#(some of my alpha readers have opinions on this) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yanderenightmare · 3 months

Text

TW: noncon, yandere, omegaverse, subjugation, some type of sexism, angsty, also a little fluffy?

fem reader

Discussions about superiority and inferiority between Alphas, Betas, and Omegas have become more popular lately. It’s always been many people’s opinion that the weak should cater to those stronger than them—but a debate with that as its topic is unsavory. Unfortunately, they’ve found new ways to phrase it.

A resonating “Unmated Omegas are a danger to themselves!” garners much more sympathy…

And with the rise of people talking about it in the media, it was only natural to move the conversation into school as well.

You keep your head bowed in class as the chill runs down your spine. You feel the glare of thirty fellow students—the points of their teeth, too, and how they snicker under their breath. It’s always been rather scary being an omega, but you can’t say you’ve ever felt quite so alone.

The teacher’s an alpha, so why should he care how what he says impacts you? He’s preaching to the choir, and you’ve never had the right to sing. The three other Omegas in your class have all chosen to stay home. They probably have the right idea—wait it out until it all blows over.

But you don’t know when that might be… You don’t know if that will be.

Society is on the precipice of critical change—new politics, new laws, new systems, new rights that separate you from them. You wallow in fear of the outcome, lying awake at night and scrolling through the news under the safety of your duvet. The statements seem endless. You wonder, why are all politicians Alphas?

You don’t want any of the things they’re suggesting—mating homes to help you find the perfect Alpha to bond with, systematic pairings done from birth, auctions. Is no one going to suggest they put shock collars on all Alphas and Betas to keep them in check? They’re the ones who need to—

“Your scent is distracting the whole class—don’t you feel ashamed?”

It’s too easy for him to have you bent over the desk, your wrist on your back in his big fist as he wraps his tie around them. He and his goons stand around, all smiles—watching—enjoying it. It’s as if they’ve planned the whole thing, the way two of them peel away from the crowd to grab each their pick of your feet. Parting them, they use your own shoelaces to tie them to the desk legs.

The ringleader laughs. There’s an awful smell coming off him in waves—it makes you quiver. He flips your skirt up and whistles at the sight, showing everyone your ass and cotton undies. The bulge he presses against you is enough to make your tears spill despite how hard you’d fought to keep them at bay, knowing it only arouses them further.

“Aww, don’t cry, little bitch. You should be happy,” he coos, leaning over your trapped form to whisper right at your ear. “Don’t you know? You’ll never feel happier than you will bouncing on my big Alpha dick. It’s all your little Omega cunt dreams about, isn’t it?” He snickers, fiddling with his belt buckle—you flinch at every sharp clink as he jostles the metal. “Well, salvation is here—”

“Keep it to yourself.” Another voice breaks through the sounds of hollers and cheers.

Your eyes open to see him. You despise how your heart jumps in relief.

“Oi, you—” the guy at your back challenges, stepping away from you and toward the interruption.

“Yeah, me,” he states blankly, jaded. He eyes the rest of the guys with disinterest—five betas, zero threat—before telling them, “All of you. Scram.”

They all take a step to walk out as if his voice alone had compelled them, but then the previous guy interjects, making them stop in their tracks again. “Tch—you know what they’re saying. All unmated Omegas are free game, and I won this one. So back off.”

It was like watching a match of tug-of-war.

“Heh,” the intruder laughs. “That rule only counts for Alphas.”

You spot your aggressor's fists curl—there’s a growl rumbling in the back of his throat. “I am an Alpha, asshole.”

“Really?” he feigns, sizing him up with a cocky tilt of his head. “Couldn’t tell.” He doesn’t seem fazed in light of the aggression—actually, it seems to amuse him if anything. “To me, you smell no different from all these other Beta losers.”

He takes a casual step forward, hands in his pockets and a smile on his face—baring canines with grace.

“But if you wanna prove it, I’m ready when you are.”

It’s quiet after the declaration. The betas are unsure who’s side to pick, none of them eager to get caught in the middle. It becomes a competition purely between the two Alphas.

Without backup, your aggressor backs down and leaves.

“Thought so,” your savior jeers, showing the crowd out, closing and locking the door behind them.

It’s quiet after they’ve left.

You hide your face. Listening to his footsteps approach—he sighs when taking the place of the former guy. He doesn’t touch you, though.

“Y’know…” he starts. “That guy might be trash, but he isn’t wrong…” He picks up your skirt and drapes it back in place. “None of this would ever happen if you weren’t unmated.”

You speak through grit teeth. “Untie me.”

He chuckles familiarly at that, clicking his tongue at you. “What? Aren’t you gonna say please?” But he does what you say anyway. Squatting down, he starts with your ankles.

The scent of your fear still lingers in the air despite your tough act. You’ve always been so steadfast, ever since you were kids, even when it does you no good. He frees your feet—one, then the other, slowly—he even reties your laces into pretty bows before he’s done.

He remembers it being so obvious. The sun rose in the morning and the moon at night, and you were supposed to be an Alpha while he a Beta at best. You promised you’d be by his side to keep him safe forever, and he wanted nothing more.

But then puberty hit, and nothing was as you’d imagined.

He stands and unknots the tie keeping your wrists restrained.

You immediately push him off—already storming away.

“Do I get no thank you, no nothing? Always so stubborn—” He grabs your arm.

You spin around, an unnatural snarl on your face. “Let go!”

You’d have been a terrifying Alpha. But as fate has it, you’re not. And you shouldn’t act like it. It only lands you in trouble.

But he doesn’t say that.

“You been watchin’ the news?” he says instead, ignoring your cry and keeping a firm grip on your arm. “Seems like auctions are winning the voters. You know what that means?”

He feels you flinch, followed by a quiver. He can tell. No matter how good you are at hiding it. He can see—the way you’re fraying at the edges, barely holding it together. Always acting so strong. He can’t tell whether you enjoy torturing yourself or if you’re just that good at convincing yourself you’re fine.

“Pretty soon, new authorities are gonna come storming in here, roundin’ up every sorry unmated Omega they find, and put ‘em all on a farm where pompous Alphas can have their pick of the litter.”

He can never tell what you’re thinking, but he knows he doesn’t need to tell you any of this. You’re not stupid, you never have been. He knows you already know. But…

“You should decide now while it’s still your choice.”

You must be terrified. He understands. But truly… it’s obvious what you have to do, isn’t it?

“It’s not like you have many options.”

It’s obvious. It always has been.

You don’t meet his eyes. You haven’t for a long while. Actually, you haven't since both of you got your test results. He understands this wasn’t what you had in mind, but you can’t afford to mope about it forever—

“How am I supposed to choose any Alpha when you’re all such assholes…”

Your mutter stunts him. It wasn’t what he expected. Or, the words were more or less exactly something he’d expect from you, but that voice—quiet and soft, dangling on the brink of sweet. If you’d said anything else, he’d have taken it as a confession.

“Can't argue with that,” he ends up chuckling again.

You hate how easy this is for him. He would cry at every turn when you were kids. It’s unfair.

“But you can’t keep doing this, either,” he states. His voice is soft, paired with that ugly authority they all have when talking to you—talking down to you. “Just look where it gets you—scared and exhausted because of it. At least have the brains to stay home.” He says it as if it’s a joke, but you both know it isn’t. His chuckles are light—far from fullhearted.

He bends down, trying to find your eyes. He still holds onto your arm, knowing you’d sooner stomp away than listen to him. His other hand brushes your cheek gently, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“You hear the call from the rafters—it’s not about what you want anymore. It’s about what you need.”

That’s what they say, isn’t it? What you need. You want to slap him. Scratch him with claws, bite his throat out—make him choke on his own words. Need? What you need is for them all to fuck off.

You mean to say it with the same sentiment, but something hard and rough in your throat makes all your words come out wobbly. “Mate an Alpha to stay safe from other Alphas. What a joke.”

You bow your head further. The tears return. They burn as they trail down the sore streaks from before.

He’s never seen you like this. He won’t lie, it makes his pants tight—feeling the urge to suck your cheeks, hold you close and comfort you. But knowing you right, you’d probably never let him. Your face would probably scrunch up in disgust, punch his gut, knee his groin, then turn on your heel and leave him on the floor wheezing.

You really would have made the most terrifying Alpha.

“The world isn’t fair,” he agrees. “But you get nowhere cryin’ about it—do it my way, and you’ll never—”

“Have any freedom,” you cut him off with a sniffle.

It’s about the most adorable thing he’s seen in his life.

He gets why you don’t like Alphas—they’re all gross. He makes himself sick sometimes. He can’t believe he’s getting off on watching you have a mental breakdown. There’s something seriously wrong with his side of the species. His throat’s tight, mouth watery with the urge to reap your vulnerability.

Suppressing it only makes his inner beast furious. Some of that aggression comes out in his next words.

“I’m sorry, but the world doesn’t give a shit about your freedom.”

The grip around your arm tightens, and you look up in shock—watching his narrowed eyes through your watery ones.

“What you need is safety—now more than ever. Or do you like being preyed on by every Alpha around the corner?”

Your bottom lip trembles at the reality of it—a little while ago, you were almost—

“One of these days, I'm not gonna be here in time, and you’ll be a slave to some fucking—”

He huffs and hangs his head. His hand loosens up—it trembles where he holds you in place.

“In all honesty, I think I’m more scared than you,” he whispers under his breath. “I think I might kill—”

He stops himself again. You don’t know if it’s in an effort not to frighten you or himself.

“Speak about needs…” he begins anew, now softer. “I need to know you’re safe. I need to—” He looks up. His eyes are back to being round. “I need you more than you need me, probably.”

There’s a desperation on his face. It almost looks like he’s on the verge of tears himself.

“So… please?” he begs. “Will you keep me safe like you promised and stay by my side?”

Your tears dry and prickle. Looking into his eyes now, you see the same boy you knew back in your childhood—that one who’d chase you all over even when you’d call him a sniveling crybaby. You realize, Alpha or not, he hadn’t changed all that much at all.

“It’s not like you need my permission,” you end up saying.

You’ve always been so hard-headed. He has to smile. “No, but I want it.”

You nibble your lip. You can’t believe you’re at the mercy of this big dumb hunk of… you don’t have the words to describe him. He wasn’t exactly a crybaby anymore.

“Okay. You win.”

His eyes widen as you bear your neck with a stretch. Head high and shoulders slack.

You swallow thickly. “Get it over with.”

He shudders at the sight. He didn’t know what he’d been expecting, but now it almost seemed too soon.

“We should be supervised by a professional—you know how wrong things can go—”

“Hurry up before I change my mind.” Your eyes remain shut, and your lips pursed.

His tongue grows thick in his mouth at your bark. A sudden stroke of performance anxiety makes his palms sweaty, hands heavy and shaking. But then the sight of your soft neck has his mood shift, becoming drowsy.

He has no control over the growl that begins rumbling from his gut.

But he doesn’t apologize for it either.

He bends forward—breaths on your chest before he licks your throat. You can’t help but whimper at the warmth. He watches you through hooded eyes—your usually angry face is now all cute, riddled with anxiety you try hiding paired with the grim anticipation of pain.

“Shh,” he soothes, kissing the spot softly. He sways you against him, then lifts you up on the desk for you to sit. Grazing your neck with teeth when feeling your hands tangle two fistfuls of his shirt. He expects you to push him away, but you don’t—you tug him closer instead as if silently telling him to hurry up.

But he doesn’t want to rush, doesn’t want to lose himself—that’s how accidents happen. So he sticks to sucking gently, only tiny nibbles that leave your skin hot and lightly bruised in their wake.

You give a moan once he finds the spot, and he growls in restraint upon the pretty sound—feeling you relax despite being threatened with his teeth right at your artery. He almost humps your leg in return, feeling the boil of blood pump him hot and heavy in his pants—breaths turning equally hot and heavy, each one laced with rust.

Drool coated your neck in a cool sheen, soothing the marks made beneath it, while his lips and fangs aroused pleasure in the spot that now ached for the sting of his bite.

“Please,” slipped from your mouth while tugging him closer.

His eyes, completely drunk on the pretty prayer, had only a slim rim of color left surrounding the hungering bottomless pits, blown full and black with opium.

No one could come and take you away from him now. Not with his print so pretty on your neck. You were his—just as you were always supposed to be.

♡ BNHA – Deku, Kirishima, Natsuo, Amajiki, Mirio ♡ JJK – Yuji, Yuuta ♡ HQ – Kuro, Miya twins ♡ DS – Tanjiro, Zenitsu

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

3K notes · View notes

fisshbones · 8 months

Text

Things that genshin & honkai star rail men do that are icks.

gn! reader [dr.ratio, gorou, sampo, childe, aventurine] fluff / crack

a/n: aventurine’s was written before his release, but tbh all the characters are probably super ooc, sorry lol. lowkey just slandering them :3

Dr ratio: 📏

You know that “aksually ☝️” meme. Yeah that’s him. “By my calculations the answer should be eightee-“ “Actually ☝️the correct answer is…” Even if you’re just starting your opinion he’ll just tell you that your opinion is wrong. Like fym my opinion is wrong it’s an opinion for a reason???😭

Gorou: 🐕

Barks and growls. Those doggy genes run deep, because he is territorial as hell. While it’s really adorable at times, it’s also kinda cringey. 😕 Sometimes when some guy is talking to you for too long he’ll just randomly start growling 🐺 Don’t mind him he’s just trying to show who’s the true alpha!! /hj -> As for the barking, sometimes when you’re looking particularly pretty/handsome he accidentally barks once or twice. Don’t get mad at him he just gets overly excited sometimes. ☠️

Sampo: 💸

Steals food off your plate without asking first. He waits for you to be distracted so he go in for the kill (he just stole some of your fries🍟 ) If you manage to catch him red handed and accuse him of stealing your food. He’ll try gaslighting you for about two minutes before relenting and apologizing buy paying for your lunch 💀

Childe: 🏹

Holds things above you head so you have to struggle to jump up and grab it. You think you’re safe if your taller than him? Nope try again. He’ll just grab it and climb somewhere high up (the counter or table) with it just to piss you off even more 😑 He think’s you’re cute when you’re reaching for it too. (I want to fight him)

Aventurine: 🎲

Constantly looking at himself + gambling. I’m giving him two idc… When i say gambling I don’t just mean poker i mean he’ll make bets with you over the smallest of things. “I bet you free dinner if Topaz starts yelling at me in the next 3 minutes.” She indeed start giving him hell. 🗣️‼️ Another one i think he’d do is constantly looking at himself. Going shopping? 🛍️ He’s stopping every few blocks to make sure his hair still looks good in the reflection of the window. At dinner? Checking himself out in the spoon’s reflection.🥄 Can you blame the man for always wanting to look his best? No, thought so.

Like and reblogs are appreciated <3

1K notes · View notes

netherfeildren · 8 months

Text

Honey, Stomach, Mine ; 2. More Intelligent Than a Face

Series Masterlist ; Part 1. ; Part 3.

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit 18+

Content Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics; Dystopian Society; Outbreak not Cordyceps AU; Angst & Yearning™️; Slow Burn; Sexual Inexperience; Cock Riding; Size Difference; Size Kink; Sex Ed for Omega’s 101; Power Dynamics; Creampie; Discussions of Heats and Knots and Slick, Oh My!; Virginity; Emotional Hurt/Comfort; Young and Needy Omega; Possessive Behavior; Age Gap

A/N: FYI I do mention that she has small breasts in this one only because I usually write big boobs and thought it was time for some itty bitty titty committee representation.

Word Count: 13.9K

Read on AO3

Tip Jar

2. More Intelligent Than a Face

Existence is a strange thing, a needful thing. Something to be sated, filled, satisfied, this ordeal of being a living, breathing person. And to be an unusual sort of person, someone with needs extra to what the regular sort would require, doubly strange.

You had always thought, in different ways, that the mating program, although a choice thief, a freedom thief, was also benevolent in its control in some ways. After all, it gave those of you who were of the not usual sort, alphas and omegas, that such thing that you needed so badly.

Each other.

A bad, terrible, devastating thing that in turn gives you something necessary, life changing, life fulfilling, even, perhaps.

When your aunt had died and you’d been taken away and then put away and then shut away for what seemed would be forever, it had not, at first, in your child’s mind, seemed so terrible. But with the years, that existence you bore that needed, it began to hurt. It eventually became a very terrible thing that in turn, had taken away your ability to recognize yourself, as well. The reality that you’d been caged because of what you were, perhaps not particularly who, but certainly, what, was, at first, difficult to see. And then, when you did see it, even more difficult to look at.

A thing caged because of what it is. And again, existence is a strange and needful thing. Caged because of what you exist as; caged because of what you need because of what you are. Caged because they can give you what will sate you.

You open your eyes slowly, the bright, waning golden light of dusk shooting over the edge of the end of the world; bleeding pinks and violets feeding the fire. And he’s there, in a deeply set arm chair pulled up by the hearth, staring into the flames, and you realize, like you’d never truly considered before, that the cage was in part also his fault. That in ways, you’d been put away also because of what he is. You wonder if this should make you angry, resentful. If it should mean you should not want to be here, langoring so comfortably in his home that he’d brought you to. This man who you do not know, who does not so much even look like he wants to know you. In ways, your caging is his fault. And certainly, concretely, the prolonging of that caging was entirely of his doing. So why is there no resentment?

Once, one of the other omegas had said that they were brainwashing all of you. Preparing you, ripening you for slaughter. He’d come in later than the rest of you, when he was more grown, more mature, when he’d seen more things in his before life. He had lots of opinions, lots of thoughts, said that your before life, those ten years of living with your aunt, of only being a child like all the rest of them and not an omega, did not count. He said you’d been too young to understand all you’d lost. A boy named Leo. He was kind, but he was angry. And his anger frightened you. It was something you did know, in the sense that you could recognize it, for you’d seen anger before, but you could not understand it. For some reason, maybe you were built wrongly, and Leo was right, and you should have been angry like him, but you could never find it within yourself to muster it. Maybe there was nothing wrong about it. Maybe everyone was simply built and made and felt differently and that was fine too. But you knew that he was wrong on some accounts, particularly, that your before life had counted, that your aunt, who you remembered with so much love, had counted. And most of all, what he was most painfully wrong about, was that you did, and deeply, understand all you had lost.

After all, you could only see the sky for one hour a day, every other day, now, and that one hour made your understanding of everything around you, everything happening to you, keen and painful and humiliating in a very clear way.

The last rays of the sun wash Joel in vibrant orange reds now. A slash of glowing vermillion across his face, something almost violent about the streak of light, something possessive, and you focus your eyes intently on the sight of his face. This man, this alpha, who for all intents and purposes would or could own you as declared by the government or nature or even Leo and all he’d said would happen once you’d been claimed.

But there was one last thing he’d been wrong about, that young, angry boy, and what you felt was the greatest chasm between the way the two of you had existed within your new designations, which was that, at one very recent point in Leo’s memory, he had belonged to someone, to somewhere. He’d had a place and a home and a family, and he had belonged, and you had never had that. Your aunt, despite her love for you, had been too old and tired to want you, truly want you. You had never been wanted in any soft, true way by anyone before. And looking at him now, you don’t think Joel could ever be capable of wanting anything in a soft way, but you do think he could want something in a true way, and you’re certain that could be more than enough for you.

“Why didn’t you come for me?” Your voice, scratchy and small from sleep, floating away from you towards him. He jerks, the twitching returned, head snapping towards you, eyes wide, moving forward in his seat as if he’d spring out of it and towards you without thought. His scent seems to be heightened somehow now. As if your sleep had awakened your senses in new, keener ways. You can feel him tickling the back of your throat, threading his way through your hair, beneath your clothes, between your legs.

“Are you hungry?” He asks, ignoring your question. “When was the last time you ate? You need to eat.” And again that frown, too many fast words.

“Why didn't you come for me?” You press. “They told me you didn’t know if you wanted to come, that you wouldn't answer. I want to know why.”

He sighs a heavy, heaving thing, falling back in the chair, and turns back to the fire, and you want to whine and cry until he puts his attention back on you. You feel so… so– you don’t know. Little, unmade, with a need to be big, to grow and grow and grow so that all the things you feel and want might fit inside of you, so that he might fit inside of you. You feel hungry as if your gums ache and sting with a desire you’ve never tasted before. But also, and despite all of these conflicting, churning things, you also feel so inexplicably at ease. He’s just there, and you are just here, and you’ll make him answer, you know you have it in you to make him do the things you want, and you can’t say how, you don’t know how, but you understand that you do.

There’s power in that – even as you are, all you are not, you can see it – the ability something small possesses to make something big move, do, be. There’s power in that.

You whine low in your throat, and he turns back to you, something dark and tumultuous in his eyes, brow crooked sternly, but he opens his mouth. “I was going to leave you there,” he says, and you immediately wish he’d shut it. Never mind, you want to tell him, you say all the wrong things.

“But why? I was waiting for you.” Whine, whine, whine.

“I didn’t want this. I never have.”

“Me?”

“Yes.”

“You don’t want me?” You ask again, just to be absolutely certain you’re understanding that you’ve once again found yourself in a place where you are not wanted for, or despite of, the thing that you are. The logistics, the intricacies of it don’t seem to matter as much anymore, after everything, the before life, the not life, all that matters now is the yes or no.

But he goes silent again, attention back toward the fire, the sun set, no more glowing vermillion slash, very little hope now too.

He ignores your question again. “Tell me about the place they kept you,” he says instead.

“There’s nothing to tell.” You want to cry now, for the first time, besides the tears of initial happiness when he’d finally walked into your white box, you want to cry. You dig stubby nails into the round of your knee, hard as you can, trying to make it hurt and distract. “It was very calm and very quiet.”

“Did you have friends?” He won’t turn back to look at you, and it makes you feel very lacking. Very much like the nothing they tried to make you feel you were before.

“No. They wouldn’t let us.”

“They wouldn’t let you have friends?”

“No. They said it would agitate us – too much socialization. Really, they just didn’t want us realizing, becoming angry and aware”

This makes him turn, makes you feel, within yourself, the anger you’re telling him of, like oh, now, when I’ve been shocking and honest, you look at me – after I waited all that time for you. There is no resentment about the cage, only for the waiting. You should stick your tongue out at him, make him an ugly face, turn over and go back to sleep and ignore him the way he’d ignore you. But no, you think, let him see that you do understand, and you do know some things, that you are angry, and Leo was right.

“What did you do then?” He asks.

“I read. I learned about myself, about you. About what we are.”

His gaze is so intense now, a ricochet, a scream, something very persistently sad. “And what are we?”

“People just like all the rest of them. But with more necessity.”

“How do you mean?”

You tip your head side to side, bright fire eyed gaze to bright fire eyed gaze. Your cheeks feel molten, sweltering, sweat at your nape, the fire in the hearth so bright, but not as bright as you; your belly glows. This is what you are, this is what you’d been made into. “There is so much necessity in existing, don’t you think?”

He tips his chin, he doesn’t understand.

“We need so many things. We require so much to be alive, to be what we are, to be satisfied and content.”

“Do we?”

“The things we are, yes. I think so.”

“You don’t seem like you spent years in that place,” he says, voice slow, molasses in the notes. There’s something hypnotized slumbering in him that forces something satisfied to swell within you. Your belly glows.

“I had a before life. People forget that.”

“I read in your file — you lived with an aunt.”

You wait for the: only for ten years, but the diminishing does not come. “Yes. She was kind, and I remember all of it, even if the rest of the world forgets it happened.”

“Did they ever mistreat you? At the facility–”

“No. Never. There was nothing.” You’re the one to turn away now. The sun has entirely gone away, a single glowing sliver just at the drop off of the end of the world. You stick your hand out straight ahead of you, fingertip following that line of fading light through air and space and sea.

He watches you unblinkingly, and asks, “What do you mean?” The far off light glows through your skin, through your fingernail; he follows the path of your hand.

You can pretend in your mind that you feel the warmth of it against your fingertip, that it scorches the way it glows, heats the length of your limb, feeds the same glow in your belly, but there’s no more possessive streak of light to wrap around you; now, the heat only lives within you. This is what you are, this is what they said would happen, and now it’s finally happening. You let your arm fall back to your lap, limp, and turn to look at him again. He looks so angry, and you feel so incredibly sad for him. This cold perch, this cage that is not white like your box, but dark and struck right on the edge of peril, this place he chose to exile himself to. They were honest, in the things they'd told you all, the truth of the way alphas exist out in the world. Lonely and ostracized and feared, brainwashed to your reality maybe, sure, the way Leo claimed. But in certain things, they’d been honest, and you’re glad for it, that you have the ability to understand him now from this vantage point. The reality of how he exists, the reason for that look in his eyes, it all makes sense to you.

“I suppose that can be a kind of bad thing… a mistreatment. Making nothing of us, of our lives, taking the whole world away until someone chooses to come and give it back to us.”

He flinches, the look shutters, clicks and flashes, a camera capturing the truth of what the two of you have already done to each other without even really knowing one another at all. “I’m sorry I waited. I’m sorry I took so long.” The words cost him something the way all truths cost something. “That I wasn’t there for you as soon as I should have been.”

“Why weren’t you?” You ask, although you know.

“I couldn’t. I can’t. I’m not– I’m not right. I’m not well.” And this costs him more than the rest, you can see. The thump, thump, beat of his heart in his throat. You should tell him to stop, mercy is power, but you think, feel, that this pound of flesh you’re demanding via his truths is what you’re owed for your life and a year of waiting. And anyways, you’ll pay your own pound of flesh in kind eventually, and it’ll cost, even if it’s freely given, it’ll still cost. Everything is equal here, it’s only that it takes a certain kind of eye to realize the truth of that.

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Everything, what I am, the whole thing of it and this. It’s all wrong.”

“I don’t think so.”

“You don’t know.” And he looks suddenly angry, aged, wearing all his years and all his very obvious loneliness, teeth bared but on the verge of falling out.

“No…” you say slowly, thinking, rationalizing, a rolodex of truths in your mind. What you are, what I am, what we all are and all the honesties that compromise us. “I don’t, but I understand anyway. They make you all nothing, as well, don’t they? They take it all away, all nothing until you have one of us. It’s a terrible way to live.” And you don’t ask him, it’s not a question, only a very obvious thing.

Your words upset him, put him right at the mouth of madness, all those shakes and jitters returned, but you only lay your head back down on the soft pillow he’d tucked beneath you, hands folded undercheek to wait for the explosion that does not come. There’s something in you that wants to see him angry, angry like Leo, like the boy who’d said you didn't have to be what they told you to be, that reminded you that you could choose for yourself. One of the few things you’d agreed on, despite and inspite of the friendship that they would not let you have but that would have blossomed anyways if they’d given you the time. They wanted to make you nothing, but you didn’t want to be nothing. You wanted very much to be alive and to belong.

You realize, watching Joel muzzle his nature before your very eyes, wondering if the truth of him would have him springing up out of the chair to smother you with his weight and temper you with his knot, subdued with his teeth sunken into the gland at the back of your neck, that you want to see him angry. You realize that you want to see him break, that you want to hear that truth no matter what it costs the either of you. You want to see him honest.

He struggles, a dog fight right before your eyes, but when he wins, it changes the game, turns the truth chimeral. Makes you see him in a different way, and all at the same time, makes you aware and even more comfortable than you’d already been. You’re safe here. He is safe. Most importantly, you want to be here.

“Let me show you your room,” he says after a deep breath.

“My room?” A little seedling of dread and sadness and disappointment.

He shows you to a bedroom hued in soft blues. The sea when it is gentle, the sky when it’s joyous. Everything comfortable, nothing white, like he’d known already.

He stands awkwardly at the mouth of the entry, as if scared to step foot into this serene pool of azure and marr it’s peace. You watch him out of the corner of your eye as you move around, no shoes, no socks, slowly running your fingers over all the soft surfaces, sweaty little toes sunken into the deep pile of the rug underfoot.

“I wanted you to have somewhere to adjust– where you’d have privacy. I’m sure this– that I– that it’s all a shock…” he stutters.

One of his boots inches forward, snaps back, like he wants to follow, like he needs to follow, like nature is right here in the room with the two of you, but he wins that dog fight again, holds back. Frustrating.

“I’m not shocked. But I– I won’t stay with you?”

“No,” he says with a finality that makes that seedling bloom in full. “I also got you clothes. And– and soft things. I know your sort–”

You give a soft huff of air through your nose, my sort… our sort.

“Like things like that. And I also… I also put some of my own things in the drawers,” he nods towards a dark mahogany dresser shoved up against the wall; shy and boyish and hesitant all wrapped into a package that would seem to be none of those things. “They say that helps.”

“Okay… thank you.”

“Went into town to get it,” he says of the robin's eggshell blue duvet, a more dove gray blue wash for the silk soft sheets beneath. It’s all beautiful and delicate and lace trimmed and looking at him, huge and rough and something like a lonely mountain, you can’t believe he’d chosen this for you. “Lady at the store said you’d like it when I picked it out.” And that makes satisfaction smother the seedling, yes, he’d chosen it for you. A good sign.

“You went into town to get me things?”

“I told you I want you to be comfortable while you’re here.” Something about the sentence tickles your mind, but then you’re lowering yourself onto the cloud soft bed, cool silk and cotton beneath your skin, sliding against his clothes, your belly glows bright. You’re full of distractions and truth. “There’re a couple of young women that live down aways.” Young women? You perk up at the thought. Friends? “Ellie and Dina. Two young alphas, and they’re good people. I’ll take you down to meet them soon, when you’re ready.”

“Two alphas?”

“They’re a couple.”

“Like– like in love?”

He hovers at the edge of the rug with that strange look in his eyes again, the one from before – I’m only an omega, you don’t have to be afraid of me – and a palpable desperation to cross the border you don’t think he’s even aware he’s letting you in on, but that you can see nonetheless. Two fingers tucked into the line of his belt, twisted there as if grasping for restraint.

“Yeah, they’re together.”

“I didn’t know alphas could do that… that they’d let you.”

“Reckon it’s why they came all the way out here, to be honest, for freedom. But ‘course they can – be together, that is. We can do what we please, despite what they’d have us believe.” And Leo’s words ring in your mind again. Perhaps everyone sees the truth of what you are except for you. The seedling grows vines, suffocates. All the hope you’d thought would live here seems to have never even existed at all. You feel, for the first time, heavy with all the things you do not know, all the things you lack, all the inexperience and naivety like ignorance thick and cloying in your blood. “From what I understand, Dina presented late, after they’d already gotten together. And by that time it was a done deal, they were in love, no going back. And anyway, they make it work, make it look easy as nothin’, to be frank.” He runs a big hand over the back of his skull, and the way he lifts his arm has the thick of his bicep bunching, fat ball of muscle just there for your teeth to sink into. You shift restlessly on the bed.

“Easy as nothin’,” you say slowly, trying to imitate the dip and pitch of his drawl. Your fingertip follows the line of stitching in the duvet, petting at the seams holding it together. “Is that how we’ll be too?” And although you mean the words, intend the question, you’re suddenly awash with shy regret for asking, even though you can’t say exactly why. Probably for the look on his face, which goes immediately dark and serious, and even yet, you persist. “Will it be easy for us too?” And you’re sure your voice must sound like you’re begging.

“No. It won’t. It won’t be like that between us. You’ll stay here as long as it takes for you to acclimatize to being out of that place,” that place, he says like a curse, and it makes you angry, “To bein’ out in the world, and then we’ll find somewhere for you. Somewhere that’s safe and comfortable where you’ll be able to make your own life.”

“I don’t– I don’t understand,” you tell him, but it’s a lie. You do understand, you see, and very clearly, that all you’d waited for during your life, the before, the not life, the extra year, it had all been in vain, for nothing. It would not be given to you here.

“What don’t you understand?” And his tone is cruel and spitting, making you flinch. “I’m sending you away soon. This is what I’m saying.”

“But I don’t– No–” You’d waited so long. He’s being so mean, and you tell him so.

“Yes. You need to be with people your own age. You need to see the world and grow up,” and what a horrible thing to say, you think – to grow up. As if it were not a thing you’d been forced to do already all on your own, without anyone to help you.

“Well then what do you care about what I need? You make no sense!” And you bare your teeth at him. “If you don’t want me–”

But he cuts you off, broad palm held up in a staying gesture, and it’s so incongruous with all the rest of it, that you want to laugh in his face. “Didn’t say I don’t want’cha.” And that frown again, he makes no sense, the tip of his boot makes landfall in the high piled rug, halfway in, hypnotized and compelled in full. You settle on the bed and feel very calm despite the too fast beat of the thing that moves and lives within you, despite your anger and confusion.

And through the beat and the heat and the sweat on your neck, despite the shyness you’ve forgotten is shyness right at this moment, but that you’re sure will return later because this is what you are and this is what you were made for: him. You ask, “Then are you going to knot me now?” Because if he’s going to send you away, then surely he’ll give you that before you go, surely he’ll still want that from you.

He splutters, going all red in the face as if the notion of a young omega asking the experienced alpha she’s been presented with to do that most basic thing his nature demands, is something out of the ordinary. “What? No– no.” But despite his supposed refusal, he takes two steps forward towards you. Venturing further onto the soft piled rug, leaving large crushing footprints in his wake.

“Later then?” You ask very pragmatically.

“No. Absolutely not. There will be no knotting.”

You shake your head at him, small frown between your brows, but still feeling calm despite the tragedy. Forcing that horrible seedling down into submission, the vines smothering all your hope. “But what do you mean?” And you feel like a child.

“I’m not going to fuck you. We aren’t doin’ any of that. You’re too– you’re too young, practically a girl.” A child. He has an accent that thickens with agitation, the ends of his words sluicing off between his tongue and teeth and anger while he hurts you.

“You don’t want me,” you say, and it isn’t a question anymore, only an obvious thing.

His eyes go very dark, and you want to turn away, look back at the edge of the world and the bright glow of the sun being swallowed by it. “I don’t want that.” And the way he spits the words hurts, making you a thing impossible to desire.

“You don’t want me,” again, repeated, so the both of you can bask in the truth of it.

But it snaps something in the room, or in him, or amidst the honesty being brought out here and now. He takes two ground-eating steps forward to loom over you aggressively, forcing you to fall back on your elbows, looking up at him wide eyed but still inexplicably not afraid, only a greater thing than what can be called merely disappointed. And yet, not disappointed enough to not notice the way one of his knees presses against the inside of one of yours. “I should get to have a fucking choice too, shouldn’t I? Like you, locked away in that horrible place–”

“It wasn’t horrible,” you try and say, but you don’t think he hears.

“The way you had all your choices and freedoms stripped. Shouldn’t I also be allowed to have one single goddamn thing?” Where else would I have gone if not there? “A choice – to say, no, stop, I don’t want this.” He’s so angry, and it is all suddenly so clear, and he finally grabs you, pulling you up by the bend of your elbow, the small joint almost crushed in his massive fist to pull you halfway up off the bed and towards him, getting in your face with all his anger.

Leo’s voice again, you don’t have to be what they tell you to be, you can choose for yourself. This is what Joel wants too.

“You can’t end up stuck out here at the end of the world with some washed up old alpha who can’t give you a quarter of what you need and deserve. I won’t let you. I won’t,” he snarls.

But despite your greenness, your naivety or your ignorance or your youth, you think: how dare he? “And what about what I want? What about my choices? Or are you going to be just like all the rest of them? Like the whole world telling me I’m too insignificant and too stupid to decide for myself? Just locked away in another cage–” You spit at him, trying to claw and shove at him, stubby nails digging at the sun pebbled skin of his throat, yanking at his too long hair and patchy beard, inadvertently pulling yourself closer to him. He grunts, struggling to take you in hand, slippery thing you can make yourself into when you really want, and you, trying your mightiest to hurt him any way you can as he’s already decided he’s going to hurt you with his rejection. “Is that what you are? Just like all the rest of them?” You cry amidst your struggle, choked with tears and being too little to be effective but too big for your own skin.

You shove at his jaw, trying to scratch at his cheek, but he grips you full around either arm, locking you in place and gives you a swift but measured jerk, jostling you into submission, trapping your hands bent as they are up by his neck so that one small palm is sliding to the back of his nape, over the gland behind his ear, at that soft vulnerable hollow, and coming to rest at the one in back, at the base of his neck beneath his collar. Both of you go still as stone, frozen by the truth of what you both are and how inescapable it all is, reality held in the palm of your hand.

Obvious: a designation is not a thing you can ever hide. Alphas and omegas wear it on their bodies like markers. Glands scattered at different places: behind the ears, at the base of the neck, inside the wrists and ankles; vulnerabilities that when acknowledged, bitten, seal a mating bond. Places that if handled properly, turn you into nothing but what you are at your basest nature. And you can’t help yourself – at the feel the spongy patch of skin, slightly raised and slightly rougher than the rest of him, a place that when in rut or in heat, would become, will become, extra sensitive, extra swollen, extra ripe – when you slowly slide your fingers against it, feeling the texture of it, the way it’s even hotter than the already sweltering rest of him.

He growls low and rumbling in his chest, that sound again, and he’s so angry, it’s painted all over his face in shades of defiance; coming off of him like radiation, angry at you, angry at the truth of what you both are, angry at himself and the world and all of it, but he pulls you closer anyways, tugging your forward by his grip on your arms which is starting to mimic the ache you’re suffering at that place between your legs you long to show him, pulling you in so that the tips of your breasts, covered beneath his thick sweater and the too thin, soft bra they gave all the omegas who needed them, brush against the thick of his chest, pulling a soft breath of a moan from your tongue.

“You’re being so mean to me,” you whisper. “And I don’t deserve it. And I waited so long for you and you never came for me, and now this is how you’re treating me,” you say with a hiccup and a tear, and you feel little and big and that place that calls for him pulses and hurts and leaks. He’s so mean and you’re so sad and you want him and you can’t understand why he’s being this way when you were made for him and he for you, and if nothing else was right in this world, then this was the thing that was supposed to be.

His eyes shift quickly back and forth between both of yours, that frown, mouth turned down, his mustache that connects to the patchiness of his beard showing how contrary he finds you. You frown back at him, trying to pull away, whining when he tightens, pulls you closer, right up to his face as if he needs to inspect you even more closely. Your toes aren’t touching the rug anymore, scraping against the thick round of his boots, and you won’t have it. You’ll give him a piece of your mind, you’ll show him. “You think that because I’m little and young and easily bruised that I’m not in control.” It’s not a question. If you could grow fangs, you would. If you could rip him to shreds, you would. “That I can’t control you. But I made you come for me, didn’t I?” Now you laugh at him, now you show him. “I knew if I wrote to you, you’d come, and you did. I made you come. I made you.” And saying it feels like victory, so you don’t care that it makes his face crack, you don’t care that he pushes away from you, letting you fall back onto the bed with a limp bounce, storming out of the room, the door slamming shut behind him. You don’t give a thistle for choices. You want to be selfish, you want to be alive, you want to see the sky. You have the sea now, and you want to be this thing you are because this is already you, this is what you were made into, and you have no choice but to bask in it, and you won’t bend to him or give it up for him only because he can’t accept the same of himself, only because he’s still trapped in his own white box.

He knows, as soon as you make whatever stupid decision it is that you’re making, that something’s off. A shift in the air in the house, his heart beating funny, his scent changing because his body knows you’re not in its immediate vicinity anymore, something that tells him off, off, off, be vigilant, she needs you so much, you can’t fail again. He reminds himself of all the decisions he’s already made, of what he knows he wants and does not want, of what he is and what he is not.

After he’d stormed out of your room – I made you – he’d retreated to hide in his own bedroom, to the other big chair by the fireplace in here, cowering like a dog with its tail tucked between its legs, forcing himself to listen to you cry for hours, the whine and whimper of an omega in need of something he was made to give, and yet will not. As if a little thing like you could make him do anything. Him. He grits his teeth, chews on his own tongue, digs his fingers into the arms of the chair to force himself to remain seated in place, to not return to you, to not give you all the things he knows you need and want to be soothed by.

He can smell your scent changing already, reacting to him, reducing him to nothing, entirely effective in your conquering. And he’d stupidly thought that perhaps the heat, and the rut that it would yield, would wait, give him a moment of reprieve or compassion before it came for him. A moment to think. He thought he’d have more time, a chance to escape the thing he so desperately wants but cannot and will not let himself have, refuses to give in to. His body stirs and smolders, and like he’d done for eleven years and then one, he ignores it. He ignores the truth of who and what he really is.

He sits in his chair, head propped up against the back, and listens to your cries and mewls ebb and quiet until finally, he thinks you might have sobbed yourself to sleep. He doesn’t want to hurt you, he doesn’t mean to hurt you. It’s the absolute last thing he could ever, ever want. Everything, not only in his nature, but in his character, in the things that make him up as a man who’d want a woman like you, is clamoring within him to go to you, to give you what you want, to sooth you with his voice and his scent and his cock. To fuck you into your heat until you’re soft and slick and fevered enough to take his knot, to let him breed you, to let him mate you. His cock stirs and thickens beneath the rough confines of his jeans, that thicket of skin at the base where his knot waits in ready for you, simmering with heat and tightness. He digs his knuckles into his temple until it hurts.

You don’t want me… Of course he fucking wants you. He’d have taken your cunt for himself right there in that white box room, on your rickety little iron cot for all the surrounding omegas and witless betas to hear without giving a single shit what anyone said or thought if he had any sort of right or will or choice. If he had anything more to give you. And then watching you go right to sleep when he’d brought you into his home, the sight of you feeling so immediately safe and content, ready to nest amongst his things and his scent – that feeling of having within himself the things that he needs to be what he is – indescribable.

Pretty little omega – and truly, you’re so pretty. All he’d never let himself imagine or desire or hope for. He’s too old, past his prime and forgotten by the world, but he’s still a man with a working cock, still an alpha, even if only in the simplest of ways. Of course he wants you.

He lets himself languish miserably before the fire, eyes going hazy with exhaustion, the comedown of adrenaline, the presence of warm omega all around him, the taste of your pre-heat scent coating his tongue and throat. He pulls his socks off and lets the heat of the fire warm his feet and thinks he should’ve given you his room instead, let you sleep in his bed, near the fireplace, between his sheets and amongst his scent. He can sleep out in the dirt for all he matters as long as you’re comfortable. And the rational part of his brain wants to laugh at the thought, sitting here alone, realizing that despite his battling, his nature will always win out in the end, that all this fight really means shit. His cock gives a faint throb, his deflated knot rhythmically pulsing in time with his heart, ready to swell and claim what everyone including nature, but excluding Joel, has said belongs to him. Of course he wants you. And if he’s honest, or a fucking liar, he can’t really say which, all his truths and deceptions have become so muddled within his own mind, his past and his present and this future he’s never thought he wanted or had a right to, the year of waiting was more a form of self punishment, restraint as proof of fear, than anything to do with you.

Anger, yes, that everything had been decided for him for so long. That he isn’t even allowed to decide what he is, what he wants. But fear, more than anything, that interminable curse of failure he’s so haunted by and so afraid of. How could nature ever look at him and think him strong enough to take on the role of caretaker, protector, alpha – whatever it is that you need him to be, the whole world in the eye of a young and untried omega – when he can hardly stand the sight of his own face in the mirror? There’s nothing but tragedy setting the stage the two of you stand posed on.

Finally, your cries fade to soft hiccups, and then a peculiar silence he doesn't trust. He waits, ears peeled, his head turned slightly towards the cracked open door of his bedroom, sensing the shift in scent and after a few beats of too loud silence, a thud and a huff, the music of a little mind thinking too loudly and mischievously for its own good. Even the wind seems to blow differently as if it knows you’re scampering about amidst it now, vulnerable to its lashings, and he’s shooting up out of his chair and charging through the house. By the door, he realizes his boots are gone, stolen from where he’d dropped them discarded after he’d left you in your room to cry your salt tears. He forgoes a coat and his flannel, braving the icy wind in nothing but his white undershirt, stepping silent but no less frantic out onto the deck. The truck is dark and quiet, still in its usual spot, and this quells his fear minutely. It occurs to him that you likely don’t even know how to drive.

But when he comes around the western facing corner of the house, it’s worse than he could’ve imagined, and the scar slashed across his right temple suddenly zings like copper, burns like fire at the sight of you. You are, for some inexplicable reason, crawling on all fours, towards the edge of the cliffside. And he’s frozen solid for a second, shocked and terrified, and then moving forward like lightning, tripping over his own two feet and breath before he realizes you’re right at the very edge now, and he needs to move very fucking carefully to ensure he doesnt send you spilling in fright over the edge.

He alters his movements, continues forward slowly, his bare feet over the freezing ground and sharp bric-a-brac of the forest floor, the slabs of stone turning to ice as he nears the edge, and he watches the uncoordinated wallop of your movements, banging your knee with a small yelp, as you crawl like a slow and drunken spider in his too big clothes, dragging his too big boots around your ankles, to the very edge of the cliff side, slowly lowering yourself to plop down with your head and arms hanging over the edge.

He pauses about ten feet away from you and waits for your next move, but you lie still, quarter part of you draped over the edge of the cliff, and he realizes that you’re watching the water far below crash against the rocks.

“Sweetheart,” he calls slow and gentle, crouching down low so that his voice travels along the ground where you lay. “Sweetheart, what’re you doin’?” You start, turning back towards him, one palm coming to the edge of the rock to shove yourself up to peer back at him, rock pebble spraying out over the void with your movement, and his heart and stomach lurch to his throat, almost gagging at the terror. Your eyes are hazy and bright, and he recognizes the beginnings of the fever, it’s tendrils wrapping themselves around you, making you a little confused, a lot needy, and he’s so fucking stupid, he should’ve never left you alone. But he hadn’t thought it’d come on this fast, that you’d affect each other so.

“I wanna go down there,” you call over the small hill of your shoulder, turning back to peer down at the beach. You point down at the shoreline with your other hand, wagging your finger as to emphasize what it is you want.

Jesus fucking Christ, he’s going to have a goddamn heart attack. “Alright, baby. Come back here, I’ll take you down. Let’s go together.” You mumble something, arm flopping out, waving him away. “Please, sweetheart, come back here with me,” he begs, and there must be something in his tone, he’s sure, because you turn full back at that, looking at him suspiciously like you remember his earlier words of rejection and no longer trust him now.

“I’m glowing, sir. I need to feel the sea and the cold.” Your voice sounds not your own, like it comes surfing off the wind to his ears.

“Not, sir. Joel. Only Joel, remember?”

You push yourself up, moving to sit back on your knees, but still right at the edge, still too close. Sweat slides slick and frigid down his spine, the complete opposite of what you must be feeling right now. Only Joel. Only Joel, he hears you mutter at the sea. “There isn’t anything only about you. Leave me alone. Go away–”

“Please, baby. Come back here. Let’s go inside, I’ll give you the sea, I promise. Just come over here – with me.” You turn back at that, shifting on your knees to face him. If you lose your balance, stumble, you’ll topple back over the edge. He just needs to be good enough for you to want to come to him, convincing enough. He puts his palm out towards you, all supplication now. “Come here, sweet thing. I’ll show you the sea, I promise I will.” You start your slow spider crawl back towards him and his scar burns, a sharp pain through his brain, piercing behind his eye, heart beat to death between his ribs. As soon as he gets his hands on you, he’s going to fucking throttle you, he promises. But he’s almost got you, and he dares not move, barely even breathes, his hand is shaking so badly it interrupts his view of you on every other painful heartbeat, and he realizes his eyes are blurry with terrified tears, and suddenly, that anger doesn’t matter even half an ounce as much anymore because then you’re here and crawling into his arms, up into his lap so that he’s falling back onto his ass on the cold, hard ground. He pulls you into himself, clumsy little spider legs wrapping around his waist, your arms going around his neck so that you’re clinging to him.

One of his boots lies lost and discarded back by the edge of the cliff.

“Please, don’t ever fucking do that to me again.”

“I’m glowing,” you sigh into his neck.

“I know you are, baby. It’s okay, we’ll fix it.” He feels you nuzzle at his collarbone, his neck, the gland, already sensitive and swollen behind his ear, already, already, already, God help me, and his heart feels like it’s beating so hard he can feel it move through your chest cavity and reverberate against his hand on your back. Christ, it wasn't supposed to happen this quickly, it wasn’t supposed to be like this. He was supposed to have more time, more choices, more control. The wet of your lips mouthing at his skin, and then the peek of your tongue tasting his gland, and he rumbles deep in his chest, his mind going loose and slacken like an old rubber band, and then snapping back to clarity at your surroundings. Cold wind and now the beginning sprinkling of needle freezing rain, your shivers jittering into his chest.

“We gotta go inside – let’s get up,” he murmurs into your ear, unable to resist nosing at your hair, the small, freezing cold seashell hidden within.

Wait, wait– and then the scrape of small, blunt edged teeth just there at the vulnerable patch of skin. He swallows a scream, and the caged thing rattles and howls inside his chest, his arms going iron and binding around your back, pressing you to him, chest melded to chest. “Wait, please,” again, and now a tiny kiss. “If you don’t want me,” and he never should’ve even insinuated it, it’s the worst thing he’s ever done in his entire miserable fucking life. “Then will you please–” another soft press of lips to his jaw, the corner of his mouth. His hand slides down your spine, he can’t help himself, presses down on the base of your vertebrae, the heat of your cunt along the pulse of his cock, through cotton and denim and cold, just there, just there, he’s so fucking close. “Will you at least kiss me–” but you’re not waiting for another rejection, you’re just licking clean across the slash of his mouth, taking his bottom lip between both of yours for a shy little suck, unsure and inexperienced with desperation. And then there’s nothing caged about any of it, no more white box, no more perch at the end of the world, he squeezes you to himself so that it hurts, and he kisses you.

Hand twisted too tightly in your dampening hair, he pulls your head back, and with a rumbling grunt sends you deep and languid into easy submission, the steady deep timber of the sound wringing the desired effect on you. You twitch once, as if he’d tugged on your strings, his pretty puppet, and then go soft and open and easily penetrated, jaw hinging open so that he can lick inside of you, tasting all you have to offer which he refuses to accept he’s actually taking and which you’re all too desperately eager to give.

He takes it all regardless.

Slick mouth against slick mouth, out there in the cold rain and wind, rolling around in the dirt, he tastes you the way the two of you were made for. Pulling your hips closer, rolling his up to meet all the heat you have to offer which will only get hotter and hotter the more he continues down this path. You claw at his hair, the gland at your wrist rubbing against the one at his ear, marking him with your scent and pheromones, marking him as yours. And he swears he can almost feel that glow in your belly too, a little wriggling comet in his hands, set to burst. The crescendo of your whining climbs higher, your mouth hungrier, and Joel feels insane for a second, entirely outside of himself, lost to his senses. All he is, is what you need him to be, something hard and strong and solid for you to mold yourself around, and it’s so right it’s wrong. Not what he’d planned, not what he’d decided.

He rips his mouth away from yours, panting, forgetting his name and his sense and everything else he is besides a hard cock and a now equally smoldering belly. “Wait– wait,” he begs, burning comet, too willful to tame without teeth, surging in his arms. You rub yourself against his face, your hair sluicing through his, your soft tits against his chest, his neck, bumping his chin while you try to climb him perched in his lap like you are. “Wait, please–” he tries to sooth over your huffing whines, and then a sharp stinging little bite to his jaw line.

No, no.

“Stop. We have to stop, please. This isn't what’s supposed to happen. This isn’t what I want.” And you hear that.

The comet burns out, you go still in his arms, and it feels worse than anything. He wishes he could swallow the words back immediately because then you’re pushing back and away from him. Scrambling out of his lap, escaping his arms as fast as you can.

“You’re horrible! Get away–” He dodges a small, kicking foot – the bootless one. And you’re stumbling to your feet, tripping over the too big shoe wrapped around your too small foot. He pushes to stand, as well, gripping you about the elbow, avoiding a weakly punching little fist now. This is truly getting too ridiculous. The two of you need to come to terms with each other, meet in the middle, forgo the theatrics you seem all too desperate for. He ducks away from another ineffectual punch, grips you by the scruff of the neck, unruly kitten that you are, and pushing you forward, hooks you under his arm, lifting you clear off the ground and rendering you entirely captured, bent in half, a wilted flower over the strong of his forearm.

You squawk indignantly, kicking your feet against the back of his leg as he stomps over to his abandoned boot, slowly filling with rain now, fuck this shit, and trudges through the mud back to the house, ice cold droplets dripping off the tip of his nose. The two of you are well on your way to soaked, but he thinks it might not be such a bad thing, considering the ball of heat radiating from your belly, the one in his own mimicking you. It seems to pool in the palm of his hand, where he’s got you hooked and caught over his arm, honey collection of magma.

Let me go! You’re screeching. “Leave me alone! You don’t even care about me and I hate you and I want to see the water!” More kicking and clawing.

When he finally dumps you back onto your rumpled bed, undignified yelps and pathetic little growls, he’s at his wits end. Taking you firmly in hand, heavy hand back at the nape of your neck, thickly calloused palm scraping against the quickly swelling gland there, other pushing at your hip to drape you over the edge of the bed like a rag doll, he folds himself over you, smothering you with his weight and heat, forcing you into calm. You go shocked frozen, wracked with shivers and then finally, blessedly still and quiet. This was all you needed, for Joel to follow his instincts.

He presses you into the bed with his too heavy weight, thick arms caged around your head, pert little ass tucked up against his pelvis, and he breathes you in, lets you settle.

“You need to behave,” he rumbles, and all you do is sigh bleary eyed and exhausted by your own willfulness. “You’re not to go outside all alone at night like that again, do you understand me? And you are especially, never, ever, to go that close to the cliff edge again.”

“But the sea–” you whine and shift, rubbing your little cunt against his now fully hard cock, perfect position that he’s got you in, presented to him like this. He presses tighter against you, growling deep in his chest to shut you up.

“Promise me.” But you whine, shifting, starting to cry a little, too far gone to the start of the fever he’s done nothing to really sate. There’s still time yet, for your full heat, but these beginning symptoms, they need to be soothed just as well, tempered just as diligently as the full blown heat would be. If for nothing else, than for the sake of the omegas' comfort and happiness. He bends his knees, shoving the thick of his erection up against the apex of your thighs, pressing you further up onto the bed and tighter beneath him, and nosing through the mantle of your hair, he finds the gland at the back of your neck beneath the collar of his sweater and bites down gently. Not breaking skin, only giving you teeth to feel, to be soothed by, that blunt clasp that’ll dull your own sharp edges for now.

He laves his tongue along the scorching patch of skin, the texture different to the rest of you, different, even, to his own glands, like silk, like water, something liquid about the feel of you here beneath his tongue and teeth. You let out a terrible little sound that has the threads of his control snapping, providing cause for concern, and he growls softly, pleased, in response. It’s a sound of submission and acceptance and praise, from the both of you equally, all at the same time. He lets you settle like this, petting at you with his tongue, giving you the scraping edge of his teeth like a threat, every so often. Grinding, because honestly he can’t even fucking help it, against that scorching little cunt he knows would already, even now, be so soft for him. Perhaps, not soft enough yet, not ripe enough yet, to take his knot and everything else he wants to force on it, but soft enough for him to teach you how to take a good fucking.

A virgin, never even had a heat before, and trapped here between his teeth and beneath his cock. It would all be so easy, it would all feel so right.

But that is, Joel thinks, just the thing of it. It would feel right – but would it be right? He can’t yet tell.

You cloud his judgment, seduce his nature into wanting to give you everything and anything you could ever even think to ask for, and he can’t yet tell if it’s just you, that sparkle and that light and that heat like a comet that lives inside of you that he’s coming to suspect is wholly yours, nothing to do with biology or designations or markers that tell of what you should and should not be, that’s got him so desperate to please you. Or if it’s only nature, trying to force him into another choice he’s not made for himself.

You wake slowly, disturbed out of your sleep the way one feels when they’re being spied on by something too large and too scary to look at right in the eye.

You shift in the blue bed, cool and calm now, all that glowing heat from before that’d forced you out into the cold and the wind, hungry to throw yourself through space and time out into the sea, reckless and free, gone away now. All you feel as your eyes blink open slowly, is a shivery, damp cold rattling down the line of your spine. The room around you is dark, the glow of the slumbering fire out in the living room peeking in through the slightly left ajar door of your bedroom.

He’d stayed until you’d gone boneless and calm, trapped beneath his weight and between his thick strong arms, letting you suck on the gland inside his wrist as you’d pleased. And when finally, you’d been just on this side of awake, he’d changed your clothes and slid you beneath the soft sheets and weighted duvet, and sat in the cozy sofa chair by the window until you’d been too exhausted by the embers in your tummy and the tight want between your legs to fight sleep any longer.

The chair sits cold and empty now, and above it, the wide window, the pitch black of the world beyond is bright with unknown terrors, and you huddle into your nest of pillows and blankets, hiding beneath the edge of the duvet.

You’d never had a window in your bunk, had not experienced the night in years and years, and looking at it now, put on display as it is through the clear pane of glass separating you from all of that unknown, you feel suddenly terrified, nothing but little. It feels as if you were to look away from it, it’d reach through the glass and pluck you out of your bed, whisk you far enough away that he’d never be able to find you, come for you again, and also, like if you don’t stop looking, it’ll eventually begin to look back. You wiggle backwards, bum finding the edge of the bed, and then sliding out, feet first, gaze still peeled on the window and the night, walking backwards out of your room and pulling the door shut on your way. At the very last moment, you peek through the sliver of the door edge and frame, nothing but your nose remaining in the blue room, and you swear the night stares back now.

You shut the door with a snick, and turn to rush on tipped toes in search of his room.

He’s sleeping on his back, one thick arm thrown over his head, the other laying across his belly, and you peer over the edge of the bed, hands clasped beneath your chin, watching the up and down of his breathing, the flicker of his eyes beneath his lids. He has long eyelashes and funny whiskers and hair everywhere. Under his arms, and across his chest and his belly, leading down below the sheet covering him, to the thick lump there, that place you don’t know yet, but do understand. He’s hairy, and he’s big, and the aching place you want to show him comes awake in response to all this man you have before you. And although the house is warm, the fires stoked diligently to keep you as toasty as you need, another shiver runs its way down your back. So taking hold of one of his thighs, you hoist yourself up onto his too tall bed, knobby knee stabbing him in the side as you climb on top of him, planting yourself right in the middle of his broad expanse. He gives a rough grunt, shocked awake by the little creature climbing its way all over him, hands shooting out to steady you by the hips as he jerks startled.

“What in the Sam Hell–” You ignore his spluttering, rubbing your bottom against his stomach, finding a comfortable position to drape yourself over him, wilting like a felled weed snuggled up against his chest, tucked just below his chin, giving an entirely contented sigh when you settle. “What the fuck’re you doin’?” He has such a nasty mouth. Someone should wash it with soap for him.

He tries to roll over, but you cling, bearing your sharp little teeth to latch at his collarbone, holding tight, refusing to be shoved away again. “M’cold–” you fuss, chewing and slobbering all over him as you pull yourself closer, hitching a knee over his hip, burrowing your foot between the bed and his back.

“You have t’go back to your bed. You can’t sleep here.”

You whine, chewing harder, and he grumbles, but his hands slide from your hips to your back in a soothing pass and you slick your tongue against the flavors of his skin. He tastes so good, and he smells so good, and in a tiny voice you know will get you what you want, you say, “The window is too big and it’s so dark. I’m scared, alpha.”

He groans, grip going tight and strangling around you, fists bunching in the oversized clothes he’d swaddled you in after he’d dried the rain and outdoor chill off of you before putting you to bed. “Can’t I just stay here? I promise I’ll be good like you told me to,” and you nuzzle against him, making sure to thoroughly cover him in the headiness of your scent. Everything is so warm and right, and he’s so thick and comfortable and strong everywhere, perfect for laying on top of like this. The hair on his chest is prickly, tickling your face where you rub yourself against it, and he rumbles low, a deep sort of purring sound that you feel vibrate in your tummy, big wolfish man that he is, but his grip goes loose and soft after a while, stroking and soothing and petting along your slopes and planes. Convinced. Ha.

You hold very still, breathe very slow, make sure not to spook the beast while he accepts the fact of you here atop him until he finally says, already sleepy and relaxed again, “Alright… but you’ll behave like I said.” And eventually he rolls the two of you over, little omega barnacle that you’ve turned yourself into, and tucks you into his warm side.

The third time you wake to him, there’s fire everywhere. And an ache in your womb so sharp it sends shivers through your whole body. You cling and grind and tremble; forget your name, where you are, nothing more than that sticky throb in that place that you want to give to him so, so badly.

He’s draped atop you, heavy arm caging you in, thick chest covering your back, smothering you between incredible strength and, soft, Joel smelling sheets. You cup the ball of his bicep, it’s big and hard and hot, and drag your palm along the thick slope. He’s so strong, he could crush you, hurt you, make you into anything he wanted, and you want all those things, you think. You want him to do whatever he wants if only he’ll make the ache go away. Fire and glowing bright heat everywhere, most of all your belly, your heart, somewhere so deep inside you’d never known it existed until he’d come and made you aware of it.

Your fingers slide along his wide forearm, hairy here too, thick wrist, hard, strong bone beneath, and then the soft spot on the inside that belongs to you now. You stick your tongue out, tasting the spongy patch, scraping your teeth along it. If you bite him, you’ll be able to keep him forever, he won’t be able to send you away, but there still remains – even if just for a little bit longer, before the heat you’ve been waiting your whole life and a year for to finally take you – a part of you that’s still rational, head only halfway gone to the clouds. That part which reminds you that more than anything, you want him to choose you. Without the bite as a deal breaker, bond sealer, only because he wants you, only because he likes you.

But you can taste him, it doesn’t mean you have to bite him, and you the tip of run your tongue along the inside of his wrist, gently suckling at his gland, the flavor of him so much stronger here, as if his essence is more concentrated at this small place. And the ache between your legs, in your tummy, deepens, spreads and blooms and ravages. The inside of you feels sensitive and swollen and big and little all at once, and you shift your bottom, trying to rub yourself back up against him, your sucking mouth pulling sharper, a whine bubbling in your throat because you need something, something more, and you think you know, and you know you understand, but you’re not sure, and if he could just wake up and show you it would all be so much better.

You press back harder, arching so that the aching place feels the heat of him behind you, that hard ridge there that makes your heart pound all through your body. You’d shucked off your leggings and the sweater he’d put you in through the night, too hot and sweaty with the big beast smothering you as he’d been, so now you’re left in nothing but one of his too big t-shirts and the soft, cotton white panties all the omegas always wore. You whine again, gnawing on his wrist for real now, and a big paw of a hand comes up to wrap around your hip, stilling your wriggling. You feel him lean closer, burying his face in the back of your hair, groaning, hot bullish breath fanning across your nape. He rumbles deep and it only makes you feel worse, more desperate, more hungry for that thing you don’t know how to ask for. You want to cry his name, beg him, but your tongue feels fat and swollen inside your mouth, too full of blazing heat to form actual words. He just has to know, he just has to be able to tell.

“I know,” he mumbles against your nape, nosing around to your ear where he presses his mouth. “I know, it’s alright.” You gurgle again, pulling his wide palm to cover your face completely, nuzzling against his rough palm, muffling your pathetic animal sounds of supplication. It’s okay, it’s okay, you can hear him murmuring and you’re not sure who the words are for, but you feel certain they’re not for you. He’s scared, you know this. Between all the things you’re so uncertain of, this you’re sure of. He’s afraid, and it’s your job to reassure him, to show him how well it will all be once the two of you come together.

You push your face harder into his palm, and you feel him hook his fingers into the elastic of your panties, tugging the soft fabric wide, tugging them down your legs, and there’s that same need, yes, that comet bright glowing heat, but also, and something you can recognize as more your usual self, a desperate sort of shyness. Something coming unraveled and unspooled for the whole world, him, to see. You can feel the slick uncoveredness at the apex of your thighs, running down your legs, a blossom of heat and vulnerability there at that place, the core of you, and it doesn’t feel shameful, necessarily, but painfully exposed. Your softest place bared for him to see. And yet, alongside that, the knowledge that this soft place is only for him, that you only ever want it to be for him, and so this can, again, be nothing but right.

“Look at all this slick you’ve made for me, what a sweet girl you are.” There’s such reassurance in the timber of his voice, it makes the heat change, something swirling but steady, constant. You spread your own palm against the back of his hand covering your face, line your fingers along the backs of his, little and big, matched alongside each other, and you press his fingers against your forehead, squishing your nose against his palm, Hiding there in the cup of his hand from the whole world and him, waiting for this truth of yourself to finally be revealed to you.

His palm strokes along your bare thigh, I know, I know, he keeps saying, and they’d told you all that your alphas would know, that they’d show you, and there’s reassurance in this, that some part of what’s happening is unfolding as they said it would. It makes you feel not so small, not so untried and naive. You try and lay as still as possible, willing the flames into patience, breathing in your own hot breath from the cup of his palm. I know it hurts, we’ll make it better, I promise. He shifts behind you, the rustling of fabric, and then his hand on your bottom again, moving in a slow circular motion, steady and reassuring. He moves to your leg again, lifts it and then something hot and hard and big, coming to rest on your inner thigh, and he lets your leg down, starts the soothing rub of your bottom again.

“We’re gonna go so slow, alright. Only a little at a time and not the whole thing today. We gotta wait for your heat to settle in all the way, time it all right so that my rut doesn’t start before you’re ready to take me. How does that sound, sweetheart?” But your tongue is still fat, your words still jumbled and missing, and all you really want to ask is if he’s changed his mind now, if he’s finally decided he wants you, and you think you’re crying, sipping salt water from the palm of his hand. “I know I wasn’t how you needed me yesterday, and I’m sorry for that.” He presses his forehead against the back of your shoulder, hand sliding up your hip to your waist, dragging his shirt along as he goes, uncovering you for himself. And you feel so intensely, that you belong to him, and you can’t understand how he could have ever not felt the same way.

You hitch an agonized little sob, muffled by his hand, and he rolls slightly so you’re half draped atop his chest, his palm rubbing soothing circles low on your belly now. And forcing you out of your hiding place, he pulls your face back to look at him, gripped around your jaw. His face is very serene, and this settles you, makes the words he’s saying clearer, more meaningful. “Can you hear me silly thing, or can all you think about is taking a cock right now?” You scrunch your nose at him, you know that word, it’s his hard thing between your legs.

“It’s so heavy, alpha,” you sniffle, feeling the weight of it pressing against you there.

He nods, warm look in his eyes that crease at the edges. “That’s how it’s going to feel inside you, baby.”

“The knot?” A seedling blooms again, this one very different now, full of hope once more. You realize you’ve found your missing words.

He shakes his head, not yet, and drags his palm up the inside of your thigh, squeezing and kneading as he goes, and you want to complain that he moves so slow, that he needs to do something else, you don’t know what, but something. You want to click your teeth at him, bite him again, anything to make him go.

And then: “Drippy little girl,” and he’s finally there and a moan that’s almost a scream because he’s cupping a place that is so unbearably sensitive and raw and full of heat and wet like you’d never known was possible.

Oh, oh, ah, ah, ah. “It’s alright,” he says, rubbing gently back and forth, a slick sound that is loud and embarrassing coming from between your legs. “It’s alright. This’ll help for now. We won’t go inside.” And he grips the heavy thing, his cock, in his own palm that’s all slick from your leaking and presses it against you. He rolls over completely now, shifting higher in the bed so that you’re sitting full on top of him, back to chest, bum to belly, and he spreads your thighs wide with his other hand, pulling your shirt up to bare all your nakedness for him to see. You wonder if he can also see all that burning shyness you’re suddenly so chock full of.

“Look at these pretty little tits,” he murmurs, cupping one small morsel in his palm, squeezing so that you’re arching against him, mouth agape like a fish, trying to find sounds that seem to have suddenly gone missing once again. “That’s right, I know.” He moves to the other one, squeezes and pinches and shakes it so that it jiggles in the cup of his hand. All the while he strokes his cock between your legs, pulling his hips back every so often so that it slides against you, coating it in all that wet slick you’re spilling for him.

You look down at the place where it juts out between your thighs, and it’s so big. Dark and angry looking at the end, thick and covered in veins that make it look even angrier and about to burst. You ask him if it hurts him, and he laughs a little and says it isn’t anything you can’t fix which makes you seven different shades of pleased.

The hand at your breasts moves up to your face again, and he turns your head, searching for your eyes. “We started off badly yesterday, yes? But we’re gonna do better today. I promise.” He slides his hips back again and this time he presses harder against you, his hand flat against the underside of his cock so that the top is slicking all along you. Sensitive little cunt, he says when you tremble and shiver and keen, and that’s when you know that’s what it's called. Your cunt. That place that belongs to him, that you want to give him so badly, that you want him to want so badly but that you barely even know yourself. No more experience than the greedy, frantic digging at the soft, hot flesh beneath your hand in moments when everything had felt too tight and needy to do anything else.

“Gonna break you in so well, baby. Gonna teach you how to come, how to fuck, how to take a knot.” And now the wide head presses against you, against a place that is so, so incredibly sensitive it almost hurts. You suck in a sharp gasp, trying to jerk away from the hurt, but he holds you in place against him, presses again, yeah, I know, yeah I know, like he’s trying to put it inside you, and yes, you think that’s what it is, that’s what you need, even if it might hurt. “You’re gonna get everything you need jus’ from me,” and his words are slurred and dripping slacken from his tongue.

He starts to move faster, you think he’s swallowed the same stone of desperation you did, rough grunts and huffing pants, and “So fucking small, it’ll never fit.” Jesus fucking Christ. And on every slick slide forward that wide angry head of it, his cock, bumps the crest of your sex, catches at your hole. You watch it in shock as it presses in just a little, and it hurts and feels like you’re full of bubbles and everything is sticky and your tummy glows with heat.

“Your little cunt needs this,” he grunts, the head catches, he presses, presses, pulls away, you want to bite and scratch and demand he go all the way, and you’re nothing but a pounding heart and a clenching cunt and you want more, and when he slides again it notches full on at the tiny opening, he pauses, lets it rest there before he presses not even half a centimeter further, only giving you the wide stretch of it, letting your cunt flutter and grip around the very head.

“Look at that–” And he peers over your shoulder to look at what he’s doing to you. “Look at your tiny cunt stretching for me.”

You cry, trying to pull away, trying to shove yourself deeper, to take the whole of it like the greedy thing you are, but he holds you in place and lets you flutter and flutter and cry until something in your womb pulls tight, and with his fingers swirling at the apex of your sex, the little nub that is so sensitive it pulls a warbled, baying moan from your tongue, an ah, ah, ah, he gives you your first orgasm with him. A desperate thing, too much and not enough, and with his other hand he’s squeezing, shoving his fist along the rest of the length of his cock, pressing it hard where you meet, and then he’s feeding you a blazing heat, filling you with it, stirring your insides to flutter and shiver harder. Forcing you to cry and beg for more, “Please, please, please,” more.

“You’re not ready yet.”

And although you’re not entirely certain for what, you promise, “I am, I am, I can take it.” You know he’s supposed to put it all the way inside, that then, the knot will come. And although you’re unsure what it will specifically be like, what will become of you during or after, you know you’re ready to discover it all.

“Not yet.” And he’s grunting it through clenched teeth, his hips churning, spitting tip grinding at your hole, something hot and thick sliding wetly all over and between the two of you. “You’ll do as I say. Your little cunt needs this, needs me to be patient with her.”

He lets the slick weight of himself fall away from you, leaving you feeling stretched and bruised and all shivery on the inside, yet still hungry for more. And he pulls his hands along the slopes of you, leaving trails of sticky wet along your skin. The proof of all you are, invisible but tangible, with a taste and a smell and a feel.

You lay your head back on his shoulder, the heat swirls and simmers for now, and your cunt, your cunt, your cunt, you want to give it to him in full, it throbs and trembles against his slick cock. “I’ve never had a heat before,” you tell him although you know he knows. He probably knows everything there is to know about you, which, admittedly, is not much.

“That's alright.”

“It will come soon, yes?” You peer over your shoulder to look up at him, and he nods down at you, that warm, eye creased look on his face again. You like the sight of it so much.

“Will I go away from myself?”

“No,” he says gentle, “I won’t let you. I’ll keep you here with me. You have nothing to be anxious about.”

He rolls the two of you over, keeping you in the comfort of his embrace, and he’s huge and steaming and naked behind you. His hairy chest, his hairy legs all along the smooth and sensitive curves of you. And his thing, it’s still trapped between your thighs, heavy and sticky with your wet, and still kind of hard but not as much as before. You reach between your legs to touch it, and he jerks and hisses but lets you do as you please. Curious fingertips gently along the thick round end of it, down the long length to find two heavy and hot weights hanging lower.

“Where is the knot?” You ask uncertainly, shy with all the things you don’t know.

“Here,” and he grabs your hand, moving your fingers to the base of it where there’s an area of skin, of a different sort of texture, rougher, thicker, around the circumference of it. You prod gently at it, not understanding. “See, it’ll swell when it’s inside of you, and then we’ll stay connected for a time, and I’ll fill you, and that’ll help your heat. And after a while it’ll go down, until you need it again. Did they explain to you how it’ll happen?” His cock is thick between your thighs again, beneath your exploring fingers. A little harder and bigger than it was before. His body, something like a wonderful miracle you need to know everything there is to know about it.

“Yes, but not– not all the way, I don’t think. They said you’d show me.” You turn back to look at him, searching for confirmation, reassurance, but instead ask: “Why did you change your mind?” And finally, of his own choosing, he grips you by the throat, and presses a small kiss to your mouth. The greatest victory of the day, and it’s only just begun.

“It’s exhausting, not letting yourself have what you need.” Need, not want. He shifts over you, coming up on his elbow and rolling you so that you’re on your back and looking up at him. You bring your fingers up to explore along his face: the hooked nose, soft mouth, heart brandished beard. He sighs that bull sigh, and you giggle as it tickles your throat and cheeks. Need, not want. That stings. “Fighting against what you are constantly– and you reminded me that we still have control in what we are. That there’s still choice in this, decidin’ to be what we are without resenting it. And we need each other, after all.” Need, not want.

“I don’t think you need me.”

“No?”

“No.” The truth that you very much feel like you need him, you keep to yourself. And anyways, he knows. You know he knows.

“M’thinkin’ I didn’t know I did. Or couldn’t say it out loud.” And he mimics your exploring fingers: thumb against the fan of your lashes, up the slope of your cheekbone, prying your mouth open to catch the edge of your bottom teeth and look inside. There’s a warm look in his eyes, like he’s pleased with you, like you’ve done a good job. “Think I’m realizin’ how wrong I was. How I want this all too.”

Want, not need.

He bends his head and kisses your mouth, kisses your breast, shows you how much he wants it.

3. I Was a Child Once, I’m Not Any Longer

Netherfeildren's Masterlist

Updates Blog

#vic fic #HSM fic #Joel Miller #joel miller smut #the last of us #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us AU #pedro pascal characters

849 notes · View notes

reallyromealone · 14 days

Text

Title: god what have we done

Chapter: prologue

Fandom: Encanto

Characters: Encanto cast, unnamed characters

Fic type: angst to romance

Pairings: Bruno x reader

Warnings: male reader, reader insert, omegaverse, darker Bruno, homie is 7 feet tall, Bruno is jaded, kind of an ass, reader just wants to smooch him

Notes:

Summary: Bruno can't shake an Omega who has declared them to be the perfect match

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Bruno raised an eyebrow at the Omega infront of him "you're not here for a reading?" He asked with disbelief dripping from his voice, taking a drag from his cigarette mid sentence with barely a fuck to give the Omega who had a look of determination.

"Don't you want to see the love of your life or some shit?"

"I don't want to know my future"

"Everyone wants to know their future"

"Not me" (name) shrugged and the Alpha scoffed "bullshit, you will eventually and some way it will be my fault"

(Name) Wanted to be annoyed at the alphas attitude but he knew better seeing as people come to see their future and throw tantrums when they don't get what they want, could you blame him? "I came to bring you this" in his hands was a jar... Of ajiaco?

What game was this?

What was the Omega playing at?

Then it clicked...

Well time to nip this at the bud.

Bruno sighed and stood, a towering seven feet tall and having to lean down to look at the other "and why would a little Omega like you want to come all this way to bring me this?" (Name) Was unwavering at the glowing green eyes and slight stubble on the Alphas face "I wish to court you"

Well wasn't he forward?

An Omega asking an alpha out like this, unheard of in this backwater town-- his mom would have had an aneurysm at the concept of an Omega breaking courting traditions but she lost her mind at basically anything so Bruno didn't care much about her thoughts and opinions.

But (name) of all people asking him out like this?

Bruno knew who (name) was, a male Omega was rare, (name) being the only one in town and had countless suitors chasing after him and yet this little thing wanted to court him?

Was he trying to piss his parents off?

He almost chucked at the other but he wasn't going to entertain his delusions.

He was no fool, especially to pretty omegas like (name).

And so the words came easy off his tongue.

"No" Brunos voice cold and clear, taking another drag of his cigarette while standing back up and looking down at him as he was nothing but instead of a teary eyed Omega, he saw determination "I was expecting you to say that, I'll be back tomorrow! Save space for lunch!" And with that the omega wandered off, the Alpha scoffing before putting out his cigarette with a glare.

He felt this omega was going to be a headache.

And (name) was apparently a man of his word.

Everyday like clockwork he harassed the Alpha with delicious treats and meals, annoying him with conversation and frivolous nonsense.

"So what do you do for fun?"

"Smoke"

"I like to read and recently I have taken the hobby paper folding... I found a book about it in the shop"

"I don't care"

"You do anything today?"

"No"

"I just helped with my parents shop, my papa is planning on opening a cafe so people can read and have a nice drink and snack" Bruno didn't know why he let the other go on and on but he did, going through half a pack of cigarettes before (name) was gone for the day, always leaving food and a recent development; a paper creation that be left for him.

There was a collection building in Bruno's den.

He didn't know why he kept them but he did.

These days turned into months and before he knew it.

(Name) Was worming his way into the others life like a parasite.

It was late, (name) and Bruno sat in comfortable silence and the Alpha hadn't realized so much time passed when (name) slumped against his shoulder, sleeping contently and causing the Alpha to freeze unsure what to do.

But his alpha instincts had other plans, gently putting his head on his lap while petting his nape.

God what was he getting into...

Maybe he should see his own future...

Rip the bandaid off...

But Bruno didn't want this... Whatever it was to end, deep down be knew he was beginning to care for the Omega and begrudgingly...

He knew he wanted them to stay.

But he knew better...

He knew that (name) would come to his senses.

It was just a matter of time.

(Name) Stared up secretly while Bruno was lost in thought, not quite asleep yet but he just wanted to admire the other before he succumbed.

The Alpha was so pretty... Slightly scruffy with his curly hair up in a bun with a bit of his bangs framing his face, always wearing that green poncho that (name) had learned was quite soft... And those eyes.

Oh how he could stare at those eyes for hours.

(Name) Closed his eyes once more and cuddled into him....

He wouldn't miss this chance to be close.

And that night was the best sleep (name) and Bruno ever had.

Bruno sighed as he lit a cigarette in an alleyway while everyone celebrates Juiletas wedding, the whole village in attendance as people danced and sang. "I don't think I could convince you to a dance, could I?" (Name) Asked with a slight teasing in his voice and the Alpha glanced at him bored "when the mountains move, I'll dance with you" the Alpha blew smoke in (name)s face, the other coughing slightly with a glare "so why are you hiding from your sisters wedding" (name) leaned against the wall beside him, the Alpha towering comparatively "I have no interest in this shit"

(Name) Hummed and pulled out something wrapped in a cloth from his jacket pocket and unwrapped an Empanada and took a bite before offering some to the Alpha, standing on his toes to get it to the others lips, Bruno raising an eyebrow at this "what are you doing?" His voice bland and slightly confused "I haven't seen you eat yet!" (Name) Huffed and the Alpha rolled his eyes before taking a bite, the food was fucking delicious but he was not about to admit that. "So...?" (Name) Asked hopefully and Bruno leaned down close, lips barely brushing before speaking "I had better" a bold faced lie that Bruno would never admit, seeing the others pout made him chuckle. "So why are you in an alley way with me hm? It's not proper for an Omega to be with an alpha while unmarked"

"It's rather dangerous, Omega" Bruno continued when the other looked confused "left alone with an alpha, anything could happen" it was an attempt to scare the other off but (name) just stared at him with blown out pupils, completely calm "you won't hurt me" (name) said simply and cupped the others face when it got close enough "oh? And how could you be so sure?" Bruno huffed amused, subconsciously leaning into the others touch "because you had countless times where you could have taken advantage of me but you havent"

"Many alphas would have taken any second to take advantage of that but you turned me away at every courting attempt, you don't care about my secondary gender... It's one of the reasons I fell for you" (name) admitted before kissing Bruno's cheek "and I'm in this alleyway with you because you're the only one at this party I want to be beside"

Bruno released the other from his hold, a look of uncertainty in his eyes towards the Omega who looked at him like he hung the moon.

"(Name)? There you are~" a slightly slurred voice called from the alleyway entrance, (name) visibly freezing at the sight of his most persistent suitor while Bruno could smell the faint scent of annoyance from the Omega "oh? And you're with the town's monster? How... Unique" Bruno glared at the other with a venom (name) didn't think was possible. "So Bruno, how is life? Cause more people misfortune? See someone having a miscarriage? Curse an old woman with the death of her husband?" These were things that Bruno had seen prior, things that made the village view him even worse, blaming him for the death of an old man and a baby who didn't have a chance to take their first breath.

"(Name), sweety" the suitor said getting closer and (name) could smell the alcohol on his breath "it would be in your best interest to get away from the likes of him, nothing but tragedy follows Bruno Madrigal" reaching towards (name) to get him away from Bruno but a large hand slapped it away.

Bruno looked murderous "I suggest you go back from which you came, wouldn't want to find out you lose your hair in the future, no?"

The suitors face morphed into one of anxiety and anger but turned away none the less and the two were left alone.

"You can't even do that, can you?" Turning around (name) looked around for the alpha but Bruno was no longer standing there, just (name) and the lingering scent of Bruno.

like that, Bruno was gone.

And (name) was by himself.

(Name) Tried to visit the Alpha the following morning, the Madrigal family watching with saddened expressions when (name) was rejected each and every time "he takes time to open up, give him Patience" Peppa said softly, worried clouds forming over her head while (name) smiled sadly "I know I can be quite forward with the things that my heart desires... I just... When I look at him it's like the world rights itself..." His voice wistful and so loving, it hurt that Bruno kept pushing him away... He knew he should accept that the Alpha didn't want him but he just couldn't step back...

It felt like fate to be with him.

So (name) came by every day and sat infront of the door, chatting to the Alpha about his families book store and even reading from the book he brought and when he had to leave, there was always a basket of treats for the Alpha.... But it seemed the only ones who enjoyed them were the rats.

"At least you enjoy them" (name) whispered to a rat that crawled from the basket, carefully lifting it into his hold "do you know what he's doing up there? If so could you give him this note?" The Omega carefully tied a note to the rat, surprised when the rat seemed to understand what he was conveying before running off.

Bruno's space was destroyed, the Alpha sweating and scratching at himself. He got too close! He got to close to (name), he could have hurt him!

After visit three, Bruno read his future with (name) and...

He saw (name) crying.

Alone and crying, holding a pup... Their pup.

And on his finger was a string...

He knew (name) was his soulmate...

He knew it but he didn't want to hurt (name) the way he would if he pursued the relationship.

But could he change fate? The future was set in stone was it not?

"He came by again...?" He could hear the omegas voice faintly travel through the vast room, his voice calming to his ears but painful for his heart.

This was for the best.

It had to be.

#encanto x reader #Encanto x male reader #bruno x reader #bruno x male reader #bruno Madrigal x reader #omega male reader #omega reader #alpha bruno

179 notes · View notes

escapingrealtiylovinginsanity · 5 months

Text

Jay Halstead (& Platonic! Will Halstead): People You Love

Some stories just write themselves and that is what this one did. I’ve been in a writing mood lately and I have a whole list of ideas I want to go through. This isn’t super Jay x reader-focused.

Warnings: Mentions of PTSD and anti Will/ Natalie content

You took a sip of your drink listening to Will talk to his brother about his latest disagreement with Natalie. You had learned at the beginning of your relationship with Jay and first meeting Will that it was not a topic of conversation that you should chime in on.

Will wanted to be with Nat and there was nothing that could change that to his and her own detriment. You stirred the brightly colored liquid with your straw, listening to the ice cubes click against the glass. It was a sweet drink that Gabby had made for you. You were one of the few who frequented Molly’s that didn’t drink beer and only ordered mixed drinks. You had gotten hell for it from a few of the blue-collar boys, but Gabby had taken that as a challenge. There was always a new drink she had found for you to try.

You tried to hide your wince by taking a drink when Will went through some particularly low blows of the fight. The saying sticks and stones make break my bone never considered how cutting words could be. Especially from the people who were supposed to love you. “You want another babe?” Your eyes flashed between his eyes and your cup which you now found almost empty. You hesitate, but with the way Will is going, you will probably be here for quite a while yet.

“Yeah, just one more,” You agree. You watch him leave the table and make his way over to the crowded bar top. He wouldn’t have to wait if not for your drink, but he never complained. You heard a sigh and the loud click of a bottle being set more forcefully on the table.

“Alright, let's hear it.” You glance up at Will expectantly. You weren’t close but you had acquaintanceship because of Jay. You liked Will but it was hard to form a real friendship with someone when you felt like you had to edit everything you said because they couldn’t handle your honesty. Will had a strong alpha male confidence and ego. He needed someone who could call him to the carpet, but you weren’t willing to risk your relationship with Jay to be that for him. You tilted your head in question to his statement. “I know you want to say something, so let’s hear it.” You shake your head circling your straw in your cup again. The bangles that lined your arms clinked together loudly as they slid down to your wrists. “C’mon,” Will pressed.

“It’s nothing you want to hear.”

“But there is something you want to say.” His gaze held yours and he raised his eyebrows in question. There was a challenging spark in his eyes. He was looking for a fight. “You’ve been with my brother for almost a year and never had an opinion you wanted to share about any of my relationship problems? I doubt that. I’ve been trying and nothing has been working out. So, I’m up for a female viewpoint.”

“What you want is a fight. I like my relationship with Jay, I’m not going to ruin it by fighting with his older brother.” Will sits up a little straighter in his seat.

“Is that so? Well, this one can be on the house. No backlash or fallout. The way I see it-I asked, you answered.” You eye him up and down trying to determine the truth of his words and if he was able to abide by what he just offered. You looked at the bar. Jay was leaning leisurely against the bar top talking to Kelly Severide, Matt Casey, and Gabby. You could tell he was still going to be a minute. You look back at Will and nod.

“You and Natalie are never going to work.” Will blows out a breath and leans back in his seat before scoffing and shaking his head.

“You don’t-” You shake your head at him holding up your hand making all the bangles clank down to the bottom of your forearm, the loud noise effectively covering up his rebuttal.

“Uh-uh, you asked my opinion and now you're going to listen to it.” Will mouth turns into a firm line but he stays silent. “You two are bad for each other. I know you want it to work, to figure it out, for the little rainbows and butterflies to flutter down to fix all your problems. But it’s not going to happen. You two are bad for each other. She is bringing out the worst in you and from what I can tell- from the very limited time I’ve spent with you together- you are doing the same for her.”

“I love her,” You shake your head at the redheaded man in front of you.

“What you're doing to each other isn’t love Will. I know you care about her. Want what’s best for her but that doesn’t make it you. Love is finding each other's soft spots, their weakness. It’s learning and knowing exactly what could destroy them. It’s having all that power and choosing to protect them instead of bringing them to their knees.” You play with a bangle on your wrist twisting it, “I’ve been in a relationship where we picked each other to pieces, and I promise you Will that isn’t what you want.” You feel your eyes mist over with emotion, “It’s hard letting go but when you find someone that goes out of their way to protect you...When you would do anything to protect them...You will know that you’ve made the right decision.”

“I protect Natalie.” You shake your head at Will getting frustrated with his purposeful ignoring of the issues. “We just get heated sometimes, say things we don’t-”

“That’s what I am saying, Will. It seems to happen every other week with you too. Over stupid things that don’t matter.”

“Unlike you and Jay. Because I’m sure you too never fight.” Will shoots back and your frustration rises.

“Jay has PTSD. I’m more worried about protecting his mental health than notching up our day-to-day bickering. He gets in this headspace sometimes and it is irritating and frustrating because I just want him to talk to me. For him to let me help him. But he won’t. I didn’t understand at first. How could I? Then he had a really bad bout of it after a case. He didn’t hear me come in and I startled him. He pulled his gun on me. Pointed it right at my head.”

Will felt his own frustration turn into something churning in his stomach. He knew his brother struggled with PTSD from time to time. He knew that he had nightmares and that there were times when he was constantly on edge- hypervigilant. But Will had never been there to see the full extent of it. “When he realized it was me, I could see it all in his eyes. He was afraid that he could hurt me. That I would be afraid to be around him. If he had any idea how terrified I was, not that he would hurt me but that he would torture himself with it. Nobody can hurt Jay like Jay can. The fallout was awful. He struggled to get past it. I knew that it could never happen again.”

“So, what did you do?”

You looked at your arm and wiggled it. The bangles clank loudly together. “I made it so I can never sneak up on him again. When I went through my Bollywood phase and bought bangles my mom used to complain that the entire neighborhood could hear me when I walked around. I’m sure one highly trained soldier can hear it coming from a mile away.” You look over to meet your gaze with Will again. “Now when I see the signs, I wear them. That is what you do for the people you love.”

A look of understanding and respect is clear in Will’s eyes. You give him a smile and feel the threads of friendship beginning to form on the strong foundation of honesty and shared love of another person. “If you ever tell him that-” Will mimics zipping his lips before taking the last pull of his beer. You two sit in quiet understanding, and you can see Will marinating on your words. Whether they are thoughts about Jay or his relationship with Natalie you were unsure.

Jay returns a few minutes later, setting a vivid blue and green drink in front of you and two bottles of beer for the brothers. You eyed the drink thoughtfully, “Gabby said you had to try it. She called it sweet poison, I think.” You stir it before sipping through the straw. You could taste the rum. Gabby had a habit of being heavy-handed with your drinks. It was good though. You turned to look at Gabby and when she raised her eyebrows in question you gave her an enthusiastic nod. She fist-pumped her accomplishment before turning back to Matt. “That good?”

His strong hand found your thigh under the table, and you smiled at him. You caressed his forearm with one hand while pushing the drink closer to him with the other. “Yeah, try it.” He made a face at you but took a drink from the cup, not the straw. He merely shrugged his shoulders when you asked what he thought. “Yeah, yeah it’s always too sweet for you.” Jay looks over at his brother.

“You okay man?” He questions, Will was being too quiet.

“Yeah,” He runs his fingers through his curls, “I was just thinking... Might be a good time to get away for a while. Maybe do a week trip at Gramp's cabin. Fish and stock up on some more wood for the winter. You want to go?” The offer seems to throw Jay for a second. Between Will’s struggling relationship and Jay being busy with a heavy caseload they hadn’t had much time to spend together. Jay looks over at you and you smile brightly at him squeezing his arm.

“Yeah, I have some time saved up that I need to go through.”

#chicago pd #jay halstead #jay halstead x reader #jay halstead x you #jay halstead imagine #will halstead

287 notes · View notes

absolutebl · 10 months

Text

Pit Babe - it's time for a Trash Watch!

I had to. Well, no I didn't, but COME ON. It's like Thailand is negging me. Let's burn rubber, shall we? Burn rubbers...?

The things I had been told going in about this show:

it's about car racing (this bores me)

it stars Pavel (my BL ult bias, he is my icon for a reason)

it started as an omegaverse y-novel but the A/B/O aspects would be stripped from the BL series

it's high heat

(There some chatter about whether point 3 was a mistranslation of something the author said, but don't bother me with trifles.)

Here's a definition of omegaverse:

Omegaverse, also known as A/B/O (alpha/beta/omega), is a subgenre of speculative erotic fiction, and originally a subgenre of erotic slash fan fiction. Its premise is that a dominance hierarchy exists in humans, which are divided into dominant "alphas", neutral "betas", and submissive "omegas".[1] This hierarchy determines how people interact with one another in romantic, erotic and sexual contexts.[2] (Wikipedia)

In my experience and opinion, omegaverse archetypes and tropes are often used to strip out female characters (and The Feminine) and as a tool to excuse extreme hyper-masculine behaviors without a critical feminist lens (leading to lazy characterization). Just as heat is an excuse to get nkd quickly, A/O/B is often an excuse for taboo and dubious consent actions and behaviors. Do I get why writers/readers enjoy it? Yes I do. Do I personally like it? Not particularly. (Although there are always exceptions.)

Putting all that aside, the above represents my foundational knowledge before Pit Babe started.

Oh and that the familiar BL faces appearing in this show were follows:

Pavel Naret (aka Pavel Phoom) from 2 Moons 2 & Coffee Melody - Pavel is a fluent English speaker, a bit of a drama monger, and a motorcycle rider/car-dude, this role suits him

Nut Supanut from Oxygen & Something in My Room - has an amazing voice, his somewhat wooden acting has improved steadily since Oxygen

Pon Thanapon - one of Star Hunter's stable first seen in the Gen Y series (where he stole the appeal of an intended pair), also v good in Make a Wish, I wish he'd get a lead role as he has a likable screen presence

Pop Pataraphol from La Cuisine - he's playing the Alpha rival and I'm not convinced he's suited to this role

Michael Kiettisak from Love Sick, Oxygen, Call it What You Want, Till the World Ends - playing the comic relief this time rather than his usual tortured stoic... huh

All the rest are either fresh faces or older experienced actors. Interesting mix. They must have some money behind this.

And now, get out your marshmallows! The dumpster is on fire! Let's start the roast.

Episode 1 - Platypus, Pickles, Pavel, & other Smoking Hot Problems

This first segment told with a 4 day retrospect, because I decided to do a trash watch only after @aliceisathome said I should.

My initial reaction:

the sheer audacity of Thailand being like "PitBabe is not omegaverse" and then serving "Alpha" to us on a platter in the first sex scene is

how dare

but also

what the actual fuck is going on? what world are we living in where a/b/o is LIVE ACTION ON OUR SCREENS?

we getting heat, knotting & mpreg next?

apparently this is my reality now

I'm not sure what weird quantum time stream I've jumped into but someone was all,

yes the whole world is hella screwed, but also...

Thailand has decided live action mm fanfic is gonna win it the culture wars

and I'm beginning to think they may be right

BL is now the platypus of the film industry

4 days later:

Considering how much chatter this caused there's a part of me that wondered if it was all intentional and a marketing ploy (to say it wasn't omegaverse when obviously it is). In which case... brilliant Machiavellian tactics, production.

But Thai studios are rarely this calculated in their promo. So I think it's all accidental. But it certainly caused a raucous few days on Tumblr.

On a completely different note, Babe's house looks like it started life as a particularly inventive Olive Garden. Or is that just me?

More random thoughts:

Pavel has had work done, why honey? You were the definition of perfect.

The smell thing is great, I love stuff to do with scent and necks. If omegaverse brings this to the table, fine. But...

Being all Alpha perfect butch manly man = I do not like Babe at all, I kinda want him to be brought down a peg. (Woo... pegging!) I never like narratives that glorify the captain of the football team (side eyes Cdrama CEO romances and Love O2O), Babe better have depth and damage (forget the pegging) of some kind or his behavior will get old FAST, faster than he drives (also, forget the pegging idea)

Nut is ideal in the Beta role. I mean, that's Way's character right? We all can see that. If it's not intentional, it's a miscast. I love how soft he is as as screen presence. He's great in this part.

None of the other characters are sticking out to me yet, but I'm prepared to love the side dishes in this, please make them swoon worthy!

I'm glad they didn't hold the Charlie = trickster reveal off, I like knowing he is a double agent up front.

Finally, with respect to an adequate trash watch, I'm in a pickle.

How am I going to drink for this show when there is so much else airing on Frigay? I can't keep track, if I'm drunk.

I need a strategy for this trash fire if the puns and snark are to spout forth! (HA Fourth!)

Controlled burn?

Anygay, see you all next week.

Episode 2 - Side Dish Addiction + Second Lead Syndrome are both infecting me at once

[FYI I gotta have my backup computer to watch this so that's why Imma sometimes be delayed getting the trash out to the curb.]

3 minutes! 3 minutes in and I needed to pause and wax snarkful. (Ouch, bet that hurts. Is waxing snark similar to a Brazilian but for BL? Is that why they all so hairless in The Sign?... I digress, where was I?)

Okay so the subber said Daddy but I don't think that word means what they think it means. Because Way said simply nong paa.

Usually they'll use the English word Daddy (pronounced Dah-deee) for, ya know, Actual Daddies (tm).

Wait wait:

Calling Daddy Actual

(My dumb sci-fi loving arse will see myself out the back before I start drawing Battlestar Galactica = Pit Babe connections. TOO FAR ABL. Too far.)

Look, I like the tension in this show. It's good to set up an unlikeable Alpha dog and then immediately turn him into an underdog, makes him a bit more likable. I still don't like Babe, but now at least I'm on his side.

Charlie = cute but v sus. Fortunately for him, Babe = cute but v thick.

Everyone calls Charlie Babe's dek. Yes sounds a bit like what you think but also means kid/child and SHOULD be translated as boy in this show. Why doesn't the subber get that? They a sub...ber after all. (I'll see myself out.)

Honestly, the script writers might know what they are doing with abo but our eng sub translator sadly does NOT. I'm so glad this is coming now in my BL watching life. When my ear and knowledge of Thai is so much better than it once was. Others much be SO CONFUSED.

Snicker. They just fucking with us, but it's fun to watch the mpeg speculation abound.

File this one under: Thailand's trouble with ESL plurals and also "you should have Pavel helping with these subs" sweethearts.

Production knows entirely what it's doing with this show and its omegaverse shizz (even if the subber doesn't) and I am very much enjoying the online carnage that results.

This dumpster fire continues off screen into the blogosphere and I continue to roast things over it.

Meanwhile, hi Pon! You so adorable! When you gonna lead out a BL for us?

Is Idol Factory stealing all of Star Hunter's talent? Are they the Red Racers of the BL world? These are the questions I ask myself as I watch this.

Is that AGE GAP I smell before me?

Is the 20 yr old college kid meant for the pit boss? Cause you all know I am a slut for age gaps.

Moment of a/b/o: Jeff's fear of touch/heightened personal space would be a plot marker for "baby doesn't want Alphas close cause he smells like an omega" but of course this show it not omegaverse. Not omegaverse at all.

nuh-uh

Linguistic corner!

Lung (sounds a bit like loo) is uncle(ish) it means basically a male relation older than phi. So Alan is the oldest in the crew.

Alan calls Jeff nu (which the subber translated as boy I would have gone with cutie or little one). Nu is a diminutive affectionate term that's technically gender neutral but is most often used by/on cute girls/women. Jeff did NOT like it. Then Alan sort of dodges through pronouns/particles settling on phi for I, ger for you, and ja for a particle. This is interesting because ger & ja kinda lower his age and status into a casual sphere. Not more intimate more equal to jeff... fascinating.

I love the new "Korean" red racer, he drinks my brand of soy milk. He is now my baby snake in the grass.

Get it? Snake.

He and Babe should end up together.

The fight wasn't bad, do both actors have kickbox training in their backgrounds?

Who am I kidding, I care only about Uncle Alan and Nu Jeff now. All others are irrelevant to me.

Also...

WHERE IS A BOY FOR WAY?!!! Or a Daddy. I do not care. (Methinks nether does he.)

I am now captain of the Way Appreciation Society. Let's all find a way... to get him some dick.

Also the BTS stingers are tons of fun. Looks like the set was a blast.

Finally, and I mean this kindly. Why isn't Noh Phouluang in this? He should have been cast as Winner. Bah. I'm biased.

But one should be with Noh.

Episode 3 - Side Dishes Delux

Gayest bridge n Thailand has made its obligatory appearance.

How much do I love uncle & nu? They are SO damn cute. Also nu flustered is the best kind of nu.

I could not care less about Babe and Charlie. Except I do love the smell thing.

Way will break my heart by getting his broken. He is right tho.

Tra la la. I feel like this is a bit like KP 2.0.

Charlie is a such a princess (and ace manipulator). Good thing Babe clearly likes being buttered up.

Babe's backstory was more interesting than I expected, I didn't think we would go so far into the paranormal side of a/b/o. I like it and I hope they lean into it quite a bit more. Make it part of the plot.

Unlike the kissing thing which seems to have been gotten over rather quickly.

I gotta say I'm enjoying the corporate sponsorship jockeying and tension more than I thought I would. I'm curious as to who Jef and Charlie are working for and what their motivation is. The plot itself is keeping me intrigued and that is rare for me with BL.

So no trash talk this ep, I was largely absorbed and entertained. I didn't event need booze. Shocking behavior on my part.

#giveWayaboy2023

Episode 4 - I (who never ship) am shipping the impossible

Here’s the thing. I just want this to be a better story than it is. Right now it’s kind of like a soap opera. I don’t hate lakorn, I really don't. To Sir With Love is a glorious chewing of the diamanté scenery (completed with death glitter). But...

If this is gonna be a soap opera it needs to lean into the messy side more than the tailored high concept side. Support characters and evil needs more screen time.

Instead, right now, I don’t know where I am with this show because it doesn't know where it wants to be. I’m kind of dangling in the middle of a dirty situation. It’s uncomfortable for me, and the show feels uncomfortable for the performers.

Also... I have questions.

Yes, of course I want to know what Charlie & Jeff are up to. Why can Jeff see the future?

But more importantly I NEED to know why Babe has a flying saucer bed?

That kind of lighting makes nobody look good, especially not at that angle. It’s very traumatic and I’m not wild about the shag rug either. I have concerns about Babe's taste. I guess is what I am saying.

On a COMPLETELY DIFFERENT note:

There’s absolutely no chemistry to justify this, but I have decided that I am going to personally advocate for, and ship, Way and the interloping not-really-Korean. They are both sort of own-moral-code types. I have tiny crush on Kim, and Nut is the prettiest, and Way is Best Boy so there it is, I would like them to hook up, please & thank you.

#giveWay2Kim2023

Arrow guy is cute, too. Will we get to see him bone?

Is he going to be another one of the adopted alpha super-kid pets?

What the hell, throw Arrow Boy a bone! All hot boys in BLs deserve bones.

Plot thickens.

Hah.

Thickens.

(I am an immature idiot.)

Episode 5 - wait wait way-t, can arrow boy have Way?

Look, BLabies, I didn’t get any screen caps this episode because frankly there wasn’t anything worth capturing.

I guess Charlie really does love Babe? Very dramatic if idiotic saving from the burning car. But Babe has gone to the broken Alpha place of extremely unlikeablability (frankly he was almost there at the start). If I were Charles B Spectacled I would be OUT by now.

Is that?

NO.

Don't get the plastic bowl.

No white towel sponge bath. Please kill this trope.

I mean, it's not as bad as singing, but that's because NOTHING is as bad as singing in a Thai BL.

AND the main boys are back together.

I don’t find their relationship or Babe’s lack of senses a particularly interesting aspect of the plot.

Unless, of course, Babe is pregnant and that's why he lost his Alpha sniffer.

BUT I do love the sides.

Jeff = the introvert precog who can’t/wont do people and Alan = the extrovert people person who WANTS but doesn’t understand him.

Were Jeff and Charlie ALSO raised by Evil Daddy MacEvilPants?

I liked the way Arrow CEO & Way looked at each other. Way, hon, give up on Babe (he sucks) and get thyself a billionaire bf with great aim and BDE.

On a completely different note, the best thing about this show is the blooper reel. That thing with the green smoothie going down his pants was hilarious!

In conclusion, this was a green smoothie down the pants episode. I was entertained, and it’s probably gonna be good for the plot in retrospect, but it was kind of squishy and unpleasant at the time.

Episode 6 - Are they actually listening to us now? Is Tumblr bugged?

This was a fun ep full of like actual racing and shizz.

Whatever.

Charlie is on the team now. All the teams, apparently.

Can we talk about Jeff and Alan?

The apology scene! Did you hear that Alan dropped to chan/ger? Eeeee!!! So cute. (He equalized their relationship in a soft way.)

Get it with that language play hottie. Next up: lengua play.

Please & thank you.

Meanwhile, as all of the Internet knows, they went fully in for omegaverse - no bars.

I have to say, one of the greatest typos (or whatever) in existence is enigma instead of omega.

That's where I personally would rank in the omegaverse.

Hello, my gender is... enigma.

Apparently it's a/b/o and sometimes e! Also sometimes switch-ee

Oh I'm very proud of myself with that one.

Funfunfun

Charlie. Babes. When a man asks to be thrown up against the wall. You throw him against that wall.

OMG is that arrow boy looking at Way in the bar?

3 seconds later.

Noooo.

Wait come back.

Noooooo.

That’s what I actually want to watch!

OMG. Who said nu was the first step to teelak?

I flipping love Alan.

Ah the boyfriend ep. Thank you, but I still don't trust Charlie.

Poor Way.

But nice crying jag, and I don’t say that often in Thai BL.

Now let him go, Way.

A boy with his arrows is waiting.

(source)

Note for the future: tumblr has a bug that stops allowing edits after a certain time/number, thus my full trash often occur in 2 segments as a result. Click on the "abl trash watches bl" tag for the full thing if you're reading this and later episodes are missing.

#pit babe the series #pit babe #thai bl #abl trash watches bl #Pavel Naret Promphaopun #pavel phoom #trash watch #2023 bl #currently airing bl #watch along #Nut Supanut #Pon Thanapon #พิษเบ๊บ

480 notes · View notes

animeomegas · 10 months

Text

The Quest for a Second Life - Part 5 - 50 Shades of Audacity (1)

KAKASHI X ALPHA!READER

Summary: If suddenly waking up in an uncanny office had been bad, this time was worse, because you had a job interview, and the guy before you had just stormed out in tears. Why did you pick this world again? And why is your boss an asshole? And sexy? And with a nice voice? Fuck, this wasn't going to be good. GN!Dom!Alpha!Reader x Multiple

Word Count: 10.8k

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, sex while both parties are a little tipsy, workplace violations, questions about someone not eating lunch due to being a workaholic, and overuse of the world asshole as an adjective. All alphas have dicks, fyi.

A/N: Happy Holidays everyone! And a special happy holidays to those who guessed that our next omega was going to be Kakashi!!! December is well underway and I'm working hard to get all these chapters finished in time for the epilogue to be released on Christmas! The dynamic is different with this one, but I hope everyone enjoys nonetheless <333 I hope you enjoy the choice for the second character, @omeganronpa I'm honoured to call you my friend <333

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Epilogue

In the span of one blink, you went from standing in the library with James, to sitting on an uncomfortable chair in some kind of office waiting room. No matter how many times you jumped between realities, you swore you would never get used to the complete sensory change that happened in milliseconds. You had changed positions, clothes, company and scenery just like that.

Trying to gain your bearings, you tried to take in your new surroundings. Your first thought was that you had some serious déjà vu, as James’ uncanny valley of an office sprung to mind. Seriously, how many times were you going to suddenly gain consciousness in a soulless office?

At least this one was a lot less creepy, you admitted. It had doors and windows for starters, but the cavernous size of the room also helped diminish the claustrophobic feeling. Rather than beige, the room was decorated in a tasteful, modern, monochrome, boring but inoffensive, and better than too much beige in your opinion.

The copious amounts of soulless corporate art on every surface were the final touches that convinced you this was a real office and not set dressing for purgatory.

The waiting room was full of people though. You hadn’t seen this many people in one place since Itachi took you into town, and the general air of anxiety coming off them all was putting you on edge.

You fidgeted, uncomfortable at suddenly wearing formal business wear. The blue folder that was sitting on your lap shifted slightly, but you paid it no mind as you straightened everything out and readjusted yourself into a more comfortable position. To your left, what you could only describe as the combination of a modern water feature and grandfather clock chimed, signalling it as 09:00 AM.

‘James? Can you hear me?’

‘I can, human alpha.’

‘Great. Can you give me a run down of this pocket dimension please? It’s been like, two weeks since I read the blurb.’

‘Of course. ’50 Shades of Audacity’ follows MC, an alpha graduate student who lands the role of personal assistant to one of the most famous CEOs of the time, omega, Kakashi Hatake. MC discovers that Kakashi is hiding a submissive streak, and together, they explore their relationship while preparing for the yearly Autumn Company Party.’

You nodded idly as James explained it, vague memories coming back to you. The man next to you shot you a weird look, and you realised you were nodding at seemingly nothing. You cleared your throat and shifted awkwardly. Whoops.

Regardless, the blurb put your current situation into perspective. When you had chosen the book, you had expected to enter the world already working as a personal assistant, but you had a sneaking suspicion that this was the job interview and all the people sat with you were competition.

To confirm your suspicion, you opened the folder on your lap, and yep, it was filled with important documents, including your CV, degree certificate, and several references. Damn, for someone decently young, you seemed to be the perfect candidate. That did relieve some of the tension. The world was literally set up to push you into the role, and you were the perfect candidate, surely there was nothing to worry about. For now, you decided to try and relax. Job interviews were a pain in the ass, but this one hopefully wouldn’t be too bad. And you could always talk to James to pass the time.

‘James, I know you must be thinking something along the lines of, ‘what kind of human picks a life where they have a job, when they could choose to not have a job?’’

‘I have never had such a thought.’

‘But I’m playing the long game, James,’ you continued, ignoring her response. ‘This Hatake guy must be rolling in it, and so once we’re serious, there would be no reason for me to work anymore! And it’s not like we’d get divorced in an erotica novel, that wouldn’t make sense, so I just need this job to meet him, make him fall in love with me, and then, if I stay here, I’ll have a fancy CEO husband, and everything will work out great.’

‘I see. I believe humans term that strategy, ‘gold digging’.’

You were planning to argue back, but your outrage died on your lips when you realised that she was kind of right. You were only going to choose this omega if you actually loved him, of course, but you couldn’t deny that the main reason you had chosen this book in the first place was the money and possibility of a cushy life. And being able to retain access to the internet which was something you’d have to give up for a life with Itachi.

‘What backstory elements are set in stone here?’ you asked, realising that the amnesia trick wasn’t going to work a second time.

‘Primarily your qualifications and educational history. You also own both a flat and a car, although how you obtained those is up to you.’

Nice, that gave you a lot of freedom to work with. Also… was your flat nice? And what about your car? You hoped so, but even if they weren’t, you could get Hatake to pay for a nice upgrade.

A man with a clipboard walked out of the office door to your left and everyone in your vicinity snapped to attention. He had brown hair and intense, dark eyes that were a little unnerving. “The interviews for the personal assistant job have now begun. You will be called up one at a time. Ren Shimomura.”

The man who had given you a strange look earlier got up and walked into the office with a confident smile, his briefcase swinging gently by his side. When the door closed behind him, everyone relaxed a little and went back to their pointless busy tasks.

‘So, James, what can I expect from this job interview?’ you asked. You figured it wouldn’t hurt to be prepared, even if the universe was going to intervene for your success.

‘That question is more difficult to answer than you might think, human. Despite this pocket dimension being one of the most popular in the erotica category, no one has ever successfully passed the interview and obtained the personal assistant job.’

Your stomach dropped. What? That couldn’t be right, could it?

You laughed nervously, sure that you had misheard. ‘What? Surely the universe needs the person to get the job.’

‘Yes, it has been causing quite the issue. This world has been scheduled for removal for being too difficult to follow. You will be the last person from your realm to ever enter this one, whether you decide to stay or not.’

‘Thanks for warning me before I picked it,’ you ‘said’, your mental voice taking on a tinge of bitterness. So, you were pretty much doomed to failure here? Great.

‘I didn’t warn you, human.’

‘I know.’

Your mental conversation ended as the door to the office opened and the man, Ren, stormed out, looking like he was holding back angry tears. He exited the room swiftly, without so much of a glance back.

That certainly didn’t make you feel any better about your chances.

Neither did your name being called seconds later.

The man with the clipboard smiled at you as you stood, folder in hand. “Just in there, Mr. Hatake is waiting for you.”

You nodded and approached the door. Right, this was fine. You took a deep breath and reminded yourself of your situation. You didn’t need this job. You wouldn’t run out of money without it, you wouldn’t get blacklisted or arrested if something went wrong, you couldn’t die if something went very wrong. The very worst-case scenario was that you bungled this, spent the next two weeks enjoying some alone time in this world, and then returned to your beautiful witch.

So, really, what reason did you have to be nervous?

With that in mind, you took a fortifying breath and walked into the office with your head held high. This CEO couldn’t scare you.

The design of the office was much the same as the waiting room, with a monochrome colour scheme and minimal furniture. The entire back wall was glass, which bathed the office in natural light, but cast shadows around the impressive desk in the middle of the room. Behind the desk was an imposing desk chair that was currently faced away from you. The back of the chair was so high that you couldn’t technically tell if Hatake was sitting in it or not. In front of the desk was a much less impressive desk chair; presumably that chair was for you.

You walked towards your chair, marvelling at how cliché the whole ‘tall chair spin reveal’ thing was. What was he, a Bond villain? The main question though, was if he’d also be accidentally flashing his nipples at you. You stifled a laugh imagining a scary CEO turning around in his chair only for the buttons on his shirt to come flying off.

“Did I say that you could sit down?” The voice came from the highbacked chair, which was still facing away from you.

The CEO’s voice was hot, you couldn’t deny that, but his attitude was already ugly. What kind of high and mighty asshole spoke to people like that? Were you supposed to just stay standing until he offered the seat when he couldn’t even be bothered to face you? Fuck that.

Suddenly, what was remaining of your nervousness bled out of you, replaced by annoyance. Honestly, you had already accepted that you weren’t going to get this job or this omega as soon as James had explained the situation, but maybe you could still get something out of this. Like catharsis. You could berate Hatake on behalf of every shitty boss you couldn’t berate in the past and then this world would still be worth it.

“Unless you’re suffering from short term memory loss, there’s no need for me to answer that question.”

Finally, that seems to goad him into turning around. The chair swivelled, revealing Kakashi Hatake in all his glory. He was dressed in the exact kind of suit you expected for someone like him, expertly tailored, incredibly expensive, and in a tasteful blue colour. Just peeking out from his collar you noticed some clear scent patches, and you imagined you’d find the same ones on his wrists. He had grey-silver hair styled in a way that must have required a significant amount of hair wax, and equally grey eyes, one of which had a vertical scar running through it. He even had a frankly adorable beauty mark, what the fuck.

Fine. He was hot. That didn’t mean he wasn’t an asshole.

The look he was giving you was somehow both disparaging and uninterested, like he was looking at a badly painted wall.

“Why do you want this job?” he asked, voice bored and condescending. “You don’t seem like you’d be particularly good at it.”

You grit your teeth at his blatant disrespect, “Jobs provide the money which can be exchanged for goods and services required to facilitate survival, you see. Perhaps the silver spoon in your mouth prevented you from learning that dichotomy.” You missed your witch.

Kakashi raised an eyebrow. He held out a hand, and you wordlessly passed him your folder of documents. You were honestly surprised that he hadn’t just kicked you out already. His motivations became clear however, when he picked out your CV, ripped it in half, and then tossed it in the bin.

This asshole! You were furious.

Hatake pressed a button on a raised box on his desk and began to speak into it, presumably to dismiss you and ask for the next person to be sent in.

You didn’t need this job, you couldn’t get into any meaningful trouble, and this man was royally pissing you off. Something in you just snapped.

“Tenzou, send—”

You grabbed him by his boring, blue tie and stood, pulling him partially over the desk and towards you. He gasped in surprise, letting go of the button as both hands flew up to grab your wrist. You expected him to immediately pull you off him, but he didn’t. He was still, staring at you with wide eyes. For the first time since you’d walked into his office, it felt like he was properly looking at you.

“I am the best fucking personal assistant out of any of those people out there, and I will not have some bratty CEO talk down to me, understood?”

“I’ll call security,” he said quietly, voice strangely hoarse.

“Don’t bother.” You let him go and he fell back heavily into his ridiculous chair.

“Senpai?” The clipboard man’s voice floated through the speaker on the black box. “Is everything okay? You cut out.”

The man didn’t reply to the message, he only stared at you. His face was blank, but you had the feeling that there was a lot going on inside his head.

‘Remember the story, human.’

For a moment, you thought James was encouraging you to play nice for the sake of the story, but then you realised that she meant. Fuck, that’s right, Kakashi Hatake was a secret submissive. He was probably very turned on and very confused right now. You sent him a cocky grin.

“The job starts Monday, yes?” He nodded, dumbly. “I’ll see you then, 08:00 sharp. All my documents are in the folder.” You walked to the door confidently, and just as you reached it, you turned. “Have a good day, sir.”

You opened the door just as the clipboard man tried to do the same on the other side. You paid neither him nor any of the other candidates any mind, you just strode towards the exit, adrenaline rushing through your veins.

The fresh air and sun hit you as you stepped outside into the office’s car park.

‘James, oh my god, I grabbed him by his tie.’

‘I saw, human, it was very unexpected. No other human has attempted such a method.’

‘I would so be blacklisted if this were real, James. Did… Did I do a good job? It felt like I did at the time, playing up to his submissive side, but now I just feel like I was crazy and there’s no way he’d give me the job.’

‘Only time will tell, human, I do not have the answers.’

‘Time… I can do that.’ You gazed out over the sea of cars, all shimmering in the sun. ‘Now, James, which car is mine?’

…

Once you had successfully found your nicer than expected car, you headed to your mysterious flat. It took longer than you thought, but at least you’d learnt some more about James; she was terrible at giving directions and did not know what a roundabout was.

Your flat, much like your car, was nicer than you expected for a recent graduate that worked as a personal assistant. It was stylish and cosy, with lots of wood tones and warm, textured fabrics. It could have fallen out of an interior design magazine, right down to the perfectly placed bowls of fruit. The flat even had a guest room and a home office.

You were going to put this one down to porn logic again and figure out some sort of explanation for why you had the money for this in your backstory.

After doing some snooping around the flat, you flopped down on your bed, feeling strangely exhausted. You pulled out your phone (and how strange it was to have modern technology back!) and checked the date. It was Friday lunch time, and you didn’t have to go to the job, presuming you even got it, until Monday. That meant you had an entire weekend to do what you wanted. That was the best news you’d heard all day.

‘James, is the entire world, I guess, loaded, for want of a better word? Like, theoretically, if I travelled across the world to a random village, would the people there be real? Does the world function outside of the story?’

‘Once you choose to remain in a world, it functions exactly like the one you came from, yes, complete with up to billions of people who each have their own lives. Not everything is ah, loaded, in this demo though. I would recommend staying firmly within this city for the time being.”

‘Amazing! That’s so exciting, James!’

‘If you say so.’

Alongside modern technology, staying in this world would also give you more chance to travel. With Itachi, you would be mostly going on foot, perhaps on a horse if you were lucky, but here you could be on the other side of the world in a day.

That was for future you to weigh up though, right now you needed to find a bank statement of some kind, because you wanted to spend this weekend pampering yourself and you needed to know your budget. You could think about Kakashi Hatake and this world later, once you had your thoughts in order.

The weekend passed in a blur of bubble baths, food delivery apps, and films. You’d even gone for a dip in your complex’s pool. It had been nice to recharge. You had enjoyed spending time with Itachi immensely, but you’d had almost no proper alone time for over half a month, and it was sorely needed.

The only other thing of note happened on Saturday, when you received an email from Hatake’s company, which contained your new company account and login details.

…

Walking into work on Monday was a surreal feeling that you couldn’t put into words. No one acted like anything strange had happened. You were treated like a normal new hire, which you suspected meant Hatake had kept the details of your interview to himself.

Speaking of Hatake, he was apparently in meetings all morning and so you wouldn’t see him for a few hours. You didn’t know if you were irritated or relieved that your likely awkward reunion would be postponed.

“So, here is Kakashi’s calendar, which kind of functions like the core of your job,” Iruka, the man who was training you, said. “You’ll be in charge of organising his appointments and commitments and reminding him to attend them.” The last part was added with a tone that suggested Hatake had not always been the best at either being on time or showing up at all.

“Got it. No double bookings, and smack Hatake with a ruler if he tries to escape.”

Iruka snorted, but quickly smothered the laugh with a hand. “Pretty much. For today, I’ve gone through your inbox and marked the emails that require appointments as urgent. You just need to schedule them and add them to his calendar. It’s pretty busy at the moment because of the Autumn Company Party at the end of the month, so don’t worry if everything’s a bit much. My desk is over there, so you can ask for help at any time, okay?”

“Thanks, you’re a lifesaver.” You grinned at him, and he smiled back.

“Good luck!” With that he was gone. That wasn’t the first time the Autumn Company Party had come up, but you still weren’t sure what that had to do with the plot of his pocket dimension. It certainly wasn’t as straight forward as ‘collect the potion ingredients’.

‘James, what’s the deal with this party? What’s going to happen at it?’

‘There are many, many ways the event can play out, human. Seeing that you are the first to make it past the interview, I cannot even tell you which outcomes are most likely.’

‘Damn. Well, thanks anyway.’

You ended up whizzing through your work. It was incredibly simple, which could have been because they were taking it easy on you for your first day, or because work in general was easier in porn universes. You finished before Hatake was freed from his morning meetings, so you decided to do a little googling on your new boss. As such a high-profile CEO, you were sure you could find some information on him.

You put his name into the search bar and scrolled through the top results.

There were mostly news articles and links to the company websites, but eventually his Wikipedia page popped up and you clicked on it, skimming down the paragraphs immediately. Your eyebrows kept rising up as you read. His father, the original founder of the company had committed suicide when Kakashi was four years old, leaving him an orphan. He had been immediately added to the company’s board of directors (at four years old?!), and when he’d turned eighteen and those overseeing the company didn’t seem keen to pass it back to him, Kakashi had staged a business coup and seized control by force.

Jeez, what a life story.

Closing the Wikipedia page, you opened a couple of articles instead. One was a gossip magazine speculating on his famous bachelorhood and why he hadn’t settled down yet. Another was talking about the large donations he had made to several dog and animal welfare charities. The third was just a listicle of pictures of him from various point throughout his life. Ha. He looked like he was such a cute, grumpy kid.

You had to admit that his character was perfectly set up to redeem him for being an asshole at your first meeting. Dead parents, a tragic backstory, betrayal from those supposed to look after him, an animal lover… You bet that he had been forced to supress his emotions to avoid being manipulated as a child, too. That was about as stereotypical as you could get. Were he a fictional character, his fans would easily excuse any rudeness and ruthlessly defend him online. And that was fine, but they weren’t the ones who had to be on the receiving end of his rudeness.

Ugh, you didn’t know what to do with him. On one hand, you were happy ignoring him for being mean to you in your interview, but on the other, you kind of wanted to get to know him to see what the story was about. Maybe you’d put in a bit of effort as a show of good faith, but if he insisted on rebuffing you, you’d give up and find some other way to enjoy yourself. Yeah, that sounded like a good plan.

Dog lovers were your weakness, so you couldn’t give up on him completely, not just yet.

You closed the tabs and, checking the time, you realised you still had some leeway before Hatake was free. You needed to come up with your backstory sharpish, because you didn’t have amnesia this time, and people would likely start asking questions about you once lunch hit. Best get your story straight first.

You grabbed a post-it note and jotted down your favourite acronym, MLHH (Money, Love, Health, Happiness), to keep you on target.

Loving parents, you definitely wanted those. Were they the ones you wanted funding your lifestyle? Hmm, no, how about a rich, eccentric aunt that sent money all the time? Yes, you’d always wanted a fun, rich uncle or aunt to spoil you. Perhaps she had been the one to buy you the house and car. You jotted it all down. You also crafted yourself two best friends and a couple of hobbies, just to enrich your life. As per James’ instructions, you left the academic stuff alone.

“Am I paying you to write details about your own life on post it notes?” A sudden voice from behind made you jump, smacking your knees on the underside of the desk with a bang.

You laughed awkwardly as you came face to face with the man of the hour, Kakashi Hatake, who had chosen a charcoal grey suit for today, giving him an overall monochrome vibe that matched the office building. He was staring at your post it note, unimpressed.

You snatched the note and put it in your pocket. Quick, find some way to change the subject!

“I’ve updated your calendar with more meetings and commitments. This afternoon you only have a phone call with a representative from a company that sells… custom dog bandanas?” You decided not to question it. “The rest of the afternoon is business as usual.”

He watched you for a moment before he nodded, and turned to enter his office door, which was only a few feet from your desk.

“Just so you know,” he said, turning to look at you over his shoulder, “more work is periodically added to your task list, you just need to refresh the page.”

The door slammed shut behind him. You made a frustrated noise. He was so rude, with his annoyingly hot face and perfect voice. God, he got on your nerves like no one else. Ugh, you already regretted deciding to give him a chance.

You refreshed the task list and watched it fill up with new tasks.

Why did you pick a world where you had a job again? Oh yeah, you were playing the long game. The long game sucked.

You spent the rest of the workday completing tasks and flip flopping on whether it was worth trying to chase the plot and romance Hatake. Instinctually you led towards no, but when you remembered how he’d responded to you in the interview, you wavered. Ultimately, your curiosity was too much to resist, so you hatched a plan to spend some time with him.

…

“Did you have someone sneak you lunch through the window, or have you not eaten yet today?” you asked, waltzing into Hatake’s office at exactly 17:05, coat and bag ready to leave.

Hatake finished whatever he was writing before putting down the pen and giving you a flat look. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business, and I’m certain I told you to knock before coming in.”

“Firstly, the workday ended five minutes ago so you’re not the boss of me anymore. Secondly, that was the clearest no I’ve ever heard. You should make time to eat lunch, you know, it’s good for you.”

“If you don’t have anything of use to say, then leave.” Ugh, why were you dealing with this asshole again?

“Actually, I do.” He raised an eyebrow at you, like he was already dismissing your message. “Get dinner with me.”

That actually seemed to catch him off guard, if only for a moment. You had honestly been wondering if the side of him you glimpsed in your interview was some kind of hallucination, but there was a flicker of that same man now. Unfortunately, although you could see that, you could also see the moment he shut down the reaction and returned to his flat, impassive stare.

“I’m busy this evening—”

“I already moved your appointment to tomorrow morning.”

He narrowed his eyes at you. You didn’t know if it was irritation at your messing with his schedule or at interrupting him, but you did know that you were getting on his nerves. Good.

“And I suppose, if you’re inviting me, then you’re paying?” he challenged. “Fair warning, I have expensive taste.”

‘James, quick, what’s the best restaurant in the area?’

‘Kakashi Hatake often visits a restaurant about two miles from here, called La Liaison. It’s French, and incredibly pricy.’

Right, you tried to remember what you’d seen you your bank details. You could definitely afford one fancy meal; it was affording everything else after that that was the problem.

Hatake’s smug face at your hesitation spurred you on. You wracked your brain for some kind of solution.

‘James, if I decide that my rich aunt sends me large lump sums of money every month, will my bank account automatically replenish by the end of this demo?’

‘Technically, yes, although it will only happen if you choose this dimension permanently, as your rich aunt does not yet exist. You must also remember to speak or write any information you want to be true for it to take effect.’

Perfect. You could wipe that smug look off Hatake’s face, live a bit more frugally for the rest of the demo, and if for some unknown reason you chose to stay here, you’d have your money automatically replenished. You just had to remember to write the details down after dinner tonight.

“Of course, it’ll be my treat,” you smiled, tips tight. “Do you like French food? I heard La Liaison is lovely.”

Kakashi studied you for a moment, like he was trying to figure out what game you were playing. Just as you thought you’d won the little verbal exchange, Hatake sent you a mocking eye smile. “And how are you planning on gaining a reservation at such short notice? The next available evening bookings are for two months from now.”

You tensed up like you’d been dealt a physical blow. Fuck, you forgot about bookings. There was no way you could allow him to win just like that, though. You took a deep breath, porn logic, I believe in you, please help me out, I’m trying to woo him, just as you wanted. Kind of.

“I’m sure it will all work out!” You voice was artificially chipper, and you could tell that Hatake was picking up on your anxiety. “Come on, what’s the harm? Let’s go!”

He watched you evenly. That was one thing you’d noticed about Hatake; he always thought before he spoke, choosing each action and word carefully. It made sense once you considered his childhood and was equal parts sad and irritating.

Just when you thought he was about to refuse and dismiss you, Hatake chuckled and stood, closing his computer and grabbing his suit jacket from the back of his ridiculously dramatic desk chair.

“I’ll have my chauffeur drop us off,” he said, walking to the door. You followed, kind of stunned that he had agreed at all. He locked the office door behind him. “There’s no parking available at this time of day in the town centre.”

You walked through the office side by side, watching your coworkers pack up or work late.

Everyone noticed you two, armed with bags and coats that made it obvious you were leaving together. There were gasps, there was gossiping, there were whispers. The man with the clipboard, who had introduced himself to you as Yamato, looked like he had seen a ghost. Was it really that strange to see this CEO leave work on time, or was it because he was with you?

Hatake paid them no mind, and you tried to do the same.

It was strange that he agreed to join you, but you didn’t get your hopes up that this meant he suddenly liked you. It was more likely that he was coming in order to force your hand. If you were humiliated by there being no tables, or not being able to afford the food you said you could, it would likely stop you from bothering him outside of work again.

You just really, really hoped there would somehow be a table.

Once you arrived at the car park, there was a sleek, black car waiting for you. You weren’t sure if Hatake had somehow called ahead without you noticing, or if his car was already ready for him, but it was very convenient. If the chauffeur was surprised that Hatake had a guest, he didn’t mention it.

The car was so obviously expensive that you felt a little uncomfortable sitting in it. You had never been so conscious of your hand placement in your life. The brat of a CEO didn’t seem to have the same problem, relaxing easily against the leather, looking right at home. He gave the driver the name of the restaurant, and you were off.

You took a moment to beg the pocket dimension that somehow you would be able to get a seat. ‘Porn logic, I’ve always loved and respected you, please pull through for me, just this once! I won’t be able to handle Hatake’s smug grin without punching him in the face.’

‘My name is James, human, and I cannot control these pocket dimensions.’

You snorted, ‘I wasn’t speaking to you James, sorry.’

“What’s so funny?” Hatake asked, breaking the silence. Oh, you had laughed out loud; you had to stop doing that. Were you also doing it when you were with Itachi, but there were just fewer people around to comment on it? Itachi seemed like the sort who would take a lot of weirdness in stride.

“Your face.”

Hatake let out an amused breath, “Are you always so childish?”

“What can I say? You bring out the worst in me.”

“Approximately five minutes until arrival, sir,” the chauffeur said, speaking through a speaker that connected the front and back sections of the car.

“Just Kakashi is fine,” he sighed. “I’ve told you that a hundred times.”

“If you say so, sir.” Hatake rolled his eyes but dropped the issue.

The final five minutes passed it silence.

…

La Liaison was a small modern building nestled at the very end of the high street, decorated in pastel blue and covered in artificial ivy. The whole building exuded a timeless elegance that made you glad your work dress code was formal. Stepping through the doors, you were welcomed by warm lighting, live piano music, and an impeccably dressed host. This was the exact kind of place you could see Hatake fitting right in.

“Good afternoon, and welcome to La Liaison. Can I take the name on your reservation, please?”

You could practically feel the amusement radiating off the smug asshole behind you as you were faced with the exact situation he had predicted. You just had to go for it. You believed in the porn logic!

(And if it didn’t work you were going to return to your flat with your tail between your legs, make James pull you out of this dimension early, and then ask Itachi for a potion that could remove memories instead of bringing them back.)

“Ah, well, we don’t technically have a reservation, but an acquaintance of mine mentioned that they just had to cancel theirs, so we were hoping there’d be a free table.”

Please work, please work, please work.

The two seconds between your request and the host’s response felt like an agonising eternity. Failure wasn’t an option; you couldn’t lose to your awful boss.

The relief you felt when the host’s face melted into a smile almost knocked you to your knees.

“Is that so? Yes, I just got off the phone with them, you’re lucky no one else has claimed the table yet. If you’ll pass my college your coats, I’ll take you to your table.”

Yes, yes, yes!! You loved porn logic so much. It seemed like anything was fair game as long as it pushed you and Mr. Smug together. Speaking of Mr. Smug, you mouthed ‘I told you so’, as you walked to your table. He did not respond.

The table was, unsurprisingly, very romantic. It was secluded away in the corner, pressed up against a window and yet sectioned from the rest of the restaurant by a divider. The table sat two people, and its white tablecloth was covered in candles and rose petals. Of course, the cancelled reservation was for a romantic date. You weren’t going to complain though; a table was a table.

You both sat down. You briefly debated pulling out the chair for Hatake, but you decided against it at the last minute. You were both handed menus and informed of the soup of the day before the waiter left you in peace. The illusion of privacy helped you relax, despite the stuffy atmosphere.

“An acquaintance, huh?” Kakashi asked, unfolding his napkin and laying it over his lap. He obviously didn’t believe your lie.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re incredibly annoying?” you said, instead of answering his question.

“Once or twice.”

“Well then,” you shot him a sarcastic smile, “I’m glad you have such honest people in your life.”

“As am I.” The eye smile he sent you this time seemed more genuine, and you had to hold back your laugh.

The conversation faded for a moment as the background chatter from the rest of the restaurant filled the space. It was weird to be here with him, and maybe you were still riding the high of getting a table, but you were already enjoying yourself.

“So… you come here often?” you asked, picking up the menu. You supressed a wince at the prices. “It seems like you’re right at home.”

“It makes for a convenient location to dazzle those who demand such treatment before they’ll sign anything.”

“Ugh, so this is where you take people to schmooze them? Gross.” You flipped over the menu to find the drinks section, only to belatedly realise that the drinks had their own menu already on the table. “I can’t imagine you doing that successfully; you’re so rude.”

“Maybe you just bring out the worst in me.”

The way he reused your words from earlier reluctantly brought a smile to your face. Okay fine. Fine! You’d admit that he was witty, and you had some good chemistry. And he was hot. But that was it! That didn’t mean you were going to fall in love with someone so annoying!

‘I believe you were also interested in his love for dogs, human alpha.’

‘James, I’m trying to live in denial here, and you’re ruining it.’

‘My apologies. Does that mean that I should also refrain from mentioning your obvious obsession with his beauty mark?’

Sometimes, you weren’t sure that James wasn’t an elaborate troll.

Scanning the menu, you decided the vegetarian pasta looked nice. And if it was also the cheapest thing on the menu, well that was just a coincidence. This better be one of the best meals of your life.

Kakashi left his menu completely untouched. Right, he’d been here countless of times to charm people into signing away their money. He was probably treating this dinner as something similar, but with you wanting something from him instead. You doubted he’d believe you if you said you were doing this out of curiosity. But the questioned remained, how could you make this feel different for him?

Suddenly, it hit you; he liked when other people took control. You had an idea.

‘James, can you tell me what Kakashi normally orders from here?’

‘He always orders one of the seafood dishes, accompanied by a white wine.’

Right. Perfect. What you were about to do would be so out of order in real life, but you had plot armour, and honestly you wanted to see what would happen.

When the waiter returned, he directed his, “Are you ready to order?”, towards Kakashi. He probably recognised him if he was a regular, and figured he was schmoozing another hapless soul.

That didn’t fit what you had in mind though.

“Yes, we are,” you said confidently, before Kakashi could speak. “We’ll have a bottle of the Chateau Sixtine Blanc and some still water for the table. For food, I’ll have the vegetarian pasta, and he’ll have the Coquilles Saint-Jacques.”

Kakashi’s stare was intense, but he didn’t intervene. The waiter seemed taken aback that you were ordering for the table, but when Kakashi made no move to dispute what you’d said, he nodded, collected your menus, and left. You expected to be admonished in some way, but Kakashi remained silent.

Drinks arrived quickly. The waiter poured you both a glass of the wine and some water before he was gone again. Kakashi picked up the wine glasses and swirled it dramatically before taking a sip.

When he spoke, you had expected a question about how you found out his usual order, or perhaps a comment on the wine, but no, instead, he was his usual blunt self.

“I wonder what it is you’re hoping to gain from this.”

“That’s fine, you can wonder all you like.”

He sent you a measured look, “Has anyone ever told you you’re incredibly annoying?”

You grinned, “Nope!”

“I see. Well, I hope you’ll be blessed with some honest people in your life soon, I’ve found having them around to be extraordinarily helpful.”

You snorted mid sip of wine, which probably didn’t look attractive. Coughing, you looked up, expecting a judgemental look for behaving such a way in a fancy restaurant, but Kakashi just looked amused.

“Can I ask you a question?” You dabbed your lips with your napkin to soak up any stray wine drops. “What was the deal with that interview? It didn’t seem like you even wanted any applicants there. Was it just some weird form of employment hazing?”

“Simple. I didn’t want an assistant; I work better alone.”

“Then why hold the interview at all?”

“The board of directors were very… persistent. I knew they’d only shut up if I scared off every personal assistant in the city.”

You sent him a searching look, “But you hired me.”

“I did.”

“Why?”

He shrugged, “You had comedy value.”

Comedy value!? This dick.

“Liar,” you shot back. “You just think I’m hot, admit it.”

You got another one of his infuriating eye smiles. “If you say so.” God, you wanted to punch him, and maybe kiss him. Fuck.

“Whatever, just know that it’s your turn to pay for dinner next time, an I’m ordering the most expensive thing I can find.”

“If we go out for dinner too often, people will talk.”

“As if they aren’t already,” you said, referencing the sate of the office you’d left behind. You’d bet that they’d all stayed late to swap theories. “Yamato looked at us like a child who’d just walked in on his parents having sex.”

Kakashi seemed amused, “He would not appreciate that description.”

“That doesn’t make it any less true.”

As the conversation flowed, so did the wine. You were surprised by how much fun you were having. Hatake was a great conversationalist and the rapid-fire banter had you laughing out loud more than once. The food was just as good as you’d hoped as well.

To your utter delight, Hatake’s face turned pink as he drank. So cute. You couldn’t stop yourself from reaching out to feel the warm skin. Kakashi leaned into the hand in an almost nuzzle. You did not expect him to reciprocate. Shocked, you froze, hand still on his cheek.

Hatake seemed surprised too because he suddenly wrenched himself away from you. You pulled your hand back like it’d been burnt.

You’d bet anything that he was touch starved.

“Sorry, Hatake, I don’t know why I—”

“Kakashi,” he muttered, “you can call me Kakashi. Everyone does.”

“Kakashi,” you repeated, sending him a small smile. Maybe he wasn’t so bad. You kind of wanted to lick his face.

Kakashi’s phone buzzed in his pocket, shattering the moment. Disappointingly, he immediately slipped it out of his pocket and checked the message. You weren’t exactly surprised that he put checking his phone over your conversation, but it was still rude, whether you expected it or not.

Kakashi made an amused noise as he saw the expression on your face. “I only have audible notifications on for important people; I’m just checking to make sure nothing is wrong, there’s no need to look so offended.”

You sputtered, face heating up, “I’m not offended! I was just thinking it was rude to check your phone at dinner.”

“Ruder than ordering for someone else without their permission?”

“Whatever,” you mumbled, crossing your arms. “You liked it.”

Kakashi didn’t acknowledge you as he checked his messaged. You watched his eyes move from side to side as he read, before he eventually barked out a laugh and put the phone away.

“What’s funny?”

“One of my friends evidently found out that I was out to dinner. He has wished us luck on our youthful endeavours.”

You pulled a face at the weird phrasing. “He sounds… interesting.”

“You have no idea,” Kakashi said before emptying his wine glass.

“People seem so surprised about this. You don’t get out much then?”

Kakashi barked a laugh that sounded surprisingly bitter, and then didn’t elaborate. In true erotica love interest fashion, there was something brewing below the surface. Touch starved, orphaned, rich, but lonely, he was about as stereotypical as it got. You wondered if he’d also killed someone like Itachi? Hmm, probably not. This was a modern universe, and there were normally more severe consequences for things like that. It would have at least been mentioned on his wiki page.

By the time you had finished eating, the city outside the window had lit up in the darkness. The traffic had died down once rush hour ended, but the occasional car still passed by. You checked your phone and realised you’d been having dinner with Kakashi for almost two hours.

Your pride didn’t stop you from admitting that the time was flying because you were having fun.

Still, it was getting late, so you waved down a waiter and requested the bill. You were hoping that, seeing as you’d taken charge with ordering, that he would… yes! The waiter put the bill down in front of you instead of Kakashi.

You grinned at him smugly; you’d been assigned dom by wait staff.

He rolled his eyes at you, but you could see the smile on his face.

The bill wasn’t great, but it could have been worse. Clearly you hadn’t managed to keep your grimace supressed completely though because Kakashi noticed.

“Having second thoughts?” He was annoyingly observant.

You had never pulled out your card faster, grateful that you’d found your pin number written down in some old documents in your flat. Kakashi watched you pay, a strange glint in his eyes.

Did he assume you were going to dine and dash and make him pay or something? No… that wasn’t it. His ears had gone red too, and not from the alcohol.

He liked it, you realised gleefully. He liked that you ordered for him. He liked that you paid for him. He liked that you had decided on the place and time and dragged him along. It fit his reaction and it fit his character.

You were certain that most of his acquaintances either saw Kakashi as some kind of aloof, ‘didn’t believe in love’ character, or as a hard dom. And on the surface, sure, you could understand why they thought that, but how could anyone continue to think so once they spoke to him properly, when he was practically crying out for someone to take care of him?

Exhilaration ran through you. Maybe you were in this for more than just curiosity now.

“Come on,” you said, standing. “It’s getting late, and I still need to get my car—Shoot, I’m probably over the limit. I guess it’s a taxi for me then.”

“I can drop you home.” Kakashi stood as well, and you both walked to collect your coats. “It won’t be a problem.”

“Thanks,” you said relieved. You needed to at least try to budget after the amount you just spent on dinner.

Just as you were putting on your coats, Kakashi’s phone ran in his pocket. Remembering what he said about only having important people on vibrate, you remained silent as he took the call. You couldn’t quite make out the murmurs on the other side of the call, but Kakashi didn’t look pleased.

“Right… Okay… And there’s no alternate route? Of course… It can’t be helped, just meet me at the office.”

Did he have a last-minute work obligation perhaps?

“Yes, okay, I’ll see you soon.” He hung up the phone and slipped it into his pocket. “Bad news, there’s been a minor accident on the road and my driver can’t get to us. We can get through on the pedestrian pathways just fine, so we’ll have to go back to the office on foot.”

“Oh, that’s not a big deal, it’s only about twenty minutes, right?” You didn’t understand why he seemed so serious about a minor hold up. Did he think you were going to be mad at him or something? Kakashi relaxed imperceptibly as it became clear that you didn’t mind.

It only occurred to you later, once you were well into the walk, that Kakashi was used to schmoozing a bunch of hoity toity rich people at La Liaison who probably would throw a fit at such a minor inconvenience. Those kinds of people were the worst.

“Why did you ask me to dinner tonight?” Kakashi asked. He spoke casually, but in a way that suggested the casualness was being used to disguise a more serious question.

You knew that he wouldn’t stop until he got an answer that satisfied him, and you didn’t want your relationship to be stained by doubts as to your intentions, so you decided to give him an answer as close to the truth as possible. If you started talking about erotic fiction, he’d probably call some kind of doctor.

“Because you seemed miserable, and I was curious about you. Figured this would kill two birds with one stone. Also, you piss me off, I won’t lie.”

“You took me to dinner because I piss you off?” Kakashi asked, a ghost of a smile on his face. “Is that some kind of fetish or is it a psychological defect?”

You squawked indignantly and tried to hit him on the arm. He dodged it, laughing.

“You’re one to talk! You hired me after I grabbed you by the tie in a job interview. That’s got to be a fetish and a psychological defect!” You shoved him on the shoulder, and he immediately shoved you back, and before you knew it, you were having a children’s battle on the street.

A random woman from across the street gave you a dirty look, you stuck your tongue out at her. Kakashi giggled, like, actually giggled, and that sent you into hysterics.

Maybe you’d had more to drink than you thought.

“You know,” you said, throwing your arm over his shoulder, “next time I take you out, we’re going to McDonald’s. It’s cheaper, and I think it’ll be funny to watch you sit there in your suit. Wait, have you ever been to a McDonald’s before?”

“I’m wealthy, I’m not an alien.” He rolled his eyes at you. He seemed to do that a lot. You couldn’t imagine him sitting in a McDonald’s. “I go every other week because my dogs like the carrot sticks from there.”

“You feed your dogs carrot sticks from McDonald’s?”

“Yep.”

“Have you ever considered, I don’t know, buying a pack of carrots?”

“No, because they like the ones from McDonald’s.”

You shook your head in disbelief. Rich people were crazy. “How many dogs do you have anyway?”

“Eight.”

“EIGHT?!”

…

Car parks at night, familiar or not, were unnerving in the way that liminal spaces always were. At least you were almost at the office doors, where Kakashi’s chauffeur was going to pick you both up. You were glad to finally get there, because as fun as the walk had been, the Autumn night was surprisingly chilly, and it was taking genuine effort to remember all of Kakashi’s dogs’ names. You were honestly surprised that the porn logic didn’t add any strange occurrences on the walk.

Naturally, the second that thought formed in your head, something happened.

As you passed round the side of a tall fence, your shirt got caught on a stray piece of metal. What would have been a minor inconvenience, barely a rip, in your old reality, was a complete pornographic disaster in this one, as every button on your shirt somehow ripped off, leaving your shirt hanging open.

The cold air hit your skin and goosebumps erupted all over your chest. Yelping, you dragged the pieces of shirt back together and held them firmly closed. Obviously, you weren’t fast enough to stop Kakashi from getting a look. The way he was pointedly looking away from you, rosy cheeked, said it all.

“Stupid fence,” you grumbled, giving it a dirty look. This wasn’t exactly the first time, or even the coldest time, that porn logic had decided to spontaneously strip someone, but it always managed to catch you off guard. Did the people who lived in erotica worlds always carry spare changes of clothes just in case?

“Are you hurt?” Kakashi asked. He sounded a little awkward, but ultimately sincere. It was nice that he’d decided to go for genuine concern over sarcasm, and you decided to do the same.

“I’m fine, it just caught me by surprise. At least it’s dark so no one caught an eye full.”

Kakashi coughed. Okay, no one apart from him.

“I’ll send a message to maintenance in the morning, but for now, I have a spare shirt in my office that you’re welcome to borrow for the evening.”

Huh, what do you know, people did keep spare clothes around. You were about to decline, citing the late hour and the fact that you were wearing a coat that you could do up, when you realised what was happening. You’d bet anything that something sexy would happen if you followed him up to his office.

“That would be great, thanks.” You weren’t going to let this slide from your grip when he was so pretty. And honestly, he was starting to seem like less of an asshole in general. He was fun, traumatised, and had eight dogs, if that wasn’t your type, you didn’t know what was.

…

Flickering the lights on in his office, Kakashi went into one of the cupboards to look for the shirt while you snooped at the ornaments he had on his shelves. Notably, there were no pictures. You picked up a weird ceramic circle statue and turned it over to see if it did anything cool.

You had passed a security guard on the way up to Kakashi’s office, that looked very intrigued as to why you two were together so late, and why your shirt was ripped open, so you resigned yourself to the rumour mill only getting worse by tomorrow.

“Are you nosy by nature or just interested in my office in particular?”

“Shut up.” You put back the ornament and turned to face him. He was holding the spare shirt in his hand. “You want to fuck me so bad, don’t deny it.”

You expected another eye roll.

“Oh, you have no idea,” he growled, watching you intensely. Oh, that wasn’t an eye roll.

One moment you were staring at him, unsure of what to say, and the next, you were crashing together, lips, tongue, and teeth, in a horny and aggressive kiss. You didn’t know which one of you moved first, you didn’t really care, you only knew that Kakashi was hot and infuriating, and you wanted to kiss him until he couldn’t make that smug face anymore.

Kissing Kakashi was giving you whiplash. He was different to Itachi in every way you could think of. He was confident, aggressive, he fought with you, clashed with you, and he seemed to determined to kiss you twice as hard as you kissed him.

It was obvious that Kakashi’s submission wouldn’t be freely given like Itachi’s, no, you would have to earn it. The challenge scratched at your instincts, and suddenly you wanted to prove to this omega that he could trust you. A good orgasm should lay the groundwork for that.

Both coats were quickly discarded as you kissed, and your ruined shirt fell off moments later.

You had been consciously avoiding his hair in fear of the amount of wax you figured he used to keep that hair style, but one weak moment, as Kakashi’s hips jolted forwards towards yours, you forgot, and ran you fingers through it.

To your surprise, your fingers glided through the soft strands easily. You were so shocked that you broke the kiss. You furrowed your eyebrows as you examined his hair.

“What are you doing?” he panted, confused.

“How the fuck does your hair stay up like that without any hairspray or wax?”

“What?” He sounded baffled. “This is just what my hair looks like. Does it matter?”

“I guess not.”

The kiss resumed, somehow more desperate and aggressive than before. Kakashi grabbed your waist so hard that you could feel the pin pricks from his nails digging into your skin. In return, you made use of your new found knowledge and grabbed a handful of Kakashi’s hair.

You pushed him backwards, never once breaking the rhythm of your kiss, until his upper thighs made contact with the front of his desk. His pot of pens fell as the desk jolted, scattering the expensive pens all over the ground. Neither of you paid it any mind.

When you finally pulled away for air, Kakashi wasted no time, immediately latching onto your neck with reckless abandon. There was something feral about him that was making you hot. He didn’t hold back. You could tell that he was experienced, and he was using every drop of that experience to his advantage.

While he was distracted, you worked on undoing his buttons. It was harder than it looked to remain focused while Kakashi was doing his best impression of a vampire on your neck.

“You have way too many fucking buttons on this shirt.”

“It’s a normal number of buttons,” he murmured against your skin.

“There is literally nothing normal about you.”

“And you say I’m the rude one.”

“That’s because you fucking are.”

Eventually, you managed to undo the last button. Your noise of triumph morphed into a moan as Kakashi nipped around your collar bone. You used his hair to tug him back before loosening his tie and pushing the shirt off his shoulders.

The way his torso looked, bare but with a loose tie hanging over it, unlocked a kink you didn’t know you had. In fact, everything about him was hot. As you dragged the shirt down his arms, you could feel his muscles flexing. Kakashi was strong and broad, and he wore it so well.

You didn’t bother pulling the shirt off all the way, instead letting it bunch at his wrists, acting as a semi-restraint. He tugged at it experimentally, and when he found it restricting his movement, his pupils dilated.

You cooed as you ran your hands all over his naked torse. That’s right, he was a forceful person, certainly, but any shows of dominance were likely performative or learnt behaviours, because this man was a giant sub at heart.

You grabbed his bottom lip between your teeth and pulled it lightly. Kakashi growled at you, but you knew what he was doing; he wasn’t telling you to stop, he was challenging you. You growled back, stronger, louder, and just as you thought, his growling stopped, and his scent took on a delicious hint of submission.

“God, you really are annoyingly hot,” you growled, biting along his jaw. “Emphasis on annoying.”

“Takes one to know one,” he fired back, squeezing your waits.

“Mutual handjob?” you whispered against his skin, already undoing his trousers, before doing the same with yours.

“That the first intelligent thing you’ve said all night.”

“Fuck you.”

You grabbed Kakashi’s muscular thighs and lifted him slightly until he was perched on his desk. A stack of papers tipped over and fluttered to the ground, but that wasn’t a problem for present you, so you happily ignored the chaos in favour of the panting omega in front of you.

You took your dick out from your pants and did the same for Kakashi. They bumped up against each other, searingly hot and unflinchingly hard. You let out a whistle of appreciation at his cock. It was big, bigger than most alphas you’d met, and certainly bigger than any omega’s cock you’d ever seen. In fact, just eyeballing it, he was roughly the same size as you. His shaft was as pale as the rest of him, but the head was an angry red. It was girthy too, and it felt hot and solid in your palm.

Purposefully, you thrust your hips forward, guiding your cock against his with both of your hands. Kakashi moaned, thrusting up to meet you. He could only watch, his hands restrained as they were.

You kept your hands around the dicks, keeping them aligned as you both started to rut against each other. Beads of pre cum quickly made their appearance, which only made everything else feel that much better.

There was something deeply satisfying about what you were doing, especially because you were both still half-dressed. It made it feel desperate, like you couldn’t wait long enough to get your clothes off, too desperately attracted to each other, and had instead chosen to rub off on each other like horny teenagers.

You made out messily while you grinded against each other. Maintaining a consistent pace was a little difficult, especially as things got wetter and wetter, but you managed. There was something sexy about the chaos. The increased sensitivity from being in the erotica world didn’t hurt either.

Your moans and groans increased in frequency as you got closer. If felt like every nerve ending you had was on fire, and Kakashi looked much like you felt, covered in a thin sheen of sweat that was obvious under the hard corporate lighting.

Technically, with it being so bright inside and so dark outside, anyone who happened to glance up would have got a glimpse of you, but you were both too far gone to care.

“You love having someone take control of you, don’t you Kakashi,” you moaned, pressing your lips against his. “You’re tired of always being in control, aren’t you? The big CEO, everyone’s relying on you, but who do you get to rely on? Who looks after you? You want someone to do that, don’t you? You’re a walking, talking CEO stereotype.”

“Who says I’m going to give control to you?” he panted, licking his lips. “Aren’t you getting ahead of yourself?”

“Hmm, nope, I think I’m right on track,” you teased. Already picking up on his proclivity for biting, you gave a bite in return, just shy of where a mating mark might theoretically go. Kakashi gasped, his hands straining at the shirt that restrained them. “I’ll get you to submit to me properly, one day.”

“We’ll see.”

The alcohol and the increased sensitivity were mixing together to make this tryst shorter than expected, but Kakashi seemed to be in the same boat, so you couldn’t bring yourself to care. The banter ceased as the final stretch towards your orgasms started.

As your ending approached, you bent down and sealed your lips with Kakashi’s once more. Suddenly, everything crested, and pleasure flowed over you in waves. Your thrusts got sloppy, but neither of you cared. Kakashi came with a guttural moan. His stomach muscles flexing in a hypnotic dance.

The extra cum afforded by the porn logic soaked both your dicks and your hands, staining both pairs of trousers too. It dripped onto the carpet, and if the security guard didn’t spread a rumour about you and Kakashi hooking up, one of the cleaners probably would.

Some of Kakashi’s cum had even landed on the spare shirt, so you now had a choice between a torn shirt, or one covered in cum to match your stained trousers. Great. Why did horny you always make such bad decisions?

You and Kakashi remained leaning against each other for a while, just catching your breaths and marvelling at how fast your relationship had move. You wouldn’t have believed it if someone had told you during your interview that you’d end up grinding on that asshole’s desk a few days later.

‘I would have believed it.’

‘Thanks, James.’

Kakashi opened his mouth to speak, but the door to his office suddenly opened, cutting him off. You both stiffened, snapping up to face the intruder like a pair of deer in headlights.

There, standing in the doorway with the expression of a man who was entirely done with life, was Kakashi’s chauffeur. Instead of an apology of any kind, the man just sighed.

“The car is downstairs when you are ready. Please try and clean up before getting in, the leather won’t forget these kinds of smells easily.” With that, he left, shutting the door firmly behind him.

You and Kakashi looked at each other, then to the door, and then to each other, before you both burst out laughing.

What a way to end the night.

Next Chapter

#the quest for a second life #kakashi #kakashi hatake #kakashi x reader #alpha!reader #alpha reader #omega!kakashi #omega kakashi #a/b/o #omegaverse #alpha x omega #gn reader #sub kakashi #sub!kakashi #dom!reader #dom reader #n-sfw #reader insert

381 notes · View notes

cannellee · 4 months

Note

Who were the other options you had in mind for parhetic alphas, considering you said there were so many choices for the number 3 place before you gave it to Hakkai? Who is in the top 10 pathetic whipped Alphas?

TOKYO REVENGERS OMEGAVERSE ☆

୨୧ alpha! tokyorev x omega! reader (pairing : shinichiro, takemichi, hakkai, yamagishi, angry, naoto, kisaki, shion, kazutora, hanma)

— top 10 pathetic alphas of tokyorev (part. 1)

I struggled a bit to finish this, I honestly don't think there are 10 real pathetic men, shinichiro and takemichi easily take the first places. but after them, it's hard to choose. it's obviously not extremely representative but here's my thoughts on this!

MY MASTERLIST : ☆

𐙚. N°1 : ALPHA! SHINICHIRO

· · ୨୧ · ·

𐙚. N° 2 : ALPHA! TAKEMICHI

· · ୨୧ · ·

𐙚. N°3 : ALPHA! HAKKAI

· · ୨୧ · ·

𐙚. N° 4 : ALPHA! YAMAGISHI

yamagishi is an awkward nerd who never felt the touch of an omega, he's sweating buckets the first time you initiate skinship. it feels too unreal to him, you have him malfunctioning and you simply enjoy his panicked look.

he's such a beta-passing alpha and that's what he's most insecure about, despite being told he needs to toughen up, he can't help but crave your validation. people often mock him for how your roles seem to have been exchanged, but what else is he supposed to do when his goddess of an omega talks ever so sweetly to him like that ?

you often laugh at him whenever he acts all serious and tough, you love it when he tries to impress you that way, thinking the way he glances at you to judge your reactions is subtle (it's not), but you play along and give him the attention he needs.

· · ୨୧ · ·

𐙚. N° 5 : ALPHA! ANGRY

of course angry is on the list. he's so sensitive and attentive, always carefully analysing your reactions and what you say to him, making sure he never upsets his lovely omega.

you're such an important person to angry that he can't help but let his whole world spin around you like you're his sun. he cooks, he cleans and gives plenty of gifts. whatever you want is yours in the minute. he'll cry if you get mad at him or even show him the slightest form of disapproval. if you refuse to talk to him, he throws the little pride he had to beg and plead for you to look at him again.

· · ୨୧ · ·

𐙚. N° 6 : ALPHA! NAOTO

naoto isn't that pathetic, but shy and nervous enough to stir up funny reactions from him whenever he's around you. what's best, is how composed he is with everyone else but you. he acts all serious and shit, but all of that crumble when you're looking at him with your big doe eyes, sweetly smiling at him.

how could such a tall and honorable alpha fold so fast for a tiny omega such as yourself ? that's what everyone is wondering. but naoto doesn't care about stupid gender roles and simply embraces the fact that you make him double check himself when you're about to meet up.

· · ୨୧ · ·

𐙚. N° 7 : ALPHA! KISAKI

bro started a whole war and killed people 'for' his omega, you can't tell me this isn't pathetic behaviour. see it however you like, but when kisaki sets his eyes on something or someone, he is obssessed. never lets you out of his sight, desperately scenting you, having people spy on you... in my opinion, kisaki is giving stalker vibes and only loosers choose that option : they're too scared to confront their crush and end up caring for them from a distance.

kisaki is a red flag who wants to keep control of his omega but at the same, can't keep the conversation going because of his sweaty hands and sloppy speech. however, while some alphas are okay with appearing weaker, kisaki hates that and absolutely despises the way you make him feel. he has little outbursts here and there if you jokingly bring it up.

he just can't wait to make you his, turn you into a submissive omega who won't dare mock him anymore whenever he gets nervous. but for now, he'll settle for the photos he took of you and your faint scent of honey and candy lingering on his jacket after you grabbed his arms.

· · ୨୧ · ·

𐙚. N° 8 : ALPHA! SHION

shion isn't exactly pathetic, he's just a dumb alpha who absolutely can't resist your manipulation and mind games. I don't remember where exactly I saw this, but it's somehow popular in the fandom (I think?) that shion is a bit of a himbo, and I agree.

he's got the muscles, but honestly, you outbrain him easily. yes, he's aggressive and yes, he does bark and bite. but not towards his omega! he follows exactly what you say without even fully grasping the whole situation, point someone with your finger and you can be sure shion is jumping on him, convinced he offended you. his protectiveness is just genuine and has that comical simplicity.

he might overcomplicate your relationships with others and see a rival in any of them. you have to be careful with your words just in case he misunderstands them and causes a huge ruckus.

�� · · ୨୧ · ·

𐙚. N° 9 : ALPHA! KAZUTORA

similarly, kazutora isn't exactly pathetic but has his own special ways of showing he's interested which would make him worthy of the 9th place.

alpha kazutora who's absolutely wrecked and deranged by his background and relationship with mikey, can do no good. still, he has learned ways to control himself as to not scare you off. which is why he'd rather stay away from you and instead, look at you from a distance. he's very subtle actually so you won't ever catch him staring.

but what makes him slightly pathetic is how delusional he is about your relationship while still being insecure. he'll get aggressive at times when he senses a tiny bit of disinterest from you and get mad. he's toxic and hopeless, but can't make up his mind to leave you alone. his contradictory spirit is very hard to grasp, but what's clear is his dependance on you, his innocent omega. he's constantly checking and making sure you love him, asking questions he expects only one answer to. he's jealous and paranoid, often clinging to you and asking for your forgiveness if his possessiveness pushed him to go too far.

overall, it's his emotional instability which makes kazutora pathetic.

· · ୨୧ · ·

𐙚. N° 10 : ALPHA! HANMA

hanma isn't pathetic at all, but I had to find someone for the last one sooo.

he isn't pathetic but he just has little to no regard to his dignity as an alpha and as a person. he likes the thrill of trying new things and getting out of his comfort zone, which is exactly what his sweet omega urges him to.

you like that side of hanma, you can do whatever and he'll let you, simply because he enjoys the unexpected, being surprised and not being stuck in a routine.

you can be temperamental, vulgar and mean all you want, he'll just laugh because that's unusual for an omega. his ego won't get hurt because he's confident in himself, he can fight, is part of a gang and has a lot of connections, pleasing his omega by doing a few shameful tricks is far from being degrading in his eyes.

but that only works if you also let him play with you however he wants. so with hanma, it's more like, how far are you ready to take it. you're not necessarily on top and you'll find out soon enough that he's the one with the less limits, which can be scary something.

130 notes · View notes

evansbby · 2 years

Text

𝐥𝐞𝐭'𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲! (𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐨 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞) (𝒑𝒐𝒚𝒕 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒃𝒃𝒍𝒆)

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dark alpha!Steve Rogers x naive omega!reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: dark!Steve, possessive Steve, alcohol consumption, mentions of: inebriation. 18+ minors dni!

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Steve and omega find themselves at yet another frat party.

“You having fun, baby?” Steve whispers in your ear before he resumes pressing kisses down your neck. He’s got an almost finished beer in one hand, but his other hand is free to fondle you. He rubs up and down your bare arm before his fingers settle on your thigh and give it a squeeze.

You’re at another frat party with Steve, and they’ve become slightly more bearable now. But the loud, thumping music and the bazillion bodies crammed into one frat house still make you extremely nervous. As does the copious amounts of alcohol that everyone around you seems to be downing — especially Steve, who’s consumed about seven beers, plus plenty of shots (yes, you were keeping track).

“It’s alright.” You answer his question, hoping no one is watching while Steve practically devours your face and neck with sloppy kisses. He’s clearly a bit drunk. And of course, very horny, since he’d dragged you into this dim corner to make out about ten minutes ago. And you were thankful for the semi-privacy, because before that he’d been pawing at you and sticking his hands up your dress in front of everyone — which wasn’t ideal but Steve never cared what anyone else thought.

“Mm, doesn’t sound like you’re enjoying yourself.” He muses, bringing his beer up to your lips, “you sure you don’t want a taste, baby? To loosen you up a bit?” His pupils are dark and dilated, but there’s a glint in them all the same as he nudges the can against your lips. “C’mon, omega, one tiny sip?”

“No thank you, Steve,” you say politely, shooting him a pleading look. Alcohol of any kind still scares you and brings back bad memories, but you’re happy that at least Steve’s a happy drunk.

He shrugs and downs it himself. And then his eyes narrow and you follow his gaze towards a bunch of girls in the middle of the room. They’re clearly drunk, stumbling around and climbing on top of a table to dance.

“Stupid sluts.” Steve comments darkly, clutching you closer to him as if he thinks you’ll run and join them or something. “Those are the type of girls who’ll never find a mate. No alpha is interested in slutty attention-seekers like that, you understand?” He strokes your hair like you’re his pet, leaning down to give you another possessive kiss, “You’re lucky you’re nothing like them, baby. You’re sweet and innocent, and—”

“Steve! There you are! I’ve been looking for you all night! I was wondering if you could give me some feedback on my performance in the last football game?”

It’s Jake Jensen. He sidles up to the two of you with an eager grin on his face and a drink in his hand, and Steve mutters a string of curses against your lips.

“Go the fuck away, Jensen. What have I told you about approaching me outside of football?” Steve grunts, glaring meanly at the younger alpha. And then he pulls you closer against him with a firm, possessive arm around your waist.

Jensen’s face falls, “I just thought I played kind of well, you know? Thought I proved myself in your eyes, and I’d love if you could just tell me what you thought—”

“You’re the shittiest player on the team, Jensen.” Steve says nonchalantly and you wince. How mean! And it wasn’t even true, because you’d been to a few of Steve’s practices now and Jake seemed like he was a good player, in your opinion.

“Oh.” Jake looks crestfallen as he turns to leave. But someone bumps into him from behind, and in slow-motion, the drink in Jake’s hand spills all over you, seeping through your dress and soaking you down to the skin.

“JENSEN, YOU FUCKING MORON!” Steve explodes, pushing you behind him before he grabs a shell-shocked Jake by the collar, shaking the poor freshman boy till his glasses fall down his nose. “HOW FUCKING DARE YOU EMBARRASS MY GIRLFRIEND?!”

Jake looks white as a ghost, “I-I didn’t mean to—” he turns to you with a pleading look in his eyes, “I’m sorry! I’m really, really sorry!”

“It’s okay!” You squeak but you’re not sure anyone hears you. Steve growls angrily when he sees that Jake is talking directly to you. But what happens next is even worse. In his panicked state, Jake drunkenly fished out a handkerchief from his pocket and starts dabbing at your drenched dress with it.

Predictably, Steve loses it.

“ARE YOU FUCKING TOUCHING MY GIRLFRIEND, JENSEN? Are you really that fucking stupid?” Steve gives Jake an almighty push that has the younger alpha staggering back with a fearful look in his eyes. And you know that a sober Steve would’ve killed the poor guy, but a drunken Steve still has a lot of wrath despite his sluggish movements. “You think my girl’s gonna feel sorry for you? You think you have a chance with her? Fuckin’ pawing at her like she’s a free piece of ass?!”

You wince before grabbing Steve’s arm and telling him to stop. But it’s no use and everyone knows it. You’re just lucky that the alcohol in Steve’s system has slowed him down a bit, because sober Steve would’ve murdered the poor boy in ten seconds flat.

“I didn’t paw at her, I was just trying to help her!” Jake protests.

“Are you calling me a liar, Jensen?” Steve seethes. “You’ve had your creepy eyes on my girl since day one, don’t think I can’t tell! I’m not fucking blind, you dumbass moron! I’ll have you kicked off the football team for even looking at her! Hell, I’ll have you fucking expelled, even. How does that sound, dumbass?” He shakes the poor freshman by his collar, “huh? How does that fucking sound??”

Jake looks like he’s about to cry, or piss himself out of fear. Thankfully, that’s when a few other alphas from the football team intervene. It takes both Thor and Sam to pry Steve off of Jensen, and you see Sam whisper something in Steve’s ear as Thor leads Jake away.

“Can you take him away to cool off somewhere?” Sam’s voice snaps you out of your frozen state and you nod, happy to be of some use.

Steve is drunker than you originally thought, and helping his considerably larger, 6’6 frame down the hallway takes every ounce of your strength — which isn’t a lot to begin with.

“Can you believe Jensen thinks he has a chance with you?” Steve scoffs, slurring his words as he leans against you. You thank your lucky stars that he can still keep himself up somewhat, because if he put even an ounce more of weight against you, you’d probably both end up on the floor.

“Flirting with my omega right in front of my fucking eyes!” Steve fumes, more to himself now as you both navigate down this random hallway. You don’t even know where you’re meant to be taking him—you just want to get him as far away from Jake and more alcohol as possible.

“You’re the prettiest girl on campus, as if he ever stood a chance. I should shove his fucking glasses up his ass for touching you like that. Son of a bitch.”

The compliment makes you pause, your heart lifting. Steve thought you were the prettiest girl on campus? Well, he was drunk and not thinking clearly, because it obviously wasn’t true. Not when his ex looked like a supermodel.

You don’t have time to ponder over his words, however, because the big alpha stumbles just as soon as your fingers curl around a random doorknob, and both of you fall into a bathroom that’s thankfully unoccupied.

“Aha! You dragged me in here so we could fuck, didn’t you?” Steve’s eyes twinkle with mischief as he reaches down to pinch your ass. You yelp softly, but remember not to bat his hand away because you’re not allowed to do that - whether he’s drunk or sober, it doesn’t matter.

“Wh-What, no!” You protest but he’s not listening. He grabs you by the hips and yanks you forward, flipping the lid of the toilet seat down before taking a seat and pulling you into his lap.

“Aww, my little baby omega got horny at the party, so you decided to take me somewhere private, hm?” He sponges kisses down your neck, hands slipping up to fondle your breasts through your dress. It suddenly makes you acutely aware of how wet the material still is from the drink that was dropped on you earlier, and the stench of alcohol seems to be sticking to your skin.

It’s when Steve starts fingering your panties and pulling them aside that you jump off his lap and make a beeline for the sink.

“I’m sorry, Steve. It’s just... my dress is completely drenched.” You try not to let it affect you but you can feel your lower lip wobble and your eyes begin to water. It’s a weird reaction that’s come out of nowhere, but the strong smell of booze only brings back unsavoury memories of things you really don’t want to remember.

“Come back, omega.” Steve orders you, palming his dick through his jeans. “You got me all hard, baby. Well, I’m always hard when I’m with you, but that’s besides the point. Now get back here.”

You try splashing water on your dress and scrubbing away the smell but all that does is make you feel wetter and even more disgusting. Panic begins to set in, what if the smell never came off? What if you were doomed to spend the rest of the party in this booze-soaked dress? The smell was already taking you back… all you had to do was close your eyes and you were back at home, with all the yelling and screaming and hitting and–

“No, no, no!” You shake your head, sinking down to the floor. It’s only when you try (and fail) to breathe that you realise you’re having a panic attack.

“Hey. Come back to me.” Steve’s voice cuts through your racing thoughts, his warm hands cupping your cheeks and his potent scent helping you breathe. “Come back, omega. I’m right here.”

You feel tiny in his arms as he draws you close, but you can’t help but hug him so hard that he stumbles back a few steps.

“Don’t like the smell.” You whimper against his chest. “It won’t come off my dress, Steve. I’m sorry.” You don’t know why you’re apologising but you have feeling so helpless and panicked. All you want is to go home and take a warm shower where you scrub yourself raw to get this smell off of you.

“Well, that’s an easy fix.”

Steve rips your dress in half. One second, it’s on your body. The next second, you’re standing there in your underwear, the material of your dress torn in two sorry-looking rags in either of Steve’s hands. Your alpha smirks triumphantly, as if he’s just solved world peace and world hunger all in one night. “See? Problem solved.”

“B-But how will I get home? I have nothing else to wear!”

Your alpha shrugs off his own sweatshirt and pops it over your head. And it’s like every single worry dissipates from your mind once the soft, heavy material of his sweatshirt hits your skin. It’s thick and of good quality, and so much cosier than the tight dress you’d had on. Plus, it smells absolutely heavenly.

“Thank you.” You hug him again, pressing your face against his bare chest. On any normal occasion, you’d be way too shy to show this much affection to him. You have problems giving him simple eye contact and holding his hand, hugging him is something you can’t even imagine doing off your own accord. But you’re so thankful to have the alcohol-soaked dress away from you, that Steve may as well be your knight in shining armour right now.

A very drunk knight in shining armour.

“See, there isn’t a problem I can’t solve.” Steve boasts, hugging you back and kissing the top of your head. He’s always touchy with you but it’s usually a lot more lewd. This, standing here hugging in a stranger’s bathroom, slightly swaying together, it feels a lot more intimate. Romantic, even.

He half carries you to the bathtub, and you let out a squeak of protest when he casually just settles down inside it. Lying down and pulling you on top of him, your back to his chest. You giggle, “Steve! You have a huge, king-sized bed at home, you don’t need to sleep here!” (You’re hopeful that he might call an uber and take you home because you’ve had about enough of this party).

Steve booms with laughter, “Home? What am I, a pussy? Let’s just rest our eyes, and then we’ll go back downstairs and party some more.”

He doesn’t rest his eyes, however. For the next five minutes, you lie there while he just… stares at you. His blue eyes dilated till they’re practically black, blinking down at you where you lie on his chest. But you’re far too cosy to feel uncomfortable, with the combined heat of Steve’s bare skin and the sweatshirt you’re wearing keeping you cocooned in delicious warmth. You just wish the alcohol-stench memories would go away, because they keep flashing inside your head every time your eyes grow heavy.

“You’ve still got that look on your face.” Steve muses, heavy hand drunkenly tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

You look up at him imploringly, “What look?”

“Your nightmare face.” Steve says matter-of-factly, wrapping his arms around you even tighter as your head snaps upwards.

“My wh-what?”

“Your nightmare face. You do it all the time in your sleep. You start frowning and whimpering.” Steve shrugs, tracing the planes of your face with his pointer finger. Stroking your cheekbone before going down to rub over your bottom lip. “A lot of the time, you start doing it when I get up early to go to the gym. But then I just throw your toy at you and it seems to work because you calm down.”

You can’t quite wrap your head around what you’re hearing, “M-My toy?”

Steve rolls his eyes, “The little fluffy guy. Steve Junior or whatever.” He bats his hand dismissively and knocks over a bottle of shampoo and a bodywash, which he seems to find hilarious because he bursts out laughing, “Whoops.”

“I’m sorry!” You blurt out, feeling your palms begin to sweat. “I didn’t realise I had a nightmare face, and it’s not your job to have to take care of me when I… do all that.”

He kisses you, lips soft as a pillow as they work against yours. It amazes you how sweetly Steve kisses you sometimes, and how tender and careful he’s being right now despite the fact that he’s so drunk. Even the taste of alcohol on his tongue doesn’t seem to bother you because it’s him, and you can’t get enough of him.

“I wish I knew what gets you so scared every night.” He whispers against your lips, cupping your face and holding you close. He takes a deep breath, his long lashes fanning his cheekbones as he strokes your cheeks. “I hope it’s not me.”

“It’s not.” You breathe, but it’s swallowed by his kiss, which is more passionate and deeper now as he begins to pull you closer to him. His hands slip up the sweatshirt you have on, cupping your ass and giving it a squeeze. And that’s when you know that the tender moment is over, and Steve is horny once more.

“Just a quickie,” Steve murmurs excitedly, and it’s crazy how quickly his mind has jumped to sex, and you wonder if he’ll remember how sweet he was just a few seconds ago. It made your heart skip a beat, but now he’s trying to peel your clothes off. “C’mon, baby. Gotta be inside you right now. Gotta–”

The bathroom door crashes open at the exact moment, and Steve lets out a string of curse words under his breathe as your eyes register who it is…

“Gotta pee, gotta pee, gotta pee!” Jake Jensen mutters to himself, clearly unaware that he’s not alone in the bathroom. The sound of him unzipping his fly has you gasping and covering your eyes as Steve jumps to his feet and drags you up with him.

“JENSEN, DON’T YOU DARE WHIP YOUR DICK OUT IN FRONT OF MY GIRLFRIEND, OR ELSE I’LL GOUGE YOUR FUCKING EYES OUT!”

THE END FUK BYEEEEEE IDK WHAT THIS WAS I’M NOT TOO PROUD OF IT, I JUST... IDK HOW TO WRITE STEVE IN DRABBLES BC I DON’T WANT TO DEVELOP HIS CHARACTER, SINCE THAT IS FOR THE MAIN FIC!!!! IDEK YALL FUCKKKKK BYE

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers #chris evans #poyt drabble

2K notes · View notes

kookieskookiejar · 1 year

Text

Alpha! Jeongguk x Omega! Reader

This is a part two of Don't Blame Me, but can be read as a standalone as well :))

Synopsis:

It's been two years since you've moved in with Jeongguk, and since then, the global tour your dance academy was on has since ended long ago, allowing you to have more time to spend with your boyfriend. However, Jeongguk still feels like the two of you have been going around in circles in terms of where your relationship is at. Should Jeongguk make a move to ask you about it? Or is he just being worried for no reason and should just let the relationship grow at its own pace?

Warnings: unprotected s*x, upcoming rut mating, marking, knotting, bre*ding k*nk, really fluffy.

A/N: sorry this took soooo long, mental health has not been looking good lately so...yeah, I hope you guys like this!

Everyday Jeongguk wakes up feeling like the luckiest man in the universe, he can’t believe it’s been two years since you’ve moved in with him.

Your job hasn’t gotten any less busy, and Jeongguk respects that, he’s gotten busier lately too, and recently he just wrapped up a long term project, and now they’re out to celebrate with his friends, and that consists of you, his sister, Jihyo, his Namjoon hyung, and his girlfriend of two years now, yes, the resident third wheeler of the friend group is finally dating, Jihyo’s still doesn’t want to settle down yet, and that’s perfectly fine, in Jeongguk’s opinion, she needs some growing up to do before she sends someone to therapy.

To put things in perspective, he feels like everyone around him, other than his sister, have started the next chapter of their lives, okay maybe that’s a stretch, he’s just feeling a bit stagnant with you after hearing Namjoon talk about how he and his girlfriend are planning on getting a matching couple tattoo after sealing their mating mark.

Is it considered quick to seal the mating mark after two years? Maybe, but they are planning to get married next year, so it wasn’t a hasty decision, Jihyo even chastised them for making the decision only after two years, to which she deemed, too impulsive, so maybe two years is seen as hasty in this time and age, but that doesn’t make Jeongguk feel all that much better about the pace between you and him, not that he’d ever voice that out, he knows you want to take things slowly, you’ve always been a build the foundation type of person.

However, you and Jeongguk have been dating for four years now, and you haven’t brought up about the mating marks before, you did talk about it briefly, but it wasn’t even a serious conversation, although you sounded very much sincere.

So now Jeongguk’s sulking in the pub where all his friends are laughing about something they’re reading on Jihyo’s phone, absently, a pout is on his lips, and his hyung notices it immediately, snapping Jeongguk’s attention away from staring at the rustic decor of the pub.

“Hey, you’re tired, aren’t you? You haven’t been talking all that much tonight,” Namjoon points out, his brows furrowed, he’s always seen Jeongguk as his little brother, brothers from a different mother.

“Nah, I’m okay, I was just spacing out,” Jeongguk dismisses, finishing his drink.

“We can leave if you want,” you say, immediately, preparing to get up from your seat, grabbing your purse.

“Yah, he said he’s gonna buy us drinks with his bonus, don’t you try skimming out on us,” Jihyo complains, arms crossed.

“He’s tired, Jihyo ah, I’ll buy you drinks next time okay,” you promise with that sweet voice you use to get things out of both the siblings, something that Jeongguk can never say no to, to which his sister sighs, nodding begrudgingly.

“Be grateful she loves you, can’t believe my brother stole my best friend,” she says, obviously joking, and Jeongguk nods absentmindedly, letting you lead him out of the pub.

Jeongguk heads home to sleep off the fatigue, but it was probably due to his bad mood and the alcohol that made him sleepy.

When Jeongguk woke up the next morning, he was feeling hot, but it wasn’t out of the ordinary to him, it is summer after all, but what had him questioning was the fact that you were cooking breakfast in the kitchen instead of going for your morning run with Jihyo.

Jeongguk clambers out of bed, messy hair and everything, hurrying to wash up, eager to have your cooking as breakfast.

“Hey. you’re up earlier than expected,” you joke when Jeongguk wraps his arms around your waist, his nose buried in your neck, lips almost slobbering near where your mating mark should be.

“It’s 9.30, of course I’m up,” Jeongguk says with a whiny voice, you just love to tease him, says that he sounds and looks cute when you do, so he indulges you.

“I don’t know, I thought you’d be more tired when you’re near your rut.”

Jeongguk freezes up at your comment, he was so busy that he hadn’t even noticed his scent had some minor changes over time, and he doused himself in cologne last night, craving for the scent of fresh laundry over his natural scent, so that’s probably why his friends hadn’t noticed.

“I didn’t want to tell you because I know you’d tell me to sleepover at Jihyo’s,” you say, turning around to run your hands over Jeongguk’s arms comfortingly, the act so sweet, but it instantly has Jeongguk hard.

“But, we, what if I accidentally mark you? What if your heat gets triggered? Then we’d have to-

“Hey, I’m ready, and I’m ready to have our mating marks now, I think it’s time, if you think you’re ready,” you reassured, you know he’s wanted this for quite some time now, but you were nervous, it isn’t an easy decision, choosing to be connected to someone in the closest way possible.

“But you’ll go into heat a bit later, don’t you have any performances lined up?” Jeongguk asked, eyes darting to every corner of your face to make sure you weren’t doing this out of obligation.

“I called out of work once I realised you were going into rut, and I’m really ready, Jeongguk, unless you’re not,” you look at him quizzically, but both of you know there’s no malice behind your tone, and the slight bossiness of your tone is certainly waking him up in more ways than one.

“How long till the brownies are done?” Jeongguk asked with a fluttering heart, he loves your brownies, and making it for breakfast is weird, but you love how weird he is, and you actively indulge in his quirkiness.

“About 20 minutes, think you could make me cum before they’re done?” you ask with a challenging tone, quickly taking off your apron.

“You bet,” Jeongguk says before he wraps his arms around your thighs, carrying you back to the bedroom where he emerged from not too long ago.

Jeongguk throws you on the bed lightly, getting a giggle out of you at the bounciness of the bed.

“Let’s see if you’ll be laughing in a bit, baby,” Jeongguk teases before he captures your lips with his, his lips still taste minty fresh from brushing his teeth.

Jeongguk breaks off the kiss to take off his shirt, his abs looking like they’re sculpted by greek gods under the morning rays.

Jeongguk manhandles you onto his thighs, he’s not a horny teenage alpha who can’t control his urges, but he just enjoys the process of having your cute butt grinding on his clothed cock.

You got the message quickly, rotating your hips in circular motions, arousal dampening Jeongguk’s sweatpants once his length starts to grow under your ministrations, getting turned on by the fact that you’re the only one with this sort of power over him.

“I need you fuck me, Jeongguk, 20 minutes, remember?” you remind him after having caught a whiff of the scent of chocolate mixing with your scents.

“Yeah, sure, baby,” Jeongguk promises, tugging your shirt up to reveal your bare breasts, your nipples pebbling up from the cool air of your shared bedroom, the AC still lingering in the air after you turned it off before leaving the room, catching the attention of your boyfriend, who quickly envelopes the closest nipple he could get to, sucking diligently, his other hand occupying your other boob, twisting, sucking, and licking, your back arching off into his hold, his free hand’s fingers dipping into the curve of your back, he tightens his hold on you before he ceases all actions.

“Present yourself, baby,” Jeongguk says, his voice dropping into a lower octave, his eyes flashing red, he’s not using his alpha voice, Jeongguk would rather chop off his dick than force you into having sex with him, he just knows you get your panties drenched whenever you hear his ‘sexy voice’, as you often call it, which is why you’re quick to get into position, hands and knees on the bed with your ass perched high for Jeongguk’s taking.

Jeongguk mutters curses under his breath at the sight of you, your pretty pussy shining with arousal that flows down to your smooth thighs, Jeongguk is definitely a lucky man.

When he starts dipping his fingers into your core, you whine.

“Just put it in, Guk, I’m ready,” you complain with a whine as you wiggle your butt enticingly, and it worked like magic, his hands smacking one of your cheeks, that recoil is going to kill him.

Then you feel it, the blunt tip finally breaching your walls, if your heat hasn’t started, it definitely has, with the way you get wetter with every inch Jeongguk feeds you, your omega accommodating to your alpha naturally.

When Jeongguk finally sinks his entire length into you, your toes curl at the feeling of being full.

“Can I move, baby?” Jeongguk asks, he knows the two of you are in a time crunch, but he’d rather let his favourite dessert burn than hurt you in any way.

“Yeah you can move,” you say breathlessly, Jeongguk steals your breath away at any situation, whether it’s because he’s fresh out of the shower, dressed up for a date, or merely cooking, he looks flawless executing what he does, especially in bed.

Jeongguk starts off with shallow thrusts, biting on his lower lip at the way your walls hug him right back deeper at every movement.

When Jeongguk feels your walls finally accommodating his size, he increases the pace of his thrusts, groaning when he feels you clenching onto his length when he finally hits that sweet spot that has you whining and body coursing in pleasurable ecstasy, your back arching into his touch, the sight of your round ass catching his attention, smacking your ass, hands grasping for a bit before he lets go, choosing to make his way to your pretty little clit.

Jeongguk knows you’re close, it’s written in the way you’re gripping him in an almost death grip.

“Cum for me, baby, need you to drench this cock so I can pop my knot inside you, fill you up with pups,” Jeongguk says with a groan by your ear before he feels his knot swelling, the added girth pushes you over the edge, your body spasming as you feel your breath being knocked out of you.

Soon after, Jeongguk’s knot starts to deflate, gushes of cum spilling into your womb, and that feeling kick starts this carnal need inside you.

“Need you to mark me, Guk, I’m ready, ready to be your mate,” you confess, still clenching onto him.

Jeongguk halts his movements, but the jerk of his cock gives him away.

“Please, your omega needs you,” you plead, stretching your neck to reveal the tempting expanse of your neck.

“Baby, we should talk about this-

“No, please, I’ve thought about this for a long time now, I’m ready,” you reassured.

“O-okay,” Jeongguk finally agrees, his alpha growling in agreement.

Jeongguk continues on with shallow thrusts while he rubs your clit in quick circles when he finally bites down on your neck, sealing the two of you together, and you would’ve never imagined this feeling.

The feeling of a weight lifted off, your omega that used to feel so restless, now being a part of you and your alpha.

Jeongguk quickly laps up the wound, easing the healing process before he pulls you sideways, wrapping his arms around your figure.

You curl up next to him seamlessly, sighing in contentment.

“When we’re done eating the brownies and your heat strikes again, you have to promise to give me my mating mark too,” Jeongguk says with a slight whine to his voice, the alpha image dissolving right before your eyes.

You weren’t surprised he asked for his own mating mark, the last time you guys discussed about mating marks, he had insisted on you marking him.

“I promise, now hurry up and deflate your knot or my brownies are really going to burn,” you say with a huff.

“Hush, there’s still 9 minutes left, we can just waddle to the oven together,” Jeongguk teases, which earns him a playful slap on his butt that’s conveniently within reach.

You definitely won’t regret being Jeongguk’s mate.

#jungkook smut #bts fluff #bts imagines #bts smut #jungkook #jungkook fluff #bts x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook imagines #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts fanfic

491 notes · View notes

biteofcherry · 1 year

Note

Hi! ALPHA STEVEEEEE oh my actual days. i have an unhealthy attachement to GoT. If his omega was feeling insecure how would he react? I feel like he would be completely flabbergasted and considering how she is very much independent she might not tell him at first. but if he found out...

A study

alpha!Steve Rogers x omega female reader

warnings: none; fluffy hurt/comfort; alpha has unique ways of improving your mood; but there's also understanding and communication; alpha Steve is a warning okay?

Grain of Truth Masterlist

Main Masterlist

"I guess this one could work," you shrugged, watching yourself in the mirror with growing resentment.

Your words reached Steve with quite a delay. He was staring at you, his mind occupied with images of ripping the fabric off of your body to get his hands on the magnificence of your curves and softness.

You looked absolutely fantastic in that dress - and it wasn't even some revealing, super sexy evening gown, but rather a chic, modest piece. Perfect for attending a conference.

And when you first saw that dress on the display as you passed the shop, you seemed to love it. How could it change so quickly?

Steve's gaze dragged up your body until he met your eyes in the mirror.

It was the very first time you showed annoyance with your looks, even if occasionally you fussed about not fitting into your favorite clothes right before the heat, because your body was accumulating fat to survive days of endless fucking.

"What is it?" Steve's brows furrowed as he took a step closer and you felt the warmth of his body at your back.

His hands slipped onto your hips and he rested his chin on top of your head as he held your gaze in the reflection.

"Nothing," you shrugged again, instinctively leaning into your alpha's embrace. "It's a good dress, but it doesn't really matter, right?"

Steve sensed that clearly it did matter, so he waited patiently for you to elaborate.

"I just have one meaningless presentation, nobody will pay attention to it beside just politely listening and clapping after I'm done." You tried to play it cool, like it didn't bother you that there was going to be a different star at the conference.

"Unlike Hope," you muttered, your tone more bitter than you wanted to let on.

Hope was- not exactly a friend, but not an enemy either.

You went to the same university, shared some mutual friends and occasionally worked on the same projects before graduation. Then you pursued your career goals while Hope went on to rock the world with everything that she had.

She was stunning, always had a line of men and women trailing behind her with dreams of spending time with her. She had a brilliant mind, too. Honestly, she had it all, in your opinion.

Including the freedom of not being driven by designation and hormones, since she was a beta.

As it turned out, Hope now had not one but three degrees and steered her career toward medical science for the military purposes. You were proud of how you were actually helping people day to day, running your small research, but it suddenly felt less significant compared to Hope's straight road to saving the world.

When you stumbled into her an hour ago, your brief, quite warm conversation revealed she was going to be the mysterious grand star at the conference you were also attending.

And she too was searching for an outfit. Judging by the label on the bag she was carrying, Hope was going to have something designer. Perhaps even custom fitted.

Then it turned out Steve was familiar with one of her projects; he saw it used in action when back in the military.

They switched feedback and information about Hope's upgrades so flawlessly and passionately, and you just stood there with a smile, nodding your head in pretend-interest.

Hope had it all. Still. Just like she had in uni.

Including attention of your mate.

You knew Steve loved you, you didn't fear him leaving you to chase anyone else. But love didn't mean he was impressed, or interested in your meager career.

The only profit you'd gain from presenting your study at the conference would be Maria's proud face as she added to your clinic's website information about running research acknowledged at international conferences.

"Hope?" One of Steve's eyebrows quirked up, confusion settling on his face. "That beta we ran into?"

"Yes, that beta whose great improvements to the battlefield medicine-" you mocked Steve's voice- "you were complimenting less than an hour ago," you glared at him, barely stopping yourself from stomping on his foot.

"Sweet brat," Steve's hands tightened their grip on your hips, an almost painful reminder to watch your tone.

"I was a Captain in the Army and sometimes on missions things got really bad. I simply appreciate that Hope's projects helped to save lives of some of my men."

"I know her work is important." You grit out, crossing your arms over your chest. "Which is why I know everyone will look forward to her presentation and discussion panel with her. So I don't need to bother stressing over my showing."

Steve recited the full title of your presentation and research, showing you he was always paying attention to what was important to you.

"Hope's work may be desired by the big, important institutions," he said, "but it's your research that has the potential of aiding people nationally, in their day to day struggles."

Your heart melted at the conviction in Steve's voice. Through the bond you sensed a steady rhythm and a flush of fiery pride that your alpha felt about your work.

"And you know what else?" Steve bent down a little, resting his chin in the crook of your neck, his lips brushing your cheek.

"Hope has nothing beyond her career. Beneath the smell of perfume, there's only the scent of the lab on her. No partner, neither long term nor a fuckbuddy. No remnants of anyone familiar, like a friend or a pet."

"Maybe she chose it that way," Steve mused, rubbing soothing circles on your hips with his thumbs, "or maybe she spends the rest of her day being as fussy as you, feeling bitter that she doesn't have a mate and love like you."

You sighed softly, uncrossing your arms. You rested your hands atop Steve's forearms, caressing his warm skin.

You tilted your head slightly as your placated insecurities slowly retreated, living room to the mentioned fussy streak. That still wasn't entirely gone, strumming inside you with a need to act out.

"So you were checking her scent?" It was a deliberate poke, delivered with a glare.

Steve huffed and closed his eyes for a second. Then he straightened and in one swift move twirled you around.

He pushed you back against the mirror, gripping the back of your neck with one of his large hands.

"If you're sporting for a spanking until you sob all your frustration and insecurities out, I will happily arrange it." His voice remained soft, but dropped to that low octave a breath away from a growl.

"Or maybe we can make you more excited on that stage?" You gulped nervously as Steve's eyes darkened.

His lips trailed along your jaw, teeth just barely grazing your skin.

"You'll be giving your lecture wearing nothing but that pretty dress, while I sit in the first row with your panties in my pocket. Knowing that as soon as you're done with your presentation, I'm going to be fucking you full of my cum..."

Steve nipped your chin in reprimand when your eyes closed, the sting making you open them instantly.

"So that when you do the rounds at the banquet later that beta you're jealous off knows that you've won something she'll never have. A true mate."

Your clamped your hands on Steve's shoulders, gripping the fabric of his too tight t-shirt.

"You can't solve everything with sex, you know," you said breathlessly, clenching your thighs as you felt Steve's free hand slide up the pencil skirt of the dress you were trying on.

"How about we conduct a longitudinal study on that?" Steve chuckled and slapped your thigh.

#steve rogers x reader #alpha!steve rogers #alpha!steve rogrs x omega female reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers imagine #alpha steve rogers x omega female reader #a/b/o dynamics #grain of truth #my writing

607 notes · View notes

therhythmafterthesummer · 1 year

Text

Afraid to Lose You (M) ~Bang Chan

Pairing: Werewolf!Chan x Human!F.Reader Themes: Supernatural/Fantasy AU | Smut | Fluff | bit Angsty | Established Relationship | Soulmate AU Word Count: ~9k | AO3 Synopsis: The aftermath of an argument with a supernatural being was something no one ever prepared you for, much less if that supernatural being was someone you were romantically involved with. You figured it’d happen eventually, you just weren’t aware of how much it could hurt. [This is an instalment of my WereRoomies series. You don’t particularly need to read the other instalments to understand this, but it’ll add more depth to the story if you do, so I highly recommend it~]. Warnings: chubby/curvy MC · usage of the word ‘fat’ in a neutral/positive manner · mandatory Christopher Is Intense warning, but the reader is also Intense so it’s very mutual · couple arguments · they’re in love, your honour · graphic depictions of intercourse (smut warnings under the cut) .

Author’s Note: i felt like portraying this side of our dearest pack parents. apologies in advance. special thanks to @cursed-mars-bars for reading this and sharing her thoughts with me💜

Due to all the abovementioned warnings, this story is intended for an adult audience only. Minors please do not interact.

Chris’ WereRoomies Instalments: It’s Cold Out · Rut · Alpha Dog · It’s Warm In · Love is Easy · Afraid to Lose You. For extra drabbles, check out the series masterlist.

Smut Warnings: oral [M.Rec] · fingering [F.Rec] · unprotected penetration [piv. no barrier method, but the reader is presumed to be on birth control] · creampie.

Disclaimer: the story represented in this work does not represent Stray Kids in any way; anything described in this story and all actions performed by the characters are purely fictional, this was created just for good fun.

It was rare for you and Chris to have disagreements, but they did happen. You’d argue sometimes, over small things that usually could be resolved by taking some time to cool down and talk it out after. It was usually fine.

What happened just a few minutes ago was completely unprecedented.

You weren’t really sure how it all got out of hand so quickly. It was probably the fact that Chris had arrived home from work at midnight, starving and tired out of his mind, the fact that you decided to talk about such a sensitive topic right then and there, right as he munched on a sandwich.

‘What if you turn me? Wouldn’t that be better?’ You’d had those questions on the back of your mind for a while now, mulling on the possibility of your boyfriend turning you into a werewolf, into what he himself was. To you, it made more sense, since you were essentially leading a pack with him. You being human, in your mind, made it so there were certain things you couldn’t do, or activities you couldn’t participate in, and, sometimes, you’d admit you got a bit insecure about it.

‘Absolutely not’, you’d never heard Chris say something so firmly, so incredibly serious.

For some reason, you got defensive, Chris got defensive, and at some point everything started escalating. If you thought about it in depth, it was probably the time of day, the fact that you were both tired.

He was so stubborn, and, in that moment, whatever he told you felt just so diminishing, something he’d never ever made you feel, something he never did. Logically, you knew Chris valued you and your opinions, but tonight, it seemed like logic wasn’t leading his train of thought, nor yours.

‘What the fuck’s gotten into you? Why’s this suddenly a problem?’ He’d asked at some point, probably louder than he had intended to, and, it just made you answer louder in return.

It wasn’t just suddenly a problem, it had always been a problem. Or, at least, it seemed like that to you right then, when you were talking to him.

‘I don’t want you to turn!’

‘And what if I do want to?!’ You’d countered, because, ultimately, wasn’t what you wanted what mattered most?

‘Are you out of your mind?!’

Chris never ever spoke to you like that, and maybe that was why you got defensive.

‘So if I don’t do what you want I’m out of my mind?!’

‘That’s not what I said!’

It was a seemingly endless back and forth, an endless loop of both you and him further rubbing salt in the freshly open wound. Saying things you didn’t mean, in ways that were nowhere near appropriate, until you just couldn’t take it anymore.

“That’s it. I’m fucking leaving”, you took your phone and your keys, and it was just as you were putting your shoes on that Chris caught up to you.

“Where the fuck are you going?!”

“Away!” You turned to look at him. You weren’t really sure how to read the expression on his face. Angry? Tired? Annoyed? Hurt? You honestly couldn’t reason it too much, you were too preoccupied trying not to cry. Because you’d be damned if you cried right now. “Can’t stand being near you right now”.

“But–!”

“I said I’m leaving”, you interrupted him, still speaking louder than you normally would, but no longer shouting, at least. “I need space, Christopher”.

Chris didn’t follow you after you stepped out of your flat and slammed the door closed. You knew he wouldn’t, and you honestly didn’t want him to, it would’ve probably made everything so much worse.

You knew where you wanted to go, but there was no way you could get there at this time without a car. So you made your way to Changbin’s. If they turned you down you’d try someone else, but, even in the unstable state of your mind, you knew they wouldn’t.

So, as soon as you stood in front of Changbin’s door, you knocked. It was late, you were well aware of that, but there was only one person you felt like you could go to right now, and you were sure they wouldn’t hold it against you.

When Changbin’s girlfriend opened the door, hair mussed, wearing nothing but a nightgown, you hauled yourself at her, hugging her tightly and burying your face in the crook of her neck. You couldn’t stop the tears anymore, it was too late for that.

She was a bit taken aback, but she immediately hugged you back, mumbling a quiet, and very, very sleepy ‘Hey, honey, what’s wrong? What happened?’

You couldn’t mutter a single word, you just sobbed against her shoulder as she waddled back into the flat with you in her arms, closing the door quietly behind her.

When you finally managed to pull yourself away from her shoulder, she cradled your face in her hands, wiping your tears away, but they wouldn’t stop. “Baby, what happened?”

You just shook your head, hugging her again.

“Is Chris okay?” You heard Changbin mumble from somewhere behind you, and you shook your head again, not even looking at him, getting your friend’s shoulder drenched in your tears.

Changbin sighed, but he didn’t sound annoyed. If anything, it was a worried sigh. After a few moments of silence, you heard the front door open and close.

“He’s gone”, Changbin’s girlfriend mumbled, patting your shoulder. “Babe, talk to me. Can’t help you if you don’t”.

With a deep, shaky breath, you finally pulled yourself away from her shoulder so you could look at her.

Wiping the trail of tears on your cheeks, you mumbled, “I need a favour…”

Being in your mother’s house always made you feel safe. Which was why you always ended up here whenever you needed some time to disconnect from the outside world and think about things.

Your mother didn’t even question why you’d appeared in her house in the middle of the night with one of your friends, she simply let you in and offered Changbin’s girlfriend a warm drink and essentially begged her to stay the night because ‘It’s really late, darling. You already drove all the way here, you should rest before you leave…’

You were honestly happy she took the offer. That night, when you finally made it to your childhood room, Changbin’s girlfriend slept with you, hugging you close in an attempt to soothe your aching heart.

On the way here, you’d told her the details of what had happened, of your argument with Chris, and she had been nothing but understanding the entire time. Even if you’d woken her up all of a sudden, she still drove you to your mother’s place when you asked her to, regardless of the time, and without any hesitation.

‘Call me if you need anything. Hm?’ was the last thing she told you the next day before she left, and you honestly couldn’t help but feel immensely grateful. Not only for her help, but for her friendship in general.

Three days had passed since then, and, as you stared up at the ceiling, way past midnight, with your eyes fixed on the spinning fan, you just couldn’t ignore the heavy feeling in your chest.

This was the longest you’d spent without talking to Chris, and you quickly realised you absolutely hated it.

Whenever you felt like you needed to think things through and regroup your feelings you had always tried to pull yourself away from the situation, cool down, and then go back to face it head on and resolve the problem. However, what you hadn’t anticipated was how much you’d hate being away from your home, being away from Chris…

You honestly weren’t sure if it’d been worth it at all. All you’d felt these days was this all-consuming feeling of sadness, coupled with an immeasurable amount of longing. All that introspection you’d done during your stay here was quickly bringing you to the conclusion that things had blown out of proportion.

Turning to look at your bedside table, you stared at the journal you’d found this morning in the bottom drawer of your dresser. From things you’d dreamt, to things that had happened to you at school, to arguments with friends…Reading your thoughts from when you were little was a bit amusing, considering how all your problems from back then seemed so insignificant now. You enjoyed reading them regardless, though.

Taking your phone in your hand, you unlocked it and went to your messaging app. Your eyes fixed on the screen in front of you, re-reading the messages Changbin and Seungmin had sent you this morning.

> BroBin💪: i’m sure you have a very valid reason to not be here > i know it’s only been like 2 days > and i know it’s none of my business > but chris is absolutely miserable > and i just can’t bear seeing him like that > if you asked for space i doubt he’ll reach out to you first > so i’m literally begging you to please consider talking to him

Of course Changbin was worried about Chris. He always was, and you wholeheartedly understood him, but Seungmin’s messages were the ones you’d been mulling over the most.

> Seungminnie🐶: mama > u dont have to respond and i know u prolly wont > no one has said anything > but i noticed ur not here > and christophers moping > are u not talking? > u should talk to him if thats the case > itd be really bad if you dont > i think theres something you should know…

These messages had been staring at you all day. You hadn’t really replied to Changbin, nor Seungmin–just like he’d predicted.

You’d admit you tended to isolate yourself when you needed a breather, even from friends. It was just insanely hard for you to reply to them, maybe irrationally so–not something you were proud of by any means, you were just overwhelmed.

Seungmin’s revelation had been roaming freely in your head since you read his messages… To top it all off, Chris was miserable, and you weren’t that much better, so what was the point of all this?

Going back to your recent chats list, your finger hovered over your conversation with Chris, and you suddenly felt a knot form in your throat just at the sight of his name. That was enough for you to know it was time, you just couldn’t keep running away from this, so, with a racing heart, you clicked on his chat and quickly sent him a few messages, all before your own self-doubt made you recoil.

< You: i’m sorry < for the things i said < you didnt deserve that

Not even twenty seconds after you sent those, you received Chris’ reply, so you replied as well.

> Chris 🐺💕: mind if i drop by ?

< You: no i dont mind

> Chris 🐺💕: be there in around an hour

< You: i’ll be in the backyard with joaquin < just fyi in case you ring the bell and i dont answer < you can just text when youre here

It was a forty-five minute drive from the den to your mother’s house, and that was not accounting for any possible traffic. Just thinking that Chris was making his way to you as soon as you gave him the go-ahead made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. It reminded you that, ultimately, Chris would always respect your boundaries, he’d always lookout for you, and you honestly wanted to cry just thinking about it.

So, you got out of that bed as fast as you could and ran to your bathroom to take the quickest shower you possibly could. You’d honestly barely left your bed the entire time you’d been here–something your mother did comment on, but any of her efforts to get you out of your room were futile.

That shower made you feel as if you’d been reborn. People truly underestimated how a good shower could immensely improve your mood, yourself included. So, with a fresh pair of shorts and the oversized t-shirt you kept in your childhood room’s dresser, you finally made your way to the backyard, and sat on one of the chairs to watch Joaquín chase squirrels around.

Joaquín was your mother’s dog, whose favourite pastime was chasing rodents of all kinds. She adopted him from a shelter around five years ago, so you really didn’t know which breed he was–if any. He was a big dog, with black and brown coat, short haired, and probably one of the friendliest dogs you’d ever met–although, if you thought about it in depth, wouldn’t your boyfriend and your friends be the friendliest dogs you’d ever met? You just chuckled at the thought.

As soon as the one hour mark since you received your boyfriend’s texts passed you started to feel antsy. You’d glance at your phone every couple of minutes, or fiddle with the loose threads of the table cloth in front of you.

You started to worry, too. What if something had happened while Chris was driving here? What if he had an accident and the last thing you did together before it happened was have an argument? What if–

Suddenly, Joaquín bolted out of your sight, and you heard him barking as well as the undeniable sound of your boyfriend’s gentle voice trying to calm him down. “Hey there, buddy. It’s been a while, huh? Shh, yeah, yeah. It’s just me. Yeah, I know you’re excited, but tone it down a bit. You’re gonna wake up the whole neighbourhood at this rate…”

You couldn’t stop the smile from spreading on your face as you heard them talk to each other–as much as Chris talking to your mother’s dog and Joaquín barking at your boyfriend could be considered having a conversation.

Just as you were about to walk back into the house, you heard a thud, and Joaquín quickly made his way to where you were, panting and wagging his tail.

Your boyfriend appeared seconds after, which immediately made Joaquín turn his attention back to him again.

“Hey”, Chris gave you a small smile, and it honestly made your heart skip a beat.

“Hey”, you watched as he instructed Joaquín to go play and give you two some space, to which the dog immediately complied. “I could’ve just met you at the front door, you know? No need to jump over the fence”.

“Very true, but then I wouldn’t have been able to play burglar and dog with Joaquín”, Chris chuckled.

Silence enveloped you, and you simply took in the sight of your boyfriend. He was wearing one of his hoodies, a cap, and some gym shorts, the first items he probably found in the closet before coming here. Most worrying, though, was how pale his face looked.

“Have you gotten any sleep?” You couldn’t help but ask, the bags under his eyes and his overall complexion looked just like they did when he pulled an all-nighter, but somehow much worse.

Chris shrugged. “Have you?”

You hadn’t.

You’d been sleeping horribly.

Every time you tried to sleep you felt like something was missing, and anxiety made your heart feel heavy in your chest. If you did manage to fall asleep, you’d wake up a few hours after, mindlessly seeking your boyfriend’s body heat and finding none of it, which only fed that feeling of uneasiness that had clung to every fibre of your body.

“Not really, no”, you answered with honesty, because there was no point in hiding it. It was clear that you both were having a bad time, and you couldn’t help but feel incredibly guilty. “I’m sorry”.

“I’m sorry, too”, Chris replied simply, taking a step closer to where you were standing, clearly trying his best to not invade your personal space.

It was so weird. Having Chris so physically distant to you, on purpose, was something you weren’t used to anymore, and the more he stayed rooted on the spot, the more you yearned to be enveloped in his warmth, in his scent.

So you took tentative steps towards him, all while Chris just looked at you with the saddest look in his eyes, resembling a kicked puppy. The only other time you could remember seeing this look on Chris’ face was the night you found out he and the rest of your friends were werewolves, right after you’d finished your confrontational conversation in the landing between floors, right after you told him not to follow you when you left.

“I shouldn’t have…spoken to you like that. I really am sorry”, you finally stood in front of him, but not as close as you wished you were.

“I shouldn’t have, either. I was exhausted that day, I let panic flood my brain, and I was being irrational”.

You couldn’t bear the distance anymore, so you reached for him, taking a hold of the front of his hoodie with an admittedly trembling grip. That simple gesture was all it took for Chris to finally move, to finally wrap his arms around your frame and hold you tight against his body. His sigh of relief didn’t go unnoticed, just like the way his muscles seemed to relax as soon as you were within his arms didn’t.

Relief washed over you immediately, especially when you buried your face in the crook of his neck, when you got that faint whiff of sea air that seemed to always emanate from your boyfriend.

“Pretty…” Chris cradled the back of your head, softly caressing your hair, holding you close. “You know I’d give you the world. Anything you asked me for…But this is something I won’t do, and that I beg you to not ask anyone else to do. It’s not certain you’d survive the turning process, and that’s a risk I’m just not willing to take”.

You hummed, moving your hands from his chest to instead wrap your arms around his waist so you could hold him tighter.

“I know you…can get in your head sometimes with this, but trust me, human you is just as adequate as a possible werewolf you. Why risk your life when you’re already perfect just as you are? I just…” Chris’ voice broke a little bit. It made your heart ache and a knot formed in your throat. He tightened his hold, taking a deep breath. “I can’t lose you, baby. I just can’t…Especially if it’s over something that can be avoided”.

“You won’t…” You mumbled against his neck, pressing a quick kiss on his skin. “You’re right…I was in my head. Overthinking…”

Chris hummed, and he pressed a kiss on your temple. “I’m still sorry for how I talked to you”.

“Me, too”, you rubbed your forehead on his shoulder, getting drenched in the smell of your shared home, in the smell of him. “I love you…”

Chris pulled away from you to cup your cheeks. The warmth of his palms on your face almost made your shiver, the soft drag of his thumbs over your skin had your heart beating fast in your chest, and the way he was looking at you, with his pretty eyes all glossy, as if you held his world in your hands, had tears collecting in your eyes.

“I love you. So much. You’re my everything, you know?”

You just nodded, and the second Chris’ lips were on yours you just couldn’t contain the soft whimper that came out of your throat.

Bringing your hands from where they had been wrapped around Chris’ middle, you took his cap off, held it in your hand, and buried the other in his slightly damp hair in one swift movement. Chris hummed, clearly relishing the tender caress of your fingers on his scalp. His tongue made contact with your bottom lip, and you immediately parted your lips to let him into your mouth.

With his hands on the small of your back, Chris simply held you close as he ravished your mouth, almost like he needed to kiss you to keep his heart beating, just like you did. It might’ve been three days, but those three days seemed to have lasted a lifetime, and now that you had your boyfriend’s warmth surrounding you again, you honestly couldn’t care about anything else.

Chris detached his lips from yours, only to reattach them to your cheek, pressing tender kisses on your skin. “Missed you so much, pretty…”

He said those words in a way that made it seem like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders, and you wholeheartedly shared the sentiment. “Missed you, too, baby…”

“Come back home”, he mumbled against your cheekbone before pulling back. He cupped one of your cheeks in his hand, while the other remained on the small of your back. “Our bed just feels so empty and cold when you’re not there. I hate it”.

“I will”, you replied simply, leaning into his tender touch. “Tomorrow, though. It’s too late, baby, and you’ve barely had any sleep. Let’s stay here tonight?”

Chris hummed, pressing a brief kiss on your lips. “Sure. As long as I get to hug you to sleep tonight I don’t care where we stay”.

Chris sent Minho and Changbin a quick message, letting them know he was here with you, and to not turn away any packmate that might need some alpha support tonight–you doubted there’d be any, but it was good they were prepared just in case. You honestly didn’t like that both you and Chris had to be away, but when Minho replied to Chris’ message with a simple ‘👌’ you felt immediately at ease.

“Is your mum sleeping?” Chris asked as soon as you were stepping back into the house, getting out of his shoes.

You shook your head. “She’s not even home. She went out with her friends and had a bit too much to drink, so she’s staying with one of them”.

“So it was just gonna be you and Joaquín in this big house?” Chris turned to look at Joaquín, just as the dog made his way to the sofa. “You would’ve protected my girl if anything happened, right?”

The dog huffed, jumping on the sofa, turning a few times only to finally plop down on one of the ends, on his usual sleeping spot.

Chris just chuckled, shaking his head.

“What’d he say?” You took a hold of your boyfriend’s hand, offering a ‘Good night, Joaco baby’ to your mother’s dog after you sent her a quick text and went through the motions of switching the lights of the living room, right when you walked past him on your way to your room.

“Essentially that he’d die for you”, Chris held your hand tighter. “And that he was happy to see you smile again”.

As Chris had explained it to you, animals didn’t really communicate with words. They gestured, their scents would change, and there was just something in their body language that made it so they could understand each other. It was funny to think that your boyfriend could hold conversations with your mother’s dog like this, especially when you knew that the only reason he was verbally talking to him, with human language, was because Chris wanted you to not feel left out, which you appreciated.

As soon as you made it to your room, you got out of your shorts to sleep only in the tee you were wearing like you usually did. After you pulled back the covers, you laid as close to the wall as possible, leaving enough room for your boyfriend. This bed was smaller than the one back home, so it’d be a tight fit, but you were sure he wouldn’t mind, just like you didn’t–if anything, tonight, you wanted zero space between you and Chris. You’d had enough of that the past three days.

Chris pulled his hoodie over his head, and he haphazardly placed it on your desk. He joined you on the bed after, immediately pulling you against his chest.

“Sleeping in shorts? Who are you and what have you done to my boyfriend?” You couldn’t help but comment, chuckling a little as you started to caress his back.

Chris laughed, the sound a bit muffled against your hair. “I don’t know…being butt-naked at your mum’s doesn’t feel right”.

“Mm…It’s the first time you’re sleeping here, isn’t it? Hadn’t realised”.

Chris hummed, absentmindedly playing with your hair. “First time laying on your childhood bed”.

“It’s more than a childhood bed at this point. I was sleeping here until I moved to your den”, a minute shiver shot down your spine when your boyfriend sneaked a hand under your shirt, slowly dragging it from your hip to your waist, where he settled to lightly squish the soft roll that usually formed there.

“Our den…But still”, Chris pressed a kiss to your forehead, and you scooted closer to him, relishing the drag of his hand over your bare skin. “Missed squishing you, pretty”.

You couldn’t help but chuckle. “That’s why you asked me to be your girlfriend, right? To be your own personal stress ball?”

“Mm. That, and because of your child bearing hips, and this scrumptious fat ass”, he moved his hand from your waist to your bum, patting it lightly, giggling.

“What about my thighs, though?”

“God, don’t mention your thighs. I’ll pop a chub”.

“Ah, of course”, you brought your hand behind him to squeeze his buttock. “You’re just like me, then”.

“See? That’s why we’re perfect for each other”, there was a playful tone in his voice, but you knew that under all his jokes, laid some real feelings, some very deep feelings that you were sure matched your own.

You pulled yourself from his chest to look him in the eyes. A soft smile settled on your lips, and you brought a hand to his face so you could lightly drag your fingertips from his forehead, down the curve of his nose, only to finally catch on his plush bottom lip. “You know…I was reading my childhood journal…I used to write my dreams in that diary. I had forgotten so many of them, honestly. Most of them were all nonsensical shit, but…there’s one that was quite interesting. Wanna hear about it?”

Chris nodded, taking a hold of your hand to press kisses on your palm.

“So, started with me in the foyer putting my shoes on before I left the house. I ended up walking for a long time, until I found myself in a forest. There were faeries flying all around, gnomes mining rocks, leprechauns protecting pots of gold… It was fascinating. It felt like I was walking for hours, until I finally made it to a stream, where I found a wolf. And it was like this wolf and I just…knew each other. It laid down on the grass and I laid down as well, propping my head on him, like it was the fluffiest pillow. Kinda like we do sometimes at home when we’re cold, you know?”

Chris just hummed in confirmation, dragging his lips from your palm to your wrist, where he also pressed a few lingering kisses.

“Knowing what I know now, I’d like to think that wolf was you…” You continued, placing a hand on his chest. He was so warm and his heart was beating so fast–faster than usual… “Like it was you meeting me in my dreams before we even knew what we’d mean to each other”.

“That’s…literally so cute, baby”, Chris mumbled against the skin of your wrist, before he finally pulled it towards his chest, bringing it close to your other hand.

“You’re the wolf of my dreams, Christopher”.

Chris giggled a bit, averting your gaze and biting his lip, looking incredibly adorable once a rosy flush started spreading on his cheeks. You couldn’t help but giggle with him, leaning in to press a brief, lingering kiss on his lips.

“So…Did I miss anything while I was gone?” You asked as soon as you pulled back from the kiss, and Chris sighed, bracing himself for what he was about to tell you.

Apparently, when Changbin left you and his girlfriend in his flat, he’d gone to Chris, knowing he’d be having a bad time. They fought, or, at least, Chris was trying to pick a fight. He seemed to be embarrassed about it now, but he was grateful that Changbin dropped by to check on him regardless, it did help him calm down a bit.

The rest of the pack clearly knew something was wrong, but no one brought it up to Chris, which he was kind of grateful for, but also annoyed by. ‘If they don’t talk to me, it means they’re talking to each other behind my back, which means they were probably feeding all these crazy theories in their heads, you know how the kids are…’

Nothing really out of the ordinary happened besides that. Felix and Hyunjin’s partner dropped by, and apparently also gave Chris a pep talk. ‘Let’s talk alpha to alpha, they said’, Chris chuckled, recalling how she was somehow trying to help him reason his feelings, but scolding him at the same time because he’d hurt you.

You honestly weren’t sure how long you spent talking to Chris, and you honestly didn’t care much, either. You just loved to listen to him speak, and just the mere sound of his voice and his warmth all around you was immensely soothing. It all made your eyes droop and your head sink further into your pillow.

“Baby…” Chris mumbled against your hair after a few moments of silence, and you simply hummed to let him know he had your attention. “I’d like to…feel you. If you’re fine with that”.

Your boyfriend was a big fan of physical contact, especially skin-to-skin contact, which was very convenient for you, considering you also loved to feel him against you at any given moment. So you pulled yourself away from him, pulling your t-shirt over your head and throwing it somewhere by the end of the bed to quickly snuggle back within Chris’ arms.

As soon as you tucked your head under his chin, and your skin made contact with his, Chris sighed. A sigh of relief that perfectly matched your own, followed by a sleepy murmur of ‘That’s more like it. Love you…’

With your boyfriend’s arm under your neck, curled around your shoulders while the other hugged your waist to keep you tight against him, with your legs intertwined as comfortably as you could, laying close to each other on your much too small bed, you finally let Chris’ body heat and overall presence lull you to sleep.

The second you woke up the next morning and felt your boyfriend’s warmth against your back and his strong arm around your waist, you truly felt at ease. You had noticed it was hard for you to sleep without him there, but you hadn’t fully grasped just how much until now.

Taking his hand in yours, you brought it close to your face so you could leisurely press kisses on his fingertips and his palm. It was crazy how much you’d missed Chris in such a short amount of time, but here you were, feeling as if it’d been weeks. It honestly puzzled you a bit, but you couldn’t think too much about it, not when the soft presses of your lips on your boyfriend’s hand seemed to have woken him up.

“Morning…” He mumbled, shuffling a bit to mould his body completely against yours.

“Morning, baby”, you mumbled back, letting go of Chris’ hand when he started to move it away from your face so he could rest it on your belly.

“What time is it?” Chris nuzzled his face on your shoulder, and you couldn’t help but chuckle and squirm a little when his hair tickled your skin with the movement.

“Dunno”, the blackout drapes over your windows made it so you truly had no idea what time it was, and you hadn’t even checked your phone since you texted your mother last night to let her know Chris was here. You honestly didn’t even know where you left it.

Chris just hummed, holding your belly a bit tighter and starting to leave kisses on the skin of your shoulder, effectively kickstarting the butterflies in your stomach, and prompting the next words to come out of your mouth.

“Is it too soon to have makeup sex?”

You heard Chris giggle behind you as soon as you asked the question, and the sound alone made you smile.

“You know if it’s up to me, it’s never too soon for any type of sex”, Chris pressed his crotch further against your ass, letting you feel just how hard he already was. “But I don’t wanna be disrespectful”.

“To whom?” You chuckled, laying your hand on top of his on your tummy.

“To you, silly”, he pressed a kiss on your shoulder. “And your mum. This is her house, after all”.

You couldn’t help but scoff at that. “So that time we came over for her bimonthly barbeque and you sat me on the bathroom counter to eat me out wasn’t disrespectful?”

“That was different!” Chris laughed, nuzzling your shoulder.

You turned in his hold so you could lay face to face next to him. “Mhm, tell me how?”

As soon as he looked at you, Chris went serious. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, but he didn’t say anything. Not until he cupped your cheeks and squished them together with his palms.

“Holy shit. You’re so cute”, you felt heat pool on your cheeks as soon as the words left his mouth. He squished your cheeks further, forcing a pout to form on your lips. “How’d I get so lucky, huh?”

“Babe…” You whined, suddenly feeling bashful under his sparkly gaze.

In an instant, Chris’ lips were on you. He pressed kisses all over your face, making you giggle and squirm a bit in his hold. “God, I don’t wanna wake up without you next to me ever again. I’m so fucked”.

“Hopefully you won’t have to”, you mumbled, melting as soon as your boyfriend pressed a kiss to your lips.

“Hopefully not”, he said simply, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you flush to him.

Chris moved, taking you with him for you to lay on top of him. You shuffled a bit, straddling his hips to lay more comfortably when his lips attached to your neck, kissing and nibbling on your pulse point.

His hands roaming your back, your sides, your ass, squeezing your soft flesh anytime he could, his lips and his tongue on your neck, his unmistakable scent, everything combined had shivers running up and down your spine and butterflies flying freely in your belly. Without even thinking twice about it, you rolled your hips, making Chris groan with the pressure of your centre against his length, and he detached his mouth from your skin immediately.

“Fuck…Yeah. Yeah, we can have makeup sex. Let’s have all the sex. Every sex”, his rambling made you laugh, and you pressed a brief kiss on his forehead before you moved.

Shuffling further down his body, you attached your lips to Chris’ neck. Right now, you felt like you needed to kiss him. Anywhere and everywhere. You wanted to feel his heated skin under your lips, your hands, your body…You just wanted to feel him, so you didn’t hold back.

Slowly, leisurely, you took your time savouring Chris’ body, leaving trails of kisses from his neck, to his chest, his stomach, his tummy…All as he sighed and hummed contently, as he buried his fingers in your hair when you stopped at the waistband of his shorts, focusing on the barely perceptible freckles that littered his skin, making sure not to leave a single one unkissed.

“Can I take these off?” You mumbled, hooking your fingers under the waistband of his shorts.

Chris just hummed, taking them off himself and throwing them right where your t-shirt had landed last night. As you suspected, he wasn’t even wearing underwear.

“You drove all the way here just in your shorts?” You couldn’t help but chuckle, settling yourself between his legs, running your hands up and down his thighs.

“‘Course I did. Had no time to put on an extra item of clothing when the prettiest girl told me I could come over”, Chris grinned at you, and you grinned back, shaking your head from side to side a bit, mumbling an ‘Unbelievable…’

The grin disappeared from Chris’ face the moment you took him in your hand, teasing him with soft strokes that instead had him closing his eyes and sighing. Your boyfriend loved to have his way with you, and you loved letting him get away with it. But, sometimes, you also wanted your fun, and he was more than ready to let you indulge.

You continued your motions, not only the motions of your hand, but the previous motions of your lips, pressing kisses on any freckle on his tummy, and even on his length, simply relishing the taste of his skin. Until you just couldn’t wait any longer, until you couldn’t stop yourself from licking a long stripe from the base of his cock all the way to his head, all so you could finally take him in your mouth.

Chris swore under his breath, bringing a hand to the back of your head, not really moving you, simply caressing your hair, taking in the sight of his length going in and out of your mouth, mumbling. “You’re always pretty, but you certainly look even prettier with my cock in your mouth, baby…”

You just hummed in response, ignoring the heat you felt spread on your face. Whether that heat was caused by the dirty words constantly falling from your boyfriend’s lips, or by the way you were borderline choking on him and slurping him up, you weren’t too sure.

You spent a while just working Chris’ length, sucking him off, swallowing every bit of pre-cum that spilled from his tip, jerking the rest of his shaft you couldn’t fit in your mouth. You did it until the feeling of emptiness in your core was just too much to bear. It truly hadn’t been that long, three days wasn’t even the longest you’d ever spent without having sex with Chris, but considering the circumstances, you figured your body just missed him.

With a lewd pop, you let him fall from your mouth, all so you could climb your way back up to sit on his lap and kiss him. Burying your fingers in his hair, you pulled him as close to you as you could, just as Chris’ fingers dug on your soft sides, whimpering a bit at the feel of his tongue against yours, of his lips on your own.

“Gimme some room, pretty. Hm?” Chris mumbled against your lips, right before biting on your lower lip and tugging it, just as he brought a hand between your bodies.

So you complied, lifting your hips just a bit, enough for him to bring two fingers to your entrance. Chris wasted no time, he spread your essence all over, getting his fingers drenched before he finally stuffed those two fingers within your warmth.

A quiet whimper left your mouth as soon as he started moving his fingers, as soon as he started massaging the utmost sensitive areas within your walls, stretching you open in the process. The slow, calculated movements of his fingers were a complete contrast to the borderline desperate way he was kissing you. You were starting to feel lightheaded, breathless, and you were sure your heart was close to bursting out of your chest.

Detaching your lips from his, you attached them to his cheek, trying to catch your breath. You couldn’t help but whine when Chris removed his fingers from your core. The sight of him bringing them to his mouth and sucking them clean, with his eyebrows pulled together in bliss, had you clenching around air, had you craving his warmth, too.

So you brought your hand between your bodies, taking a hold of your boyfriend’s length and lining him with your entrance right as you kissed him again.

“Love, wait…” Chris pulled away from your lips, just before you took him inside of you. “Need to stretch you more first”.

You just shook your head, leaning in to press a brief kiss on his cheekbone. “Can’t wait that long”.

“Baby…” Chris was giving you his Worried Tone, and you appreciated it, you really did, but you also needed to have him inside you now or you were sure you’d cry.

You pressed a few more kisses on his cheeks, mumbling. “I can take it…Need you. Now”.

“Fuck, you’re playing dirty…” Chris chuckled. His need to give you what you wanted and his instinct to make sure you didn’t get hurt were clearly at odds with each other here, but you knew very well what your limits were. “Fine, but go slow. Hm?”

“Mhm…” You placed a quick kiss on the corner of his mouth before you took him in your hand and lined him with your entrance again.

With a deep breath, you finally started to lower yourself on Chris’ lap, taking him in one centimetre at a time.

Funny thing, how Chris asked you to go slow, as if you had any semblance of control whatsoever, as if he wasn’t holding your hips tightly to make sure you did go slow. Sure, it was a bit more difficult than usual, but you were already so used to your boyfriend’s body it wasn’t particularly painful, just a bit of tighter fit.

As soon as you were fully sat on his cock, you sighed, almost relieved that you were finally stuffed full, just as Chris swore under his breath. You moved a hand from where it’d been resting against his chest to his cheek instead, and he closed his eyes, turning his head to place a kiss on your palm.

“So warm…” He mumbled against the skin of your palm, and he removed one of his hands from your hips to bring it to yours on his face, cradling it so he could press kisses on your wrist. The soft drag of his lips over the sensitive skin further agitated those butterflies in your belly.

Leaning into him, you wrapped your arms around his neck and buried your face in the crook of his neck, just as one of his arms circled your waist and his hand found its way into your hair, cradling the back of your neck, holding you close once you finally started to move.

“You know you’re my dream girl, right?” Chris whispered in your ear, chuckling when you involuntarily clenched around him.

Pressing soft kisses on his neck, you hummed. “I know. But I love hearing it anyway”.

“I know you do…I can feel it”, he moved his hand from where it was laying around your waist to grope one of your buttcheeks instead.

Chris let you keep the slow bounce of your hips, clearly in no rush to do anything other than fondle your soft flesh, than enjoying your body and your kisses and your overall attention. You could feel his body getting warmer, his chest heaving, and the low hums and sighs that left his lips under your movements had your mind hazing a bit.

“I’m so…happy”, you mumbled against his skin, pressing kisses up his neck until you found his cheek, leaving a lingering kiss there. “Happy that you’re mine”.

Chris’ hand that was cradling your head finally moved, finding your other buttcheek. He held you tightly, almost tight enough to bruise, and you knew your little time of control was over. “Love to be yours…Love that you’re mine…”

Finding your lips, Chris kissed you deeply, holding you with a firm grip. He moved you up and down his cock however he pleased, with no difficulty. His tongue in your mouth, pushing against yours, felt like the tastiest dessert you’d ever had, coupled with the feel of him going in and out of you, hitting all your sweetest spots, was quickly clouding your mind, filling it with only your loving boyfriend, the delicious drag of his cock against your walls, and the feeling of his hands on your flesh.

“You know…” Chris moved away from your mouth, attaching his lips to your neck instead to suck a mark on it, making you squirm a little. “Sometimes…It feels like you were made for me…” His hold on your bum tightened, and the pace in which he was bouncing you up and down his cock increased just the tiniest bit.

“Your tight cunt, your fat ass, your soft tits, your thick thighs…” Every word that came out of his mouth had you whimpering, had you whining softly close to his ear. Threading your fingers through his hair, you held him tightly, relishing his wet, sloppy kisses all over your neck and chest. “But not just that…”

Kissing up your neck, Chris found your earlobe, lightly sucking and licking on it. “You’re so kind, smart…so caring, and strong willed…”

Before you knew it, you were rolling, and the tiniest of squeaks left your lips once Chris flipped you both over so he was now on top of you. There were few things in this world you enjoyed more than your boyfriend’s weight on you. It always filled you with a pleasant mix of comfort and arousal. The way he moved your thighs so you could wrap your legs around his torso, to lock one ankle over the other so you could keep him there as he continued to drill into you, it all was quickly filling you with a sense of fullness quite like never before.

His mouth claimed yours, kissing you with want, all while his hips slowly rocked back and forth to fill you with all of him time and time again. You truly felt like your heart was going to leap out of your chest, like it was skipping every other beat.

With one of his arms under your neck and the other around your lower back to tilt you however he wanted, you simply let yourself enjoy the feeling of him all around you, in you, dragging your hands up and down his back, feeling each dip and curve of his muscles, relishing his warmth, his body heat.

“I’m just…” Chris murmured between kisses. “Madly in love with you…”

Your heart swelled in your chest, now full of just Chris. You could only vaguely hear the whines and quiet moans that left your mouth with each thrust, with each word coming out of your boyfriend’s kiss-bitten lips, and your nails dug on his back as he increased his pace.

“I love you…” You simply mumbled back, holding tight onto him, swallowing the almost desperate moan that came out of his lips as soon as your words registered in his brain.

“Say it again”, Chris buried his face in the crook of your neck, bringing a hand between your bodies so he could start rubbing circles on your clit.

The slow movement of his hips was now long gone. His pace grew faster, the headboard started to thump against the wall, a sound you weren’t really used to–unlike your bed at home, this one was most certainly not werewolf-proof. It would’ve distracted you, had Chris not increased the intensity of his thrusts, drilling into you as hard as you knew he could, making you see stars and making you lose your sense of reality.

It took you a moment to comply, too lost in the feeling of it all. “I…I love you”.

“Again”, his voice was a bit strained, but you could barely register it with the unrelenting pace of his fingers on that sensitive bud between your legs, with the feel of him splitting you open time and time again.

“Love you, Chris. I’m–”

With one final moan of his name, you finally felt your release wash over you, dragging warmth all throughout your body. You bit on his shoulder to ground yourself, your nails dug on his back, and the blissed-out sounds coming out of your boyfriend’s mouth joined the ringing that had started in your ears.

“Fuck, fuck…Love you…so much…” Burying himself as deep as he could, Chris finally stilled, filling you up, pumping you full of his release, of everything he had to give.

As you came down from your high, you could vaguely feel his rumble against your chest, and even in your post orgasmic, hazy state you couldn’t help but smile, holding tightly onto him, just as he held onto you, as he pressed soft, tender kisses on your neck. Chris truly never rumbled often, but when he did, it was because he was either falling into a more animalistic state, or because he was particularly vulnerable, and as you held him, you knew the reason was the latter.

When he pulled away from your neck to finally press a loving kiss on your lips, you couldn’t help but notice the blush on his face and his ears. You simply brushed your nose against his, relishing the small giggle that left his lips when you did.

“Be right back”, Chris tried to pull himself away from your embrace, but you held him tightly in place, keeping your limbs firmly around him. Realistically, he was stronger than you, and he could pull you off of his body easily, but he didn’t, he simply regarded you with a curious–and maybe a bit confused–look.

You looked him in the eyes for a bit, until you unwrapped your arms from around his neck to instead cradle his face in your hands, softly stroking his cheeks with your thumbs. “I’m so, so in love with you. Truly”.

His flush deepened, just as the widest smile spread on his lips, making his eyes disappear into crescents and his dimples pop on his cheeks. With one more kiss on his lips, you finally let go of him. Chris simply left the comfort of your bed, and he made his way to your dresser, so he could grab a random towel from one of the drawers.

He cleaned you up thoroughly, wiping the fluids leaking from your ruined core, all as he smothered your face with kisses, making your heart flutter in your chest and your cheeks heat up.

As soon as he was done he dumped the towel on the floor, tucking you and himself back under the covers, uncaring of the soiled sheets as he held you close to his body, stroking your back, your thighs, your bum…

“Sorry if I didn’t let you keep the pace for long…” Chris mumbled against your hair, sounding just as sleepy as you felt, even when it was early in the day. You figured the sleepless nights were catching up to you both.

Leaving a quick peck on his chest, you snuggled closer. “It’s okay, darling. You know I love when you manhandle me”.

“Don’t you mean wolf-handle you?” Chris giggled, mostly to himself, and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Any-handle me”, you confirmed, draping your leg over his torso and pulling him further into you, pressing yourself fully to his heated skin. “Just love to feel you…”

“Mm…Me too”, he simply caressed your back, keeping you close.

You both kept silent for a while, simply basking in your love and the lingering feeling of your high.

“If we ever fight again…I’ll try my best not to run away”, you mumbled, tracing mindless shapes on his chest.

Chris took a deep breath, and you felt his chest rise and fall under your head. “I understand why you do it. If it helps you, then I won’t stop you”.

“But…it hurts you, baby”.

“I manage…” He brought a hand to your head, softly caressing your hair.

You pulled yourself away from his hold, propped yourself up on an elbow, and looked him right in the eyes. “Chris…Why didn’t you tell me you had imprinted on me?”

Chris’ whole body tensed as soon as you asked the question, and you saw his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. “How’d you–”

“Seungmin sent me some texts explaining…Please don’t be mad at him, he was just worried about you”, you added that last sentence as soon as you saw Chris’ gaze harden, and he pressed his fingers on his eye sockets, just as he let out a frustrated sigh.

“‘Course Seungmin told you…” He mumbled. When he finally removed his hands from his face, his eyes found yours, looking incredibly vulnerable. “Pretty, listen…”

Chris sat down on the bed, and you followed right after, crossing your legs, and listening intently to what he wanted to say. “I didn’t tell you anything about imprinting in general because I just knew that the second you found out about it you’d know I had imprinted on you. There was just no way for you not to know when it’s so painfully obvious that my feelings for you run much deeper than a regular guy’s would…It’s a lot to take in, and it’s a level of pressure I didn’t want to put on you”.

Taking your hand in his, he gave it a squeeze. “I don’t want you to…feel like you have to stay with me because of all this mystical bullshit inside of me. You should be able to put space between us if you need it, to do things you want to do even if they go against what I say…And, most importantly, you should be able to leave if you ever want to…”

You felt your heart ache with that last statement. Somehow, the thought of leaving him, of truly leaving, was unbearable even to you. Sure, people fell out of love often, it wasn’t like it couldn’t happen, but you figured most people didn’t have a supernatural connection with their partner.

“Baby…” You squeezed Chris’ hand, bringing his attention to your eyes. “These couple of days without you have felt like pure torture. I know it sounds silly, considering one, I was the one who left, and two, we’ve been physically apart for long periods of time several times before, but never after an argument. It’s manageable in normal circumstances, but if we’ve fought, or if we don’t speak, you need to know it’s painful for me, too”.

Chris’ eyes widened, like you were breaking inconceivable news to him. He cupped your cheek with his free hand, keeping you close. “What?”

“I’ve never felt anything like this…Like a piece of me had been ripped out of my body. I didn’t understand why, until I read those texts from Seungmin this morning…” You brought your hand to rest on top of his on your face, licking your lips. “Seems like that mystical bullshit is inside me, too, baby. Which, I suppose, makes sense, if your wolf is somehow connected to me…”

“Shit, pretty, I–” You could see it in his eyes, Christopher’s signature Guilty Look. The one he had whenever he was beating himself up. You truly loved him deeply, but, sometimes, you felt like you wanted to murder him for taking the blame for things that weren’t his fault.

“Nuh-uh”, you cupped his cheeks, squishing them together. “Don’t give me the ‘guilty dog’ eyes. Not with this”.

“But–”

Before he could continue, you moved. Sitting on his lap, still cradling his face in your hands, but with less pressure, you simply looked him in the eyes. “Now, you’re gonna be all like ‘ooohh, I dragged you into this’, ‘ooohh, it’s my fault’, ‘ooohh, I didn’t mean to’. Please don’t do that”.

A pout made its way onto your lips, and you saw Chris’ form relax a bit, just as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

“What are you gonna do about it now? Take what’s mine away from me? No way”, you moved your hands from his cheeks to his hair, burying your fingers in the soft strands, holding him tightly. “The universe has made you for me, too, babe. I wholeheartedly believe this is a mutual thing”.

Chris looked at you for a brief moment, taking you in. His eyes jumped all over your face, and, in an instant, he was scoffing, and a bright smile spread on his lips. “God, I truly am so fucked. So sickly in love with you, baby. You shouldn’t have said that, I’m gonna be even more insufferable after this”.

“I wouldn’t have you any other way”, you mumbled, right before you pulled him in for a kiss.

Chris just hugged you tighter, and he dropped back on the bed, bringing you down with him, giggling. You just giggled in response, kissing him as many times as you could, relishing his warmth, his presence, and his love.

After a while, when your fit of giggles died down, when you were just cuddling again, holding each other close, Chris tensed under you. “Shouldn’t we take Joaquín on a walk?” His eyes widened, and he suddenly held your waist tightly. “Shit, baby, do you think your mum came back?”

You just hummed, bracing yourself on his chest to sit on his lap. “Let’s hope she didn’t. Not like I particularly care, but if she did come back already, she probably heard you railing me. There is just no way she didn’t. You almost made a hole on the wall with how much this bed was moving”.

“Oh my God…” Chris groaned, covering his face in his hands, and you smiled as you saw his ears grow red. “I can’t believe I let you seduce me!”

“Oh, please. As if you needed me to do anything for you to feel seduced”, you laughed, pulling his hands away from his face, uncovering his flushed cheeks and the pout on his lips.

You tried your best to kiss that pout off of his face, but he was still grumbling, grumpy at the thought that he’d somehow disrespected your mother’s home. Whatever that meant.

“C’mon, baby”, you said eventually, pressing one last, loud kiss on his lips. “Let’s find out if you’re working yourself up over nothing, or if death by embarrassment is a real thing”.

Chris sighed, but he followed you when you stood up from the bed to get dressed, practically holding his breath in anticipation when you finally opened the door to leave your room.

Tagging: @222wonnie · @staaa96 · @oiminho · @straylightdream · @starshine-moon · @biribarabiribbaem · @100layersofdaddyissues · @dearalice · @alexis-reads-fics · @xcookiemonsteer · @knowleeknow · @chanlovesme · @liminaldaydream · @sstarryreads · @svngiem · @notastraykid · @princelingperfect · @violetpenguinkris · @leedunno · @peepeepoopooharrie · @aestheticsluut · @skzhomiehopper · @cessixja · @mimzibee · @hipsdofangirl · @djeniryuu · @floatingcoffecup · @hakunaamaatittiessss · @minnysproutgriffinteddy · @moonmooncr · @waiting-for-the-barbarians · @phobia0325 · @leebitsimpracha · @changbinmwah · @viviixlyy · @casualenthusiastexpert · @kileidoscope · @kpop-bbdoll · @crispytigerearthquake · @meloncremesoda · @amaranth-writing

in purple: can’t be tagged. If you want to be removed (or if i tagged you incorrectly) from the list just PM me. If you want to be added fill in this form~

Constructive feedback (or even keysmashes, really) is always welcome :) feel free to leave your comments in the caption/tags when you reblog, or by sending me an ask !

General Masterlist Chris’ WereRoomies Instalments: It’s Cold Out · Rut · Alpha Dog · It’s Warm In · Love is Easy · Afraid to Lose You. For extra drabbles, check out the series masterlist.

799 notes · View notes

bonny-kookoo · 1 year

Text

Jungkook

𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖓𝖑𝖎𝖙 [Heated Touch] 🔞

It seems like the game of tug-of-war you're playing is constantly changing who's got the strongest will to pull, and who's just staying in place- but tonight, it seems like the rope you're both holding onto might just snap.

Tags/Warnings: Alpha!Jungkook, Werewolf!Jungkook, Omega!Reader, Werewolf!Reader, slight angst, mentions of past infidelity and resulting distrust, Alpha!Werewolf!Yoongi, SOME spicy content but no full on smut, angst

Length: 3.2k Words

THERE IS NO TAGLIST FOR THIS FIC.

-> Masterlist

🌘.━━━━━━━━━━.🌕.━━━━━━━━━━━.🌒

Jimin is an oddly charming young man.

You know it pisses Jungkook off that you spend time with him- and while at first, you had started to seek the alpha out exactly due to that reason, you can't deny that his personality is a fresh change to what you're used to. He's not at all overly cocky or bold like Jungkook himself- he's rather quiet and observing, mostly just responding to the things around him, never making the first move it seems. "You know-" He starts, watching you with clear amusement as you sit down in front of him for lunch. "-I should be offended I'm just being used for a game of jealousy." He chuckles, and you look up at that, straight at him.

"What?" You ask, and he shrugs, placing a piece of bread onto your plate from his own.

"Oh, I know your intentions." He informs you with a light voice, no malice to be noticed at all. "May I ask what changed your mind about him? He's been chewing my ear off about you opening up to him only days prior- and now it seems as if all your interest has vanished." He wonders as he begins to eat, and you shrug your shoulders, looking down into your bowl of soup.

"He plays around, or so your pack says." You mumble. "And I'm not gonna be one of his toys. He's just a bitch in heat." You say, and Jimin sighs, though laughing at your choice of words.

"Hm, he's got some problems saying no, I agree." He offers, filling your cup with water- and in a way, you wonder if this game of jealousy is just for you, or if he's finding entertainment in it as well, considering how well he plays into it, clearly aware of the burning gaze of the victim of said game, glaring at his every move from a few seats away. "It's not like he plays around, actively." Jimin tries to explain.

"You don't have to justify anything for his sake." You scoff, thanking him for the gesture before you take a sip from the cold water. "His pride isn't your concern."

"Maybe not." The alpha across from you smiles. "Though I'd like to at least attempt to provide some sort of explanation as to why his past actions could be taken as just 'toying around' with people." He tries to explain.

"Even if the explanation is that he can't say no, it won't change my opinion on him." You huff. "Cause that'll just make him seem weak. If he can't stand his ground, he's not a good partner for me." You complain more or less to yourself, and Jimin laughs.

"Aren't you a bit harsh on him?" He asks. "Who he's been in the past doesn't have to be a reflection of who he is now."

"Hm, sure." You wave the alpha off, continuing to eat.

"Have you ever thought that maybe.." Jimin starts, eyes now finding yours across the table. "…those things told to you could simply be acts of manipulation?" He wonders with an almost innocent tone.

"What?" You ask, and he leans back.

"Sabotage, so to speak." He claims. "Jungkook is a wanted man, after all. You're seen as a rival, darling, not as a potential friend." He offers you, before he takes his empty bowl, standing up from his spot, and leaving you with more questions than answers. You've not really thought about that- that some might just make stuff up about him to make him appear unappealing to you, so you'd let off and let him go in return.

Set him free, in a way.

"For someone who started to despise me for giving attention to others, you sure as hell like to give yours away freely as well." Jungkook's irritated town growls out as he sits down where Jimin had sat before- and you feel oddly small under his heated gaze.

You don't say anything, just swirl your spoon around in your soup.

"Jimin has a mate, by the way. Just so you know." Jungkook tells you, arms crossed. "You're not yet a member of my pack, so I can't really scold you for anything. But I hope you're aware that as Namjoon's second, I'm not going to let your childish tamper tantrum slide."

"I'm not having a tantrum." You argue quietly, a little irritated but not enough to really bark out at him like that.

"Could've fooled me." He scoffs. "If simply rumors can make you turn away from me this easily, I might've overestimated you." He tells you. "I won't make that mistake in the future."

"…what do you mean?" You wonder, and he shrugs, looking away from you.

"Your OWN howl is what echoes back from the forest you call into." He simply says. "If you distrust me, I will do the same, simple as that." He explains, and you set your spoon down at that.

"..I'm sorry." You mumble quietly. "I don't know.." You start, but you can't finish the sentence. Because you don't really know at all what to do, or feel right now. You're not sure if you want to accept him fully, or make sure you really won't get hurt in the end. You don't feel good simply letting him lead you blindly, but you're also becoming anxious at the prospect of him treating you like nothing but a stranger.

"I know." He answers you after a moment, voice and eyes a lot softer- but it holds an odd disappointment in it. "I know you're not sure." Jungkook offers, understanding your situation. "And until you are, I'll have to protect myself as well." He says, as he gets up from his spot, reaching out to touch your wrist briefly. "I know you don't want to get hurt-" He starts, his hand leaving yours.

"-but neither do I."

🌘.━━━━━━━━━━.🌕.━━━━━━━━━━━.🌒

The festival tonight is a lot more calm than anticipated, considering the threat of hunters having been confirmed earlier today.

You receive the small gifts of your pack with a bit of a heavy heart, considering you're not as excited as you though you might be a few days prior. You're not sure if you're having second thoughts- or if it's simply Jungkook's behavior that's making you so dizzy in your head. Maybe you've gotten spoiled by his open courting of you- maybe you've taking his bold interest for granted.

Maybe it was you who played with him.

"You can always stay." Yoongi offers from where he's standing, watching a bit from the sidelines. "Don't feel obligated."

"No, it's not that." You shake your head. "Just.. Consequences of my own actions, I guess." You mumble to yourself, leaving the packleader by himself as you walk around the pack premise, watching how everyone's in high spirits- everyone but a certain serious looking alpha, sitting on a bench in a corner, not really participating in anything.

You hate that, in a way, it's your fault he doesn't enjoy this.

But is it really your fault?

He knew from the start that you had issues when it came to trust and alphas in general- he knew what he'd get himself into. So putting the weight on you right now isn't fair either, you think, as you walk around the woods, kicking sticks and pebbles like the tamper tantrum-having puppy he'd called you as. Yeah, maybe you were having a tantrum. Who cares.

It's probably just your stupid omega hormones anyways.

If you were a beta, would he be interested in you? Probably not, because apart from your subgender, you've got nothing to offer him whatsoever. In a way, you'd just be a trophy anyways, nothing else- just something to show off every now and then, and tuck it away safely when it's not needed. You don't want a life like that.

So what kind of life do you want?

You know you couldn't handle a leading role- you're not good at making decisions, not for yourself, and neither for others. Responsibility isn't well placed in your hands, and the safety of the pack can't be ensured with your lacking abilities either. You want something calm, something completely ordinary, boring.

Plain.

You can work with something that will neither disappoint nor excite you. You don't want a huge rollercoaster you'll surely get at his side- there's no reason to really run after him, because in the end, you both don't fit at all. The moon must've simply made a mistake, choosing you for him.

Maybe it just chose for him, but not for you.

"Hey." A voice calls out behind you, and you turn around at that, watching Jungkook emerge from the distance, hands in his pockets. "Don't run off like that." He scolds, and you huff, turning to walk away further.

At that, he reaches out, grabs your wrist. You want to say something- but his gaze is telling you that his word is final. "The moon is up." He tells you, and at that, you realize it too. "It means that right now, you're not under Yoongi's command any longer, but Namjoon's- and therefore, mine as well." He reminds you, and you swallow.

It explains why you suddenly feel so.. small under his gaze.

"Let's go back." He says, but you shake your head, standing your ground. "This is really no time for a-"

"I want to talk." You say, unsure why you're saying it. And for some reason, it looks like that's what makes Jungkook finally snap.

"Oh, now you want to?" He says, walking towards you, forcing you to step backwards to keep some distance between you two- until you lean against a large boulder behind you, trapped. "Now you want to actually be a grown up and talk to me. Curious." He scoffs, looking down at you. "It's odd how you always seem to seek the things I want whenever I'm not the one asking for them. One moment you want me to want you, just to tell me to stop- and then you seek me out again, try and tug me back into your game." The alpha growls, patience having finally run out.

It's not like he's angry at you- but more so frustrated at what made you into such a mess, because he knows that you don't actually want to be like this.

You're just scared. And he doesn't know what to do to not have you feel this way.

"If you just wanted me to play with you, you could've always just asked." He offers, voice falling into a honey-smooth hum as he leans into you, your sudden desire for him awakening. You're not scared of him at all in this moment- and you blame your own hormones for it. After all, you've been dreaming of him-

And those dreams have been for your eyes only, clearly. If not, he would've definitely talked to you about them- would know how far you've went in your imagination already.

"You just want the momentary excitement from me, no?" He wonders. "It's what everyone wants. It's what I'm there for, aren't I?" He says more so to himself than you, and suddenly, your mind grows dizzy. What is he talking about? And why can't you bring yourself to concentrate on it?

You don't want to be like this. Not right now.

"Hm, but I'll play with you, won't you like that, hm?" He hums into your ear, and you melt underneath his words, easily nodding at his proposal, because you've waited way too long for this.

He's finally made his move, and you're gonna enjoy every last second of it.

"You think I haven't heard you talk to Jimin about me, don't you?" He suddenly brings up, inked arm reaching over your thigh so his hand can cup your heat- harshly so, forcing your body upright even, and you can't help but mewl at the way it puts pressure on your aching core. "You think I don't know how you yap about me to your friends hm? How you call me nothing but what? A 'bitch in heat', wasn't it?" He recalls, and you whimper a bit because you did call him that.

You called him a lot of other nasty things in your head, and you do regret it a little. Just a tiny bit though. Or maybe a lot.

"Yeah well-" you huff impatiently, throwing your head back over his shoulder. "-You're all talk and nothing more." You complain. "You'll just- you just wanna fuck me and then toss me aside like everyone else!" You tell him with a slightly angry bite to your tone, and he clicks his tongue, fingers of his effortlessly opening the buttons of your shorts.

"Stupid omega-bullshit." You blame, hips moving impatiently as you curl your toes from the sensation. He shakes his head.

"And yet you let me." He chuckles, and you want to cry. Because you do let him fuck you over like this, right now. You do, with full knowledge of the consequences after. But you also want him, because he's got these.. glimpses of something you've never had before.

These moments of actual happiness, actual care and gentle adoration- something similar to the love everyone always gushes about around you, the thing you've never quite experienced before. "Why, I wonder." He asks you, while his fingers easily dip in between your legs, slick making it easy for him to move around.

"I think you know why." He shakes his head however, free hand moving to pull you up properly against his chest again, perched up on his thigh, legs spread open while your shorts and underwear pool at your ankles. "You know exactly why you let me, and why I'm doing this in the first place." He offers, and you don't answer.

Cause you're not sure. If it's not your omega hormones, then what? Is he going to come at you with some fated soulmate bullshit?

"You've got me tangled around your fingers, darling, and you don't even know it." Jungkook tells you with ear amusement in his tone, voice vibrating against your back. "Your body is calling out to me, and only me, isn't it?" He wonders, two fingers dipping inside you, finally giving you something at last. "You crave me, and can't bear the thought of anyone else touching you like this." He explains, while he leans in to let his lips run over the skin near your ear, searching for where your scent is strongest. "You feel empty without my touch, cold without my presence, lonely without my eyes on you." He goes on, and you want to cry out of frustration because first of all how does he know, and second of all why can't you fucking cum?!

"You know I'm right." The alpha wolf tells you. "Because I feel the exact same things." He offers.

"Wha-" you start, before you're interrupted by a specific motion of his fingers inside you, legs kicking out.

"Don't act so surprised." He mumbles against your skin, watching from above how you squirm in his grip, arm holding you close while the other plays around with you. "Its not like I'm hiding anything from you or anyone else." Jungkook chuckles. "Not like you, that is." He teasingly bites at your earlobe, making you shudder.

You're absolutely boneless in his grip right now, close to crying as he keeps your final high always a breath away.

"You're testing my patience, darling." The wolf continues, really making sure you know he's truly playing with you. "One moment you want me, the next you don't. Who's really playing a cruel game here, I wonder?" He accuses, and now you're really close to tears, but for different reasons.

"I don't-" you start, moving your legs in desperation. "- Wanna talk 'bout that now.." you whine, and he clicks his tongue.

"You don't ever want to." He almost growls. "And I'm sick of it, darling." He says, the pet name said almost like a threat, harsh and sharp. "You either talk-" he starts, and you're sweating at what cruel thing he's got in mind. "-or I'm leaving you."

And you know that by leaving, he's not only talking about his hand between your legs.

And that- the prospect of him leaving you alone- finally breaks the floodgates, making you cry.

Because you don't want him to leave.

Not anymore.

The first tears fall without any permission, face suddenly desperately hiding against his shoulder, hands reaching out to cling to his clothes. "Don't go." You beg pitifully, your lust entirely forgotten as you break in his embrace, not even having noticed for a good moment that he's holding onto you tightly, faint music from the pack premise echoing through the forest as you cry into his body, letting him at least keep your physical self together. "I'm scared." You admit, and he hums.

"I know." He responds, a hand on your back running up and down in reassurance. "Of what?"

"You." You respond. "Me." You confusingly say, before a frustrated "Everything!" Escapes you- and he sighs, a gentle kiss placed on top of your head, the gesture so tender you feel like it could shatter you any second now.

"You don't have to be." He offers. "I'm here now, am I not?" He asks, and you nod, slowly calming down from whatever just happened. "I'll make sure there's nothing to be scared of."

"What if you're what I'm scared of?" You wonder.

"Then tell me what it is that scares you so much about me." He asks you with desperation.

"What do you even like about me?" You ask, eyes all red and puffy as you stare him down. "Aside from me being an omega, and your fated one-" You start, and he throws his head back, taking a deep breath to collect himself visibly.

"I can't tell you that-" He starts, hands wiping your cheeks. "-Because you've never showed me any part of you." He says.

"So you do only want my body-" You begin, but he chuckles, shaking his head.

"I meant the parts that are in here." He taps your chest, right underneath your collarbone. "I've never ever seen you. And I want to."

"You're seeing it right now." You huff, disappointed. "It's nothing but a mess."

"Then let's sort through it." He offers. "Let's just tidy up in there, get rid of the things you don't need so we can make space." Jungkook tells you, and at that, you look up.

"Space for what?" You ask, and he shrugs.

"For you to breathe." He says, hands on your shoulders now. "And maybe for me, too." He teases almost, before you lean forward, hugging him tightly.

"No need." You simply confess into his chest, making him smile.

"You're already in there."

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #hybrid imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook x reader #bts jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook imagine #bts jeon jungkook x reader #bts jeon jungkook imagine

576 notes · View notes