss, lips pressed against hers so hard they hurt, sure to leave bruises in the morning. The swell of his knot exposed, he gave a single hard thrust up into her warmth, locking himself in place as he spilt yet another orgasmic release up into her and held her tightly against his body as she came for a final time.

“Oh, Emma,” he whispered, cock still throbbing inside of her and his knot pulsating to fire the last remnant of his seed into her. “You’re bloody insatiable. My beautiful treasure,” he rasped smoothly, stroking the side of her face as he kissed her eyelids. “My Omega.” He kissed her again, this time slowly, his lips calming the tremble of her own and helping her body relax against his for the first time since he had walked through the door.

Emma sighed, content for the first time all day. Wrapped up in her Alpha, the candles didn't even matter anymore. This was the scent she had been missing. Her Alpha, their love, home. It was perfect. Even if she'd have to pick up several pillows from where they'd scattered themselves on the floor during their enthusiastic bonding.

She turned her face and breathed deep into the collar of the flannel that still enveloped her torso. It still smelled like Alpha musk, even stronger now that Killian himself was moulded against it, but she herself caught a whiff of something she didn't recognize. She could smell her own scent mingling with his in the fabric, but there was definitely something more. It was almost like her own scent but… brighter somehow. A freshness to the tang and earthiness she was used to.

“Killian?” she asked softly. He grunted in response, making her smile. “What did you mean earlier when you said there was something different about me? Something that called to you?”

“I’m not sure,” Killian said softly, his words muffled by Emma’s hair where he had nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck. He could smell her scent gland, still emitting her intoxicating scent that was somehow tainted. Not with anything sinister, but something that was almost comforting. “All I know is that there is something about your scent that is driving me wild.” Killian shifted them, careful not to pull his knot and cause her pain as he rolled them over and pressed his body to hers, drawing lazy circles over the skin of her stomach. He tucked his chin against her collarbone, pressing his lips to her skin and inhaling her scent contently. “You smell like you, but there’s more,” he said, puzzled.

“Mm,” she agreed. “I smell it, too. Like there's two of me.” She let a short laugh out but it caught in her throat and she froze.

“Love?” Killian asked, concerned that she had suddenly stiffened in his arms. “What is it? Are you alright?”

Emma's throat felt dry, her mind flashing through a hundred things at once. The sensitivity to smells. Her heat coinciding with his rut. The ravenous way she'd been at him. When was her last regular period?

Two of her.

Or at least another half of her. The other half Killian.

“I… I don't know,” she answered honestly. “I just had a thought. A really, really big thought. And I think it's more than a thought.”

“Well, rest assured, love, that whatever it is, I’m here.” Killian pulled her tighter to his chest, the warmth of her body against his something he would always treasure. Even Killian knew that marking an Omega didn’t always mean they were bonded forever, and he had known other Alphas to break their bond in favour of an Omega with an exciting new scent, but Emma was different. She was his true mate, a bond that nothing could break. “I’ll always be here.”

“I'm glad,” she murmured and snaked her hand up to gently encircle his wrist with her fingers, dragging his hand down from beneath her breasts over the flat of her stomach to rest just below her belly button. “Because I think I might need you here with me more than ever these next few months.”

She waited, silence filling the space as she let her words sink in. She chewed on her lip nervously and tried to tilt her head back to catch a glimpse of his face from the corner of her eye as best she could while they were still locked to one another.

Killian’s brow furrowed a little as Emma pushed his hand flatter over her stomach, his thumb brushing the softness of the skin there with an instinctive tenderness that made him realise what she meant. “Are you?” Killian asked with a smile he was sure Emma could hear from behind her, the excitement in his voice something he couldn’t hide. “Are we?” He stammered, the words catching in his throat.

Emma shrugged, a lightness to the gesture she wasn't sure she felt. There was a giddiness rising up inside her, anticipation and excitement that had her cheeks dimpling in a grin. The sound of elation in Killian's voice was music to her anxious ears.

“Makes sense,” she said, her voice high and tight as if she was barely holding in her own emotion. “I think we should get a test. Find out if you're gonna be a daddy.”

And there it was. The words were out there.

The tingle shot through Killian and it was like nothing he had ever felt before. It was a mixture of love and pride, the swell in his chest almost causing tears to prick at his eyes. The pull of his knot as it deflated was ignored, the moment he had been waiting for coming to the forefront of his mind as he rolled Emma onto her back and loomed his weight over her. “I love you, Omega.” He couldn’t hide his grin, his excitement or his eagerness to taste her lips on his as he kissed her, pouring everything he had to offer.

It wasn’t just a kiss, it was a promise; of love, of devotion, of his heart’s desire. For her. For them. For their future.

#cs fic #cs au #abo #omegaverse #alpha!killian #omega!emma #rated: e #for hollye #happy birthday!#from us #because we love you

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rofics · 8 years ago

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Hidden Omega (Part 38)

Fandom: Bts (Got7 + Big Bang + B.A.P + Monsta X + Seventeen + Block B+Vixx+TVXQ+Exo) Who doesn’t love a good ensemb Pairing: Namjoon x Everybody Genre: Smut/Fluff/Angst Au: Canon / Omegaverse au Length: 3.6k Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23, Part 24, Part 25, Part 26, Part 27, Part 28, Part 29, Part 30, Part 31, Part 32, Part 33, Part 34, Part 35, Part 36, Part 37

Summary:

The last of Jackson’s rut and Yugyeom is a puppy that needs to be protected!

The rest of Jackson’s rut was memorable if not at times a little weird. Namjoon himself came more times without an alpha even really touching him. Once was when Mark decided that he would pay Namjoon back from his apparently above average rimming skill. He had tried to turn Mark down since he didn’t produce slick, but the older omega refused to take no as an answer, which was how he ended up on his back with his legs over Mark’s shoulders while the other eagerly ate him out.

The pleasure was intense, and the only thing really keeping him grounded was Jinyoung’s soft petting of his hair, while Jackson and BamBam were going at it again. He could still feel Jackson’s eyes burning on him, but BamBam was nice enough to do his best to distract the alpha knowing that he was making Namjoon uncomfortable.

When Namjoon came he felt like he could sleep for the next century. In his defense it wasn’t like he had really ever tried to build up his sexual stamina. When Jaebum and the rest returned they swapped out leaving the alphas alone.

Namjoon was almost out of the room when he heard a rough voice behind him. “I know I can’t really touch him or anything, but can I atleast get a kiss before you guys go… This doesn’t feel right.”

The question was clearly asked to Jinyoung who had found himself being Namjoon’s kind of guardian. But Namjoon didn’t need the permission from the beta as he took a few steps to the bed bowing down to give Jackson a chaste a kiss. When he was the one who started it, it was a lot easier dealing with the fact that it was an alpha, and he did want a kiss himself.

When it was clear that both of them wanted to make more of the kiss, they both also knew why they couldn’t and both pulled away. Which was good for multiple reasons one of them being that Namjoon wasn’t sure he could even go again if he wanted.

When they were all pulled into the kitchen apparently Jinyoung wouldn’t let them sleep until they had replaced all the calories they had lost. Namjoon was surprised seeing Youngjae sitting there shoveling in cereal like it was nobody's business. “Shouldn’t you be with Jackson?” Namjoon couldn’t stop the words from escaping him, since the younger hadn’t been with them when they had their turn with the in rut alpha.

They wouldn’t leave out Youngjae right? He was still respected as a beta right? Namjoon was worried for a second until Youngjae just smiled at him. “I choose not to. I will help the next team that goes in there instead. I don’t feel it right now, plus I really don’t want to be caught up in the all alpha smexxy time going on in there. Rough sex is not a turn on for me, but that necklace of hickeys you are wearing looks good on you. Did our vampires get to you?”

Namjoon flushed a deep red colour. He had completely forgotten about the marks that the other omegas had placed on him. He didn’t get a chance to answer before he was being captured in a back hug. “He is so pretty like this right!?”

How did BamBam even have the energy to be like this after all they had just been part of. Namjoon could feel his smile into the naked of Namjoon’s back, while he had put on his shorts again he had decided to leave off his shirt like the rest. “BamBam you are making him embarrassed.”

It was Jinyoung who seemed to have taken pity on him as he placed a hand on Namjoon’s shoulder and sent him a kind smile. “You are okay right? It wasn’t to much for you?”

Namjoon shook his head. “I’m fine… I just… uhm.. “ he pointed to his neck, what happened to him being a smart person? Why couldn’t he seem to be able to say what he wanted recently? It was all stupid!

Jinyoung understood him though, since apparently everybody had taken ‘How to understand your Namjoon 101’. “It is a little overwhelming carrying somebody's mark on your body. Even if it isn’t permanent like the bite. I thought they would have a little self control, that was my mistake I clearly expected to much out of them.”

“No it is okay! I promise. I… I kinda like it, it is like something inside me is happy about it.” It was hard for Namjoon to explain, but Mark was there to pick up his slack.

“It is your inner omega. I had it the same way, it is since you are over 21 and still not bound by a pack. It will get worse the older you get, but temporary marking like this will help you. It lets your body and inner omega feel that you are willing to bond with people just waiting for the right pack.” It was so easy for not only Namjoon but the rest of Got7 to forget that Mark had only just joined them. He had been unbound for 4 years before he finally took the bite, that was a long time.

The rest of Got7 got a little silent after that. So much had happened since Mark took the bite that they had almost forgotten it was less than 2 weeks ago since he took it. “You feeling okay Markie-pooh?” The tone was teasing, but it was clear that BamBam actually meant it, and was worried about Mark.

Mark just rolled his eyes. “This is why I haven’t brought it up. I swear to god you guys are way to overprotective! I am fine, if something was wrong or my body was rejecting the bite I would pull somebody aside to talk about it. You trust me to do that right?”

Namjoon wanted to point out the time Mark had come drunk to him, but he also knew the reason Mark was so out of it was because it hadn’t been his secret to keep. It hadn’t been him who had suffered. Thinking of that night made Namjoon rub his cheek where Yoongi had hit him. He kinda missed the fiery alpha, he knew that Yoongi really cared for him, right? He had just been doing tough love.

Youngjae was the first to speak up, while many people called him oblivious he really wasn’t he just tried to keep out of arguments and stuff like that most of the time. “Of course we do Mark, but we are also your pack now it is natural for us to be worried about you, it means we care.”

Mark puffed out his cheeks like a chipmunk and pouted. “You are all so protective that you should think that you were all alphas.” With that the weird tension in the room was cleared, but it made Namjoon think.

It was clear that Mark was still getting used to being in the pack. His problem was that he was very much an individual, sometimes he felt that them caring and being overprotective meant that they didn’t trust him. It was the same issues that they had when they courted him. They had problems accepting how Mark sometimes needed time for himself that he wasn’t like BamBam or even Youngjae, who took attention and sucked it up and turned it into their life fuel. But Namjoon had hoped that the longer they were a pack the more it would work out.

He knew with Jackson’s issues with scent they had some long battles ahead of them, but Mark had picked them. That meant that he believed in it as well. Which gave Namjoon hope, that they could do this, and maybe with him as well some day. He still remembered what Daesung had said to him, he needed to give everybody and himself a fair chance. That he would know when it was right to join somebody and that he couldn’t push himself to feel ready.

He smiled a little sleepily when he sat down at the table to eat. It was easier to eat when he was tired like this and he didn’t need to think about how much he had to exercise to burn it all off. He could just tiredly eat, even taken a few bites that Jinyoung were feeding him to tired to really think about. It was nice to not think about it.

He could faintly remember a few coos as he was pulled into the rut free nest where he was cuddled up between the two betas falling asleep with the two calming scents around him. Namjoon wasn’t sure how long he was napping, but he was aware there was only one person in the nest when he woke up. It wasn’t any of the people that he had fallen asleep with instead the scent of soft butterscotch told him that it was instead Yugyeom cuddling him from behind.

It was hard to explain why it was so much easier for him to accept Yugyeom close to him compared to Jaebum and Jackson. First Namjoon thought it was the age, but after he had meet Jungkook it was clear that age was not a factor. So the only logical reason was that while Yugyeom wasn’t a full on soft alpha, he wasn’t a full on aggressive and normal alpha, he was kinda soft and sweet around the edges, and his scent much less aggressive than normal alphas.

Namjoon turned around in his arms cuddled into the crook of his neck. Even with his still sleep heavy eyes he could see the aggressive marks spanning most of his neck and shoulder around his bite. He still smelled faintly of both Jackson’s rut and Jaebum himself it was actually really nice as he cuddled closer, happy that Yugyeom had at least put on his shorts.

Yugyeom seemed to wake a little as he tightened his grip on Namjoon, but not tight enough that it actually would hurt Namjoon or that he couldn’t get out if he wanted. “You awake?” The baby alpha’s voice was soft enough that he wouldn’t actually wake up Namjoon if the older was sleeping.

“Nah, how long was I out?” Namjoon yawned a little, he was warm and safe. “Is it over?”

Yugyeom clearly caught Namjoon’s yawning as he couldn’t stop himself from yawning as well. “A few hours, and no. Normally it would be around the end now but with Mark’s bite and you being here means that it had adjusted for three omegas so it is going to take time before it is over.”

“Who is with him now?”

“Jaebum and Jinyoung, Youngjae and BamBam were there earlier, but they had to go and train. Mark decided to join them because and I quote ‘This place stinks’, which I think is Mark talk for ‘This is turning me on to much, and I’m not feeling it.’”

Namjoon giggled a little and not for the first time since he got here he was struck with how much the younger reminded him of Jungkook. It just made him feel a little worse about how much they had failed Jungkook and now the baby alpha thought that he had failed them. “You don’t want to join them as well?”

“Maybe, but I needed a nap as well and you looked warm and smelled nicely! Your scent is slowly getting stronger. I’m not sure if it that is the medicine is finally working or if Jackson’s rut is pulling it out of you, but I like it alot. It fits you very well.”

That actually made Namjoon happy to hear, since he couldn’t really smell his own scent he had to trust everybody else to tell him when his scent was getting stronger. Also maybe he kinda liked the fact that people seemed to like it. Having a scent that was hated by everybody including himself, it was nice to finally feel accepted.

“They did a job on you though.” Namjoon couldn’t stop himself from teasing pressing a little on one of the marks on his shoulder. What he didn’t expect was for Yugyeom to blush and look a way. “I’m sorry to far?” Namjoon was quick in excusing himself, he never meant to make Yugyeom uncomfortable.

Yugyeom just laughed a little higher than his normal voice. “It’s not that, they do it because I like it?”

Namjoon nodded a little hesitant, he could kinda understand it. It had felt good when they had been placed him and he told Yugyeom that, but the younger corrected him. “That is not what I meant. I like when they are on me. I don’t take scent marks as well as omegas or even betas do. But these,” he motioned towards the many red marks on him, “they stay on me. That make me feel like I belong. It is hard to explain, I know that I am not actually a soft alpha, but sometimes I feel like I am.”

Yugyeom was clearly struggling in explaining himself, and Namjoon could feel the leader inside himself coming to the surface as he lightly petted Yugyeom’s hair. “It doesn’t matter you know that right? Everybody loves you like you are, you don’t need to be a soft alpha for that. And even if you aren’t you are still soft around the edges, a giant softie is what you are. Why else do you think that you are the only alpha that never seems to make me uncomfortable?”

It was good to see that he hadn’t lost his touch with knowing exactly what to say as Yugyeom sent him a huge smile like a puppy. Namjoon could almost imagine a little tail flopping around. “Thank you, it is hard to explain it to people. People just think I’m weird.”

“The only thing weird about you is the fact that I think they have fed you growth hormones and maybe that haircut as well.” Namjoon was feeling like he could finally joke with people again, like before everybody had presented.

Yugyeom whined again like a puppy. “It is not my fault everybody else is short!” He hid his head in Namjoon’s shoulder this time.

Yeah Namjoon was happy like that. Yugyeom and he talked a little bit more before they both made it to the kitchen. The second nest was mainly scent proof and soundproof so while they could still smell a little of Jackson’s rut it was mostly like they were alone. Turned out that neither of them should really be trusted in a kitchen so they ate some ramen instead. Light conversation flowing between them until Namjoon almost dropped his bowl on the floor since he was still the most destructive human in existence.

Yugyeom took the bowl from him setting it down and then asking him. “Do you want to go and see what they are up to and if they need 2 more people?”

Namjoon was hesitant, he wasn’t sure if he could be touched by this many alphas. “Yugyeom… I still struggle with alphas”

The maknae looked a little hesitant before asking instead. “What if only Jinyoung touches you? I promise we can keep Jackson in control.”

Namjoon trusted them, he really did so he nodded a little hesitant. “Okay,” so maybe he really wanted to see Jackson again in that wonderful smell of rut. He looked really good with that glaze over his eyes and maybe it was nice to feel wanted when he couldn’t even look in the mirror without feeling disgusted. “Are you sure that you guys don’t just want some time alone? I know it is weird having to babysit me like that.”

“Namjoon we all have moment like this. I have helped Jinyoung more than once running interference when Mark needs to be left alone. Sometimes Jaebum and Jackson need to be kept from each other during a tough heat. I promise you, this is really nothing.”

Ah so Yugyeom was the one helping Jinyoung. He should have expected that shouldn’t he. No disrespect to BamBam or Youngjae, but they were both as depending on physical contact on the two alphas and they didn’t always understand that Mark wasn’t like that.

That was what lead to the third time Namjoon came during the rut. It was very different from the first time. Yugyeom and Jaebum were a lot harsher with the alpha than both Jinyoung and BamBam. While Jinyoung had been in control over Jackson it wasn’t like this. Namjoon was almost scared when Jaebum forced Jackson to present his scent gland to him and show who was really the pack alpha.

Namjoon almost wanted to stop them, afraid that somebody was getting hurt. But Jinyoung stopped him softly petting Namjoon’s hip. “It’s okay, look at them. What Jaebum is doing is grounding him, forcing himself to not lose himself to much to the rut it keeps his mind clear. See it is like the haze is a little gone from his eyes. Jaebum would never do anything that could hurt him, problem is since Jackson can’t smell his own scent or any scent at all his rut really fucks with his body. Every rut is different of course, Jaebum’s nearly non sexual at all. Yugyeom’s is much more about him needing to feel that he still belongs to us instead of us belong to him like it is with Jackson. No rut is the same, it shows their position in a pack.”

The younger nodded a little looking at the three alphas half rolling around until it ended up with Jackson between Yugyeom’s legs and rutting against his ass again making Namjoon a little worried. “He is going to fuck Yugyeom while in rut right?”

Jinyoung shook his head rubbing his hand infront of Namjoon’s shirtless chest the sight in front of him had started turning him on. “He can’t really fuck Yugyeom at all without hurting him, and even in his rut he knows that, he just going to rub off against him. Yugyeom can really only take Mark and BamBam without issues and me and Youngjae if we are careful and prepare him well. Since he isn’t a soft alpha, his body can’t really take it, but it is okay.”

Namjoon bit his lip to hold back a moan, not wanting to pull attention on himself instead keeping his focus on the three alphas on the bed close to them. As Jinyoung had predicted Jackson was rutting against Yugyeom’s ass with Jaebum softly petting Yugyeom’s hair and at the same time keeping a grip on Jackson’s. Namjoon wasn’t sure if it was to control him or what, but Jinyoung was ready to explain to him. “He likes it, he likes having his hair pulled no matter if it is like this or somebody doing it while he is fucking them.” He gave Namjoon a soft kiss over one of the many hickies the two omegas had placed on him. “I want to try something if you trust me?”

Namjoon was quick to nod, he knew that he could trust Jinyoung. It wasn’t like he would ever do something to hurt him. Jinyoung just smiled “On your back. I want to open you up like BamBam did, but this time you focus on me instead of eating somebody out. I want to see your face when you come and showing me the pleasure of what I do to you.”

That made Namjoon quickly get on his back, still careful to not interrupt the alphas. God the scent was starting to get to Namjoon’s head again and he could clearly see that it was affecting Jinyoung as well, as he a grabbed a bottle of… lube? Oh yeah of course how else would he do it. Namjoon was slow today. He easily opened his legs for Jinyoung to place himself between as the beta guided one of his legs over his shoulder that way exposing his entrance. Namjoon felt a little shy about being bared like that but a soft kiss was placed on his inner thigh which calmed him down a little and only a few second after did he feel the first finger of Jinyoung slowly and oh so softly pressing into him, his body easily accepting it into him.

Even if he wasn’t able to create slick yet, he was still an omega and his body was made for this. God if he had known this would feel so good he would have changed his maturbation habits long ago!

It didn’t take long before Jinyoung let a second finger join him slowly scissoring him open. He had to close his eyes and focus on not being too loud, instead just small mewls coming from his mouth. Again he didn’t know what to do with his hands other than the one pressing on his mouth, that was until he felt another hand find his and intertwine their fingers. It made him open his eyes to look to his side.

It was Yugyeom, he hadn’t even noticed how close they had ended up to the alphas. His position was mirrored to Namjoon’s. Jackson was still rocking almost desperately against him, his face now buried in Yugyeom’s scent gland mouthing and biting at it placing more marks. That was when he noticed Jaebum’s heated eyes on him watching what him and Jinyoung was doing. But his smile was calming when he smiled at Namjoon clearly showing that he was still in control of himself and he was respecting Namjoon as he petted the baby alpha’s hair again. “You both look so cute like this.”

Yeah that made the two youngests cheeks flare up and Namjoon wanted to say something, but at that time it seemed that Jinyoung had finally found what he was searching for as he jabbed his fingertips into Namjoon prostate. This time not even Namjoon’s hand in front of his mouth could keep him quiet. He had always known it was natural to him to be loud and this turned out to be the same.

He knew he wasn’t going to last as Jinyoung started massaging his balls in his other hand. “Don’t hide your sounds Joonie, you sound so pretty.” Yugyeom gave his hand a little squeeze and both turned their head to the side their noses were touching making them both smile at each other until a moan was forced from both of them.

Jinyoung seemed very eager to make Namjoon come and he now had 3 fingers inside of Namjoon pressing on the little nerve inside of Namjoon that made him see stars. He wanted to warn Jinyoung that he was going to come, but he never got to as in that second soft lips were pressed to him and the soft scent of butterscotch took over his senses. When he came it was with a whine of Yugyeom’s name into said alpha’s lips.

Authors note:

Since a few people have asked here is the order of packs which Namjoon is going to:

Hot7 B.a.p Block B Monsta X

In that order, in between he will have moments with both Big Bang and BTS, we will also go to 'catching up with BTS' but I am slowing that down since Namjoon's story line is very slow and I need everybody to end up at the same place at the same time.

Jesus christ! I got 400 votes on my poll, and with 78% there will be another smut scene! The thing I want to say to the No people, it isn't going to be with no plot, and it is going to showcase how Namjoon is with alpha's and about half heats!

Previous Chapter ! Next Chapter!

#Bts #Got7 #Namjoon #bts scenarios #namjoon scenario #Bangtan #Rap Monster #rap monster scenarios #RapSon #NamSon #gotbangtan #omega verse #Smut #Jackson #Yugyeom

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