#Like why do you have more alpha fics????
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freakylover · 5 months ago
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Batboys and Batgirls A/B/O Assignments
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Omega: 969 fics.
1.-Dick Grayson:
Beta: 80 fics.
Alpha: 1004 fics.
Alpha: 829 fics.
2.-Jason Todd:
Omega: 1444 fics.
Beta: 22 fics.
Omega: 681 fics.
3.-Tim Drake:
Beta: 132 fics.
Alfa: 352 fics.
Omega: 257 fics.
4.-Damian Wayne:
Beta: 18 fics.
Alfa: 349 fics.
Omega: 5 fics.
5.-Duke Thomas:
Beta: 17 fics.
Alpha: 13 fics.
Omega: 14 fics.
6.-Cassandra Cain:
Beta: 21 fics.
Alfa: 57 fics.
7.-Stephanie Brown:
Omega: 37 fics.
Omega: 9 fics.
Beta: 35 fics.
Alfa: 20 fics.
8.-Barbara Gordon:
Beta: 28 fics.
I would have liked to include Harper in the list, but she doesn't have enough tags :c
Alfa: 27 fics.
Please, no hate/mean comments. This post is purely informative.
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thehappiestgolucky · 1 year ago
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Thinking about Moth in Hisui again, and honestly I feel like I’d get a better grasp at a sort of storyline for it if I did a playthrough as Markoth
my only problem is the player character is just a lil guy and markoth is not-
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twpsyn-who · 2 years ago
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Stiles Stilinski is my favorite/comfort character, which means that I have a deeply desire to ship him with everyone, wish pain and suffering upon himself and an unresolved need to read 'Dead Stiles Stilinski' fics.
I need more angst in my life. I need him to suffer
#but also I need more what if fics with Stiles dying in many situations. like why there's no fic where he's the third virgin sacrifice????#what if stiles died after getting kidnapped by gerwhateverhisname?? like maybe he tried to do something to save Erica and Boyd that got him#killed or just the events took a darker turn than canon#stiles dying in all those instances where a gun has been pointed at his face#THE NOGITSUNE MAN. Stiles getting affected by the bite Scott gave his double and dying because of it??? Stiles actually dying instead of#losing concussions after they got the nogitsune??? Stiles not having a divine move and actually following with the suicide route????#What If the Nogitsune possessed Allison and is Stiles the one who dies when they go rescue Lydia??? That idea is living rent free in my#mind not gonna lie. I could see Stiles spending time with mr Argent trying to understand why he was able to hurt an Oni#Imagine Stiles stealing Chris's gun (the one he used back then) with only a few bullets in it and a silver knife and when the bullets run#off he stabs the last oni and that's when it hits him. is silver.#ANYWAY the idea was that.therr's no enough dead Stiles Stilinski on AO3 !#and I wanr more#teen wolf stiles#teen wolf#stiles stilinski#all I want for Christmas is more angst and rare ship fics with this boy#PETER EITHER FORCING THE BITE ON STILE OR HIM ACCEPTING ONLY FOR IT TO NOT TAKE???? WHERE'S THAT.FIC AT HUH?????#just... the showdown is over peter is dead and derek is the alpha. everything nice and all until stiles... just falls on the ground.#the argents and jackson didn't need to be werewolves to tell that Stiles was hurt and bleeding but no one beside Derek knew why the blood#was turning black. anc Chris but how do you tell a bunch of kids that one of tgem was dying????#ughhhh my heart man. Derek.offering to mercy kill Stiles??? omg Stiles being like 'Dad. I can't die I can't what about dad?' like he would#ve so worried about him!!! because if Claudia dying broke him? then Stiles dying too would kill the sheriff#so much angst potential yet nothing. unbelievable
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i2sunric · 2 months ago
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𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 (s.jy)
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PAIRING: alpha!jake x omega!reader (f)
SUMMARY: being an omega was already hard, but being an omega with an alpha roommate was worse. especially during your heats. you’d lock yourself in your room, trying to ignore his strong scent and his presence, but jake has had enough of hearing pained wails. he’ll help you, even if he wasn’t your alpha (yet).
WARNINGS: omegaverse, roommates au, unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy), breeding kink, doggystyle, dirty talking, riding, cream pie, fingering, pussy eating, knotting (?) , heat and mentions of ruts, pet names (baby, good girl), mentions of pups (this feels strange idk), reader is a virgin, overstimulation, tits sucking (😋), mentions of pregnancy, manhandling, lmk if more. NOT PROOFREAD.
PUBLISHED: 28th August 2024
WC: 4.2k
TAGLIST: (permanent) @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @jwnghyuns @bangtancultsposts @shawnyle @jooniesbears-blog @skzenhalove @ro-diaries @onlyhyunjin @xcosmi @strawberrhypen @heeheeswifey @destinyhoon @jakeflvrz @emisloves @astratlantis @tunafishyfishylike @branchrkive @insommni4 (oneshot) @nyfwyeonjun @high-and-low-all-the-way @victorylr @jaeyunwon @whatdoyouwanttocallmefor @nshmrarki @hchoes @entenen @heeseungshim @seungminsapuppy @starfallia @ratchet-sebooty @jakeyismine @laurradoesloveu @denleave1088 @weebgeek22 @victoriasimm @strxwbloody @love4hee @strayy-kidz @iheartshopping @isa942572 @hazycottagedreams @jky001 @haelahoops @chososloverfr @mitmit01 @icepriincehoon @kaykay11sworld @riribelle @coraldonutmagazine @seuomo @sn03 @hoonwonsoul @pinksweetlittlepiano @jiminie-08 @leiclerc BOLDS COULD NOT BE TAGGED (adding the rest in the comments cause i can’t tag more than 50 ppl)
a/n: why do i always end my jake fics with a cliffhanger? it’s a mistery to me as well. i don’t really like how it turned out but i sincerely hope y’all do. idk much abt omegaverse and i searched on google most of the information, if it ain’t accurate let’s just say it’s caseyverse and call it a day. please REBLOG & COMMENT bcs only likes get me shadowbanned. also, lmk your thoughts on this fic 🫶🫶
You were prepared.
You had your favourite blankets, all your plushies, your phone and your charger.
You had even bought a mini fridge to keep enough food so that you would resist for at least three days.
Your heat was coming, you could feel it in your bones, which was the main reason as to why you were locked in your bedroom.
Taking the pill to stop the heat from coming was a good idea, especially since you didn’t have an alpha of your own, but the doctor refused to prescribe them, saying that they would really damage your health.
Because suffering for two to three days straight wasn’t.
Your skin was hot, too hot, sweat started gathering on your forehead, and sticking you to the sheets.
You laid on your bed, trying your best to even your breaths and willing your mind not to slip away.
You hated being an omega and going into heat, especially in summer. The weather affected it, making the pain unbearable.
As you thought about it, a sharp pain like a sting hit your lower stomach, you could feel your panties wetting with arousal.
A small yelp left your lips, your hips slowly bucking in the air to soothe the ache between your legs.
It was humiliating, the way your mind succumbed to the primal urge to mating, to being bred.
Suddenly, a soft knock came from the other side of the door and you scrunched your nose.
Jake, with his strong hormones scent, minty but musky at the same time. You normally could live with it, he was good at hiding his scent so as not to bother you and you hid your pheromones well too.
But now, it almost suffocated you and he wasn’t even in the room with you “Y/N… can I come in?”
You scoffed, mood already ruined by your denied pleasure. It’s not like you didn’t have toys, they were in your drawer, but most definitely you weren’t to use them while Jake was in the house.
You just needed to keep control of your mind.
“Jake, no.” You hissed, even if he already knew the answer “Not for the rest three working days.”
Jake pressed his forehead on the door. He also went into rut, but he would just find a willing omega or a beta to bury himself and then forget about them.
You weren’t like him, you didn’t want someone you didn’t know to be inside you, to have such a power over your body.
“Three days?” He sighed “Fuck, your scent is so strong.”
And it was true, during your heat you released more pheromones so as to attract other alphas. Fact was, it also drove your roommate insane.
“I can smell how bad your heat is, it drives me crazy.” Jake murmured, making you shiver.
You could hear his breathless voice, the thick Australian accent rolling off his tongue was such a turn on.
“Don’t—“ You groaned when another wave of pain hit your lower stomach, “Don’t talk like that.” You pleaded.
"I can't help it." He said, "Your scent is so strong, you smell so good…”
He took a deep breath, shutting his eyes and clenching his jaw.
“Please, Jake.” You clung the sheet under you, needing an anchor against your lust “Leave, go outside.”
“I can’t.” He was quick to say “You keep whimpering and I don’t want to hear you in pain.” He stated.
“I’m g-grand.” You replied, “I can manage.”
He gripped the door handle, his muscles tensing up. “I want to help you." He said, a hint of desperation in his voice. "I want to take care of you and make you feel good, please, just let me in."
“Don’t complicate things,” You breathed out, your hips moving around the bed “We set boundaries, remember?”
“Boundaries don’t expect me to sit back, knowing you’re suffering.” He bit back, voice strained.
“Still,” You commented.
Jake and you had a nice relationship, you weren’t just roommates but also friends. You loved to hang out with him and you didn’t want him to see you like this. Again, it was too embarrassing, you weren’t sure you’d be able to face him afterwards.
He tried to pull the handle but obviously, you had locked the door “Y/N, open up.”
You turned around on the bed, your hips humping against the mattress, your face flush on the sheets “No.” You said, trying to sound convincing.
“I just want to help you, don’t overthink it.” Jake sighed, pulling the door knob again. “I said no, Jake. Go away.”
At another groan that escaped your lips, Jake couldn’t take it anymore and kicked the door a couple of times until it swung open.
You widened your eyes “What—“ Before you could talk, he pounced on you, his body holding yours down.
He buried his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your sweet scent that resembled vanilla and peaches, making his head spin “You smell so good, baby.”
You breathed out, trying your hardest not to think about his body so close to you, his skin on yours, “Jake please, get out.”
He planted hot kisses down your collarbone, his hands roaming over your body. “Let me take care of you, I promise I’ll make you feel good.”
“No..” You murmured but as his hands yanked off your shorts and panties, you could feel your wetness running down your thighs in the same way your consciousness crumbled.
You wanted it, you wanted Jake to take you, to make you his and calm the burning desire that consumed you.
He cursed under his breath, two fingers gathered your arousal and he put them in his mouth, humming “You even taste delicious baby, can you be anymore perfect?”
“Jake..” You murmured, “Make it better.” Your voice was strained and whiny, making Jake’s pants tighter.
“Say no more.” He said and without any warning he pushed two fingers deep inside of you.
How they even fit was foreign to you, given that nobody had ever dared to touch you there, but you didn’t really care at that moment. It felt good, so good.
You moaned out, gripping the sheets under you, your mind already a puddle of pleasure.
His digits were skilled, brushing and thrusting in every spot that got your eyes rolling.
“So wet for me baby, mh?” Jake groaned, the squelching sound filling the room, imprinting in his ears.
He raised your shirt with his free hand and started groping your breasts, kneading the soft flesh in his palms.
He towered you, his presence dominant behind you, like a shadow swallowing you whole.
Whimpers left your lips, but this time they were a reaction from pleasure, not pain.
“Where is it?” He asked, biting his tongue as he desperately searched for something inside you.
When he felt you moan loudly, he smirked “Got it.” And he started thrusting his fingers in and out, reaching that spot again.
You felt as if your body was being burned, you needed him to continue it, to take you to the edge.
And Jake never stopped, even if his wrist hurt and his fingers grew sore. He lived to hear your cries of pleasure, to be the one making you squirm.
“Close?” He asked when he felt your walls clench around his digits and you nodded.
“Ugh.” You moaned, your eyes squeezing and with one last thrust of his fingers, you fell apart.
Your body trembled, your legs shook. Jake gently helped you ride out of your high before pulling out his fingers and licking them clean.
“If only you could taste yourself, baby.” He took your chin in his hand and raised your body so you were kneeling, back flush to his chest “So sweet, I can’t get enough.”
You felt his bulge brush against your back and it was the moment where your mind went completely black.
Lust winning over reason.
You breathed out “Jake,” Letting one of your hands wander down his chest until it reached his sweats, feeling his clothed hard-on “Put it inside me.”
Jake cursed, his body trembling “You want it inside?” He questioned, his breath fanning against the shell of your ear “Want me to fuck you, mh?”
You nodded blissfully, trying to pull his pants down.
Jake chuckled and let you fall on the mattress, quickly working both his shirt and pants off.
You peeked at him over your shoulder and gasped. His cock was huge, so long and thick it made your mouth water.
Any worry that it might not fit in your virgin pussy was clouded by lust, so you said “Hurry.” Raising your backside in the air.
“Patience.” He ordered, gently pulling your shorts and panties down your ankles, as well as removing your shirt.
He stroked his hard shaft, already leaking precum, he kneeled closer to you and you held onto the headboard.
Jake gripped your backside, squeezing your hips as he teased your entrance with the head of his cock.
You gasped, the feeling so good “I’m going in now.” He had the decency to warn that time and slowly, pushed inside you.
“Ngh.” You moaned, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as he put all of his length in you, reaching places you didn’t even know existed.
Jake sighed, his head thrown back. Your walls hugged him, “You’re so tight.” He grunted.
He was going slow so he wouldn’t hurt you, but it wasn’t enough for you. You needed more, you needed to feel all of him in all of you.
“Faster,” You pleaded, arching your back “Faster, fuck me fast.”
“I don’t want to hurt you, baby.” He murmured, his pace still too slow
“You hurt me if you don’t start moving fast.” You groaned, reaching a hand behind you to pull his hips nearer you.
Jake shook his head, amazed “Anything you want.” Like that, he moved faster.
The sound of skin slapping filled the room as well as the squelching ones from your wetness.
“M’gonna fuck you so good,” He said, voice so husky. He took your chin in his grasp and pulled you up, tilting it to the side so he could kiss you.
Finally, he got a taste of your lips, his tongue licking yours, giving delicious strokes.
You moaned in his mouth and he rewarded you with a rather deep thrust that hit your cervix.
He smirked, knowing he had found your sweetest spot, so he kept hitting it repetitively, alternating slow to fast thrusts.
“That’s it,” He snuck a hand on your neck and gently squeezed “Let me hear how good I make you feel.”
You couldn’t almost see straight from the amount of pleasure you were given.
He licked your ear, then pressed wet kisses down your jaw, occasionally sucking.
Your pussy clenched around him, signalling that you were close to your orgasm.
“Jake,” You breathed out “Jake, m’so close.”
His free hand went to your clit, gently rubbing circles that sent jolts of pleasure through your body.
“Ugh!” You moaned, the knot in your stomach snapping, making you cream all over his cock.
Jake gave you slow thrusts, helping you ride out of your orgasms and waiting for you to come down off your high.
Your eyes flickered open as you flopped on the mattress, your body growing tired.
Jake pulled out, making you frown “W-what about you?” You asked quietly.
“I’d love to continue baby, but it’s easier to get pregnant during your heat and I have no condoms.” He explained, pressing a featherlight kiss on your shoulder.
How he wasn’t yet a slave of lust, you didn’t know.
“But..” You wanted to argue but your reason was gone, even the lust, replaced by an immense tiredness.
Jake helped you lay down properly, caressing your sweaty forehead “I don’t want to take advantage of you, if we keep going I won’t be able to pull away.”
He leaned down to press another kiss on your lips “Rest, I’ll clean you up and stay with you, ok?”
You only managed to softly hum as your eyelids grew heavy and his voice grew faint until the world was just black.
⪩⪨.
When you felt the second wave hit, you had half expected to wake up in a pool of sweat and slick.
Definitely, not with Jake’s nose rubbing your clothed pussy, inhaling your sweet smell.
“Jake?” You asked, your voice laced with sleep.
He raised his face and looked up at you, his eyes bloodshot. You couldn’t control your pheromones while you slept and they drove Jake insane, making him lust drunk.
“I’m sorry,” He murmured, giving your pussy another smell “Really need to taste you.”
You still felt groggy from your deep slumber when he slipped your panties down and smelled them again.
“Christ,” Jake groaned, slipping them into his sweatpants’ pocket.
He placed gentle kisses on your thighs and raised your legs, letting them rest on your shoulders.
Jake’s breath fanned against your pussy, making you let out a whiney exhale. He smirked and licked a long stripe out of your wet folds.
He moaned, really moaned, at the taste of you and you couldn’t help but glance down at the man between your legs.
He was drop dead gorgeous, with two deep brown eyes, messy hair and the expression of a starved man ready to dig in for his long awaited meal.
Jake gave you kitten licks again, alternating soft kisses to sucking.
You moaned, throwing your head back. You had always fantasised about how good getting eaten out felt like, but Jake must’ve been the masters of it because lord, if he made you see stars.
Your pussy was dripping with arousal, your juices coating his face, running down his chin.
But he didn’t mind, instead, he tried to gather them all on his tongue so as not to miss anything.
He buried his face between your legs, your feet locking behind his neck.
“You need to keep them open, baby.” He murmured on your clit, “Alright? Can you do that for me?”
You let out a broken hum in response, your mind just filled with unholy thoughts of him. You just barely opened your legs for him.
You needed him to make you cum, over and over again, to teach you everything he knew, in all the positions he liked.
“Good girl,” Jake whispered before downing again, his tongue lapping on your bundle of nerves.
He thrust one finger inside of you, gently curling it to reach your sweet spot, making you a moaning mess.
“Ugh..” You yelped, your back arching, “Pussy so good.” He said between licks “Could do this all day.”
You groaned and put one hand on his head, fingers grasping his locks “Less talking, more licking.”
Jake loved how desperate you were, so different from your usually collected and shy attitude.
You were clouded by lust and all of that was for him, he was really the luckiest alpha on earth.
Your hips bucked against his tongue, you were so close to your orgasm you could feel the knot in your stomach tighten.
“Jake...” You breathed out, and he understood what you meant. He removed his finger from you and put his tongue instead, the sensation so new and wet.
His nose brushed against your clit and he patted your waist, signalling that you could start moving.
Both your hands grabbed his hair, riding his tongue, your hips bucking fast against him.
He moaned, sending vibrations all through your body. You rolled your eyes back, “M’so-so close.” You murmured “M’gonna cum.”
If Jake’s mouth was free, he would’ve cooed at how cute you looked, so lost in pleasure you couldn’t even speak properly.
With a few more strong bucks, your legs shook around his neck, your orgasm reaching you like a tidal wave.
You pulled his hair so hard it hurt, but Jake didn’t mind. No, he actually liked it.
“Ride it out,” He murmured “Fuck my tongue, baby.”
You slowly calmed down, your legs fell down on Jake’s sides, your chest heaving slowlier.
You peeled your eyes open, glancing down at Jake.
He had been humping the mattress, as if eating you out was a source of pleasure for him as well.
You could see that the precum leaking from his bulge had stained his sweats, his chest already bare.
“Can I ride you?” You asked such a filthy question so innocently that Jake could’ve cum on spot.
“You want to ride me, baby?” You nodded shamelessly while he chuckled, patting your leg “Get up.”
You followed his lead, getting up so he could take your position. He leaned his back against your bed’s headboard and held out his hands to you.
You took them in yours as he helped you sit on his lap.
Jake’s hands settled on your waist while yours on his shoulders, your hips slowly rocking on his.
He groaned, his head thrown back against the headboard. “You feel so good.” His smirk made you want to do many unspeakable things to him.
Swiftly, he removed your shirt and started touching your warm breasts, teasing your nipples.
He tilted you towards him and latched his mouth on one, kissing and swirling his tongue around your nipple while kneading the other.
You moaned, rewarding him with a rather deep grind, feeling his whole length underneath you.
Suddenly, a thought crossed your blackened mind “Breed me.”
Jake stopped his work on your breasts and looked up at you, his brows furrowing.
Something in his brain was trying to warn him, but he was far too deep to even care “Yeah? You want me to breed you?”
He circled your waist with one arm and pulled you up, pulling his sweats and boxers down and kicking them off his ankles.
“I want your pups.” You murmured, your voice frail and quiet but full of desire.
Jake groaned, his cock twitching “Fuck, baby.”
“I’ll give you my pups,” You pumped his shaft with your hand and held it to your entrance as he slowly lowered you on him “I’ll fill you with my pups.”
The thought of your belly all swollen, your body changing to carry his pups wasn’t such a bad idea… was it?
You wanted everyone to know he was the alpha who took care of you, you wanted— no, you needed him to mate you.
He moved you up and down, slowly at first, so you could get used to him, but then he snapped his hips up into yours forcefully.
He debated whether to let you ride him or to just take the lead and fuck into you, but his control had crumbled long time ago and all he needed was to breed you.
The desire was consuming the both of you, leaving the room only with moans, grunts, heavy breaths and filthy sounds.
You sincerely hoped your neighbours weren’t to hear your late night activities.
You wrapped your arms around Jake’s neck, burying your face in the crook of his neck. You left kitten kisses and sucked on his skin, making his head spin.
You fit so well in his arms and he fit so well inside of you.
“Pussy was made for me,” He grunted, his pace picking up “Mh, Were you made for me, baby? Aren’t you my omega?”
You nodded, your walls sucking him in, squeezing around him “I’m yours,” You cried out “I’m yours, all of me.”
Jake’s eyes lit up “Yeah?” He chuckled, placing one hand on your lower stomach. He could feel the shadow of his bulge under his palms.
“Do you feel it, baby? I’m here.” You felt him press down, earning a moan from you.
You looked down to where his hand was and almost came on spot “So— S’deep.” You threw your head back.
He circled your hips, making your clit brush against his pubic hair.
“You like it deep?” He asked, his voice low, his accent thicker when he was lost in lust. “You like it when I’m so deep you can feel me everywhere?”
You nodded mindlessly, your eyes squeezing as you felt your second orgasm approach “Like it!” You exclaimed “Like it so much, Jake, please.”
Jake groaned in answer and goped your ass, lifting you up so he could fuck into you.
His hips moved fast, his balls smacking on your skin. You grasped his shoulders and bit down on his neck, the pleasure he was giving you was overwhelming all your senses.
“Fuck, baby, I’m so close.” He murmured, his grip on you so tight it left red marks.
“Jake, oh lord—” You cried out, feeling your orgasm approach “Cum around my cock.” He whispered, his lips so close to your ear it sent shivers in your body.
“Mh— Ah.” You moaned as your euphoria reached you, your legs trembling and body squirming. If it wasn’t for Jake’s iron grip, you would’ve fallen out of your small bed.
But he didn’t care that you needed to calm down, not really, because his hips continued to snap against yours.
His cock was in so deep he hit your cervix with every thrust, sending waves of pleasure all around your body.
Your ears rang from your powerful orgasm, your breath laboured. Overstimulation made your body tremble. But still, you didn’t feel complete.
“Cum in me.” You managed to whisper in his ear, your arms clinging to him for dear life. “Please Jakey, I need you to breed me.”
That was all it took. Jake’s movements altered, his cock twitching inside of you as his balls emptied.
You felt his hot seed filling you up, but soon it was followed by a sharp pain.
“Ugh!” You groaned, tears filling your eyes “J-jake…”
He cursed under his breath, his orgasm still washing over him. It had never happened that he came so much like that time, liquid spurring inside of you.
“Shit baby, I’m sorry,” He breathed out “I may have knotted you.”
“What?!” You widened your eyes, back to your normal self. Your worried and overthinker self.
You tried to move away from him but the sharp pain came back.
“Shh, don’t move.” Jake instructed “It’ll hurt more if I pull out now,”
“It hurts either way!” You groaned, clinging on him like an anchor.
“I know, I’m sorry.” He pressed featherlight kisses on your neck “The first time always hurts, but I swear it gets better.”
“I’m dying here.” You whimpered, but Jake’s touch was soothing and so were his words and a few minutes later, the pain stopped.
Slowly, he pulled out of you and kissed your temples “You okay?”
You nodded, now that there was nothing tied up inside of you, you felt refreshed. Happier. You didn’t even feel any discomfort caused from the heat.
Jake smiled softly and caressed your cheek, he leaned in to whisper “Knotting helps with your heat pain.”
“But it hurts like a bitch.” You frowned, watching as he carefully placed you down on the bed and cleaned you up with a tissue.
Jake chuckled, “I told you, it gets better.”
⪩⪨.
And it did, Jake was no liar.
The morning after he was kind enough to drive you to the doctor who gave you a prescription to take birth control. He said it would be better than fully stopping your heat.
He also reassured that the percentage to get pregnant was high after a knot (nagging at Jake for losing control), but as long as you took the pill within twenty-four hours, it would slow or block the process completely.
You hoped for the latter.
Obviously, he highly recommended to always use protections and to avoid knotting… but, you used a condom just a couple of times, because your heat wouldn’t get better unless Jake fucked you raw and filled you wih his seed.
In fact, he took you in the shower, on the couch and even in the kitchen. Any time was a good time to eat you out and stuff you full.
The only place left ‘holy’ was his room, but he said it’d be filthy once his rut started. Which, by the way, you agreed to help him through.
Jake even skipped his lectures to stay at home with you and provide you whatever you needed. Not like he attended much on a daily basis.
Everything went smoothly, he was so caring towards you, always looking after you when you passed out from the intense sex, even cooking for you (even if he burnt the pan and you two had to order out) and giving you nice massages until your heat completely stopped.
However, it was around a month later, when you came out of the bathroom with teary eyes and a positive pregnancy test in hand that you and Jake realised you had taken it too far.
2K notes · View notes
ellecdc · 2 months ago
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I will bite (lol mating bite)
Remus with a best friend!reader who thinks her feelings for him are unrequited
his alpha presentation clicks in when she first presents as an omega - he immediately realizes they’re mates and is delighted, she doesn’t know he likes her and is freaking out that he’s going to feel trapped
🫣.......... okay twist my arm why don't you ;) jk - this theme/trope has been a bit of a brainworm/hyperfixation for me for a few weeks so thank you for indulging me, and sorry to my readers who this might not be their taste! but I definitely had fun with it so you may have to brace yourselves for more of it from me lol
Remus Lupin x best friend!reader who presents as an omega [3.5k words]
p1 // p2
CW: fem!reader, a/b/o dynamics and omegaverse, very soft a/b/o descriptions, SFW [nothing explicit or sexual in this fic], first a/b/o fic I've written so I'm truly just dipping my toes in lol, feelings of unrequited love [but its actually requited]
Loving Remus came as naturally as breathing to you; every inhale was the sweet smell of chocolate, warm sweaters, and worn books, and every exhale was a quiet whisper of “I love you” that you prayed to every deity he couldn’t hear.
Loving Remus was natural, but it was also harrowing; no one chooses to experience unrequited love, it’s simply one of those things that happens upon you. 
But no matter how painful the fact that your feelings weren’t reciprocated was, the wholehearted comfort that being around Remus brought you was almost worth the heartache. 
There was something in your soul that relaxed the second Remus was near; your entire being unclenched, knowing you were somehow safer, somehow more sound now that he was here.
And you hoped that, if nothing else, you provided the same for him. 
The two of you had been friends for years; becoming fast friends in first year over your shared love of muggle literature and the fact that the two of you were a touch more shy than your respective peers. 
The friendship never dimmed over time - if anything, it only became stronger with every passing year. No matter how mischievous his new friends were or how much trouble he got into with them around, no matter how many school yard crushes left either of you melancholy, no matter how many failed papers or late night study sessions that turned into heated spats because the two of you were far too overtired to handle anything maturely, and no matter how the moons came and went that effectively waxed and waned the Remus you knew in much the same way, the friendship had weathered it all.
It was one of your greatest possessions - this friendship you shared with Remus - and one of your proudest accomplishments.
And you weren’t going to let a silly crush (or, in your case, your gut-wrenching and undying devotion) ruin it. 
Which is how you found yourself walking up the steps to James and Lily’s flat for your surprise party, preparing yourself to be surprised because Sirius insisted they throw you one but Remus knew you hated surprises and had warned you about it prior to your arrival. 
You were admittedly not feeling up to a party - the telltale tickle in your throat warning you of an impending cold - though you were sure you wouldn’t have felt quite up to a party whether you were poorly or not. Parties were never quite your thing; you loved your friends, and you loved spending time with them, but that many of them in one place at one time and all for you felt a little bit like torture. 
But you knocked on the door which was flung open before your hand even made its second knock and there was a sea of people cheering “happy birthday!” but your eyes - of course - found Remus first, and suddenly, you didn’t think this was torture. Suddenly this was heaven. 
“Wha- you guys!” You started, smiling as James gave you a bone crushing hug, eyes never leaving Remus’. 
“Surprise!” Lily giggled as she elbowed James out of the way to give you her own hug. “Were you surprised?”
“What do you mean ‘were you surprised’? I still am!” You agreed quickly, embracing Sirius who was next in line.
“Moony told you, didn’t he?” He murmured quietly into your hair, causing you to snort. 
“Am I that bad an actor?” You asked him quietly, causing him to chuckle as he rubbed his hand up and down your back. 
“No,” He answered quickly, “but he is just that soft on you.” 
You hardly had a moment to consider what Sirius had said when Marlene was yanking you from his grasp to pepper your face in kisses as he shook his head over at his friend and started giving him shit for ruining the surprise. 
After greeting every guest in attendance, you finally made it to Remus who wasted no time in pulling you into his chest.
“Happy birthday, dove.” He murmured into your hair; and you had sort of wished that the only plan you had for the rest of the night was to stay within his warm embrace. 
“Sorry for getting you into trouble with Sirius.” You murmured back into his chest, delighting in the rumble of his laugh you elicited.
“Worth it; couldn’t handle you being miffed with me all night for not warning you.”
You - regretfully - pulled away to shoot him a bemused expression. “I could never spend an entire night miffed with you, Moons.” 
Remus hummed noncommittally as he scanned your face. “Any amount of time would have been too much for me- hey, are you feeling okay?” 
His face took on a concerned form that you found him too pretty to wear, and you suddenly felt bone-deep distress at having caused it.
“Why? I’m fine; do I not look fine?” You asked worriedly, bringing a hand up to your own face which was perhaps warm, but you weren’t feeling clammy. 
The corner of his mouth twitched, though the furrow between his brows was ever present. “You look perfect, as usual, just… are you feeling alright?” 
You let out a sigh, looking anywhere but his piercing gaze. “I think I’ve got a cold coming on, I’ll be alright though.” 
His mouth pinched worriedly as he ducked trying to get you to make eye contact with him. “We don’t have to stay long then, yeah?”
You snorted as you gave him an unimpressed look. “We don’t have to stay long at the party for me that was thrown in part by you?”
“Right.” He agreed readily.
“I’ll be fine, Rem.” You assured him, patting his hand placatingly. “It’s my party, I can sniffle if I want to.”
And though he didn’t seem particularly convinced, he let you go when Sirius and Marlene announced that it was time to dance. 
°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
You were taking a breather in the small kitchen of James and Lily’s flat when you started to feel slightly worse.
The tickle in your throat had officially turned into an ache in your chest, and your head was pounding - be that from the music, the dancing, the drinks, or whatever flu you were coming down with, you couldn’t be certain. 
But you found yourself feeling better as you let your head fall back against the cool wall; your hair falling away from your neck and allowing the air circulating the room to hit your overly hot neck and chest.
Maybe you should try to leave early?
“I’ll check.” You heard Remus announce; your face breaking out into a grin on its own accord as he came around the corner.
“Y/N.” He breathed out. “Are you alright?” He asked, standing in front of you with that damned furrow in his brow again.
“I’m alright.” Now, was left unsaid, but something in the tilting of his head alerted you to the fact that he heard it anyway. 
“What’s gotten into you, hm?” He asked slowly; words stilted as his eyes darted across your face, mostly speaking to himself as he searched your form for answers. 
“Did you find her?” James called out, causing Remus’ neck to crane as he peered around the door frame; and that’s when it hit you.
Chocolate, warm sweaters, and worn books.
Remus.
His scent. 
Your head fell forward as you took a deeper breath, and the remnants of whatever cold you were catching dissipated.
And the whole evening clicked into place; the discomfort, his incessant worry and focus on you, you felt better for a moment because he was near - not because you took a moment to breathe, he could tell you were…
Oh god.
“Y/N.” He said again, alerting you to the fact that he was now standing rigidly still and staring at you imploringly. “What-”
“This can’t be happening…” You whispered, eyes glued to the point just under Remus’ jaw that was so disturbingly close yet somehow not nearly close enough. 
“Are- are you…” Remus started, his gaze settling somewhere near your shoulder as he leaned closer to you and took a deep breath through his nose.
As if you scalded him, he went flying backwards from your being - his back making contact with the fridge so violently that it sent magnets flying.
Fuck, fuck! Fuck, he was going to hate you, now, surely? He hated you.
He hated you because he wanted you, but he only wanted you because you were fucking presenting - why? Why now? Why today? Why to him?
He’s never wanted you before; and now he would only want you because he was - what was very clear now - an Alpha and you were, apparently, an Omega.
Fuck.
“Fuck.” You hissed as you pushed the heels of your palms into your eyes until you could see stars.
“Dove-”
“No!” You shouted, pulling your hands away to see him having frozen in reaching out to you, now lifting his hands as if fending off a wild animal.
“Fuck, I need air.” You blurted, and you took off out the front door. 
°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
The evening air did little to quell your nerves and nausea over the events of the night. 
To present, tonight out of all nights, in a tiny flat with nowhere to run without causing a scene.
Not to mention the precariousness of your relationship with Remus that you valued over everything was now hanging by a thread. 
“You couldn’t have found us a more comfortable place to sit, gorgeous?” You heard Sirius drawl as he (loudly) took a seat on the curb beside you.
“I’m terribly sorry to have inconvenienced you so, Sirius.” You responded dryly. 
“You ought to be.” He continued. “This is not how I wanted to spend your birthday party.”
“Oh, fuck off.” You scoffed, elbowing him in the side causing him to sway as if you’d put any real force behind it. 
“If you fuck on, you get better results.”
You snorted. “Yeah, and if you fuck around you’ll find out.”
“Mmm, saucy, I like where this is going.”
“Padfoot.” You begged miserably, and he let out a relenting sigh before he pulled you roughly into his side, leaving his arm draped over you as you laid your head on his shoulder. 
“What are you doing?”
“I’m sitting on a curb outside.” You answered, earning you a pinch in the side.
“I can see that; I mean, what are you doing out here by yourself? Why aren’t you inside with your man?”
“Stop it, Sirius.” You spat, hastily sitting up and wiping angrily at your face.
“Merlin, you both really are that thick, aren’t you?” He muttered, searching your face like it would somehow answer his question.
“If you’re out here to make fun of me, you can go back inside. I’m humiliated enough.”
Sirius shook his head sadly. “I don’t understand why the two of you are making this harder than it needs to be; you’re both clearly mad for each other, you’re out here feeling sorry for yourself because you think he doesn’t want you, he’s in there feeling sorry for himself because he doesn’t think you want him.”
“He doesn’t want me, Sirius. We’ve always only been friends.”
“But you want him?” He asked then, causing you to put your head in your hands.
“Sirius, please, don’t-”
“Do you want him?” He asked again, more forceful this time. “Simple question, Y/N, yes or no.”
“Yes!” You let out with a sob. “Yes! I’ve always wanted him! I’ve- fuck, I’ve been mad about him for years and… yes. Yes, I want him.” The end of your sentence trailing off as you picked angrily at your nail beds.
Sirius seemed to steal himself for a moment, nodding his head as he sucked in a breath.
“I started calling him Moony before I ever knew of his lycanthropy.” He admitted then; and though you weren’t looking in his direction, you could feel his gaze burning a hole in the side of your head. 
Sirius let that sit in the air before he got up and stood in front of you, forcing you to look up at him. 
“I called him that because of the way he was always mooning after you.”
“Then why’d he freak? Why’d he rip away from me like that?” You asked - voice disturbingly small as you looked up at one of your oldest friends.
“Why’d you run?”
You let out a sigh and looked at the streetlights across the street instead of admitting “because I’m a coward”. 
“I can’t lose him, Pads. I-” Stopping as a painful shiver shook your frame - the cold taking over again now that you had some distance from your…
From Remus.
But Sirius didn’t rush you, he just continued standing in front of you as you struggled to find the words. 
“I can’t lose him.” You settled on. 
“Then don’t.” He said, toeing your shoe with his. 
“It’s not that simple.” You argued.
“It can be.” A voice sounded from behind you but a moment before you smelled him. 
And though the rational part of your brain wanted to brace yourself, the rest of your body immediately softened in his presence. 
“Well I’m going to go back in and enjoy the kick ass party I threw, so, if the two of you don’t mind…” Sirius said haughtily, shooting you a wink so that you knew it was all in jest and clapping Remus on the back before disappearing back into the building. 
You listened as Remus lowered himself onto the curb beside you; guilt flooding through you at the way his joints cracked audibly and at the fact that he seemed to be leaving quite a bit of distance between the two of you that he wouldn’t have even just a few hours ago. 
“Are you okay?” He started, and you fought the urge to scoff.
No, you thought petulantly, not only do I feel like shit, I’m also at risk of losing the thing that means the most to me.
“I’m fine.” You responded shortly, fixated on the skin surrounding your fingernails as you refused to look in his direction. “You alright?”
“No.” Remus answered quickly, and you did look up at that.
He was staring at you imploringly, his brows furrowed both with sympathy and perhaps a little bit of frustration. 
“Why’d you run?” He asked then.
“I-” you started, though you weren’t exactly sure anymore. “You…you seemed so startled, I… I thought you were upset.”
He seemed to pause as he considered your response; this sort of caution not usual for the two of you this far into your friendship. 
“I had just found out that the girl of my dreams was an Omega, and when she was clearly distraught, I was caught leaning in to get a better sniff.” He deadpanned, shaking his head at himself as he looked out across the street. “I startled because I was certain I was going to startle you.”
“I- you’re not? Startled, that is.”
His brows furrowed slightly as he shook his head, turning back to look at you. “Why would I be?”
“But…we’ve never been…more than friends; I didn’t want that to change now, just because you felt it had to.”
“It doesn’t have to.” He responded simply, and for reasons you weren’t willing to think on right now, that sentiment caused something very unpleasant to churn in your gut. 
“Nothing would have to change; you could still be you and I could just be me, and that would be fine. Is that what you want?” 
He held your gaze defiantly as you gaped at him. “I- but,”
“Is that what you want, dove?” He asked again, a slight force in his tone this time as he turned his body towards yours and his eyes flit down to your lips. “Because it is taking everything in my power not to claim you as my own right here, right now. I have wanted this for so long; so I ask you again, is that what you want? For nothing to change?”
“No.” You blurted quickly. 
“No?”
“No.” You whispered, shaking your head as you turned your body to face him too. “No, no. I want you, I need you-”
“Now? You want and need me now, or-”
“Fuck, I’ve wanted you since fourth year, Remus. Since I figured out why I hated Emmeline Vance so much.” You practically sobbed.
“Why?” He asked softly, looking like his lip wanted to tip up into a smile though he was dutiful of your current upset. “Because she fancied me?”
“Because you fancied her.” You corrected miserably. Remus finally brought his hand up to cup your cheek at that, and you hardly had a moment to feel embarrassed at the way you quickly turned your head into his wrist so you could get a better smell of him.
“My poor, sweet girl.” He cooed softly, a sympathetic sound emanating from the back of his throat at the sound that his phrase elicited from you. “I’m so sorry.”
“Please.” You whispered, no longer trying to withhold the desperation from your voice as you kept your nose pressed to the inside of his wrist and your eyes screwed shut.
“Okay.” He whispered back, even though he had no idea what you were begging him for - you supposed it didn’t matter; he didn’t seem particularly inclined to deny you anything you wanted right now. 
“Rem-”
“I know.”
“Please.”
“I’m right here, dove.” He whispered, pulling you towards him by your hand as you followed all too willingly. “I’m right here.” He whispered again, nose brushing yours before you closed the distance between the two of you.
The sound of the traffic faded away, as did the tarmac beneath you and the air around you; you seemed to be floating in a vast expanse that contained nothing but you and Remus.
You took a moment to mentally kick yourself as you deepened the kiss - nipping at his lower lip and causing him to smile before granting you access - that you could have been, should have been, doing this for years. 
“Ugh, fuck.” Remus muttered as he broke the kiss and rested his head against yours, seeming truly distraught at having to interrupt.
You didn’t even have a chance to ask what was wrong before you heard cheering from above you.
“Fucking finally!” James shouted as he pulled the tab of a party popper, showering the street below his balcony with multicoloured  confetti. 
“Pay up bitches; I told you this was the year.” Lily continued, holding her hand out expectantly as Marlene begrudgingly placed a few galleons into her friend's hand. 
“Oi!” Remus shouted at the group, a protective arm snaking around your middle as he held you closer to him as if he was worried you’d simply float away, “You better pay Pads his fair share then!”
You snorted and shoved your face into Remus’ neck - hiding your face as a ploy to get closer to him without it being nearly close enough. 
Remus chuckled as your friends filed back into the apartment and the world returned to its normal volume, bringing his free hand up to knead at your scalp in a way that made you want to purr like a sodding cat. 
“Fuck.” He breathed out, looking down at you with an expression nothing short of worship.
“You okay?” You asked then, bringing one hand up to draw a line down the bridge of his nose, simply because you could now.
“I’m perfect, you’re perfect.” Remus pressed, punctuating the sentiment with a kiss before he pressed his nose against the spot on your neck just past your jaw.
You instinctually let your head fall back; his hand tightening in your hair as he let out a sound halfway between a laugh and growl.
“Don’t sodding do that.” He scolded you playfully. 
“What?” You asked - half innocently half abashedly. 
“Submit to me, you minx.” He explained, booping you on the nose for extra effect. “Let me at least take you out on a date, first.”
A date, you echoed in your head; you had spent a lot of time daydreaming as a girl about what your first date with Remus would look like. You’d always imagined spending the day in Hogsmeade buying sweets and gobstones and books and quills before heading back up to the castle.
This was turning out way better already, though.
“So long as I don’t have to share you with James.” You joked, peering over Remus’ shoulder where you could see James peeking through the curtains before a flash of a camera went off.
“Hm…I’m not sure I can promise that for the first date, but definitely for the second.” 
“Deal.” You agreed readily, because really, you’d have Remus just about anyway you could have him. 
And you were simply overjoyed to know that he apparently felt the same.
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soaps-mohawk · 9 months ago
Text
Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 2 - Adjustments
Summary: You're struggling a bit in your adjustment to your new life, and you're finding some of them are easier to get along with than others. Luckily you're not in it alone.
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader
Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, let's be real this is so unrealistic but it's a/b/o you're not here for accuracy.
Author's Note: I'm so just overwhelmed with the attention this fic has gotten, but not in a bad way I promise! I'm just surprised is all. Thank you everyone that has read and reblogged and commented. I love all of you and so, since I have no self control, here is Chapter 2. Lots more world building and dialogue in this part, but I promise good stuff is coming.
Also I promise Soap will get his time soon. He's just the hardest for me to write, and you'll see why in this chapter.
MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->
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“She was lying.” 
Price doesn’t bother looking up as a dark figure leans against the wall next to him. He stares out at the empty space between the barracks and the mess hall, not much traffic between the buildings during this time of day. 
“About how she got to the institute.” 
“Or at least not telling the whole truth.” Price says, turning to look at Simon. “Something tells me she’d talk if we asked.” 
“She’s soft.” Simon says, letting his gaze drift off into the distance. 
“She’s a civilian.” Price counters. “The CIA did a little training, but she’ll need some work. We can’t leave her completely defenseless...” 
Simon turns to face him again. “There’s something else.” 
Price pushes himself off the wall, heading back inside. Simon follows, the two of them making their way down the hall to his office. “There’s hundreds of American military bases across the world, thousands of regiments they could have chosen from, and yet, they sent her to us.” 
Simon closes the door behind him as Price sinks into his desk chair. “You think it was deliberate?” 
Price pulls open one of the drawers, pulling out the file Kate had given him. “Laswell said the CIA has had eyes on her for years.” He slides it across his desk to Simon. “There’s a lot of why's in this situation, and a lot of how’s. Like, if what she’s saying is true, how did a Staff Sergeant get his daughter into FIOT practically overnight?” 
Simon glances up at him over the top of the file. “You think there’s something else going on with this Initiative.” 
Price nods. “I do. I think there’s more than one experiment being run, and we’re the guinea pigs.” 
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You stare at your reflection in the mirror as you run a comb through your damp hair. You look tired, the dark circles that have plagued your face for the last few weeks looking even darker now. It’s been a long day, so long it’s hard to believe it’s only been a matter of hours since you boarded the helicopter in London. 
Your new pack had made themselves scarce after dinner, leaving you to your own devices. You had been left alone after lunch too, and you had spent that time laying in bed, resting after the overwhelming scenting. 
You’d played back the last few hours in your mind. Leaving London in the helicopter, meeting your new Pack Alpha, Laswell leaving, meeting your new pack, the scenting. You had plenty to think about, to stress over, and you had been surprised when the knock came at your door for dinner. You were equally surprised to see Gaz and Soap waiting for you. 
You’d been sandwiched between them again as you walked to the mess. It was busier for dinner, and the eyes weren’t quite so quick to look away with the alphas missing. You know they have to be curious, with an omega on base following around two members of a SpecOps team, smelling like them. You know what they were probably thinking of you, what they were thinking your presence means. 
You’ve begun to understand Price’s rules a bit more. 
Price and Ghost had joined you as Soap said they would, coming in late from whatever they had been busy doing. You had been seated next to Soap, Ghost taking his other side while Price sat next to Gaz. It hadn’t gone unnoticed to you how close Soap and Ghost sat, and you remembered the look in Ghost’s eyes when Soap had approached to scent you. How his defensive stare had turned icy, threatening even, when he’d gotten close to you as if you were capable of hurting Soap. It had been a silent warning. If you tried anything, you’d have him to contend with. 
Ghost is territorial, more so than most alphas. You had seen it just a bit in Price, but only because you had been watching for it. Ghost was silent in his claim, but his gaze spoke of his territorialism. As you sat at the table with them, you slowly felt the stares lessen, the curious alphas and betas around you slowly turning away from your table until you were left in peace. You knew it was all thanks to a well-pointed glare from the second alpha at the table. 
They’d escorted you back to the barracks before disappearing again, leaving you alone. You’d opted for a shower to try and clear your head, exhaustion weighing heavy in your limbs but your mind was racing too much to really get any rest. You haven’t been told what their normal schedules entail or even what they look like, but you expect an early morning tomorrow. Since Price had said at least one of them needed to escort you around base, that likely meant you were going to be constrained to their schedules. 
You know even when they’re not away, their days are probably full of training and briefings, much like yours had been for three months. They’re probably up early, earlier than you’d like to be, and then they go non-stop all day. 
You wonder if they ever get a break. 
Maybe this is a break for them. 
You sit on the edge of the bed after you finish your routine, eyeing the pillows and blankets stacked at the end. They’re military issue, not as soft or as plush as you might have preferred. This is your new normal, though. Comfort isn’t exactly going to be a high priority. 
Tears prick your eyes as you run your hand over the comforter. You know it’s the exhaustion, the stress of the day beginning to weigh on you. You’re worn out, and that’s causing a slip in the tight reins you keep on your mood. Omegas and alphas were both prone to being moody, and those who were unrestrained could lose control quickly. Alphas were quick to anger, while omegas could get depressed very easily. Exhaustion drives both to being grumpy, though alphas will descend into irritability and anger, while omegas will get whiny and weepy. 
You hate it, how easily you can be driven to cry. How easily you can lose control. It makes you feel weak and helpless, but that’s partially by design. It was supposed to be your pack’s job to fix that, to give you that support and take care of you. 
Except you don’t know your pack. 
What would they do if you approached them like this, all teary and needy? Would instinct take over and snap them into their roles? Or would they give you an awkward pat on the back and leave you to take care of yourself? Gaz would help you, you think. He had slipped into that role so easily during the scenting. Your fingers twitch on the bedspread, your mind telling you to seek him out, track him down, even if it’s only to catch a whiff of his scent again.  
Your phone screen lights up where it’s sitting on the nightstand, drawing your attention from the door. Kate had given you the phone just this morning before you left the hotel. It had her number on it, as well as your pack’s. You’d half expected to find messages already from them when you’d turned it on, but there had been none. They had kept that boundary of meeting in person first. 
You pick up the phone, checking the message. It’s from Price. 
Breakfast is at 0700. I’ll take you to see the Omega Specialist after. 
Seven o’clock. It’s not terribly early. You’d eaten around the same time at the institute. You’ll get to meet the Omega Specialist as well tomorrow. You’ve met plenty of them in your time as an omega, but something about the idea of having someone there who knows, who understands is comforting to you. 
You send a reply in acknowledgement for tomorrow’s plan before setting an alarm for tomorrow morning. There’s an uneasy feeling under your skin, a tickling in the back of your mind that you can’t seem to relax. Your eyes are drawn to the desk where the shirts still sit, and before you know it you’re moving to the desk, letting your fingers trail over each one. 
You grab Price’s shirt, taking it back to your bed. You curl up with your back facing the door, holding the shirt against your chest, letting the scent of tobacco smoke and whiskey fill your nose. Silent tears slide down your cheeks, your face pressing into the pillow to muffle your sobs. 
As you try to muffle your tears, you miss the sound of boots pausing in front of your door, the person on the other side standing there for a moment before continuing down the hall. 
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You let out a groan as your alarm pulls you from sleep. You had drifted in and out for a few hours before finally managing to get a couple precious hours of sleep. You’d woken when the others got up. You knew they were trying to be quiet but you had heard them shuffling around, talking quietly amongst each other. You’re normally a fairly deep sleeper, but in a new place you always struggle. 
A new place surrounded by almost complete strangers. 
You turn off your alarm, sitting up and rubbing your eyes. They’re burning a bit, the exhaustion still weighing heavy on your shoulders. You pad to the bathroom, splashing cold water on your face to try and make yourself at least look more alive than you feel. The last thing you need is them getting worried about you. That’s attention you’re not sure you want right now. 
You blink sleepily at your closet, trying to decide what to wear. Were you allowed to wear anything? You didn’t have much besides the basics, since the only thing you had been allowed to wear at the institute was its uniform and the clothes they provided. Then when you were with the CIA, they had provided clothes for you to wear as well. The things you have now had been bought by Kate before you left D.C. 
Everyone on base wore similar variants of the same uniform. You’re not military, though, so you don’t think those rules apply to you. No one had said anything about your state of dress yesterday. You opt for comfort, knowing you’d likely find out soon if you were going to be forced to dress differently too. 
You’re tying your shoes when the knock sounds on your door. You had heard the others moving around, footsteps in the hallway, opening and closing doors, quiet voices talking and Soap laughing at something. You know it’s one of them, yet the nervous tickle at the back of your head is back. 
Soap is leaning casually against your doorframe when you open the door. His face lights up in a smile as he sees you. “Morning, bonny. Sleep alright?” 
“Yeah.” You shrug. “Tossed and turned for a while.” 
“We didne keep ye up did we?” He asks, his smile faltering just a bit. 
You shake your head. “No, I never sleep well the first few nights in a new place.” 
“Well, our beds are always open if ye need something more comfortable.” He winks at you playfully. 
Your face warms at his words, the double meaning not lost on you. You were right, Soap was going to be the one to push your boundaries the most. 
Gaz elbows him in the ribs as he passes. “She’s been here a day, mate, don’t go scaring her off now.” He leans on the other side of your doorframe, giving you a smile. “Morning.” 
“Morning.” You say, your face still warm from Soap’s teasing. 
“You hungry?” Gaz asks. 
You nod. You do feel hungry this morning, likely a side effect from your emotional night last night. You step out of your room, the two betas stepping back to give you space as you close the door behind you. Ghost is leaning against the wall next to his door, his eyes watching with the typical cautious disinterest that seemed to be his default setting. 
Gaz and Soap sandwich you between them again, close enough their arms brush yours as you walk. It was almost as if they could sense your inner turmoil, the neediness still tugging at the back of your mind. If Ghost hadn’t been trailing the three of you, you might have been tempted to give in and grip their sleeves, or slip your hands into theirs. How would Ghost respond to such a bold move? The mental image of your body flying through the air as he punted you into next week almost makes you laugh. 
Price is already seated at a table frowning at his phone over a cup of coffee. Gaz and Soap load up your tray for you, something you’re getting used to rather quickly. It was expected from the alphas, or at least Price, to coddle you a bit, but it seemed the betas were more than happy to get in on it as well. 
The thought makes something flutter in your chest. 
You’re seated between Gaz and Price again once you reach the table, Price greeting you with a tired smile. “Morning. Sleep alright?” 
“Not really.” You say honestly. “New place and all. I’ll settle in eventually.” 
“Maybe the Omega Specialist can give you some ideas to help.” He glances at his watch before looking at you as you spoon a heaping spoonful of porridge into your mouth. “Take your time. We have until 8.” 
You listen to the conversation at the table as you eat, Gaz and Soap talking about a football game that’s on tonight. You feel eyes on you, your skin prickling a bit. You glance up, half expecting Ghost to be glowering at you again, but his gaze is focused on his eggs. You cast a quick glance around the mess, turning slightly to look behind you. 
Three tables over, you find the gaze of some soldier focused on you. You haven’t paid much attention to anyone else on the base, but then again you haven’t had much time or reason to yet. You can’t read the expression on his face as he stares at you, but you feel a shiver run down your spine as your eyes meet his. 
He stares at you for a few seconds before his gaze moves slightly past you, quickly dropping back to his plate. You turn around, finding Ghost staring just past your head. His eyes are narrowed, his scent coming off stronger than it had been. You can practically see his hackles raised, the warning clear in the air. You feel the urge to curl in on yourself, the threatening aura radiating from him makes you want to cower. 
It doesn't go unnoticed by those at the table either. 
“Easy, Ghost.” Price says calmly, Gaz turning to follow his line of sight. 
“Bloody wanker.” Ghost grumbles before rising from the table. 
You turn back around, but the soldier that had been staring at you is gone. 
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You nervously pick at your sweatshirt sleeves as you sit in the plastic chair next to Price. You’re still on edge a bit from what happened at breakfast. It wasn’t so much being stared at that bothered you. After now three meals in the mess, you’ve almost come to expect it. It’s Ghost’s reaction that has your mind still reeling. 
“I’ve always hated the medical center.” Price says with a sigh as he leans his head back against the wall. “It smells too sterile. Makes my nose burn. Reminds me of too many close calls.” 
His words jar you a bit. You hadn’t even thought about that aspect of his job. He’s used to getting shot at, to getting into fights, running head first into danger that would send most running the other way. You wonder how many times he’s been the one with the close call, and how many others he’s had to watch have their own. 
You wonder how many times he’s had to make that trip to tell someone’s family. 
You’re pulled from your thoughts as the door across from you opens. Price pushes himself to his feet, and you follow as a kind looking woman steps out. You breathe a quiet sigh of relief. You don’t have anything against male Omega Specialists, but you were already surrounded by men. Sure you have Kate, but she’s half a world away. 
She’s tall, dark hair pulled back into a ponytail. Despite being a doctor she’s dressed casually, no white coat or gloves to be seen. Her eyes are light green and crease in the corners when she smiles. 
“Hello, I’m Dr. Keller.” She introduces herself, shaking Price’s hand. 
American. You think, silently breathing another sigh of relief. Kate really had pulled some strings with this one. 
“Captain John Price.” He says. 
You introduce yourself when she turns to you, shaking your hand. Her voice is soft and gentle, the scent of beta coming off her in waves. 
“Come on in,” She says, leading you into the office. “Sit anywhere you like. Make yourselves comfortable.” 
Her office isn’t what you expected either. Instead of the harsh fluorescents, the lighting is softer, warmer. There’s paintings and posters all over the walls, along with several plants. There’s a desk covered in books and paperwork in one corner and a bookshelf with several books packed into it in the other. There’s a couch on one wall, and a couple plush looking chairs on the other. 
You move to one of the chairs, sinking down onto it. It envelops you in softness, and you feel as if you might sink into it and never be able to get out. After a day of hard plastic and stiff blankets, it nearly makes you weep. 
Price takes the chair next to you, Dr. Keller sitting on the couch across from you. The office smells good, a light, neutral scent in the air aside from the pure almondy scent of beta. 
“Alright,” She says, holding a tablet and a stack of files in her lap. “I always like to start by introducing myself and telling you a bit about me, then we’ll get into the important stuff.” 
She jumps into telling you about herself. Where she grew up: California. Where she studied: UC Berkeley. What institute she did her residency at: West Coast Training Academy. Where she worked last before Kate called her in: some poor inner city institute in LA. 
“Now, on to the more important stuff.” She says, turning on the tablet. “I got your medical records yesterday. You’re quite the healthy girl.” 
“Yes ma'am. I have good genes. That’s what my mom used to say.” You respond. 
Dr. Keller smiles. “Hardly even been sick. Your heats are all normal, too, correct?” 
“Yes, ma’am.” You say. “Except for a three month stretch two years ago.” 
“Yes, the heat sickness epidemic that hit America.” She says. 
You nod. “FIOT locked down completely and everyone was supposed to quarantine, but I heard a rumor that it was one of the beta food workers. She snuck out to see her alpha boyfriend and brought it in with her. We only think it was her because she disappeared not long after the first omega got sick.” 
Dr. Keller hums. “I know not everyone was so willing to take it seriously. You made a full recovery, though. No lasting side effects, I’m sure thanks to the state of the art medical facilities that FIOT keeps.” 
“Yes, ma’am. We were lucky it was just a mild case.” 
“That is lucky.” She flips through something on the tablet. “Your lab results all look phenomenal. I like to do checkups monthly, just to ensure everything is working as it should. I know the CIA gave you quite the cocktail of vaccines while you were with them.” She turns her gaze to Price. “Captain Price, I’ve sent in a request for your team’s vaccination records as well. I’m sure you’ve had everything under the sun, but I’d like to ensure there’s no risk of any accidental exposures.” 
“I don’t see a problem with that.” Price says. “If RAMC gives you any trouble, just let me know. I’ll get them for you myself.” 
“Thank you, Captain.” She says. “One last bit in this part and then we can move on. I see FIOT issued an implant before you left, as is standard practice.” 
You nod. “Yes, ma’am.” 
“Good. You’ve had more than enough time for it to take effect so we won’t have to worry about any accidental slip ups during your next heat.” 
Your cheeks warm at her words a bit. You’ve been trying to avoid thinking about that inevitable side of things. 
“And your next heat is roughly six weeks away.” She says, looking at the calendar. “Don't be surprised if it comes a little earlier now that you’re being exposed to alphas again.” 
Your stomach twists nervously at that thought. It was common for heats to be triggered early after exposure to alphas, especially after such a prolonged period without exposure to them. It wasn’t likely to start tomorrow, but you knew it could jump a week or two due to the natural pheromones alphas put off, and the instinctual call for the alpha/omega bond. 
“You’re planning for the claiming to take place during the heat?” Dr. Keller asks. 
“Yes, that’s the plan.” Price says. 
“That is the most natural time for it.” Dr. Keller says. “Of course, it is always up to omega preference in the end.” 
You don’t miss the way her eyes dart to you for a second. 
“Now that that’s over with,” She says, putting the tablet to the side. “If it’s alright with you, I’d like to do this next part with just the two of us.” 
A beat of silence passes before you realize she’s asking you. Her eyes are on you, and so are Price’s. She’s asking you. She’s asking you what you want. 
“I-I guess...yeah.” You stutter over your words, not quite sure how to answer. Is there a wrong answer? Would Price be upset if you said yes? Would Dr. Keller be upset if you said no? Your eyes turn to Price, trying to gauge his reaction. 
“It’s up to you.” He says softly. “We’re here for you.” 
You sit up a little straighter at his words, nodding your head. “Y-Yes. That’s okay.” 
Price pushes himself to stand up. “I’ll be right outside.” 
The air inside the room seems to lighten as he leaves, Dr. Keller reclining back on the couch as the door clicks shut. She pulls out a stack of papers and a pen before she looks at you. Your palms are sweating, and you’re starting to think you’d like the chair to swallow you whole. 
“This next part can feel a bit personal, but I just want you to know that everything you say in here is as confidential as you’d like it to be. Captain Price is right. I am an Omega Specialist, I’m here for you. I’m not just a doctor, I’m here to help you in all aspects of being an omega. I know FIOT teaches a lot, mainly obedience and compliance. I want to make it clear that you can be honest with me.” She holds up the stack of papers. “No one is going to see these papers but me, alright?” 
“Yes, ma’am.” You nod. 
“You don’t have to be so formal with me.” She smiles. “You can call me Dr. Keller, or Doc. You could even call me an evil bitch if you want, it won’t phase me any.” 
You can’t help the small smile that forms on your face. 
“I’ve got some questions I’d like to ask you. They’re a sort of tracker to measure how well you’re settling in and bonding with your new pack. I’d like to meet once a week until your next heat just to see how well you’re settling in. After that we can meet as often as you’d like. Sound good?” 
You nod in approval. It sounds like a lot, but you also know you’re going to have a lot of downtime, even with your pack on base. 
“Alright, let’s get started. How are you settling in? I know it’s barely been a day, but I want to know how you feel here.” 
Your heart begins to pound in your chest. How do you feel here? How do you feel after being pulled from the institute and taken to a training facility where you found out you’d be moving halfway across the world to be a military pack’s omega. 
This wasn’t what you had expected when you reached the age where you became an available omega. Most omegas at FIOT came from rich, powerful, important families and your purpose there was to be groomed into the perfect omega to return right back to that world. 
You thought you would be chosen quickly. You had expected it. With your scores and your high ratings and your status, you were what most alphas dreamed of. Yet, the years had passed and though there was some interest, nothing had ever come of it. You weren’t alone in it. There were others like you, those who excelled at being an omega, but then seemed to stall in the selection once they came of age. 
Of course, now that you look back on it, you can’t help but think it might have been done on purpose. The Omega Initiative was new, you had been told during your first briefing explaining why you were taken to a remote building somewhere outside of D.C. and greeted not by your new pack, but swathes of CIA agents. Military packs were nothing new, but they wanted to utilize the naturally formed packs and make them stronger and more stable by adding in omegas. 
Only highly skilled omegas were considered for the program, but of course you had no say in whether you were going to partake or not. They chose the omegas and they decided where you would end up. 
It wasn’t that dissimilar from being chosen from an Institute. At FIOT there was a screening process packs had to go through to be determined eligible to have access to omega files. Then the pack would have to send a neutral emissary, usually a beta, to meet the omegas in person and choose on behalf of the alpha. Most institutes don’t have that strenuous of a process, and some don’t have a process at all. In some, alphas themselves could walk in and choose an omega without even so much as a background check. 
Omegas never got a say. As soon as you were handed over to an institute, the ability to choose was taken from you. Whoever your caretakers were as a pup signed over their rights to you and the institute became your legal guardian. They dictated your life up until you joined a new pack. 
You had hoped it would be someone rich. If nothing else, you’d get to live a cushy life and you’d never have to worry about anything. When they told you what was really going to happen to you, you had almost cried. You did cry, late at night curled up in your bunk after hours of training and briefings. 
Kate picked you for this pack specifically because she knew them and she knew you could handle them and their world. 
Maybe if you had been worse at being an omega, things would have been better for you. 
Or maybe they would have been worse. 
“It’s...different.” You finally say, picking at your sleeves again. “But in a lot of ways, it’s similar to The Institute. It always takes me time to settle somewhere new.” 
“Me too.” Dr. Keller says, writing some things down. “And with the time change, it’s just so much harder. I feel like I should be in bed right now, but it’s 8 AM. Have you started nesting?” 
You shake your head. “No. I don’t even feel the urge to.” 
“That’s fine.” She says, writing something else down. “In truth, I’d be more concerned if you were.” 
Your eyebrows raise a bit. “Why?” 
“During an adjustment period for an omega, especially in a new pack, there can be something that happens called false instincts. The sudden urge to nest, a drive to bond with pack members too soon, false heats. It’s usually brought on by a sudden change in environment, like when omegas are taken from a place where they’ve spent sometimes years with no exposure to alphas and are suddenly thrown into a space with a lot of alphas. It’s more common in larger packs where you have alphas, betas, and other omegas.” 
“Could it happen in smaller packs?” You ask. 
“It’s possible, though rare. It can cause some serious issues down the line when those instincts are actually supposed to begin to show up, like adjustment sickness. I’d say if you’re starting to feel the urge to nest or bond before the first week is up, then come talk to me, alright?” 
“Yes, ma’am.” You nod. 
She smiles, turning the page. “How far have you gotten with the bonding process?” 
“Just the scenting yesterday.” You answer. 
“And how did that go?” 
You pick at the loose thread on your sweatshirt. “Fine. It was...overwhelming.” 
“They can be.” Dr. Keller says. “The new members of your pack, how are you getting along with them?” 
“Fine, I guess.” You shrug. “I like Soap and Gaz. Price, he’s...he’s nice, and Ghost...” You trail off, not sure how to answer. If she’d asked before breakfast you might have said he doesn't like you. He doesn’t want you to be part of his pack, but after what happened at breakfast...
You can’t be sure he did it for you. He could have thought that soldier was staring at Soap or Gaz or even Price. He could have thought the soldier was staring at him and was annoyed with it. He had scared off the stares at every meal you’d eaten together, but how often did they get stared at? You couldn’t know if that was a daily occurrence and he was just growing sick of it. 
He could be annoyed with you because you’re drawing in the stares. 
“I don’t know what to think about him yet.” You answer. 
She writes something else down, going through a few more questions with you. How is your appetite? How are you sleeping? Are you taking care of your needs? Do you have any concerns? 
Before you know it the hour has passed and you’re walking out the door into the fluorescent, sterile hallway of the medical center. 
“Remember, you have my number. If you need anything, I’m here for you.” Dr. Keller says as you part ways. 
You walk with Price out of the medical center, glad to be out in the fresh air. It’s not particularly warm, and the sun is hidden behind a layer of clouds, but it’s better than the medical center. 
“What do you think?” Price asks as you follow him back to the barracks. 
“I think it went well.” You say, mind still reeling from an eventful morning. You’re beginning to feel your restless night. 
“Do you like Dr. Keller?” He asks, probing a bit. 
You nod. “Yes, sir. She’s nice.” 
“Good.” He says, opening the door to the barracks for you. “I have to leave to oversee training for the next few hours.” He glances at his watch. “One of us will come get you for lunch.” 
You nod. Of course you’d find yourself alone again between meals. You’re beginning to notice a pattern. “Yes, sir.” 
His hand is warm as it settles on your shoulder, squeezing gently. You’re surprised by the touch, as small as it is. Were they too fighting the urge to get close to you, like you had this morning? 
You can still feel the warmth of his hand even after it’s disappeared and he’s gone. You head for the rec room, deciding to avoid the constricting feeling of being shut in your room for the time being. 
The TV is on when you enter, but the room is empty, playing some morning talk show. You move to the bookshelf against the wall, letting your eyes scan the titles. There's a surprising lack of military-based books shoved into the packed shelf. Of course there's a handful of old manuals and handbooks, nothing that you're particularly concerned about needing to read. You let out a sigh, standing on your toes to reach a Brandon Sanderson novel. 
You look around the room but the remote for the TV seems to be missing, and it’s too high on the wall for you to reach the power button, so you leave it on, curling up on one corner of the couch as you begin to read. 
You’re not sure how much time has passed when something moves in your peripheral. The sun has come out briefly, shining in through the windows. You look up from the book, suddenly feeling very small under Ghost’s gaze. His eyes are narrowed as he stares down at you, a thousand things flashing through your mind. Are you in his spot? Is this his book? Had he come to the rec room hoping to be alone and here you are infringing in his space? 
“Come on.” He says, his voice rougher than it had been this morning. “Lunch.” 
He’s already turned and heading out the door as you scramble up, leaving the book on the coffee table as you hurry to catch up to him. His steps are quick and wide, and you find yourself having to almost speedwalk to keep up with him. 
Your thoughts are jumbled as you follow him out of the barracks and off towards the mess. Why would they send him to get you? Was he the only one available? Yesterday they had time before lunch to return to the barracks, or had that only been because of you? Or were they perhaps hoping this might offer a chance for the two of you to bond a bit? 
Or were they entirely blind to Ghost’s disinterest in your existence? 
Perhaps they were used to it. After so long together, perhaps they just thought it was normal. If you were brave enough to bring it up, would you get a “oh that’s just how he is” in response? 
You can’t see the others as you enter the mess, Ghost leading you to the line. He stands behind you like a hulking shadow, his scent covered by the smell of gunpowder and sweat. You fill your own tray for the first time, grabbing things that look appetizing. You’ll have to get used to it eventually, even though the others insisted on doing it for the time being. When they’re not here, you’ll have to do it yourself. 
Ghost leads you to an empty table, and you opt to sit across from him. You begin to eat, taking big bites to avoid the need for conversation, not that you really thought Ghost would strike up a conversation with you. Your eyes flicker around the room nervously, glancing over the entrances time and time again, waiting for the others to arrive. 
“Stop twitching. They’re on their way.” 
The words cut straight through you and you snap your head around to face Ghost. He’s got his mask pulled up to his nose, your eyes immediately drawn to the exposed pale skin. There’s light stubble on his chin. You remember how that had felt on your own skin when he’d scented you. He’s blonde, you think, or at least has light hair judging by the color of the stubble. There’s a scar on his chin, almost hidden by the stubble. 
Your face warms as you realize you’ve been caught in your nervous fretting. Of course, you should have known he would take notice. There’s not a lot they don’t notice, you think. Though, when your survival depends on noticing even the smallest detail of anything or anyone...
You jump as a tray is set down next to yours, your eyes snapping up to see Gaz with a smile on his face. You turn back to look at Ghost, his mask pulled back down but you see a slight shake to his shoulders for a second.
Was he...laughing at you? 
Your attention is drawn from him as Gaz takes a seat next to you, sitting close enough his arm is almost brushing yours. Price and Soap taking their usual spots as well. You’re beginning to pick up on the patterns that existed around them, and their own patterns. Perhaps that will make it easier for you to fit yourself into their lives. You knew from the start they weren’t going to change to fit you into their lives. They couldn’t. You were going to have to find a way to fit into their lives. 
Gaz walks you back to the barracks after lunch, abnormally quiet as he watches you warily. He walks you to your door, leaning on the doorframe as you step inside. 
“You alright?” He asks, big brown eyes shining with worry as he looks you over. 
“Yeah.” You nod, shifting on your feet. “Just tired. I think I might take a nap.” 
He nods, and you’re sure he doesn't quite believe you, but he doesn’t press any. “Alright. Happy napping.” 
You close the door as he leaves, sinking down onto the edge of the bed with a sigh. It’s been a long day and it’s only lunch. Between the probing questions from Dr. Keller and the few minutes you had spent alone with Ghost you feel exhausted. It was good to know you weren’t entirely broken in your lack of nesting instincts, and perhaps your turmoil with belonging in this place wasn’t quite as abnormal as you thought. 
What to do about Ghost.
He’s said more words to you today than he did in the entirety of the previous day. In fact, you think today might be the first time he’s spoken to you at all. You know he doesn’t approve of you, and you’d go so far as to say he doesn’t like you. You can imagine he fought the hardest against you being added to the pack. They were fine without you. It didn’t take a genius to see that. 
You’re an outsider. A civilian. A risk. 
An unneeded disruption to their lives. 
You pull your phone out of your pocket, staring at the dark screen. You know Ghost might never accept you. He won’t want to claim you, he won’t mate you, but...perhaps you might just get him to tolerate you. 
You unlock your phone, sending a quick text to Kate. 
“Can you get a book for me?”
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You regret your decision momentarily as you step into the rec room. Gaz and Soap are lounged on the couch, beer bottles open on the coffee table. The TV is playing ads, their attention on each other. You almost feel as if you’re infringing upon a private moment as they laugh, half tempted to race back to your room and hide until your hunger draws you out or someone breaks down the door to get to you. 
“Hey!” Gaz’s face lights up when he sees you, Soap turning to look at you.
“Hey, bonny!” His face lights up with a smile. 
“Do you mind if I join you?” You ask, shifting nervously on your feet. 
“Not at all.” Gaz says, patting the empty spot on the couch next to him. “You want a beer?” 
You shake your head. “No thank you. Never could get past the taste.” 
Soap throws his head back as he laughs, slapping Gaz’s shoulder. “I keep tellin’ ye!” 
“Yet you keep drinking it!” Gaz attempts to defend himself. 
“Cause it’s th’ only thing we got!” Soap argues, leaning around Gaz to stare at you. “So, ye a football fan, bonny?” 
“Well, I watched the World Cup a couple times as a kid.” You say. “My household was more of an American football and baseball household. Two of my older brothers played soccer, though they never were very serious about it. Mostly just did it to fulfill my dad’s physical activity extracurricular requirement.” 
“What did you do to fulfill that requirement?” Gaz asks as he takes a sip of his beer. 
“Softball. I was...not good at it.” You laugh. “I could catch and throw, but I don’t think I hit the ball a single time I was at bat.” 
Both of them chuckle, turning back to the TV as the ad ends. “Don’t worry, we’ll turn you into a proper football fan yet.” Gaz says. 
You watch the game with them, and it doesn’t take you long to realize they’re rooting for opposing teams. They explain things to you here and there in between yelling at the TV and each other. Despite how loud they are, you find yourself relaxing further and further, the tension from the last two days easing away, even as the two betas yell at each other over a soccer game. 
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Gaz tenses for a second as he feels a sudden weight on his shoulder. He turns his head slightly, noticing you’ve fallen asleep, your head drooping onto his shoulder. His lips quirk up in a smile as he gently nudges Soap. 
“Wha?” Soap asks, turning to look at him. 
He jerks his head to the side, leaning back just slightly so Soap can see. A grin breaks out on the younger man’s face and he pulls out his phone. “Aww, look a’ that. Think we should wake ‘er and get ‘er tae bed?” 
“Nah.” Gaz says. “Let her sleep for now. She probably needs it.” 
You sleep soundly through overtime, Gaz not moving until the post game is over, letting you sleep as long as possible. He knows you have to be tired, after the last few days and the time difference. You looked tired today, with dark circles and droopy eyes. He hates to wake you, but he knows you can’t sleep on the couch. 
He nudges you gently, trying to rouse you. “Hey.” He nudges you again, your head finally lifting off his shoulder. 
You blink sleepily, rubbing at your eyes. You make a quiet sound in protest of being awake, eyes drooping closed again. 
“Come on, love.” He says, keeping you upright. “It’s time for bed.” 
You cover your yawn with your hand, blinking at him sleepily. “Bed?” You murmur sleepily, Gaz smiling softly at how adorable you are in this state. 
“Yeah, you’ll be more comfortable in bed.” He pushes himself to stand, hands on your arms to pull you up. 
You make another sound in protest, nearly falling against his chest when he gets you on your feet. He wraps an arm around you, letting you lean on him as he guides you back to bed, Soap cleaning up the mess they had made. 
You’re more awake once you get to your door, blinking up at him with bleary eyes. “‘S fun.” You murmur, rubbing your eyes. “Should do that more often.” 
“You’re always welcome to join us.” He says. “Get some rest. You’ve had a long week.” He leans forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Night, love.” 
He waits until your door is closed before heading back down the hallway towards the rec room, a small smile on his face. 
NEXT ->
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navybrat817 · 3 months ago
Text
Out of My Head
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Pairing: Chubby Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: Bucky feels a bit insecure during a romantic evening and you do your best to get him out of his head.
Word Count: Over 2.6k
Warnings: Unprotected v. sex, dirty talk, possessiveness, a/b/o dynamics, insecurities, self-doubt, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes and he's crazy about you (he's a warning, okay?).
A/N: More Beach Fun Nonsense! Hope you lovelies enjoy. @missvelvetsstuff, @honeyglee (chubby!Bucky), and @bucksbabee (rose petals) all requested for alpha!Bucky to Go for a Swim (smut) with prompt #27 and #32 in bold. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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Bucky wanted tonight to be romantic. Candles, rose petals, the works. Not for any sort of special occasion, but because his omega deserved only the best. Day in and day out. He hoped it was enough to make you feel loved and adored. It was a wonder that you were with an alpha like him.
If you looked inside his head, you’d tell him there was no reason for him to think he wasn't the perfect man for you. That he was a good partner and alpha. Had been from the start. That you loved him. And you did. You never once gave him a reason to doubt that.
If only he could push away the negative voice in his mind that seemed determined to bring him down tonight.
“Bucky?”
Tilting his head, everything around him became muted as he focused on you. Laying on your side with your naked body exposed to him, he watched the candlelight cast a glow upon your skin. Both of you lost your clothes earlier in the evening, content to lay beside each other for the time being. He wished some days that you didn't have to wear clothes at all. You and your body were made to be worshiped.
Unlike him.
Bucky almost covered himself up with the blanket. He couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment it happened, but he was soft in places where he was once firm. While he had been on the thicker side for years, he now had some pudge to go along with it. Handsome or not, he just wasn't in the same shape he used to be when he was younger. What if one day you didn’t like that? What if you wanted someone different? Stronger?
Better?
“You're thinking too hard again,” you said, picking up one of the rose petals to brush across his forehead. He smiled when he realized you traced a heart. “I can feel it.”
He inhaled your scent to ground himself. Orange, cinnamon, honey. The aroma of you made his mouth water. It comforted him, too. He hadn't associated any kind of smell with a sense of home until you.
“I’m thinking about you.”
“Oh, yeah?” You smiled, nuzzling into your pillow more as you gazed at him. “What about me?”
“Just how amazing you are,” he answered.
When he looked into your eyes the first time, he expected to see his imperfections staring back at him like they had with so many others. But the way you looked at him with kindness, acceptance, and want, everything fell into place. Pieces of himself he didn’t know were missing found their way back to him and made him while again. His heart didn't stand a chance.
It belonged to you.
Beautiful. Perfect. Mine.
How is that possible? How does a goddess want me? What the hell is wrong with me tonight?
“You know you look at me some days like I'm not even real?” You asked, reaching over to run your fingers through his hair. He moaned and turned his head to nose along your wrist. He craved your touch and scent like nothing else. “Like you're in some sort of a dream and you're afraid you're going to wake up if you look away.”
“Because you’re everything I could ever want. You occupy every single thought in my head, and every single dream,” he whispered. Even his dreams couldn't come up with someone as amazing as you. “And maybe I am afraid that this isn't real.”
Your brows pinched. “Why is that?”
He leaned over to kiss your forehead, wanting to ease the worry from your face. “I’m not sure. You just seem too good to be true and it feels like I might wake up to find you gone. Or that one day…” He rested back, swallowing hard. “You’ll decide you just don't want me anymore.”
You whined, a distraught sound that broke his heart. He wanted to take back those words, but he didn’t want to hide his feelings no matter how much it hurt to talk about them. “Bucky, I’m not going anywhere.” You shook your head vehemently as you sat up. “And I want you. I always do. Why would you ever think I wouldn't want you?”
“Because look at me.” He waved his hand over his torso, averting his gaze as if to hide his vulnerability. “How can someone like you want someone like me?”
He wanted to take the words back the moment they left his mouth when another wounded whine spilled from your lips. You placed your hands on his cheeks and brought his gaze back to you. There was mist over your eyes like you were going to cry and he wanted to chase that look away. “How can I want you? Do you have any idea how gorgeous you are? How wonderful you are?” You kept a hand on his face as the other slid down to his neck. “Bucky, look at me, please.”
His eyes slowly opened. He hadn't realized he shut them. “Doll, I’m sorry. I-”
“You're perfect. Inside and out. And don't say you aren't because you're perfect to me.” There was a hint of a growl on your tone as your hand moved lower. Well, as much of a growl as an omega could muster. You defended him so fiercely. “No one takes care of me the way you do. No one loves me the way you do. I’m the luckiest person in the world because I get to call you my mate.”
A strangle moan escaped when your hand brushed along his stomach. He never thought it would feel so sensitive, but no one else has really touched it since he got bigger. Except for you. “Omega.”
“You think you aren’t everything I want?” You tilted your head so he could see the mark he left. His chest swelled with pride. You never covered it up or put a collar over it, wanting everyone to see that you were claimed. He had a mark, too.
He was yours just as much as you were his.
“I know in my heart that you want me, I know that. I can feel that. But my head keeps reminding me tonight that I’m just bigger than I used to be and I have no idea why,” he said, shutting his eyes again. “It’s stupid.”
Why was his body such an issue this evening? This was supposed to be romantic, not a time to pick at his inner wounds. Maybe there was a reason he wasn't aware of. Maybe he needed to cut the wounds open so the warmth of your bond could slowly heal them.
“It isn’t stupid. Your feelings are never stupid, do you hear me? And you being bigger? Isn't that just more of you that I get to love?” There was no disgust or judgment as you rubbed his stomach again. Your sincerity almost made him choke up when he opened his eyes to gaze at you. “Bucky, believe me when I say that this isn’t a dream. This is real. I'm real and I love you. I’ll love you no matter what. That is never going to change.”
His chest rumbled at your declaration and he couldn't help but reach for you, needing to feel your body close. “I love you, too.”
He closed his eyes again when you pressed your lips to his. The bond crackled with your affection and care before his tongue slipped past your lips. The crackling intensified, your desire and need flowing into him like molten lava. It was going to burn him alive. He’d gladly perish that way.
Thank you. I love you. I’m sorry.
“Feel this,” you urged when you broke the kiss, putting his hand over your heart.
“Is that for me?” He asked as it raced under his touch.
“It’s only for you, Bucky,” you promised, slowly guiding his hand down your body. “Now feel this.”
You didn't stop until his hand rested between your thighs. “And that’s for me?” He growled as he touched your pussy, your slick coating his fingers.
You gasped and he half expected you to agree that it was, but you pulled away. He tried not to let his insecurities bubble back up and hoped his scent didn't change to something unpleasant. You assured him that he was perfect in your eyes. That you wanted him. And loved him. But it didn't mean you had to-
“It’s for you. Only you,” you said, turning toward the front of the bed to press your chest against it. “See, alpha?”
Bucky sat up as you raised your hips higher and presented yourself to him. He growled softly as he licked away the wetness from his fingers and eyed your twitching, slick-drenched hole. The blood that roared in his ears quickly rushed south and the beast inside snarled at the insecure voice to not say another word. You wanted him. Would always want him. You assured him of that with both your words and your body.
“Take a good look. It’s such a pretty hole for you to ruin. You want to ruin it, don't you? Ruin me?” You asked sweetly, briefly lifting your head to look over your shoulder. The blue around Bucky’s pupils shrank to a small ring, barely visible from how aroused he was at the sight of you. “Please, wreck me. Make me say your name.”
He had a hand wrapped around his cock, the alpha within him clawing to break through the surface. Biology would've screamed at any alpha to take you. Knot you. Breed you. But you didn’t want just any alpha. Wouldn't beg for just any alpha.
He was the alpha you chose.
“And you know that isn’t my instinct talking since I’m not in heat. This is me wanting you, Bucky Barnes,” you said as if you read his mind, snaking a hand between your legs. He almost wished you were on your back so he could play with your beautiful breasts, but he had all night to do so. “I’m so wet for you and so empty. I’m aching. You don’t even have to prep me. Just get in me. Take me.”
You gasped when he was suddenly behind you, his large body draped over yours. “That’s my pussy you're touching, omega,” he growled, pinning you down by the neck. “And I’m the only one getting you off tonight.”
“Yes, alpha,” you purred.
His belly rubbed against you as he raised your hips an inch higher and he tensed up only for a moment before he realized you pushed back against him, trying to take him in. He growled as he sat back and looked down at you, your body quivering from the low and feral sound. Deeply inhaling, he could taste your lust and love on his tongue from how strong it was. As much as he wanted to dive down and devour you, he needed to fill you up and leave his mark inside you once again.
“Not just gonna ruin you with my cock,” he said, brushing the thick head of his cock between your folds. “Gonna ruin you with my mouth after. Make your flood it with that sweet slick and drink it down ‘til you scream how much you love me.”
“Yes. Please, alpha. I want your cock. Your mouth. Anything,” you begged, keeping your head down when he folded over you again. You didn’t fear his size or weight crushing you. It excited you. He could smell it.
“You need me?” His lips brushed the shell of your ear. “Say my name.”
You whimpered when he pressed himself against your entrance. He tried to go slow since he hadn’t prepped you, but you could take him. “I need you. Only you, Bucky,” you sighed, trembling as he pushed in an inch more.
He gasped out your name, powerless to resist the pull as he sank as deep inside you as he could. His eyes fluttered when you clenched around him. Nothing felt as good as your slick cunt. Tight, but opened up for him so beautifully. And nothing else mattered or existed outside of you.
“Move, please. Don’t hold back,” you moaned.
Overwhelming pleasure flowed through him as his body blanketed yours. You embraced every part of him and he wanted to smother you with his scent. “Remember, omega, you begged for this.”
Whatever sense of control he had disappeared as he thrust, the slapping sound of skin on skin and his grunts a stark contrast to the romantic setting of the room. You couldn't push your hips back, but your pussy welcomed each movement as you cried out. Even with his vicious thrusts, it was somehow sensual when he nuzzled your neck.
Mine. Mine. Mine.
“Yours,” you moaned.
He hadn't known he said the words aloud, too lost in his primal haze. By the sounds of your moans and feel of your clenching walls, you were close already. It pleased him knowing how much he pleased you. He wanted to draw it out, make it last. He also wanted to bring you over the edge again and again.
“Does that feel good? You love getting fucked by your big, strong mate?” He grunted, heat pulsing through his veins.
“Yes. So strong,” you whimpered, reaching back to grip his hair. “So big.”
He groaned, raw pleasure bubbling through every part of his body. “Yeah, I'm big and you love it. And you love my cock ruining your pretty hole?”
“Yes, Bucky. I, hmm, love your cock.” You mewled when his teeth scraped along your skin. “Love you.”
He nosed along your neck again, slipping a hand beneath your body. “Then show my cock how much you love me,” he ordered, teasing your swollen clit. “Come all over it.”
You screamed his name as promised, slick gushing as you spasmed around him. He didn't stop, his hips snapping faster and harder as you shook through it. To feel you let go and hear those sounds of ecstasy as you rode out the waves was an honor. He needed to join you on the ride.
“Such a good omega. My omega. Gonna fill you up. So. Fucking. Good.” He growled the last word as he spilled inside you, panting with his release. The sensations blended with your earlier words, surrounding him in bliss. You were bliss.
Careful not to crush or jolt you, he rolled to his side and took you with him as he stayed nestled inside you. He murmured praise against your skin as you snuggled back against him. He didn't want to leave your body just yet. Not when you felt so good. Not when the terrible voice remained quiet.
About time you shut the fuck up and let me enjoy the evening with my mate.
“Better?” You breathed, looking over your shoulder with hopeful eyes.
Both of your hearts racing still, your purr mixed with his rumble, he wondered why he was so bothered before since his insecurities weren't a constant thing. Everyone had their off days though, including you. Sometimes for no concrete reason at all. That was life, but he couldn't ask for a better partner and mate to help him through the ups and downs, big or small.
“Much better. Thank you,” he whispered, brushing his lips against yours. “But one more thing.”
“Yeah?”
He wrapped his arm tighter around you and didn't flinch as his stomach pressed more against your back. “I love you, too.”
Always, my sweet omega.
And should you ever doubt his want or love for you, he’d be sure to assure you the way you did for him.
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Lovelies, I was TERRIFIED to post this, but I'm in love with them. Maybe we'll see them again? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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bunnys-kisses · 2 months ago
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hi! i was wondering if i could order pull-apart bread, sweet pastry and hot cross buns, with a side of cider and chocolate milk, for sub!max verstappen? nobody really writes anything about the reader body worshiping him and his softer body, which would be nice to reassure him about. id love to hold his love handles 🥹
thank you so much in advance if you’re up for doing this! 💙
bakery menu
submissions to the bakery are open! i'm accepting them all the time, even if they take a little while to get uploaded, i am constantly working on 'em! so thank you! and for this anon! hello!!! this is amazing, what the hell! i feel the same way, folks don't really write about it in fan fics (i've seen posts wax poetically about it though). so yes, this was awesome to write! thank you <333
pull-apart bread ("i love you") + sweet pastry ("i'll make it all better.") + hot cross buns ("don't hide your face from me. i'd hate to have to tie you up.") + cider (body worship) + chocolate milk (tenderness) served by max verstappen (formula one)!!
cw: smut/pwp, sub!max, body worship, tender sex, cowgirl position, bondage, praise kink, dom!reader, insecurities, love & intimacy
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it wasn't that you were going to fight people online over your boyfriend. it was a pointless endeavor to snap back at someone on twitter of all places! especially someone with a lando norris icon. but if you saw one more comment about your boyfriend's body online, you're going to kick something.
you loved max, that was why you were with him. but, you worried about him. underneath everything, there was soft center to him. and sometimes the wrong comment got through all the layers and right to the middle.
it just so happened the comments you hated the most were the ones about his body.
it was near the end of the off-season, you two had come back from a sunny trip to celebrate the time together. it left your poor boyfriend a little more pink than usual. especially around the shoulders, where he was shirtless most of the time.
you loved how he looked regardless. he was immensely strong in ways you couldn't fully grasp. you were always impressed by his ability to pick you up and kiss you. you believed that people had a skewed notion of what "hot" men should be built like. and you blamed it marvel movies and alpha male podcasts. max was not a dehydrated body builder. layered on top of the strength was a certain softness and made at the very least you drool at the sight of.
he was strong, but enjoyed food. he liked his sweets on weekends and a little extra at dinner. it didn't help with the constant weigh-ins and other measurements for formula one. so when you noticed his eyes on another cruel post online in response to a photo of him shirtless. you wanted to take that phone and toss it out the window.
you watched him turn off the screen and put the phone down on his chest. the room felt tense and your fingers went into his short hair. he tried to pull away, but with a tiny bit of force kept him close. you knew what he was thinking. just like everything else, max verstappen had crippling self-doubt.
"max. my love."
"yeah.." he said softly. the self-doubt that followed him like a shadow seemed to encrouch in his mind. you could tell even if you couldn't see his full expression.
you took the phone and placed it on the coffee table. you ran your fingers through his hair and looked down at him. fingers trailed down his jaw. "why don't we forget about that and go to the bedroom. "i'll make it all better."
you were in bed with him soon enough. he left his t-shirt and loose shorts on as your hands roamed his body. your lips on his neck, jaw and face. little unsaid promises of how handsome he was. "don't listen to them."
"what if they're right."
"when has a formula one fan ever been right about anything? you know some people online make ragebait. they're trying to get a rise out of other fans and cause in fighting."
"if i tried a little harder... i could look more like the others."
you made him look at you. his blue eyes seemed sad, like cloudy skies over a rocky shoreline. he couldn't meet your gaze, he was almost embarrassed. "max, look at me."
he made eye contact with you, "i could... if i tried."
you held his face a little tighter as he looked away. you said to him, "max, you are training all the time. you push yourself to limits that could kill many others. you work harder than a work horse with half the pay sometimes." you kissed the bridge of his nose, "i don't know who planted these ideas into your head." you had an idea, two names came to mind that made you frown. that was neither here nor there, "but, i love how you look."
his eyes shifted away from you. embarrassed. this entire thing felt embarrassing. he was insecure like a teenage girl at the moment because some random person online called him a stupid name.
"max. don't hide your face from me. i'd hate to have to tie you up." you said, trying to insert a joke to lighten the mood. you watched his demeanor shift and his eyes meet yours.
"would you.. tie me up? make me forget everything for a little bit?" he asked softly, his words almost tripped over one another. while most would've sought heavy therapy and an early retirement for their issues. max tried to cover them up, and sometimes that meant being your good boy.
"then tell me one thing, max."
"anything." he replied.
"say one nice thing about your appearance. anything. just one thing. and then i'll get what we need.' you promised, sealing it with a kiss on the cheek.
he swallowed, not knowing what to say. he shifted a little in his spot on the bed before he sighed. eventually he responded with, "my nose." he said, eyes on yours, "i like my nose. makes me stand out a little more."
you smiled a little bit and kissed him on the cheek, a gestured he melted into you. you replied, "and i love your nose too. i'm proud of you, max. good boy."
he said, "i love you."
and before you pulled away to get the roped needed for tonight, you said to him, "i love you too." then quickly ran your finger down his nose, "i love you, your nose, those eyes. every last inch of skin. your strength and your softness. it makes you perfect to me and those jealous bitches on twitter can't say anything about it." you broke into a further smile.
max chuckled slightly, he found you language amusing. the internet was troll heaven, but sometimes he needed his guiding light to not get himself sucked into the chaos of his doubts. he watched you pull away from him and get off the bed. he took off his shirt and shorts, he tried not too think too hard, but rather keep his eyes on you.
when you went to the dresser to find what you needed, he propped himself against the rod-iron headboard. usually he didn't like them, but when he discovered his affection for bondage early into your relationship, the headboard was perfect to keep him bound.
you returned to the bed, placing the two pieces of rope down onto the bed before you started to strip out of your clothes. once naked you got into bed with him. your hands roamed his chest and straddled his waist.
"you're so handsome, max. jesus christ. look at you." you smiled down at him. skin so soft, he was just perfect and you couldn't believe it. you rubbed up against him a little more and explored his torso with your hands, you watched him squirm a little under your touch. he shuddered a little. 
  “i'm not that-"
  “max verstappen. shush. i don't want to hear it.” you rubbed up against the bulge in his briefs. you held onto his shoulders a little as you moved. the dry humping felt good and left excitement racing through your lover, “that's it. that's my good boy.” 
he groaned a little, which only go louder when you stopped your movements to grab the ropes. he dropped his wrists to the bed and let you tie them to the bars of the headboard by the mattress. he melted a little against it while you took his cock out of his briefs.  the underwear was off him in no time and you got straddled on his waist with your hands on his shoulders once more.
you eyed him with heavy lust, “i know those idiots say that you're too fat or soft. well, i think they're blind. i think they're a whole bunch of idiots. you are perfect, turn me on every chance you get.” you took his face in your hands and kissed him as you continued to rub up against him. he panted against you when you broke the kiss soon after. 
  words of protest hung on max's tongue, but he never said anything further. this wasn't going to be a thing he could win. no matter what he said, you have a rebuttal. it was a losing battle, so he'd simply have to put his trust into you. if you found him hot beyond words, then you'd have to listen. but the fight was fully gone when you seated yourself onto his cock, then sank down on it to the base. he yanked against the ropes a little bit and found euphoria in the knowledge that you tied the ropes just as he liked them. tightly.
  “planning to fight against them, max?" you asked as you raked your fingers down his pale chest, "you wouldn't do that, would you? because you're my good boy! my handsome good boy. with those dazzling eyes and stunning laugh. when you smile i'm in heaven. especially when yo let me make both of us feel good. 
he shook his head, his cheeks grew hot from your gaze on him. if he was hot, then you were gorgeous. you were an inferno made human. the most beautiful woman he had ever laid his eyes on. the kind of beauty that brought him to his knees. he breathed heavily as the pleasure started to build in the bottom of his gut. his cock twitched a little bit the more you rode him. 
he loved being at your mercy, under your thumb in a sexual manner. he bad so many choices all day, sometimes with only seconds to make them. so it was nice. to be in the comfort of your shared bed and letting you take what you needed from him. to give you total control. to love him, shower him in the praise he desired.  
  “i love you.” you said,
  “i love you too.” 
you started to move faster, really working your hips, making sure you could do as much as you could. you moaned a little bit and felt the stutter in your heart from the heat of everything. you pushed hair out of your face as you continued to ride him. the feeling between you two was electric. you said to him, “you're so handsome. fuck, you're perfect.” you started to move faster.
max bit back a moan but it spilled out when you crashed your lips against him. he almost whimpered from the fast speed. how good you took him. it made him clench his fists to try to compose himself. his chest rose and fell heavily he tensed up a little bit at the throb of lust in his body. you kissed him once more as you went as fast as you could go. you bounced on his cock and your nails dug into his jaw and shoulders. 
the noises between you two were erotic. it was desperate on max's end. he wanted to make you feel good while also chasing his own pleasure. he fought a little bit against constraints. he was a little jerky as he tensed up. he could feel it all crashing down on him. no longer the lingering feeling of self-doubt but rather he heat of pleasure. the need to climax. to get out of his own head with the erotic bliss. 
   “please, my love. please.” he swallowed as his back arched a little. he leaned up to give you more kisses and watched you melt against him while your hips still moved. you held his face with both hands and clenched your thighs. he made a sweet, high pitched, almost whine like noise when you pulled away.
you carded your fingers through his hair and admired those blue eyes clouded in lust. “you're perfect, max. every inch of you. every spot you hate, i love more. damn those fuckers on twitter, they don't get to see what i see. everything.” you went in for another kiss and clutched onto his shoulders tightly as you came around his cock. your back arched and max went in to kiss your collarbones with such tenderness. 
  “my good boy.” you said out of breath as you continued to move against him. your cunt clutched around him as you kept your pace steady despite the tremor in your thighs. you knew max wanted to hold onto you and work your hips up and down his cock. but, you were in control. so you examined his expressions as you continued to move. 
the kisses became sloppy once more as you brought max to his own climax. as he tensed up, he really yanked at the ropes for a good few moments before he felt all the fight leave his body. his eyes almost rolled back into his head from the head rush. he relaxed against the headboard and panted heavily. 
he looked erotic, but totally blissed out. so when you stopped your motions. you kissed him gently on the lips before you got off his cock and felt his cum run down your leg as you tried to find your panties. once they were on, you smothered him in kisses and praise as you got the ropes off of him.  you kissed his wrists and he slipped down onto the bed. the mattress felt nice against his body. he felt on cloud nine.
you rubbed his cheek for a moment with your thumb as you said, “i'm going to go get you some water. you just stay here, i'll be right back. now before i go i have to ask one thing. say one thing you like about yourself?"
he shakily exhaled while he leaned into your touch. his eyes were somewhat closed when he answered, sounding far away, “my eyes. they intimidate people. but not you. you love them.” then leaned further. 
you smiled and kissed the top of his head, “that's what i like to hear. next time i want two things before and after we have sex. got it? i'm going to make you love yourself.”
he chuckled softly, cheeks pink, “easier said than done.”
you tapped his cheek before you moved away to go get him some water. you said to him while you approached the bedroom door, “max verstappen, you know i'm as stubborn as you are. ” then left to go get him some water. you could only hope you could make a dent in healing some of his doubt issues. and while you couldn't fight people on twitter, you could kiss and love the man you called your boyfriend. <3
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shmalk · 8 months ago
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141 is filled with alphas, not a single omega in sight. there are a few betas, but they're either low-ranking or transfers that were never going to last.
like you! (beta!reader) who works at reception and takes calls, scans badges and is the first point of contact for the task force.
none of them know your name, none of them even speak to you - maybe price, when you transfer a call to him, he'll mumble a thank you. or even laswell, when you bring her a coffee.
it's nothing, really, you don't mind.
only, one day, a totally normal friday, you've done the exact same style in your hair you always have, and you're wearing more clothes than you were yesterday.
price wants a coffee, sure- you make it, just the way he likes, and head towards his office. you knock, and wait a few seconds until you hear 'come in.'
the office is silent, it usually is - but this time there's more than just price inside.
they're finishing up just as you enter, soap and gaz sitting in front of the desk whilst ghost leant against the back wall.
"my apologies, captain." your voice isn't exactly quiet - why should it be, you've done nothing wrong, but its still respectful. price just nods as you place the cup down on his desk.
"thanks, that's all." he dismisses everyone in the room, and you wait for the boys to file out before you do, soap and gaz both giving you a cheeky smile.
ghost is the one to hold open the door, standing just adjacent to the doorway with his arm sprawled against it. its a heavy door, and you swallow as you pass him.
"thank you," you all but mumble out as you rush past him - straight into the break room.
you can't help but rant about the situation to your roommate whilst you're packing up your things, your phone tucked between your jaw and shoulder.
"i mean- he held the door open for me and i couldn't even look him in the eye to say thank you!" you stress, throwing your bag into your passenger seat before leaning back against your car. "god, all i wan't right now is a plate of sushi and some boba."
"too bad its pizza night, dweeb."
"thats not fair! i could loose my job, i should be allowed to eat my comfort food when im stressed out."
you stress about it over the whole weekend, and when you return back to work on monday you try to act as casual as possible. of course, you don't see ghost - price doesn't order a coffee, and youre break time comes around quicker than you expected.
you had brought- oh, theres- your favourite sushi, and a boba drink sitting where your food was supposed to be. in somewhat messy hand writing, on a small piece of paper, theres your name.
signed ' s. riley. '
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i am a sucker for sweet lil moments like this !!
in my head i think that simon would like a beta, or an alpha, but in this lil snippet (which is CERTAINLY getting turned into a fic) he's big and broad and gets worried when he's with alphas because they can't think straight, he tells them what to do and he does it.
but you? you dont react to his scent or chase him down to get him to court you - so, of fource, he courts you. <3
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titania-sleeps · 1 month ago
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Woman nutting in man is the only way. We should be like the seahorses. Only then will we reach nirvana
First Rut (Sub!Omega!Yandere x Alpha!Reader)
truly wise words, anon. i would have to heavily agree with you and thus,,, presenting,,, your first rut w adonis where you fuck him crazy and he enjoys it
one Adonis fic down, one more to go!
more works featuring Adonis: Adonis Introduction, Adonis Rides You, Adonis First Heat
warning: nsfw, dom reader, omegaverse, horny af manwhore omega, blowjob, kinda public sex, reader has dick (GN), minors DNI pls
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Fuck. The time has come, hasn't it.
You close your eyes and lean against the hallway as the bustling crowd of students passes you. Dragging yourself by the feet, you trudge your way to hide under the staircase. The dingy area is just enough to curb the strongest of your desires, but there is still a gnawing feeling in you that needs to bite, tear, and consume.
It's only two in the afternoon, but you fetch your phone and send a quick text. Turning your phone off, you slide down the wall, not caring as the rugged edges of the wall snag against your neat uniform.
No more than five minutes pass when you hear quickening steps come your way. A sharp turn around the corner and a form that you're very familiar with emerges from the shadows. With a pretty blush on his face and his eyes wide like a doe, Adonis stands there nervously.
"You, uh, called for me," he breathes, his hands clutching the fraying edges of his sweater.
The sweet scent of roses and lemons attacks your senses, and your nails dig into your palm until it's bleeding. Why did you call him over again?
He seems to notice your state of struggle, so he runs to you, his hand on your shoulder as he brings his forehead to touch yours. It's your responsibility to contain yourself, but it's his mistake to get so close to you. Your hand sneaks around and wraps itself around the nape of his neck, bringing him closer.
"I'm burning," you whisper into his pink-tipped ears. His face erupts into a bright red and he stammers that he'll help you, that you can use him to calm down.
You push him away roughly, locking your arms to your side. You're breathing heavily, your vision growing hazy. You look up and he looks hurt, a worried frown on his usually bright countenance.
"Sorry... I"—God, he looks so cute—"didn't mean to...." Your weak apology brings out an immediate sigh of relief from Adonis. He kneels next to you, his hand placed over yours.
You groan, sending him a particularly piercing gaze. Your gaze burns into him, and you're holding yourself back with everything that you have. He stiffens in response, but his hand remains on yours.
"Class ends in an hour," he begins, his eyes flitting about anxiously, "so if you, um, need help..."
His offer hangs in the air, his clammy hand still laying gently over your own.
You don't need to think. You don't hesitate, because if you do, you might end up regretting what you're about to do. Instead, you submit to your instincts and you drag him down with you, your partner in crime.
Your mouth is on his in an instant, your teeth biting into his bottom lip. His lips part from his gasp, and you slip your tongue in, your free hand trailing under his shirt. Your nail scratches his toned stomach, and he moans into your kiss. You drag your nail down at a lazy pace, and your hand meets the tip of his bulge, straining against his pants.
He detaches from you, panic floating in his eyes. "W-wait, we're still at school—" You grab him by the tie, shutting him up with another messy kiss. He's protesting but you flip him so that he's the one against the wall, your hand placed next to his head on the wall.
"Be a good boy," you mumble in between kisses to his jaw and neck. His protests sputter out, replaced by quiet moans and tiny gasps. He's clutching the collar of your shirt tightly, but he doesn't push you away.
You lick the side of his neck, pressing a kiss onto it. "Very good," you praise. You hear him whisper a shy thank you, and you reward him with a kiss to his collarbone.
Your continued kisses have him gasping for more, but you stop abruptly. He whines, begging for you to keep going, but you have a better idea.
Only a second passes when his face is suddenly met with your cock, hard and red. You grin as his eyes widen like saucers, the blatant lust blossoming on his countenance. He's immediately subdued by the scent of it, his mouth opening subconsciously.
"Suck."
A single word is all he needs.
Adonis starts at your tip, lips brushing gently against you. Inspired by you, perhaps, he stamps small kisses down your entire length. Then he drags his tongue from your base, trailing along the underside of your cock, stopping only when he reaches the tip again. Opening his mouth, he takes you in.
You're melting into the warmth of his mouth, his tongue swirling around your sensitive spots, in a manner that is so intimately familiar with you. His dick is still bulging in his pants, begging to be released.
When he opens his eyes to gaze upon your form, his glance is hazy. He pushes his head down your length, your cock hitting the back of his throat. Adonis grimaces and he flinches, but he remains there, letting his throat do the work. He's gagging on you, and you're so close, but you grab him by his hair and pull your dick out.
"Why?" he whines, mouth opening instinctively, ready to take you in again.
You don't respond, and instead, you lift him up. Surprised, he wraps his arms around you.
"What are you doing—" His lips are met with yours again, and you slip his pants off with a quick flick of your fingers. He gasps into your kiss, but his arms around your neck tighten as he brings you even closer to him.
Adonis's cock leaks precum, dripping onto your shirt. Ignoring it, you push him against the wall, holding him up with one arm and using the other to align your cock to his hole. He moans softly, your tip grazing against his opening. Without warning, you slip your whole length in. It goes in without much resistance, and he's grabbing onto you desperately, face buried in the crevice of your neck.
You thrust up into him roughly, both your arms bracing him against the wall. His legs and arms wrap around your torso tightly as he moans into your neck.
"Fuck, you're so tight around me," you mutter. You shove as much of your cock into him as you can, angling it so it hits his prostate. His insides tighten, embracing your length in waves of convulsions.
"Ah ♡... [Y/N] ♡...!" He calls out your name, body quivering as you fuck up into him with reckless abandon. Every thrust is met with a wet moan and a little bit more of his precum trickling out. He's clinging onto you for dear life, a shaky grin dancing on his lips as his tongue hangs loosely.
You breathe into his neck, dragging your tongue along his neck. Your teeth graze his skin, leaving a burning trail of need on its way. He shudders, choked moans escaping from his throat as his eyes roll up in pleasure. You groan, feeling him spasm around your dick as both you and Adonis approach your limits.
"Bite me ♡," he whimpers into your ear, his breath hot. Your hips stutter, thrown off-guard by his plea; a flame unquelled in you roaring into its full life as your guarded desire is aided by the gas he spills.
But you reel yourself back, deciding to fuck him to oblivion so that he forgets. You can't bite him now; he'll be chained to you forever. And more importantly, you can't imagine doing that to the one person who seems to trust you above all else.
So instead, you lick his neck and give to him small, reassuring kisses. If he wishes for you to bite him in the future, you don't think you'll be able to hold yourself back. For the time being, though, you calm the knot that is forming at the base of your cock and thrust wildly into Adonis. Tears stream down his face as he moans your name over and over again; he speaks only your name and you are all that he sees.
"Please," he begs, pressing sloppy kisses to your neck, "please, please, b-bite me, I can't handle it anymore! ♡"
You bite your tongue, stopping yourself. "Be quiet," you whisper to him, increasing the pace. He obeys surprisingly well, swallowing and muffling his noises.
However, he isn't able to hold it in for long.
"I-I'm close, I wanna cum with you, I want you to mark me! ♡" he exclaims, kissing the corner of your lips. His hands scratch against your back, leaving marks to remind you of this day. Adonis's insides clench, and you shove it deep inside of him, head spinning as you release your thick seed into him.
"Bite me now, please, bite me right now!" he cries, face bright red and dick equally as red.
You don't listen to him and he has no choice but to cum at that very moment, overwhelmed by the intense pleasure of being filled. He wiggles in your grasp, nails digging into your back as his dick shoots out white ropes of cum.
His breathing comes out in quivering gasps, but he finds the strength to send you a reassuring smile anyway. He clings onto you, allowing you to lower him onto his feet slowly. Very kind of him, indeed, yet you're still aching for a bit more.
"Uh, do you want to... come over tonight?" Adonis asks, a pretty flush on his face. "Of course, if you don't want to, that's okay too, I know you're busy and—"
You lean in, caging him with one arm. He blushes, closing his eyes. Chuckling, you give him a flick to his forehead.
"Yeah, I'll be there tonight."
He opens his eyes, palm on his forehead, his pants still on the floor. A lovestruck grin is plastered ever-so lovingly on his lips.
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not my best work. it only goes up from here?
-> masterlist
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winterarmyy · 1 year ago
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And You're Mine
How grumpy chubby alpha!bucky finally found his omega
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Summary: In which Bucky, the big, scary, 'undesired alpha' was tricked into a blind date where he met his precious little omega.
Navigation: Prequel || Main Story I || Main Story II || Main Story III
Words: 4.7k++
Pairing: chubby alpha!bucky x omega!female!reader
Warnings: implied 18+ content, implied smut, a/b/o dynamics, self-deprication, body shaming, tiny bit of angst, fluffiness, bucky has a size kink (if you squint), horny-ass bucky has lots of dirty thoughts, vivian being a digusting bitch, protective y/n, even more protective bucky and overall wholesome.
P/S: Ahhhhhhhhh!!! My first omega-verse fic; i have no clue what I'm doing. This is mostly self-indulgent but if you come across this and somehow interested to read it then I hope you enjoy!
Read my other works here: Masterlist
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"Are you fucking with me right now?" Bucky momentarily shuts his eyes, slightly titled his chin upwards, as if that'll help the boiling blood within his nerves to cool down.
Steve had expected that his best friend would be a little bit annoyed with his decision to trick him into agreeing to this suprise date but he didn't expect him to get this pissed, "Come on now, Buck. I promise you're gonna love this one."
"You said the same shit everytime!" Bucky almost roared in the middle of the crowded carnival, but he held back with a muted growl.
Ever since he lost his left arm on a rescue mission during his time in the Special Forces Unit, the society had deemed him to be "lesser than" despite the alpha title he was born into.
You would've thought that serving your country for about 6 years of your early 20's would be enough of a reason to make up for the so called "lacking", but no.
Apparently, his heroic contributions, his Sargent rank, and his literal blood, sweat and tears meant nothing when he returned home as an amputee.
Even if he came back with the medal of honor, pinned on the fabric of his uniform, right on his prideful chest; they didn't care. A defected alpha is as good as dead, especially in this modern, competitive society where its a lot more difficult to find a mate.
At first Bucky was optimistic, he didn't let them get to him.
He believed that his mate is out there somewhere, waiting for him, as he is for her.
After Stark Technologies offered him to join their research for under the Prosthetics and Orthotics Division, Bucky was lucky to fully revived his left arm in a form a vibranium prosthetic.
Even then, as time passed, the venomous whispers eventually managed to seep through; like any other poison, it is lethal to his mind.
And Bucky stopped trying to be an alpha. His pride was maimed and he let himself wallow in self hatred; letting his insecurity consume him. Eventually quite literally ate his pain away.
They said that he was rubbing salt to his own wound as now he was not just an amputated alpha, he is also a fat one at that.
With his alpha reputation being at its worst, his chances of finding a mate also went down hill.
"This one's gonna be different. Trust me." Steve claimed.
Bucky doesn't know why Steve seemed really convinced. But he wasn't having any of that, he rolled his eyes into a glare, "And how's that?"
Steve's blue eyes sparked as optimism lit on his face, "Well, first of all, she's one of Peggy's closest friends and.."
"Oh great, now you involve your omega into this." Bucky let out an unfiltered scoff before sarcastically exclaimed, "Just fantastic."
Steve growled at the mention of his mate, "Watch it, Bucky." He warned.
Bucky's drilling glare remained the same as Steve's alpha challenged his.
It's not that Bucky is against the idea of Peggy or any other omega helping him in any way. But, Steve had been annoyingly persistent with these set ups and he was sick of it. Perhaps he was a bit petty bringing Peggy into the conversation but he really was just tired of this.
Steve's scowl gradually soften before he continued his reasons, "...And, your date is actually the one requesting for a set up with you."
And that definitely caught Bucky's attention. Steve could see it, especially when Bucky's ears perked up a little and his ever-lasting frown loosen at the tiniest amount.
Steve smirked triumphantly, "Specifically you."
For moment, there was a hesitation on Bucky's side; and there were only the chaotic atmosphere around them. From the screaming of the riders on the roller coater to the giggles of children at the nearby courasell.
Steve really thought he managed to lure Bucky but he was caught by surprise when Bucky replied, "You'd think I'd fall for that crappy excuse of a lie? No. I'm leaving." Bucky turned on his heels.
"I'm not lying." Steve stopped him as he held on his arm, "Hey, you're gonna break her heart."
"Break her heart? How about mine? Just how many more heart breaks do I have to endure? How much more disappointment do I have to go through?"
Bucky gathered his palms into fists as he recalled all the mean, insulting words his past lovers had thrown at him and all those time he wasted on waiting for his dates to show up.
Just before Bucky planning to lash out, a voice interupted his thoughts "Hey, sorry for being late." Peggy came just in time.
Though it was just her; no sign of his so called date around.
An unexpected sting spreads within Bucky's chest. Of course she would stood him up too. Why was he surprised?
Steve pulled his omega into a tight hug, "Hey, baby. Where's y/n?" He asked.
"She's went to the bathroom." Peggy replied before taking a peep towards Bucky, "She got really nervous when she saw you. She might take some time to calm down. She thought its better if you know." Peggy explained.
On one side, Bucky can feel that sliver of hope creeping in. He look down to where he was supposed to see his feet, but unable to see them as now they're blocked by the round of his soft tummy. That's when the dark thoughts clouded his mind.
Was she just feeling nervous or was she regretting her decision?
After a short back and forth explanation, Peggy swept Steve away and had left Bucky on his own. She claimed that the line to the haunted house will double if they wait any longer. But, Bucky knew that they just wanted to leave him and his date alone.
Like every other date before, Bucky was emotions was all over the place; nervous, scared, intrigued, excited but what's different tonight was he also felt angry and annoyed. Which was not a good thing to feel on a date.
So he went to a Whac-A-Mole machine near the spot where he was supposed to wait for his date. He had to hit something. He just had to. He need to let his anger out one way or another.
His gloved hand gripped tightly on the wooden handle as he waited for the next round. Smack after smack, next was harsher than before, he did felt better. But even if the fire was out, the ashes were still burning.
As he was fixated on whacking the shit out of the moles, a particular scent invaded his nostrils. A sweet-smelling scent; something between a mix of cotton candy and butterscotch-caramel nuances.
It should be normal to smell this at a place such as a carnival; but the food stalls were all the way on the other end of the venue and this scent was too strong, too potent, to be that far away from him.
Bucky just had to stop as he relished the pleasant smell; it was truly a sweet and warm gourmand scent that ushered him in and out between nostalgic memories and pure raging lust.
That was when he heard a voice coming from his back, "You must've been really bored waiting that you started without me." She sounded amused when she let out a quiet laugh.
Even before Bucky had the chance to turn around he knew he was fucked; she just had to have the most captivating scent he had ever smell, and the most beautiful-sounded laughter he had ever heard.
What a foul torment to do to an alpha.
When Bucky turned around, he would've missed her if he wasn't paying enough attention on the lower area of his view.
And there she stood, in all her glory of ethereal beauty; small and sweet-looking in an off-shoulder sundress that does nothing but tempt Bucky to leave his mark all over her exposed skin. A simple necklace adorned with a gleaming stone that shines much like her eyes. A shy smile that may have just triggered some dark thoughts in Bucky's mind on corrupting the poor little thing.
"James, right? I'm y/n." she introduced herself but when Bucky's gaze fell on her rosy lips, all he could think was how bad he wanted to bite and suck on them just see if it'll get redder than they already were.
He was too focused entertaining on his inner beast's thoughts that he just stood there in silence, frowning intensely at the sweet little omega in front of him.
Y/N took his unresponsiveness as a sign of anger, so quickly apologised for her tardiness, "Sorry for making you wait so long. When we..i mean I. When I saw you, the nerves started kicking in." At least she tried to, despite stuttering in the between her words.
Fuck, she's such a pretty doll but above all, Bucky just wanted to protect her from the world, provide for her with anything she deserves, treat her like an absolute queen, worship every inch of her being like his own personal goddess and jesus fuck these urges came in stronger than he ever experienced.
With the lights coming from behind, Bucky's face was in the shadows and Y/N misterinterpret his spell-bound, diluted eyes to something else.
Y/N's brows creased in hesitation as she wonders if Bucky was still mad, "Uhh... oh shit" then her eyes widen in a false realization, "Is the something on my face?" She frantically searched for her phone in her bag.
And fuck does that big doe eyes of hers just casually seduce Bucky to think of how she would look when she's taking his cock in her mouth. She'd be so fucking pretty.
She knew she should've used her phone's camera to re-apply her lipstick instead of the cracked mirror at the carnival's bathroom, "The mirror here is f--"
Yes, Bucky would want to breed her so good that she would always be full with his pups.
She's undeniably... "Perfect." Bucky finally spoke after what seemingly feels like forever.
His voice was laced with a hint of territorial grunt that Y/N was not able to catch what he said, "Hmm?" She titled her head to the side, eyes pleading for him to repeat.
It took Bucky all of his mental strength to hold back his alpha urges when he repeats, "You're perfect, doll. Just absolutely perfect." A cheshire smile decorated his handsome face.
Did he meant to say she look perfect? Well, yes but no. He clearly meant she was perfect, her whole being. But Y/N took it as the prior, "Thank you." She smiled sweetly as her cheeks warmed.
Bucky definitely noticed the slight indent of her left dimple. And he wondered how would it felt against his fingers. "Adorable." He thought as his smile grew wider.
Y/N had been waiting for this moment, to finally had a chance to have this man even for a day, especially considering she had the biggest crush on this stranger that helped her a year ago.
One time she might just had met her potential mate was that one time she had to be dosed with shit tons of scent blockers. And that might just be reason why Bucky may not remember her but that's fine. She had one more chance with him tonight.
After that encounter, his scent, his voice, his presence lingered in her mind longer than she anticipated. At least until the moment Peggy showed a photo her alpha that had Bucky in it.
She grew hopeful and had been pestering her to set up somehow set up date with him.
When the time finally comes, she couldn't help but to fell into panic, "Did I introduce myself? I'm y/n" she completely forgot that she already did that.
Bucky let out the most adorable laugh before he reminded her, "You very well did, sugar." His hand move so naturally to tuck the strand of her hair behind her ear as she fell into utter embrassement.
"I'm Bucky." He finally introduced himself.
"Bucky?" Y/N outwardly questioned. She thought his name was James, as Peggy said it was.
He hummed softly as he nodded, "The name's James Bucky Barnes." He explained. "Just call me Bucky, yeah sugar?" He duck his head to peek on her redden face, "...cause I can't guarantee my behaviour around you if you keep calling me James." He quirked his eyebrow as his teasing grin spreads.
Oh, he was definitely and unashamedly insinuated something quite unholy there.
Bucky straighten on his back as he offered his arms, "Shall we, then? I would love to know more about you, sweet 'mega."
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No matter how infatuated Bucky was with this lovely little omega clinging to his arm; a part of him was also on a defensive mode.
His insecurities gets the best of him when he believe that all of this was just an act, a cruel prank that fate has set up for him or maybe he was just having a ridiculous dream, knowing how pitiful his reality was.
Despite his gentle smile and longing gaze that's lingering on Y/N who was having the best time of her life as her bright eyes sparked at the vibrant and colorful firework show, deep down, he couldn't help to think that sooner or later, all of this will end like it always does.
Another heart break he needed to endure.
But, she was truly an angel. She was everything he could ever hoped for, everything that he could ever long for.
He can't belive that she would spend even a second of her time with a defected, fat, angry looking alpha such as himself.
Maybe this won't be just another heart break.
Maybe this would be the cause for him to actually break beyond repairable.
And she would be the catalyst.
"Thank you for today, Bucky. I truly enjoy my time with you." She confessed with a sincere appreciation and admiration towards him. She shyly broke their eye contact as her finger fiddled with soft fur of the teddy bear that Bucky won for her.
It reminds her of him so much that she insisted that he need to win it for her.
So he did.
His alpha couldn't help to puff with pride. "Omega's happy because of us." But his lips remain shut with a loving smile curved on it.
The dimple on her cheek appeared again and this time he didn't stop his hand from reaching out. Though they were gloved, he still let himself feeling the pleasure of grazing his fingers along her cheek, through her dimple and stopped underneath her chin.
Bucky pulled her closer as he dipped down to her level. Warmth sparked in Y/N's chest, as if the fireworks show magically transferred within her instead, "Buck--"
"Bucky?" A women's voice interupted their moment. "Bucky is that you?" She called again and her familiarity had caught both Y/N and Bucky's attention.
"Oh my god! It is you!" her ecstatic tone might have fool Y/N for a second there.
Maybe she's a close friend of Bucky, but when she saw the colors from his face drained quite drastically, she might need to hold on to that thought.
"Vivian." Bucky's tone changed into something Y/N couldn't put her finger on. Sorrow? Anger? Regret? She wasn't sure but it was not a positive response.
The claimed omega sauntered closer and peered towards Y/N with a glint of judgment in her eyes, "And I see you managed to trick another one, huh?"
That triggered a scarring spot within Bucky.
He could still remember the way she accused him of luring and tricking omega to be with him. Apparently, she couldn't stand being him during intimate time especially during his ruts.
And one particular moment when his rut was at its peak and she couldn't stop herself to turn into an unforgiving monster.
"I can't believe I fell for your charms. Then now I need to deal with this." Vivian looked away, unable to look at her boyfriend, hot and bothered, bare and in pain.
Bucky pants and groan as Vivian continued to insult him from the corner of him room, "Look at you, Bucky! You look fucking pathetic!" She yelled as she angrily pointed her hands towards him.
He turn to his side facing her, and curled his body to manage the raging pain of wanting to stick his cock into something. Vivian was to busy ranting that she couldn't see the fire in Bucky's grilling frown.
"You can't expect me to touch you now especially with your big fucking belly spilling out like that. God, you're sweating like damn dog and you fucking reek!" Her eyes narrowed and her nose wrinkled in disgust before she continued, "And don't get me started with that wretched arm of yours."
That's it. Bucky was not having any of it anymore. He was seconds away from slamming Vivian's face to the wall as his primal alpha needs to aggress were also heighten in his rut.
"Then, get the fuck out of my house, you useless annoying bitch." Bucky growled through his pain.
Vivian was not able to catch a breath as her mouth hang open in shock. Bucky never been that harsh with her but honestly it was about time he did.
"Don't even think of coming back." He warned as she closed the doors behind her.
Unknowingly leaving Bucky's heart bruised and battered.
That was almost a year ago. Bucky gave her the benefit of a doubt as he thought maybe she would change once she find her the love life but apparently she is as vicious as ever.
The tall blonde continue to linger as she asked, "Did you know? About that arm of his?"
Y/N didn't know what she was talking about but she didn't want to entertain this woman, especially when Bucky was clearly uncomfortable with her presence.
Though her silence only lead Vivian to speculate, "Aww, you poor thing, you don't know, do you?" Her mockery was getting worst, "It's fake, honey. He lost his arm many years ago." She flicked Bucky's left arm with long bird-like nails; or claws, that seemed more accurate.
Bucky caught the way Y/N's eyes briefly glanced at his covered arms then his gloved hand. What was she thinking then? Does she think that he was defected? That he is a damaged goods?
He couldn't help to let his mind wonder to the worst case scenarios and to make the unpleasant situation even worse Vivian slightly tugged Bucky's jacket to the side.
Revealing his round and plushy belly, "And fuck did you get bigger?" She sneered as the ruthless insult continue to spill.
"Shut up." Y/N's broken silence caught them off guard.
Vivian scoffed, "What?"
Y/N piercing gaze landed on Vivian's hand still tugging Bucky's jacket. She harshly grabbed her on the wrist, didn't care whether if her nails would dug into the woman's skin.
"I said..." The air felt heavier, only for Y/N to shove more force to it when her voice dropped a few octaves down, "Shut the fuck up before I tear your throat apart."
How dare she insult her alpha, especially when Y/N was right there with him.
"Are sure you want to do that?" Vivian's alpha suddenly stepped in. Even though he clearly was not interested in the matter a few seconds ago.
Y/N took a step forward, "Try me." She dared him.
"I might as well fuck your balls up while I'm at that, huh? Maybe you'll learn a thing or two about subduing your insolent omega."
Oh, she meant what she said; its especially clear when the growling started to peak a presence through her voice.
The taller was bright red, with embrassment and anger, "You're talking to an alpha. Know your place 'mega!" He forced his alpha command on her.
She fought back as much as she could but of course she was forced to submit. When the alpha tried to reach for her, that's when Bucky blocked his way.
Bucky's demeanour completely changed into something different. His meek presence vanished and now turned into a pure and primal rage. Good thing was he contained it quite well so he won't cause a scene but his gaze degrades the one before him.
Though the alpha was slightly taller but Bucky was certainly bigger and being a veteran, of course he'd be stronger. One wrong move, he might get a chance to meet the grim reaper sooner than he'd expect.
It felt as if Bucky was towering over the alpha, as he challenged him to come a step further, "Touch her and you're dead." Bucky let out a deep, murderous growl as he threatened.
The alpha was about to protest but was forced into a frozen state as he look into Bucky's sapphire eyes; there was something ominous about it, something dark and dangerous.
Being overwhelmed by Bucky's strong scent of rage, Vivian quickly pulled her alpha away, "Let's just go... They're not worth it." She coaxed, and the alpha agreed.
Before they leave, she managed to slip a last comment, as she wishes luck to Bucky, "Goodluck keeping this one." She thought she was being sleek when she whispered so quietly but Y/N heard that just fine.
When Y/N snapped out of the alpha command, she grunted, "I'm gonna kill her." What a menancing look in those coffee-stained eyes of hers.
Bucky only softened to her threatening aggressions, "No, you're not " he rubbed his hand to the sides of her arms, trying to calm her down.
Which failed miserably when she replied, "Watch me." She spun around, eyes searching in the crowd, trying to spot a glimpse of the rude couple.
"Hey hey, omega." Bucky quickly catch her before she could walk further, pulling her back to his chest, both of his arms securing her waist, "Calm down. Shhh shhh." Bucky let out a calming rumble from within his chest, coaxing her softly,  "Killing is not necessary, sugar."
Despite her tensed body were starting to relax, her mind certainly wasn't, "And why the hell not?" Her small hands gripped onto the fabric of Bucky's jacket on his arms.
"No one deserved to be treated like that." She whispered softly as Bucky continued to kiss the top of her head, mumbling quiet 'I know, doll. I know' 
"You don't deserve to be treated like that, Bucky." Her voice shivered despite her efforts to conceal them.
Bucky loosen his grip and turned her to face him. His loving gaze took in every single one of Y/N's sweet features; from her teary eyes to her redden nose and pouty lips.
He wanted to kiss each of them, in hopes of making her feel better. But he doesn't want to take any chances as he had already made a bold move to hug her from behind and kiss her head prior.
Bucky looked down at his dark midnight glove, and Y/N took his lead. Before she could say anything, Bucky started pulling each one off. Revealing his calloused right hand and a shiny black and gold prosthetic on the other.
He can't see her reaction to his vibranium arm, but he imagined the worst. He took in a shaky breath before he spoke, "Alpha is supposed to be perfect. They supposed to be capable. So that they can provide and protect their omega."
He paused as Y/N wrapped took both of his hand in hers but then continued regardless, "And I am far from being perfect or ideal. I lost a limb and gained pounds in return. I can't hide that fact."
"But I swear to god y/n, I never intent on tricking you or using you, in any way." In the end, Vivian's gaslighting effect of Bucky was still stronger as ever.
Why couldn't he see that there was nothing less about him.
"It's pretty." Y/N titled his left hand back and forth, watching the glow on the gold lines reflect the lights of the carnival; each move create random sparkling dots on its smooth surface, it looks like stars.
Bucky didn't understand at first until she looked up at him, with eyes gleaming with mixture of intrigued and infatuation, "It's so pretty, and Bucky..." She reached her hand to his face, gently rubbing her thumb on his stubble jaw, "You're beautiful. All of you." She confessed.
She carefully pulled her hand away from his cheek, and grabbed his left hand with both of hers, allowing it draw near to her lips before she placed a loving kiss on it, "This arm," Then her hands caressed the softness of his tummy, "this body," before they stopped at his chest where his beating heart resides, "this heart. Every single part of you is beyond beauty itself."
Bucky frowned as he find it hard to believe and Y/N knew that, "I mean it, Bucky."
A short chuckle left her lips as a thought run through her mind, "God, you'd be running scared, if you know half of the things I would love to do to you."
Bucky bit back a smile as he let his teeth sink into his bottom lip.
Y/N continued as she held onto his hands, "But, above all Bucky, you are the sweetest man I've met." There was nothing more sincere than her words, "Yeah I know we just met and what not, but if I can see that just in one night, imagine if I get to know more of you tomorrow or the next day and next week?"
Her grip on him grew stronger as she reminded him, "Don't let an impudent omega or anyone even, convice you otherwise."
"Because Bucky, you are as lovable as a person can be." She placed his palm on either side of her cheeks, purring as the sensation on skin felt so right, "And I am absolutely honoured and proud to be standing here with an alpha like you." She smiled like she was the happiest omega on earth.
And Bucky could not control the overwhelming joy within his thundering chest as it bursts with endless fluttering butterflies. He had never felt such comfort, such reassurance in his life, especially after returning home from the army.
Flickers igniting as he leaned in closer and closer until their lips touched, tentively for the first time. The smell of her cotton candy and caramel, so sweet and so soft, it was almost dizzying, but he was more than thrilled to let it consume him. 
Y/N briefly parted her lips to let him in and leaned into the kiss, wanting more of the delicious sensation of his lips, his tongue on hers. Bucky wanted nothing more than devour her, memorizing of every single moan that fell into his mouth.
It felt so right; it was exactly was his soul had been yearning for and more.
Breaking the kiss was the reminder to both of them they need air to breath, and Bucky rested his forehead on hers as he took in everything that just happened.
While Y/N found herself completely drunk to the feeling of love within her body and soul, she whispered dearly as she scatters most tender kisses all over Bucky's face, "You're so pretty. So perfect. So... mine."
And that caught Bucky in another spiral of confusion; she could see it in face especially with his sapphire eyes being as wide as they were.
She giggled amusingly before she proposed, "Will you be mine, James Bucky Barnes?"
God, he was supposed to be the alpha here. But what can he say, his omega is quite a special one.
He breathed a relief sigh, "Yes." Leaned in for a quick taste of her lips before asking his a question of his own, "And you're mine?"
Her nose crunched as she booped its tip on his, "Always." She replied. Bucky could feel her smile against his lips and so does she.
Unbeknownst to the happy couple, a few feet away from them was Peggy who was busy clicking her camera away, trying to get the best shot she could out of the couple while Steve was trying hard to hold back his proud sniffles as he stood guard near his omega.
End.
Read my other works here: Masterlist
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A/N: Sooooooo what you think? Feel free to give feedback I love reading your thoughts!
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solar-wing · 8 months ago
Text
⚣ Love's Punishment 🏛️
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⚣🏛️ A/N → If y'all knew how many times I deleted and restarted this entire thing... I don't even remember how I got this idea, I just remember wanting to write an obsession/love spell fic where some male superheroes go batshit crazy & horny over the reader. Either way, hope you all enjoy it. WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI | OMEGAVERSE | Canon-Typical Violence | Alpha Barry Allen/Flash | Alpha Hal Jordan/Green Lantern | Alpha Clark Kent/Superman | Demigod-Omega Male Reader | Obsessive Behavior/Actions | Attempted Non-Con | Dub-Con | Oral Play | Knotting | Bonding Marks | Sneaky & Meddlesome Gods & Goddesses |
Prompts Used: @rednsuch – #39 “Just the smell of you gets me excited, darling.” – #13 “Stop being such a brat.”
⚣🏛️ Summary → One may ask what it's like having a God or Goddess for a parent. Honestly, not fun, and Y/N is a perfect example of that considering how he's being punished by his mother. How do you even bring up this level of mommy issues in therapy?
⚣🏛️ Word Count → 6.2K
REBLOGS and replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛
⚣ ENJOY 🏛️
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Daddy issues this, and Daddy issues that.
What about the people who have mommy issues? Because they exist, and Y/N would be shocked if anyone else’s relationship challenges with their mother were similar to his own.
Truthfully, he would never understand or believe the idea that someone could have sex and procreate with a god or goddess and not have one clue. There was no divine light following behind them? No wisps of magic or sparkles. No flowers and bright auras left in their footpaths?
Nothing, not a single clue?
Bullshit.
You may ask yourself, “Y/N, whatever could be wrong with someone having adult fun and having children with a god or goddess?”
Lots of things, actually. There could be an encyclopedia on why that could be a bad idea with lots of consequences to follow. Too many to get into right at this moment considering he was busy trying to cover his head and face from getting blasted while hanging off a superhero’s shoulders like a sack of potatoes.
Getting punished by a god or goddess was not for the weak.
No kid liked getting in trouble and punished by their parents. It was a very unpleasant and frustrating feeling when you had to answer for something you either 100% did without thinking of the circumstances, or something that happened and you were the victim of said circumstances.
But imagine getting punished by your God or Goddess parent for something that you had no control over. Even more, something said parent was directly responsible for!
The hypocrisy of it all.
Y/N’s father was a handsome man. Their genes were always divinely blessed, the Alpha always liked to joke, and the young Omega didn’t realize the irony of that statement until he got older and started questioning things.
Whenever he thought about changing his appearance or switching something up, it happened immediately without any action or movement from him. At one point during some teenage life crisis, he wanted to go blonde but didn’t even need to purchase dye. One moment he’s looking at his natural hair color and looks down to grab his comb. Next thing he knows, he’s got a full head of blond hair in the exact style he imagined. And it looked goood.
There was another time when he wished in his head that the sweater he was eyeing while shopping was gray instead of red, but according to the store, they never produced that particular color. When he went to go look at other options, imagine his surprise when he turned back two minutes later and it seemed as if the store did indeed have gray. And from a closer look, they only had gray. Starting to see the point?
Y/N could read people like a book, especially pertaining to feelings of affection, desire, and jealousy. Imagine the ability to feel someone’s very adult-like feelings, and you hadn’t even hit puberty yet. His dad had to have the birds and the bees talk with him much earlier than planned.
One of the most concerning things was Y/N's naturally attractive aura and charming voice. Though, he couldn’t tell if it was his voice or just the words he spoke that were attractive. But, people seemed to flock to him like moths to a flame. Even at a young age, many fought for his attention, whether it was classmates, friends, family, or strangers he’d run into when out with his dad.
It was normal for an Omega to be highly desired and sought after by Alphas, but it wasn’t just them fighting for his attention. Y/N had Betas and Omegas alike competing with each other for the chance to get acquainted with him.
By the time he entered high school, on record, he had up to four secret admirers (and two stalkers), and when things only seemed to get more out of control, that’s when his dad finally decided to sit him down and explain the truth to him.
“So, yeah. Probably should have told you this when you were younger, but your mom’s Aphrodite.”
Not joking, he 100% said it just like that.
Of course, you can imagine the Omega’s confusion and somewhat anger that this information had been withheld for most of his life. Now, not only did Y/N have to deal with the everyday struggles of life and being an Omega, but he also had to balance being the demigod son to the Goddess of Beauty, Love, and Desire. When you think about it, it made the Omega thing 10x more stressful than it already was.
This was the type of shit people wrote and fantasized about.
Wait a sec…
Nah.
Now, back to the beginning, since we have some more context, what was this so-called punishment, and why did it have Y/N grumbling about mommy issues while being whisked around the nation’s capital as some superheroes had it out with each other over who got to claim his body affection?
Oh, nothing serious, really. Just mommy dearest trying to interfere with her son’s love life! Who knew the immortal parents were privy to the same, petty tactics as their mortal counterparts…
Unlike most others who would be excited at the thought of being the child of Aphrodite, Y/N felt he had an unfair advantage when it came to dating and relationships, given his semi-godly abilities and gifts. After his last relationship ended in a horror show with a sequel he promised would never see production, he swore off dating and romance for good.
Well, that didn’t fly too well with Aphrodite. Her children, full-blood and half-blood, were always known for their romantic escapades. One of them was the face of Valentine’s Day! Well, his cousin from Rome was, at least.
So, with the help of her son and Y/N’s half-brother, Eros, God of Love, Lust, and Sex, (the mentioned Greek cousin to Cupid) they set up a little divine punishment for the young Demigod to teach him a lesson for rejecting his goldy heritage. It also paid off as insurance, just in case.
Deities and their children were always known to be stubborn little beings.
Aphrodite sent Eros down to Earth to follow his half-blood sibling around, observing his actions and who he interacted with. And, for any male Alpha that the Omega came in contact with, the God of Lust was to ensure a connection was established between the two if he deemed them worthy enough.
Simply put, he was to shoot male Alpha he figured his mother would approve as a match for her son/his brother in the ass with a love arrow. Now, why she told him to shoot only male Alphas and not female, you’d have to ask her.
Mother knows best.
Unlucky for Y/N, they chose one of the worst days to do that when he happened to be in Washington, D.C. for a work-related trip.
Do you know what else is in Washington, D.C.? The Justice League headquarters.
But, why would that be a problem? Do you really need an explanation?
Imagine how interesting it would be if, at the same time Y/N happened to be in Washington, D.C., one of the famous Justice League heroes like Flash, Green Lantern, or Superman happened to be there as well. Picture how tempting of an opportunity it would be for Eros after he was told to find the best potential matches for his little brother.
Pretty damn tempting if you ask anyone else.
Now, if we’re being truthful, Superman was Eros’ ideal choice for his brother, knowing their mother would definitely approve of the relationship between her son and the Kryptonian. Even if he wasn’t an Alpha due to his alien biology, he still had all the ideal traits of one. Not to mention his strong features and handsome looks.
But, he wasn’t opposed to one of the other heroes like Flash or Green Lantern. And when the latter had been the one to save Y/N during some random battle that broke out between the League and some villains, he figured why not just shoot them all and see who came out on top?
Plus, he was the God of Sex just as much as he was of Love. He wanted to see who out of the three heroes had the sexual prowess to handle someone like his brother. Prude or not, being mated to a child of Aphrodite meant you had to be strong in a lot of ways, especially when it came down to the nitty and gritty.
And who said he couldn’t get a little entertainment out of this?
That entertainment is what led Y/N to his situation of being carried throughout the city like some prize while the world’s defenders fought with each other like kids trying to get the last cookie in the jar.
As said, it started with Green Lantern rescuing him and carrying him away to some random rooftop. Everything seemed normal until Y/N noticed a change in the hero and his sudden lustful gazes that were being directed at him. He'd been on the receiving end of a fair amount of adoration and attention by admiring and persistent Alphas, but this he could tell was something different.
And it was.
Eros had shot Green Lantern with the love arrow while they were still in the sky. Now, instead of thinking about the fight he was leaving his comrades to handle by themselves without his assistance, all his thoughts were centered around the Omega in his arms and how blessed he was to be in the presence of such a radiant being.
And how much he couldn't wait to claim his body all for himself. Besides, no one was more fitting or deserving of an Omega of Y/N's stature than the Green Lantern himself. At least, that's what his love-delusioned, and frankly, naturally egotistical mind believed.
Y/N didn't have time to even question what was going on before the green-clad hero had whisked him away to a rooftop, not too far from where the fight was happening. He figured it was over after that and the Alpha would return to his comrades after setting him down.
Imagine the Omega's shock when he found himself pressed against a wall, the hero kissing and nuzzling his neck while running his hands down his body.
"W-What are you doing?" Y/N stuttered out, trying to push the man away but to no avail.
"What does it look like? I'm saving you," The hero's voice was gruff and desperate, and the Omega was starting to get concerned.
"Okay, but this is less saving and more of molesting," Y/N struggled, having his arms pinned against the wall before feeling a hand running down his body towards his pants.
"I'm saving you from other Alphas trying to claim you. After this, you'll belong to me, and me only," Lantern growled gruffly in his ear, an aggressiveness that was all too familiar to the Omega. He'd seen this behavior before but didn't have much time to think about it as the hero started unbuttoning his pants.
"W-Wait! Stop!"
"No, I can't," Lantern shook his head, his eyes glazed over.
"You're under a spell or something!" Y/N tried again, but his words fell on deaf ears.
"I can't stop myself. I need you now," The hero growled, finally pulling the Omega's pants and underwear down before undoing his own and pulling out his throbbing, hard cock.
"No! Stop! You don't want to do this!"
"Stop being such a brat. I need to do this," Lantern's voice was firm and demanding.
Before the green-clad hero could achieve his objective, he was suddenly yanked off the Omega by a red and yellow blur, electricity crackling off it. The Omega after realizing he was free wasted no time in pulling his underwear and pants back up, watching as the blur, now recognized to be Flash, was currently fighting with Green Lantern near the edge of the rooftop.
"What are you doing, man?!" Flash yelled, trying to restrain the other hero.
"Let go of me, I need to save him!" Lantern growled, fighting the speedster's hold.
"From what?" Flash questioned, looking at the Omega confused.
"He's mine!"
"He's not yours!"
"Yes, he is!"
"GL, you need to get a grip."
"He's my Omega! I need to mark him!"
From his position, Y/N could see Flash was struggling to hold the other Alpha down and figured he should probably make his exit right about now. He made his way over to the fire escape, about to climb over until a figure floated up from below.
Superman, ever in his large and slightly intimidating form with his cape blowing in the wind looked down at the Omega with a smile, offering his hand, "Need some help?"
The Omega smiled with a soft blush, trying to quell his nerves at the Alpha's admittedly very handsome and chiseled face. Again, the Omega was no prude, nor was he oblivious to all the gossip and rumors of the world's protectors and their handsome and muscular figures. The latter was made even more prominent by the tight nature of their uniforms.
Y/N would be lying if he said he wasn't looking at Flash's prominent glutes hidden under the red spandex.
But, before the Omega took the Kryptonian's equally large hand, he noticed something in the background. The fight that initially led to this whole mess was still going on. Yet, three of the main superheroes involved in that fight were over here. Flash, he threw to the back of his mind since the speedster did technically save him. But, why was Superman here?
That's when Y/N noticed something in the Kryptonian hero's eyes. An expression almost identical to the one he just saw in Green Lantern.
Uh oh.
Before the Omega could even react, the Alpha had already scooped him up into his arms and flew off into the sky.
"H-Hey! Put me down!" Y/N stuttered, struggling in the Alpha's hold.
"I can't. I need to save you," Superman's voice was low and deep, and the Omega could feel the vibrations from his chest.
Hmm, where had he heard that before?
"Save me from what?"
"Other Alphas trying to claim you," The Kryptonian explained, and Y/N could have sworn he heard a growl in his voice.
A nervous feeling settled into his stomach, and if he wasn't careful, he'd find himself falling prey and submissive to the very situation he was trying to find a way out of. Being Aphrodite's son as mentioned before, he had an extraordinary gift with the power of emotions and desires. He could project his feelings of desire and love onto others, just as much as he could mirror them.
Another one of those aforementioned consequences of deities breeding with mortals.
The only thing Y/N struggled to figure out though was why all of this was happening. He'd never had a run-in with any of these heroes before, and the only time he'd seen behavior like this was when it was related to his...
...Of course.
His mother.
Now, everything was starting to make sense. This could only be the work of mommy dearest, and if Y/N had to guess, his half-brother Eros as well.
He'd have to deal with that problem later, though. Right now, he needed to focus on the task at hand, and that was escaping the arms of a very powerful, very strong, and very horny superhero.
"You're mine. I'll protect you from the others," Superman continued, and Y/N could feel a slight rumble in the Alpha's chest.
"I'm not yours," The Omega shook his head, continuing to struggle.
"Yes, you are. You're mine," The Kryptonian's grip tightened, and the Omega winced at the pain.
Y/N looked down and quickly rid himself of any thoughts that he could survive a fall from this height. Even if he was Aphrodite's son, he lacked something vitally important that his mother and brother both possessed. Immortality.
Hopefully, he could figure another way out of this.
He knew there was no reasoning with the Alpha. As long as he was under Eros' spell, no amount of logic or reasoning would get through to him. As cliché as it may sound, Y/N needed a divine intervention.
Thankfully, it seemed as if one was on the way.
Trails of green energy suddenly surrounded the pair, forming a giant floating cage. Superman turned to see his comrade, having escaped from Flash's grasp flying toward them.
"Get away from him!" Green Lantern yelled, flying towards the duo.
"No! He belongs to me. You have no right to him Lantern," Superman shouted back, clutching the Omega closer.
"You're not even a real Alpha, Clark! You're not even strong enough to make an Omega like him submit to you."
"What did you just say?!"
"You heard me, you fake-ass Alpha. I'm the only one worthy enough for him. Not some alien trash!"
"Why, you-"
Before the two could continue their argument, a vortex suddenly surrounded the two, causing Lantern to lose his focus. The energy cage surrounding the Kryptonian and Omega dissipated and the force from the vortex sent the two heroes to lose their flying. Superman tried his best to stay in the air, but the sudden force was too much and caused him to crash into a nearby building while Lantern crashed into a dumpster.
The Kryptonian managed to shield the Omega from the damage and brunt of their fall by wrapping him in his body. When Y/N realized they weren't falling anymore and had come to a complete stop, he peeked from the Alpha's hold, just in time to see the return of a certain Speedster who must have run up the side of the building to where they were now.
"Are you guys alright?" Flash asked, his eyes landing on the Omega in Superman's arms.
"I'm fine," Y/N nodded, and Flash sighed in relief.
"A vortex, Flash? Really?" Superman questioned with a raised eyebrow, still holding the Omega to his body.
"It was the quickest way to get you two out of the air without hurting anyone," Flash defended, crossing his arms.
"By throwing us into a building?"
"Better than the ground."
"You could have gotten him killed!"
"You were the one holding him!"
"Guys, I'm fine. I promise," Y/N interrupted, and the two Alphas turned to him.
"See, he's fine. Let's get back to the fight," Flash suggested, turning to leave.
"No, not until he's mine," Superman shook his head, and the Omega groaned. He stood up from the ground, letting the Omega stand on his own feet, but keeping an arm wrapped body to prevent him from running off.
"Not this again," Flash sighed, turning back, "You can't claim him."
"And why not?"
"Because he's mine," Lantern's voice suddenly joined the conversation, and the three turned to see the hero, seemingly recovered from his fall, walking towards them.
"No, he's mine!" Superman shouted, his eyes suddenly glowing red as he pointed them at the green-clad hero.
"Clark, no!" Flash shouted, holding his arms up in an attempt to stop the Kryptonian.
"No, he's mine. He's mine. He's mine!" The Kryptonian yelled, his eyes getting brighter.
"Clark, you're gonna kill him!"
"I don't care, Barry. No one is taking my Omega from me."
"He's not yours to claim," Lantern shouted back.
While this was all happening, everyone was oblivious to the new presence that had joined him. Only, none of the heroes could see him. Only Y/N could, and that was a very big problem.
"Eros..." Y/N muttered under his breath, narrowing his gaze at his half-brother who held a mischievous grin on his face while positioning himself slowly behind the speedster.
When Y/N realized what he was doing, he struggled in the Kryptonian's grip, "Eros, no!"
But, it was too late. The deity had taken his shot at the Flash, hitting him perfectly square in the back. The speedster flinched at the impact, turning to look around but finding nothing there, at least, nothing his sight could see. But, when he turned his gaze back around and they fell on the Omega still trapped in Superman's hands, an identical glaze to match the one in the other heroes fell over his eyes. One the half-blood was all too familiar with.
"Oh fuck..." Y/N muttered under his breath.
"Mine," Flash growled, his eyes trained on the Omega.
Before either of the two other heroes could react, Flash sped forward and landed a bunch of fast punches and blows on the Kryptonian, causing him to lose his grip on the Omega.
"Flash, what are you doing?" Lantern yelled at his comrade.
"Taking what's mine," The speedster responded, a charming but crazed look in his expression.
He grabbed Y/N and threw him over his shoulder, the Omega flailing in his grip while also trying to hold on tight as the speedster sped around the space, avoiding attacks from both Green Lantern and Superman at the same time.
"He's not yours, Barry!" Superman shouted, his heat vision shooting at the speedster who avoided it with ease.
"Yes, he is! He's mine!" The speedster yelled, clutching the Omega tighter.
"No, he's mine," Lantern yelled back, sending a giant fist toward the speedster who avoided it in a blur.
"No, he's mine!" Superman yelled, sending his heat vision at Lantern who in turn blocked it with a shield.
"No, he's mine!" The two shouted together, and the fight resumed.
Y/N, still trapped in the speedster's arms, watched helplessly as the Kryptonian and Lantern focused their attacks on each other, feeling a pat on his ass from the speedster who tightened the grip he had around his legs.
"Don't worry about them, beautiful. They're not worthy enough to have you. I am. You'll be mine, and I'll protect you from the others," Flash's voice was husky, and the Omega could feel his heart pounding against his chest.
"You're under a spell, Flash. You don't want to do this," Y/N tried to reason, but the speedster just laughed.
"Oh, but I do. I didn't know what actual life was until just a few minutes ago when I gazed upon you. and now that I have you, I can finally make you mine," Flash smirked, and the Omega gulped.
Flash sped out of the building with the Omega over his shoulder still, the two other Alphas only noticing their disappearance after they were already a mile down the street.
"Shit, where did he take him?" Lantern asked, looking around.
"I don't know," Superman answered, "But we'll find him. And when we do, you'll be the one who has to step aside."
"Like hell, I will!"
While those two continued to bicker, Flash ran himself and the Omega all the way back to Central City. Y/N was amazed at how he didn't pass out from the speed and movement, but he was grateful he didn't. Also, having superspeed may have made it a bit easier.
Just a guess.
When they finally came to a stop, the Omega was set down on his feet, and he looked around to see they were in some bedroom.
"Where are we?" Y/N asked, trying to keep his composure.
"My bedroom," Flash answered, his eyes still glazed over.
"Oh," Y/N nodded, a nervous feeling in his stomach.
"Don't worry, you're safe here," The speedster walked towards him, and the Omega backed away, "I'm not gonna hurt you."
"You say that, but your eyes say otherwise," Y/N responded, continuing to back away until he hit the wall.
"I know. But, I can't help it. I need to have you," Flash smirked, and the Omega felt his arousal getting excited in his pants.
"I'm not yours to have," Y/N shook his head, his heart pounding.
"Yes, you are," Flash's voice was firm, and the Omega felt his resolve fading.
"I-I'm not," Y/N stuttered, his knees getting weak.
"Yes, you are," The speedster was in front of him, and Y/N could feel his breath on his skin.
"I'm not," Y/N shook his head, but his voice was barely a whisper.
"You are," Flash whispered, his face close to the Omega's.
The very thing Y/N was concerned about happening when he was trapped with Superman earlier began to manifest, much to his fear. His divine abilities were reacting to his body's 'chemistry spikes' and now, he was beginning to mirror the Alpha's current feelings toward him, including the obsessive ones, which were now clouding his judgment.
"I'm not," Y/N shook his head, his breathing getting labored.
"You are," Flash whispered, his lips getting closer to the Omega's.
"I'm not," Y/N stuttered, his body giving in.
"You are," Flash whispered, pressing his lips to the Omega's.
"I'm not," Y/N muttered against his lips.
"You are," Flash said firmly, pulling the Omega's body closer to him.
In a move Y/N thought was him going to push against the Alpha in an attempt to resist his seductions, he actually was running his hands up and down the spandex-covered muscles. His legs were spread open by the speedster as he hoisted him up, wrapping them around his waist while pressing him to the wall, kissing him even harder while undressing his clothes.
"You're mine, Y/N," The speedster whispered, his lips trailing down the Omega's neck, "All mine."
"I'm yours, Barry," Y/N panted, his body flushed. Y/N remembered hearing Superman call the speedster by that, figuring it must have been either his civilian name or a codename they had. Either way, he could see from the delighted expression across the Flash's face and his blue eyes through the slits of his mask that he was very pleased by it.
"Say it again."
"I'm yours, Barry. I'm yours."
"That's right, beautiful. You're mine, and I'm yours. You'll never have to worry about other Alphas again, because I'll protect you from them."
The sun's light cascaded through the open windows in the bedroom as the two continued frotting against each other against the wall. Barry trailed his kisses from Y/N's lips down to his neck and eventually to his naked chest, before sucking on his wet nipples while the Omega through his head back in pleasure, the Alpha looking up at him with his blue eyes before taking his lips away from the leaking nubs.
"Do you like that, darling?" Barry asked, and the Omega nodded, his eyes glazed over, "Are you ready for more?"
"Y-Yes, Alpha," Y/N nodded, his breath labored.
"Good boy," Barry whispered, his voice husky and deep. He kissed the Omega one last time on the lips before pulling him away from the wall, carrying him bridal style to the bed.
Barry laid the Omega down, the latter spreading his legs open in submission and invitation, and the former smirked, climbing on top of the bed. Barry pressed kisses to the side of the Omega's neck again, right over his scent gland before taking a big sniff.
"Just the smell of you gets me excited, darling."
Barry's hands roamed the Omega's upper naked body, feeling the smooth and soft skin while trailing his fingers down his sides and to his hips. Y/N gasped, his hands gripping the sheets as the speedster's fingers teased the inside of his thighs.
"I love the way your skin feels, and the way your body reacts to me," Barry whispered, his nose pressing into the Omega's scent gland.
"Barry," Y/N moaned, his body arching off the bed.
"Say it again," Barry growled, his hands squeezing the Omega's hips.
"Barry," Y/N moaned, his eyes closed.
"That's right, baby. I'm Barry, and you're mine," Barry whispered, his fingers moving up the Omega's inner thighs.
"I'm yours," Y/N nodded, his legs spreading open even wider.
However, before Barry could move to remove the Y/N’s pants, the Omega whined at him, tugging on the spandex of his suit and mask with his hands causing a cheesing smile to appear across the Alpha's face.
"Aw, you want to see me out of my suit, don't you, darling?" Barry asked, and the Omega nodded frantically.
"Yes, Alpha. Please."
"Good boy," Barry praised, and the Omega whimpered.
He quickly removed his gloves and masks, tossing them aside before unzipping the top of his suit and pulling it off, revealing his sculpted and muscled chest. Y/N's eyes widened in delight and appreciation at the sight, reaching his hands out to touch the smooth and pale skin.
The Omega moaned happily at the sight, running his hands down the hard pecs and abs while leaning up to press his own kisses against the skin. Barry shuddered above him from the move while resuming his earlier actions of removing the offending pants and underwear that were hiding his prize from his sight.
Tossing the pants aside, he leaned up and took in the sight of the fully naked Omega, writhing on his sheets and whining for him, feeling his own throbbing hard erection under his suit pants.
"Look at you, darling. So beautiful, and all mine," Barry ran his hands down the Omega's sides, creating a tickling feeling that had the smaller male giggling, "I can't wait to claim your body, all for me," he growled, voice husky with want.
Barry kissed his way down the Omega's chest, taking a moment to bite and lick at the leaking nubs again before gripping his thighs and spreading them open. He positioned his head between the open legs while staring at the tight, slick-producing hole in front of him. He lapped his tongue to gather of taste of it on his tongue, Y/N flinching violently at the sensation while calling out the Alpha's name.
"Delicious," Barry muttered, before diving in on the wet treat in front of him.
"Oh fuck," Y/N moaned, his hands gripping the bed sheets tightly.
Barry's tongue lapped at the dripping slick, his hands gripping the Omega's thighs tight and pushing them open even further to gain better access. Y/N moaned, his back arching off the bed while the Alpha's tongue entered his hole, tasting him from the inside.
"Barry, please. Please, I need it. Please," Y/N begged, his body shaking with arousal and want.
Barry didn't listen to him though, he kept feasting on the Omega's arousal while using his speed to vibrate his tongue inside him, causing the Omega to moan even louder, his body shaking with pleasure.
"Barry, please! a-ah, fuck ... !" Y/N cried, his body shaking even more.
"What do you need, baby? Tell me," Barry asked, pulling his tongue out and looking at the Omega with a smirk.
"I-I need you... Please, please," Y/N begged, and the Alpha smiled.
"You want me, baby?"
"Yes, Alpha. Please, I need you. Please."
"Well, since you asked so nicely."
The Alpha discarded the rest of his suit and underwear, his throbbing erection springing free, causing the Omega to lick his lips at the sight. Barry chuckled at his reaction while pulling him down the bed and picking him up in his arms, wrapping the smaller male's legs around him and pressing him against the wall.
Barry played with his cock against the Y/N's wet heat, enjoying the pleasurable reactions that ran across the Omega's face. "Who's your Alpha?" He asked with another playful smack of his mushroom head against the hot and throbbing entrance.
"Y-You, Alpha," Y/N panted, his face red and eyes glazed over.
"That's right, baby. I'm your Alpha," Barry whispered before he slowly slid inside the Omega.
"Fuck!" Y/N yelled, his head leaning back against the wall.
"So tight and warm. It's like you were made just for me, baby," Barry moaned, his cock pushing all the way in until his balls were pressed against the Omega's ass.
Y/N dug his nails into the skin of Barry's shoulders while the Alpha pressed him harder against the wall, his hips rapidly moving back and forth as he fucked him hard. The speedster's hips and legs were already dripping with more and more of the Omega's arousal as it dripped into his carpet, creating more of a mess the harder he thrust in and out of the hole.
"h-harder ... p-please, harder ..." Y/N moaned, his eyes closed while Barry sucked on his neck.
"So beautiful," Barry growled, his hands gripping the Omega's ass cheeks while thrusting harder, "Such a good little Omega, taking my cock so well."
"Barry! Barry!" Y/N moaned, his legs wrapped tighter around the Alpha's waist.
"Say it again," Barry growled, his hips moving faster.
"Barry!" Y/N moaned, his back arching.
Suddenly, Barry got the bright idea to add his speed to it, making his hips move at a pace that would be deemed impossible for any regular human. Good thing he wasn't a regular human. However, the increase in speed had Y/N shouting at the top of his lungs, tears springing to his eyes as he pounded his fists against the Alpha's hard, mildly sweaty chest.
Meanwhile, Y/N was a soaking mess. The shine from the sweat all around his body was highlighted by the sun's fading rays and the increasingly bright glow from the streetlights outside the window. Combined with the sticky fluid still leaking from his chest and the slick that was all but splashing between the Alpha and Omega.
"That's it, baby. Take my cock. Take it all," Barry growled, his hips moving faster.
"Barry, I-I'm gonna... I'm gonna cum," Y/N cried, his legs shaking.
"Do it. Cum for me, baby," Barry commanded, and the Omega followed.
"Fuck!" Y/N screamed, his back arching and his eyes rolling back into his head as he came between the two, digging nails into Barry's sweaty back as his release overwhelmed him.
"That's a good Omega," Barry said, before slipping out of the smaller male, carrying him over to the bed and propping him up on all fours.
He gripped the Omega's hips, sliding back inside him and fucking him at a rapid pace, his hips slapping against the plump ass cheeks. Y/N's eyes rolled back into his head as he cried out, his body shaking with pleasure while the Alpha fucked him.
"That's it, baby. Take it," Barry growled, his grip tightening on the Omega's hips.
"p-please, I can't... FUCK! I can't take anymore... !" Y/N cried, his body shaking as the Alpha started using his powers again to increase his speed.
"You can, and you will," Barry growled, his hips moving even faster.
"Barry, please! Fuck, I'm gonna... !"
"Do it. Cum for me, baby. Cum for your Alpha," Barry growled.
"mm ... mmh ... ! O-OHH, FUCK ... !" Y/N shouted, his back arching and his eyes rolling back into his head as he came, his legs and body shaking from the overstimulation as the Alpha started to chase his own finish.
Barry's knot started to form at the base and slowly was inching closer and closer as the Alpha fucked the Omega who was beginning to softly cry from the amount of pleasure and pain he was experiencing. His hands weakly tried to push against the speedster's hips in an attempt to slow him down but were snatched together in a grip while feeling a painful smack against his ass.
"Don't try and fight it, baby. Just let me claim you. Just let me have you," Barry growled, throwing his head back in pleasure.
"Barry, I-I can't ... !" Y/N cried, his body shaking.
"Yes, you can. Just a little longer," Barry's hips started to stutter, and the Omega cried out, his legs shaking as he felt the Alpha's knot starting to press against his hole.
"Barry, please! PLEASE ... !" Y/N sobbed, his body convulsing on the inside from the overwhelming sensation.
"Just a little longer, baby. Just a little longer."
"I-I can't... Please, I can't ... !"
"Almost there, baby. Who's your Alpha?"
"Y-You... You are ... !"
"That's right, baby. I'm your Alpha. And, now I'm gonna make you mine. Forever."
With that, Barry pressed all the way inside, releasing his knot into the Omega with a loud groan as he leaned forward, catching himself on the bed as Y/N had his third orgasm against the sheets, suddenly feeling heavy and drained from the strenuous workout he just went through.
While the pair were both recovering, neither of them realized the small, matching marks that slowly appeared over their scent glands. They were now a fully mated pair, and the God of Love and Sex knew this as he peered in through the window, watching the sweaty individuals with satisfaction.
"Welp, my job's done. I'm sure Mother will be pleased with this outcome. Serves you right, brother. You should know better than to try and deny your heritage. Hope you learn well from this punishment."
With that, the deity disappeared, making his way home.
Meanwhile...
"That should be the last of them," Lantern said, flying through the air after he captured the last of the attacking minions.
"Good," Superman nodded, his eyes still glowing white as he scanned the area.
"What are you doing?" Lantern asked, looking at the Kryptonian confused.
"Looking for him."
"Who?"
"The Omega."
"Oh yeah, do you think Barry already claimed him?"
"Probably, but it doesn't matter. Cause he belongs to me, and I'm going to take him back, by whatever means necessary."
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☀️ | Barry Allen/Flash | ☀️
☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️
1K notes · View notes
biting-miguel-ohara · 3 months ago
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Alpha - Logan Howlett x ftm!reader
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A/N: Hi! Um, this is my first work within the fandom! This was written with X-Men Logan in mind. Fic is unedited with no use of Y/N. This is so self-indulgent, so please be nice
Please make sure to read the tags carefully! They’re there for a reason
CW: Reader is a wolf mutant; Logan and Reader get off to a tense start; Reader is implied to be pre-op ftm, via the use of sports bras; implied wet dreams; use of the words slick and wet to describe Reader’s arousal; a/b/o dynamics? maybe?; misunderstandings; rough sex; pet play? (Reader is called pup); Reader is referred to as handsome; grinding; fingering; use of the word dick to describe Reader’s parts; overstimulation; no use of safe word; unprotected piv; multiple orgasms; implied aftercare
2493 words
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The first thing you notice about Logan is his scent.
Not that you know it belongs to him. But it’s all you can smell as you talk to Jean. Thick and heady and strong. Musky like an animal and cloying like smoke.
Jean, of course, can tell you’re distracted. Instead of calling you out on it, she simply calls him in. Him and Scott enter at the same time, with an air of tension between them. Not that you care for long.
You’re too busy ogling the man in front of you. Rugged and handsome, more like a mountain man than a teacher.
Yet, that’s how Jean introduces him. Logan Howlett. History teacher.
You smile politely. You hold out your hand and try to not get too offended when he doesn’t shake it. You can tell he’s wary of you. Not that you could blame him.
You must be giving off a scent of your own, though you can’t smell it. But you can hear his inhale, feel the way his eyes watch you. You know he knows.
Especially when he straightens up. Lifting his chin and widening his stance. Establishing his dominance in a more subtle way than most other males. Perhaps he’s just that assured in his position.
Either way, you can feel your instincts itching at the back of your mind. The desire to submit. To recognize his authority. It pricks at you like a needle, but you brush it away. You’ve had enough of submitting to men like him. If he wants it, he’ll have to earn it.
Jean rests a hand on Logan’s arm, softly scolding him, probably for what he’s thinking. “Hey, be nice. They’re a wolf mutant.”
“A wolf mutant?” He looks unimpressed.
You stand your ground. Your nerves are starting to buzz from the force of his gaze. You hate stare downs, but you can’t lose this one.
“Yeah.” You answer him yourself. “That’s me.”
He scoffs and looks you up and down. “Yeah, whatever, bub. You ever even see a real wolf?”
You know what he’s doing and you hate it. But at least he’s not mistaking you for a girl and being all overly nice. You’d rather get his blunt side than his fake side.
“No. I’m a wolf mutant, not a real wolf.” You at least try to keep some of the sarcasm from your voice. Trying’s worth something, right?
Logan doesn’t look impressed. He crosses his arms, which prompts Scott to finally step in. “Welcome to Xavier’s Home for—“
“Thanks.” You interrupt him with a smile, but your gaze never leaves Logan’s.
Scott seems caught off guard. “Why… don’t I show you around…?”
Something in you relaxes at the thought of being away from such an intimidating man like Logan. You nod and accept his offer.
On your tour, your thoughts keep drifting back to Logan. Even away from him, your body sets on edge at the thought of him. He’s going to be trouble for you, you’re sure of it.
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Most of the mutants at Xavier’s are surprisingly accepting of you. The adults, you mean. You don’t tell the kids.
Maybe it’s because you have Jean and Scott on your side, but most of the adults don’t bother you after learning your secret. Most of them find out when you come to training wearing a sports bra and baggy pants.
A few have questions. Most just leave you alone.
You’ve never been more grateful that Logan wasn’t around than during that particular training session.
The tension between the two of you has only gotten worse. You’re sticking by your defiance to his posturing, even at the expense of your pride. Your nerves hate it as well, practically screaming at you whenever Logan gets too close.
Part of you can’t figure it out. You’ve been around men like him before, but never with this reaction. The other part of you doesn’t care enough.
And yet, you care enough to be relieved that he doesn’t directly know your secret. It’s not a huge deal; you’re pretty sure Jean would’ve told him by now. But it’s still nice that he doesn’t know from you.
Until he does.
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The whole day starts with you feeling off. You have one of those good dreams, and wake up in a puddle of your own slick. Definitely a damper to your morning.
Then they run out of your favorite breakfast food, some of your students are late to class, and it goes on and on.
By evening you are pissed. Not just at life but at yourself. Because the one thing you cannot get out of your mind is your dream.
You can remember strong arms. Growls of your name. A thick cock bullying its way between your legs. Delicious pleasure.
But you cannot remember the face. It eludes you all day. Stuck there at the back of your mind. On the tip of your tongue.
It’s not until Logan walks into your classroom after your last class that it hits you. With horrifying, picture perfect clarity.
Logan. It was Logan. You had a fucking wet dream about Logan.
Even worse? You’re not as opposed to the idea as you thought you’d be.
For a moment, you’re just staring at Logan. He raises an eyebrow. “You okay, bub?”
“Uh, yeah.” You hastily gather up your things, hoping beyond hope that he can’t smell the slight arousal you feel.
You know it’s too late when you brush by him and he stiffens. You know he can smell you. It doesn’t help the problem.
“What—“
You make your exit. Very fast. Very undignifying. But he doesn’t follow, so you count it as a win.
Two things change. The first is that you start avoiding Logan as much as possible. The second…
Well, the second is that he features in every single one of your dirty fantasies. Every wet dream. Every random horny thought. All Logan.
And it is infuriating.
Logically, you know why. He’s the protector of the house. The ‘alpha’ of the pack, so to speak. Sooner or later your body would react to his presence. He’s strong, handsome, and gruff. Literally your type.
You still blame it on your biology and pretend you don’t think of him when you get off.
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It works for a week. One week, that’s how long you get before Logan corners you in the Training Room.
The moment you smell his musky scent, you know you’re fucked. He smells like anger. And something more that you try really hard to not think about.
But this moment was to come eventually, so you gear yourself up and face him head on.
You know you’re a sight. Sweaty and out of breath, wearing a sports bra and pants. If he didn’t know before, he sure does now.
Logan stops a few feet away from you. He eyes you up and down, frowning slightly. For a moment, there’s nothing but silence between you.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” he says gruffly.
You cross your arms and wait for him to continue. Slivers of anxiety spiking through your body.
“Why? Why are you avoiding me?” Logan looks frustrated and it makes you want to cower. Shrink down and beg for his forgiveness.
You hated it. How dare he make you feel this way? All because you’re stuck with a fucking wolf mutation that makes you want to hide like a little puppy from him.
So you push against your instincts. Straighten yourself up. Meet his gaze full on. “What does it matter why?”
Logan blinks. As if he hadn’t been expecting your defiance. Then he rumbles out a growl. “You missed the team training session yesterday. How are we supposed to make sure you’re ready for missions if you don’t show up?”
It’s your turn to blink. To stare. To be confused. “What?”
He crosses his arms, unintentionally making his forearms stand out so perfectly. Not that you’re noticing, of course. Just another pesky side effect of his presence.
“You’re one of the most capable mutants here,” Logan says firmly. “So if you have an issue, let’s talk about it now.”
“Wait, you’re here about missions?”
He nods. Then frowns. “What else would I be here for?”
Suddenly you feel stupid. Absolutely stupid. “So… you’re not here about…” You gesture to your body.
His frown deepens. “What?”
“You know,” your anxiety feels like fire ants in your stomach. “The fact that my body is—“
“I could care less, bub,” he says bluntly. “It’s your body.”
You want to cry. You want to laugh. This whole time you’ve been stressing about Logan, and he hasn’t given a single fuck.
You relax. Your anxiety dissipating so fast it makes your head feel funny. That’s one of your problems solved.
And the other?
Well, it only gets worse.
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It all comes to a head on a random Tuesday.
Scott, Jean, and Ororo are off on a mission. The students have all been dismissed from their classes. You’re in the Training Room, working out yet another filthy dream about Logan.
Your fantasies about him have gotten more intense now that you know he doesn’t care about the way your body is. It’s a major, major problem. You’ve started getting dehydrated from the amounts of slick you’re creating.
Which is why you’re in the Training Room instead of getting off. You’re lucky Jean and the Professor haven’t said anything yet, but sooner or later they’re gonna know.
You’re working through your third round of training dummies when a scent catches your attention. Musk and thick smoke. You stop immediately.
“Don’t mind me,” Logan says, a hint of amusement in his gruff tone. “I’m just here to train as well.”
Your hopes for training might as well be ashes in the wind. There is no way you are going to be able to focus on anything other than him.
“Wanna spar?” You ask, false cockiness in your voice.
Instantly your instincts are screaming at you. Challenging the alpha to a fight? You might as well give up your position in the school now. No one challenges an alpha to a fight without a cause behind them.
Excessive horniness apparently didn’t count to your wolf brain. But it did to you.
Logan eyes you. He seems tense; can he smell your light arousal in the air?
“Sure.” You find yourself both relaxing and tensing at his agreement.
You clear the floor and get into your positions. Your instincts start to settle, helping you focus. You take a breath, and move.
The sparring is brutal. Fun and exhilarating, but brutal.
One thing leads to another, and the next thing you know you’re flat on your back. Logan pinning you down. One hand keeping your hands above your head, the other keeping your waist against the floor. His knee nudged between your legs.
You get wet ridiculously fast. You’re panting, gasping for breath, and you can smell your own arousal. You can feel the slick coating your thighs, soaking through your boxers.
You meet Logan’s gaze. Your wolf instincts are mostly quiet for once. Probably because he already has you pinned down. The only thought in your head?
Submit to him.
Logan’s pupils are blown. He’s panting too, and you know he can smell you.
“You into this sort of shit?” He asks, voice hoarse.
You can’t do much against the instincts of your brain. You let your head rest against the floor. “Into you, maybe.”
There’s a moment of silence.
Logan’s voice is rougher than you’ve ever heard it. The sound goes straight to your core.
“Tell me you don’t want this,” he growls, “and it’ll never have happened.”
“I want this,” you say, a hint of a whimper in your voice. “Logan, I need—“
His mouth smashes against yours. It’s not pretty, it’s not delicate. He kisses you like he’s starving, ravaging your mouth. Nipping at your lips until the tang of blood fills your mouth.
It’s not pretty, but it makes you oh so wet.
You moan into his mouth, struggling against his hold on you. You want to rake your fingers through his hair, buck up against him, really just anything more than what he’s giving you now.
“Settle down, pup,” he growls.
Your body responds embarrassingly fast. You still, panting into his mouth.
“Please,” you beg, “please, Logan, I need you.”
He smirks. Nudges his knee against your crotch. Even the slight amount of friction feels like heaven and you chase it with a moan.
“Dumb little slut,” he mutters. “Bet you’re already soaked for me, huh, handsome?”
You just whine, too busy grinding against his knee to answer. You need more. You need more. Why isn’t he giving you more?
“Logan,” your voice breaks, “Please!”
“Please what?” His fingers ghost along the waistband of your pants. “Use your words.”
“Please touch me,” you whimper.
He smirks, his words dripping with condescension. “Good boy.”
You almost cum just from his words alone. And when his fingers dip under your waistband, sliding into your boxers to circle your dick?
Your vision blurs with pleasure, your body squirming underneath him. He doesn’t let up, just keeps rubbing his fingers against you. It’s torture, pure delicious torture.
“Logan!” You sob. “Too much!”
“Too much?” He mocks. “I can fucking smell you, pup. I can smell the amount of slick pouring out of you. It’s not ‘too much’ till I’ve drained every last drop of cum from your dick.”
As if to make his point, he stuffs two fingers inside you, stretching you out and making you sob. When you start to squirm, he shifts, letting go of your hands in favor of pinning down your waist. Keeping you firmly against the floor.
You burrow your fingers into his hair, gripping tightly to keep from screaming as he curls his fingers against that one spot inside you.
It’s exquisite, mind-numbing, perfect.
He bullies his cock inside you after your third orgasm, stretching you out and making you babble mindlessly. You’re a mess on the floor; fucked out, sweaty, and coated in your own slick.
The sounds are obscene, and you hope to god no one outside the room can hear you.
You can barely feel your legs, lost to everything except the pleasure and the feeling of his hands gripping your thighs as he pounds into you. Over and over and over.
He cums once, and fucks it all back into you. It’s not until you’re literally drooling on the floor that he finally lets up, cumming inside you for the second time.
You whine softly as he pulls out, blearily cracking open your eyes.
“Hush, pup,” he soothes. “Let’s go get you cleaned up.”
He lifts you into his arms and you nuzzle into his chest. Uncaring about how messy you are, or about the puddle of cum and slick left on the floor.
It’s just Logan for now, and you’re content with that.
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prettyboykatsuki · 4 months ago
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ANOTHER WORD FOR HOMESICK (I WANT TO SAY YOUR NAME AGAIN) | M. BACHIRA
☼ tags ; omegaverse, afab + fem!omega!!reader, alpha!bachira, childhood friends to lovers, established reader backstory, coming-of-age, romance, mutual pining, implicit sexual content (virginity loss to an oc), explicit sexual content ft. bonding, knotting, penetration, oral (f!recieving), fingering, praise, lovey dovey dirty talk, petnames (mostly baby) 18+
++ notes: readers appearance is mostly non-descript but they are shorter than bachira and have several piercings and a tattoo which are explained in story.
☼ content warnings ; lore applicable sexism, sexual harassment of reader as a minor (details in authors note, explained further in extended authors note), lore applicable homophobia, implied bisexuality + referenced mutual queerness queerness, underage drinking, heat / estrus as a symptom of puberty
please thoroughly read content warnings and tags before clicking read more.
☼ ao3 link | extended authors note | fics for gaza
THIS IS PART TWO. CLICK HERE TO HERE PART ONE.
☼ wc ; 16.8k / 33.2k
☼ a/n ; sorry for the incredibly long wait. as always i got extremely carried away. but cheers for fujoneet reader coming after this! written as part of the @ficsforgaza intiative
☼ synopsis ; you spend the next four years of your life pining miserably and trying to get over your first love. it all comes crashing during the year you turned twenty-one, fresh out of a break-up and forced to reconcile with your estranged childhood friend.
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PART TWO: LIGHT MY WAY BACK HOME.
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Freshman orientation seems less like an orientation and more like a social gathering.  
You’re not really sure why you didn’t think of that. This one is being held by seniors in your department, so you figured they’d talk to you about things like majors or clubs or general campus life.  
The presence of alcohol and cigarettes after only thirty minutes is what alerts you of your doom. You’re screwed.  
For many reasons and in many ways.  
For starters, you’re all the way out in Hokkaido, which is a 19 hour trip from your hometown. You don’t know anyone at school except that one alpha you keep bumping into, and more importantly - you wouldn’t know of any good ways to excuse yourself to leave. You don’t even know where to go if you did.   
Secondly, you’re really not interested in drinking again. At least, not for now. The memory of Bachira is strangely fresh despite it being over a year since, and you’re afraid a drop of alcohol is going to make you spiral out and humiliate yourself in front of your peers.  
Third, most of the people here seem at least somewhat acquainted with each other. From the introductions at the start, there’s only one other freshman here and he’s already friends with a bunch of people. On top of that, he’s the rowdy alpha type you have a hard time with so you’re not sure what you’re supposed to do other thank stick to the wall and hope for the best.  
You text Miki-chan as you sit in the corner. Were you always this poor at socializing?  
After a few minutes, someone comes and plops themselves next to you. You’re mildly startled by her presence, jumping in your skin. She smells sweet,  a mix of overripe mango and something floral. You startle as she crowds in your space, eyes widening.  
“You’re the new freshie, right?”  
You blink at her then nod. She’s extremely pretty and not entirely Japanese which is common for this campus. “Uh, yes. Nice to meet you…”  
“Hira,” She says easily  
“Nice to meet you, Hira-senpai.” You bow.  
“Oh, how formal! Sure, call me that if you want.” She moves in even closer. You feel your heartbeat skyrocket and feel thankful you’re wearing a scent patch. “You looked a little lonesome in the corner, so I thought I’d come save you. First party like this?”  
You’re surprised. “Is it obvious?”  
“Mm, not really. But I can tell at least. I’m good at reading people. And I was interested in you,” 
You stare at her as she leans against the wall. Long lashes, dyed hair, full lips and a scent so intoxicating you could drown. You feel flush just looking at her, attracted to her undeniably. The look she’s giving you is making you a little delirious.  
Your eyes go wide. “Sorry?”  
She beams but doesn’t repeat herself. “Are you a beta?”  
“An omega,”  
You feel her nose brush against your covered scent glands and feel a jolt up your spine. “Oh, you are. You smell good.” 
You blink slowly, hesitating. “Thanks.” 
“Which way do you swing, then?”  
Is she… hitting on you? Then again, she could just be the touchy type like Bachira.  
“I prefer omegas. I’ve never dated an alpha seriously.” But I was in love with at least one.  
Her eyes light up. “So you swing both ways, or at least you like omegas. Good. My radars rarely wrong. Ever been in a relationship with anyone?”  
“Just for a few months in highschool.” You admit.  
“Right. Got any experience then?”  
She’s…  
“Uh, not really no. Kissed and stuff but that’s about it.”  
“Eighteen, no experience, and into other omegas…that tracks. You’re not having much fun at this party, either. So, how about…” You feel her hand on your thigh and nearly choke on air. “We change all of that in one go?”  
You feel a little guilty. You’re not sure what you should be doing. You never really thought about losing your virginity when you were in school for obvious reasons, and thought of it even less so when you were with Bachira. It’s not like it’s of incredible importance to you. Is it something you should let go of easily? Does it matter?  
On the other hand, are you ever going to have a beautiful omega girl older than you offer to take your virginity and it not be an illusion? You’re not really sure if it’s possible. And you’re a lot of things, but you’re not a eunuch. Some part of you hopes it’ll get your mind off of Bachira.  
“I really don’t know what I’m doing, just as uh. As a prerequisite.” You say stiffly.  
“Are you a quick learner?”  
Your breath hitches. “Yeah,”  
“Then you’ll be just fine! Sooo… wanna get out of here?”  
Shit. “Uh, y-yeah.”  
“Great!”  
She grabs your hand, hauling you up and dragging you along with her. Some of the seniors in your department shoot you a look like they’re impressed and you’re not sure if you should be mortified or flattered. “Taking the freshie with me.”She turns to someone who’s name you don’t remember. “Don’t wait up! And don’t come home either.”  
Said friend sighs. On the way out, you hear them ask around about sleeping over and feel a little guilty.  
__  
She tells you about herself on the way to her place. A short walk from campus, you spend most of it wondering if you’re in some kind of dream. Hira-senpai is mixed but she’s grown up in Sapporo for most of her life.  
Half-north indian and half-japanese. Tan skin, brown eyes, and long hair - something about her looks straight out of a dream. She holds your hand on the way to her apartment and talks to you so casually it makes you feel like friends. She’s good at conversation in a way that’s familiar to you, reminds you a lot of Bachira no matter how much you hate making the comparison.  
Most of all, she’s an incredibly attractive distraction. She’s just a touch taller than you but she’s got long legs and nice assets, with curves in all the right places. She’s toned too. She dresses nice and smells so good. Has all the flair of an omega that makes your heart race.  
Once you get up to her apartment, she wastes no time in getting you into her bedroom.  
Kissing someone with the intention of having sex is different than whatever you were doing in highschool. Hira is well practiced in how she touches you, strips you naked, admires you. 
She’s aggressive with you but you don’t mind. You end up in her bed faster than you thought you’d be. She kisses with with tongue, teeth nipping at your lips and neck as she whispers to you all sorts of things about likes and dislikes. You learn how to use your mouth and how hard to suck, and smooth your tongue along her scent glands in the ways to turn her on.  
You find you don’t mind touching her. You like making her feel good. She gets wet for you and talks to you sweet. Intoxicating, you let her play with you as she pleases without words of complaint. You make her cum once, then again because you like how she grips onto your hair. Her praise is nice when you make her cum. It feels good when she returns the favor even though you feel embarrassed the entire time.  
You fuck until sunrise and sleep in her bed. When morning comes, you find her wrapped around your with your body covered in unfamiliar nips of teeth. She tells you to stay for breakfast.  
You feel like you walked the stairwell to adulthood a little too quickly. But it’s the longest you spent not thinking about the past 
So you stay with her. You sit up and open your phone.  
(sent 9:34am) just lost my virginty to my omega senpai. uni is weird  
9:35am: You have 24 new notifications.  
__ 
[ NINETEEN ] 
“Do you wanna become club manager?”  
You shoot a surprised glance at Satou-kun, one of your only alpha friends on campus and captain of your university soccer team. You’re currently in the club room, reviewing footage of their opposing team before they start training for the inter-collegiate tournaments.  
This is a favor you’re doing for Satou-kun as a part of him helping you find board and housing all the way out here. Your current university had been your last choice despite being incredibly prestigious as a result of extra-curricular and exceptionally good marks for years of highschool.  
 You were supposed to be staying in a dorm room but there was some trouble in the office and no space left in the omega-beta dorms for you to stay at.  
You met Satou-kun crying outside of the 7/11 near your campus, dropped down to your knees in pre-heat distress. Satou is from the countryside. A big, lumbering 6’4 alpha who apparently can’t leave people alone in times of need, especially not crying omegas. He bought you a meal and helped you find room and board temporarily before later finding you an apartment near campus.  
In short, you owe him a lot. Insistent on paying him back, you’ve spent a lot of time helping out their soccer team doing this and that. Once, off-handedly during their practice, you’d helped one of their other team mates out with their dribbling and have since then become a psuedo-member.  
You don’t really have any interest in soccer. Or at least, you didn’t for the first eighteen years of your life. Maybe it’s because you’re so far from home, but there’s something about seeing them play that feels familiar and fulfills an old itch.  
Still, you’re not really expecting the offer. You’ve only known Satou-kun for a few months and you’ve known his team for even less.  
“Uh. I’ve never been a sports team manager, so I don’t know if I’d be any good.”  
“Seriously?” He sits next to you in a chair backwards, pushing his hair back with his hand. “You know a lot about soccer though?”  
You swallow. “A friend—sorry, an old friend of mine plays. My nii-san did too but that was way back. I’ve just been around it a lot.” 
He gives you a long look, brushing past the very obvious shake in your voice. You like that part of him, you think. “I think it’s fine. The team likes you. You’re meticulous and do well under pressure.” He takes a drink from his water bottle. “Plus I think the guys would be more motivated with a pretty omega manager. At least they’d wanna impress you.”  
You blink. He says it so neutrally you almost don’t catch it.  
“Thanks?”  
“Don’t worry about it. It’s just an observation,” Satou says, shaking his head. “I think you’d be an asset to the team. There’s no one else who can mediate with coach like you can.”  
Your lips twitch in the ghost of a smile. “That’s true,”  
Your thoughts end up at Bachira as you consider the offer. Lips furled into a frown, something heavy weighs on your heart. You’ve gotten better at not letting him consume your every waking thought. Being busy has helped. But soccer is the one thing that reminds you of Bachira most. You’re not really opposed to being manager. You just don’t know if it’ll be too much. You’re not enough of a masochistic to say yes without hesitation. The painful, constant reminder of him through being manager just feels overwhelming.  
You haven’t seen him in nearly two years, except on T.V. or in the news, doing exactly what you thought he would. You’ve put so much effort into getting over him but it feels like you’ve hardly made progress.  
You sigh.  
“Can I give you my answer later? After I consider it more?”  
“Sure. If it isn’t too invasive though,” He leans into looking closer. “Can I ask what’s making you hesitate? I’d guess it’s that childhood friend but,”  
You blink in surprise. “Yeah. That obvious?”  
He shakes his head. “Got a nose like a hound, granny always said. Could feel the change even with the strong patches and inhibitors.”  
“Ah,” You look down at your lap. “My friend and I had a pretty bad falling out. Think it was two years ago now, but I’m just worried it’ll bring up bad memories.”  
“You cared about him a lot, huh?”  
You aren’t sure what brings you to say it out loud. “I was in love with him. Basically my whole life.”  
It’s the first time you’ve ever said it to anyone. It doesn’t feel as horrible as you expected.  
“Was he an omega?”  
You give him a humorless smile, shaking your head. “An alpha.”  
He blinks in realization before nodding.  
“Must’ve been someone special then,” Satou scratches the back of his neck. “I can’t tell you I understand it but you know. Maybe being our manager can help give you some better memories than what you left with. With time.”  
“I know it probably sounds ridiculous. Two years is a long time.” You reply back. 
“Huh? Hardly.” Satou looks at you directly when he speaks. “Don’t force yourself to get over it. I know you’re the worrying type, but sometimes it’s fine to just let things go as they are.You have to keep living your life right?”  
“Right,”  
“So don’t think of it in negative terms like getting over it. Do it if it’s something you might want to do. If it gets too much I’ll support you as captain or let you leave. You can make new memories here. It’s an opportunity, that’s all”  
You give Satou-kun a small smile. “Satou-kun…you’re a good guy. You’ll find a good wife.”  
“You sound like granny,” He says. “If you’re ever interested in becoming farmers wife in the country side, you’re always welcome to take the position up.”  
“Are you joking?”  
“No.” He says, standing up. His tone is unreadable. “You’d be good at it. You’re strong with good attention to detail so I think the work would be easy for you. Plus you’re after a quiet life, aren’t you?”  
“This is a bad proposal,” You deadpan, shaking your head. “And most omegas would be pissed if you told them they look good to work on a farm.”  
“It’s a compliment.”  
“This is why you’re not popular.” You retort with a small chuckle. “If I ever decide to marry an alpha and give up on everything, I’ll find you. For now, I’ll have to decline the proposal. But I’ll accept becoming manager.”  
Satou-kun claps your shoulder. “Eh. I’ll take it,” Your eyes meet. “If you change your mind on either thing, just let me know.”  
“Of course. Thanks, captain.”  
“Anytime.”  
__ 
“Are you sure you want this?”  
Hira-senpais roomate, Shinohara, busies himself with sterilizing needles. You glance at yourself in the mirror in their bathroom, red-rimmed eyes making you feel pathetic. You really want something to do.  
Drink, smoke, something. But you’re not trying to start on using substances when thinking of Bachira since you’re sure it’ll kill you. You just need the distraction. The game is still playing in the background in the other room, so when you hear the channel change and feel thankful to whoever shifted it.  
You rub your eyes with the end of your hand, voice hoarse. “Yeah. And I’m gonna get a tattoo.”  
“You’re still this hung up on that kid? Whatever his name was,” He snaps his fingers. “Bee boy.”  
You huff. “Yeah.”  
“Have you tried dating other people?” He suggests.  
Shinohara pours rubbing alcohol onto something before wiping your ear with it on both sides. It’s cold and makes you shiver. “No. Never been interested,”  
“Don’t you think it’s about time you get interested?” He uses a marker next, placing a dot carefully before assessing it. He repeats the process on the other side. “I mean, if just seeing him on T.V. is enough to do this to you after all this time… You barely react to anything, like a damn stone statue. Yet, here you are.”  
“It’s not just that,” You sniffle again. Shinohara-kun gives you a disbelieving look in the mirror, shaking his head. It’s not just the fact you saw Bachira, but that you keep seeing him exceed your expectations. In news magazines, in articles, in ads for sports drinks. What broke you was seeing him on the news after seeing him earlier in a magazine for the greatest talents to come out of Bluelock, with speculation in his potential to become the greatest striker alive.  
You’ve done a good job not thinking about him. You even got used to the press when you went to your hometown and saw him plastered on posters. But it dawns on you he’s still living his dreams and he’s not even twenty yet.  
And you play no part in them. You bite your lip trying not to cry.  
“I’m not piercing you if you keep shaking,” Shinohara says with no real bite. A gloved hand wipes your tear. “So toughen up, brat.”  
“Stop calling me that. You’re only a few years older than me,”  
“Stop acting like one and I’ll consider. Now take a deep breath. It’s gonna hurt pretty bad, alright? If you jolt I’m gonna kill you.”  
“Stop worrying about me.” You sniff, wiping your nose. “I’m fine”  
He rolls his eyes. “Then count to three and take a deep breath.”  
__  
[ TWENTY ] 
“I’m home!”  
Your face is cold from the winter air as you step inside. You shake off the snow from your body as you wipe your face, exhaustion settling in from the long travel. It’s not your first winter break home but even after two years you can’t get used to the distance  
You leave your bag and luggage at the door as you strip out of your jacket, hanging it on a nearby hook. You sigh in relief, mind drifting off to thoughts of sitting in the kotatsu and warming up while you let your brain rot from television. You only have so many days break before you have to travel back to Sapporo. You glance at the shoe rack and notice a single pair of loafers. Your parents are probably grocery shopping. You always have hotpot the day before New Years.  
There’s only one other person that leaves. You raise your voice louder as you call out again.  
“Nii-san, I’m home.”  
“In the living room,”  
You stretch your arms over your head, sweater sliding over your stomach as you walk into the living room to see him spread over the couch watching something on the T.V. Looks like some kind of comedy variety show.  
“Hey,”  
You make a noncommittal noise, beelining to the kotatsu in the center of the room, sliding yourself underneath with a long sigh. Nii-san laughs behind you.  
“Still snowing?” 
“Got worse in the last hour,” You prop your elbows on the table, laying on your arms with a loud yawn. “My bags wet so I left it in front of the door.”  
He hums as the two of you continue to watch T.V. in comfortable silence. You feel his gaze on your back for a while before turning around slightly to look at him. “What are you looking at?”  
“Did you get your ears pierced?”  
You blink. “Yeah. My helix and upper lobe on both sides.”  
He stares at you for a long while after you tell him, leaving you confused. It’s rare you see your brother these days. He’s twenty-nine this year. He’s scruffy, face prickly with hair and hair grown out longer than normal. Eyes squinted, you feel his hand pull at the collar of your sweater before peering down at your back.  
“When did you get a tattoo?” 
Surprised, you pull away from his grasp frowning. “Same time I got my piercings.”  
“What for?” 
“I just wanted to get them,” You say, fidgeting with your. 
“Well, it’s fine.” He says after a while, voice softened. His hand comes up to your head, patting it like you’re a kid again. You squirm away from the touch and sudden affection. You don’t know if you’ll ever properly figure out what’s on his mind. “You’re such a goody two-shoes kid a little rebellion won’t hurt. Kaa-san’s gonna freak over the tattoo though.”  
“I won’t be here long enough for her to find out I don’t think. And even if she does, it’s not like I can get it removed now. It’s usually covered up enough that no one noticed.”  
“I saw it cause of the way you were sitting, so don’t worry about it.” He says, patting your shoulder. “What’s the tattoo of?” 
You frown, turning away with a flush. “…A bumble bee on a kuroyuri flower.”  
“A bee huh? Should kill that stupid brat.”  
“Nii-san!” You shake your head. “I already told you the fight was my fault. Don’t use it as a reason for your grudge, okay?”  
He sighs, shaking his head. “You’re twenty right?”  
You nod. Nii-san grabs a beer from the plastic bag besides him, cracking the top open before handing it to you with a long look. “Here,”  
You take the beer from his hand and take a drink from the top, malt hitting your lips and warming you up from the inside. “…Thanks.”  
“If you’re gonna go out of your way to defend him even now, just text him and make up already,”He says, shaking his head. “The piercings, the tattoo… all that was to get over him, huh?”  
You feel embarrassed. Was it that obvious you were hung up on Bachira this way? He always had a weird sixth sense about things, so maybe not. “It doesn’t matter.”  
He sighs. “It does matter. If you care this much, there’s no way it doesn’t. Don’t be obstinate and figure things out with him.”  
“Even if I could do that,” Which I can’t, ever. “He’s rarely home anyways, and I don’t want to have that conversation on the phone. Plus, he’s probably forgotten all about it.”  
“You’re a smart kid but sometimes you’re so oblivious it makes me feel bad. Was it because you’re sheltered? You have no common sense.”  
“Hey!”  
“I know you’re just being careful but there’s no need to this extent. You two were attached at the hip for almost two decades. There’s no way he’d forget even if he’s a famous soccer player right now. Just make up with him.” He says, then sighs before giving you a serious look. “But seriously don’t marry him. I’ll kill you both.”  
“I told you he likes alphas.”   
“And you like him, despite liking omegas, right?”  
You make a noise of indignance “That’s different,”  
“It’s not. I don’t care about him but don’t be a coward. You’re a lot tougher than that as is and it doesn’t suit you at all.”  
You turn your eyes to the T.V. pretending to watch it while deep in thought.  
You don’t know. It’s been three years since you and Bachira stopped being friends but the wound doesn’t feel any more healed than it did last time. There are longer stretches of time in between that you can without feeling like the world is collapsing underneath you, but you’re not over it despite your best efforts. Maybe it’s true you haven’t truly tried hard enogh. Your last conversation was messy at best, a rushed outro to a life long friendship without any real closure.  
But you don’t think you’re owed closure. What’s more, you don’t even know what you’d say. There’s both so much and so little you want to tell him.  
I’m proud of you. I’m sorry. Who takes care of you now that I’m gone? Do you miss me as much as I miss you? 
But how do you have that conversation? You’ve never been good at being upfront with your feelings. You keep to yourself, keep your head down, and get lucky to be around people who do it for you.  
Even if you were to get closure now, could you handle it? You were never under the impression Bachira could love you, but at least now you can be open about it. At least now, you can tell people when they ask you about love and confess it like some sort of sin. The first time you told Satou-kun that truth, it felt like a weight had finally been unburdened. To become friends again now would mean you bear that silence of that again while you try to fall out of love, or you confess to it him and make things hard on you both.  
You don’t want either outcome. You just want Bachira to be your friend. And you want things to be easy. You’re not seventeen anymore.  You have school, work, clubs - things that you still need to be present for.  
You can’t handle the heartbreak of that loss twice. It’d kill you.  
Maybe, someday, when you’re really over it - you’ll reach out to Bachira as friends. Another two years so it’s been at least five, and you’re closer to graduation than you are to highschool.  
For now though, the idea of seeing Bachira again is painful at best and stupid at worst.  
“I need more time,” You reply after a while. “To get over it more. I don’t want to meet him when I’m still this… emotional about it.”  
Nii-san sighs, over you. “Fine. If you say so. Drink your little heart out over it but when the time comes, dont’ miss your chance alright? Promise me.”  
“I thought you didn’t like him.” 
“You little—just promise.”  
“Fine, fine,” You fall forward again on your kotatsu - waving a dismissive hand. “Promise.”  
__  
“I can’t believe my favorite heat partner went and got a boyfriend on me,” 
Hira-senpai slides herself across from you in the booth in front of you. You glance up from your laptop just barely too greet her as Shinohara joins the both of you. Shaking your head, you take stock of your surroundings quickly. The cafeteria at the bottom floor of the  mathematics building is still just as empty as it was when you came in.  
“Where did you two just back from?”  
“A seminar thing for senior capstone.” Shinohara answers. You make a short ahhh sound before continuing on with your typing.  
“Don’t just ignore me, both of you!” Hira insists. Your lips quirk up at the corners.  
“Stop announcing that we have sex so loudly and I’ll consider it.”  
“Fine, fine. I just can’t believe you got confessed too and you said yes! And you only told me through text!!”  
“What was I supposed to do? You weren’t even on campus so I couldn’t tell you in person.”  
She pouts, dipping a fry into ketchup as she props her elbows up on the table.  
“Whatever. I want details!”  
“It was that huge omega guy on the soccer team, right? What was his name again…?”  
You furrow your brow. “How do you know that?”  
“I know everything.” He says seriously. You roll your eyes.  
“Yeah it was. Takahashi-kun. He confessed to me as soon as I got back from visiting home over winter break in the club room. Gave me flowers and everything.”  
“Flowers? What a serious guy. Are all the soccer club guys like that?”  
You grimace. “I think all soccer players are predispositioned to have something just a little wrong with them. Him being chivalrous is fine, all things considered.” 
“Hm. True.”  
“Sooo, did you just say yes right away? That’s super unlike you!” 
“Huh? No, of course not. I told him upfront that I’m still getting over someone so I don’t know if it’s a good idea,” You say, typing away at your computer. “But he said he didn’t care and wanted to date me anyways.”  
“What a weird guy.” Shinohara hums thoughtfully.  
“He’s that into you?!”  
You nod. “I guess so. I asked why it had to be me and he said something I didn’t catch. Just that he thought I’d be a good partner and accept an omega like him. Which I guess is true.”  
Shinohara chuckles. “You sound so enthused.”  
You shrug. “It’s not like I lied. He’s a good guy, I know that. And I mean. Not like I have anything to lose. You guys are the ones telling me to try and move on.”  
They both say “True,” at the same time, making you shake your head.  
“So you’re gonna date him seriously?”  
“I’m gonna try,” You reply with a long sigh. “I really just want to move on.”  
__ 
You date Takahashi-kun for a year.  
It’s a good year, and a good relationship.  
He’s good to you in all ways that matter. He still believes in old timey traditional of courting and courts you like an omega might an alpha despite you not being one. Brings you food he’s made and other handmade ornaments. He’s taller than most omega men. A little over six feet and muscular with a sharp jaw but the roundest, brownest eyes you’ve ever seen. 
Often, he asks you if you’re fine with him. Comes into your arms and weeps into your neck, scent sweet like fresh cream as he apologizes for not being cute. Takahashi is more omega than you are. Shows submission and pleasure in the textbook ways you see only in books and pornography. He’s kind and doe-eyed and timid. He’s easy to talk to. He’s attractive. Sharing heat together always feels pleasurable and warm. 
Alphas like him. Mostly alpha women. And you like Takahashi too, while you date him. He’s tender and thoughtful - easy to read and easy to treat well. The relationship is never something worthy of complaint.  
Which is why you break up with him before you leave for winter break the next year.  You explain it  all to him and feel incredibly disheartened when he cries. Takahashi is the poster image for what makes a good omega. And because he is so good, so kind, so caring - it’s unfair to continue to be with him when you know you can’t grow to love him the way he loves you. 
If a year in your ideal theoretical relationship can’t be enough to cauterize the wound of your heartbreak, there’s probably nothing else that will except time. Even hysterical, you relay all of this to Takahashi as best you can. You don’t regret being with him, because he’s taught you plenty of things. 
It’s because he’s taught you so much that you’re able to break up with him at all instead of remaining comfortable and impassive. Because you know the depth of another persons unconditional love and because you also grow to love Takahashi. You love him in a different way than he loves you, and you leave because it’s unfair. It’s the first year of your life that has felt long and meaningful since you and Bachira parted ways four years prior.  
So you split with him, and tell him everything on your mind. And because Takahashi is a good person who loves you unconditionally - it hurts you both, even though he accepts. He asks that if someday, you think you might change your mind to call him. He asks to be friends.  
You promise to him both, and then tell him again that you hope someone better will be there for him and that you love him even if it’s not like that.  
The day you break up with Takahashi, you have to take a train ride three hours long to get to the airport where you’ll board a short flight, then make the hours long venture back to your hometown.  
You’re fine for the duration. You don’t cry often anyway. It’s fine until your phone buzzes with the notification that F.C. Barcha has won a tournament match and will proceed to the next World Cup Qualifiers.  
And then, like clockwork, you sob into your hands on an empty train - heart so full of longing you could nearly throw up.  
You think, breaking up with Takahashi-kun was the right choice.  
You think, I miss him.  
You heart doesn’t name who exactly you miss. That name is written all over it anyways.   
__  
[ TWENTY-ONE ] 
For the first few days of your winter break, none of your family is in your house for you to hang around.  
This is something you’ve always been used to. Your parents have been on a trip in Kyoto and won’t be back until after new years and nii-san is working a lot of overtime until about the same. You have a copy of your house keys so you have a place to stay, and you’ve made some shrine plans with Miki and Sasaki since you’re back home.  
They’re both still busy until the thirtieth though, so until then you have nothing to do.  
Today is the twenty-sixth, the day after Christmas. You’re home early since all of your classes finals lined up in the short-span of three days. It was stressful but you’re thankful for the extended few days that allowed you to go home early.  
Yu-san has insisted you spend some time with her instead of being by yourself. You always spend a day or two at her house during your winter breaks and have since you left for college. After your eighteenth birthday, it just felt like the right thing to do.  
You bring her something every year when you visit, and sometimes you stay over night. She treats you like her own, and fills you in about Bachira from time to time.  
In honor of upholding tradition, you decide to go see her a little early this year. Before you enter the familiar and cramped space of Yu-sans apartment - you always buy her a nice bouquet of flowers, a box of sweets, and an expensive bottle of sake. You have a gift for her too, some souvenirs from Hokkaido like always.  
You stop by your house first to drop off your things and lock up before walking the short distance to your childhood friends home in the winter air.  
You’ve been too often to knock after all, instead opting to text Yu-san and let her know that you’re there. You wait outside until she responds, giving you the go-ahead. 
yu oba-san (sent 9:57pm): the door is open but i had to step out for  a bit. make yourself comfortable.  
You gather your things up in one hand and tucking the flowers carefully in your arms to open the door. Your bag of gifts and drinks lands on the floor with a soft clunk as you set it down besides you, balancing flowers on the small cabinet near the entryway. Sliding your jacket off your shoulders and hanging it, you force your feet out of your winter boots, eyes searching around for the right pair of slippers.  
When you go to put your boots up on the shoe rack, you notice that there’s an unfamiliar pair of sneakers. You notice it too late. Mens sneakers. 
 A faint scent of burnt honey.  
You shake your head trying to shake the thoughts away. The likelihood of it being Bachira is so slim you wonder why you’re considering. The match for F.C. Barcha took place in Spain. It takes a day of travel to get to Japan, so you guess it’s possible. Even so, you think it’d be more likely he comes during New Years. It’s not guaranteed he’ll have enough time to even come home every year. He did two years back from what you know but not since then.  
You gather your things again. First the small bag you keep your personal stuff in, then the bags you’ve brought for Yu-san, and finally the flowers in your arm.  
You decide against announcing yourself since you suspect you’re the only there. 
Except you’re not.  
The whole world feels like it’s collapsing underneath your feet to see Bachira in flesh, tucked into the couch of his childhood home the same way he used to when you were kids - with both legs folded up and his chin resting on his knee.  
A shock of yellow hair, eyes gemstone gold and a stronger scent. Bachira. Meguru. 
You startle and think of what to do. What excuse you can make. How you can tiptoe your way out of the room and catch the breath that he steals away from your lungs.  
No such luck. Bachira is perceptive as always, noticing you before you get a chance to slip away.  
“Oh,” He murmurs. He’s taller. Just a bit, you think. “It’s you,”  
Your heart is thudding, blood rushing to your ears and face as you stare at him. You can barely feel your legs, weakness in your knees nearly making you buckle. Frozen stiff in place, you blink once, twice before nodding. You force yourself to swallow the lump in your throat.   
“Uhm,” You don’t know what to do. “Yeah. I came to visit Yu-san.”  
He nods back.  
“She told me I should come over as soon as I can.” Bachira says. He feels unfamiliar. His hair is longer, but styled up and his ear lobes are pierced. He looks so much older yet so much the same. “My team mate dropped me off with his jet so I made it in a day.”  
Ah. Was it planned? She’s like your nii-san in how much she wants you two to reconcile. “Makes sense.” You flounder. Awkward silence falls so you try to come up with anything to say. Your hands are sweaty. “ Uh..Congratulations on your win, by the way.”  
He looks surprised. “Do you keep up with soccer these days?”  
Just for you. “A bit. Out of habit, I guess. And I’m the soccer teams manager at uni.”  
Surprised, he blinks in silence for a while.  
 “Oh. Well,” Suddenly, he beams. It’s no doubt forced and it breaks you into a thousand pieces though you try not to let it show on your face. Try not to let the omega part of you whimpering for approval too obvious. He smiles at you “Don’t be a stranger on my behalf! You should put your stuff down and sit. We should uhm..catch up!”  
You make a face at him that you know is pained, but nod anyways. The tension in the air is so thick as you slide to the other side of the room, putting the flowers and other gifts on the kitchen counter.   
Four years. Four years. How are you supposed to act?  
“Uh,” You call from the kitchen, hoping the nerves in your voice aren’t obvious. “Do you uhm, maybe want something to drink? I brought alcohol and I think there’s beers in your fridge.”’ 
Your eyes meet from the living room to where you stand behind the counter. He shrugs, giving you a lighthearted smile.  
“Mm. My nutritionist might get pissed but whatever! Why not you know? A beer would be good, thanks!” 
You nod and try to do the same - keeping the conversation as light as you can. You repeat that it’s fine like a mantra.  
“Is beer not too bitter for you? I bought chuhai cans. There’s a pineapple flavor,”  
The question is innocent enough to you, but you realize seconds later the intimacy of it. Four years or not, you were Bachira’s friend your entire life so it’d be weirder not to know and even weirder not to at least ask. It’s an extension of courtesy no matter how unnecessary, and plus - you’re known for being a little too obsessed with the details.  Bachira prefers sweet things and likes canned pineapple. You’re sure you picked it up out of habit.  
When you look up at Bachira, he looks nearly ready to cry. It startles you so much you jolt out of your skin. He turns away. “Haha…You remembered,”  
A pang of concern makes leaves you standing in place. There’s no way you would’ve forgotten. “Oh uhm. Sorry. Is that weird for you?” You explain, trying not to overstep any boundaries. “If me being too familiar is making you uncomfortable then—“  
“It’s not that,” He insists seriously. “I was trying to keep it together but I can’t after that,” He lets out a loud sob suddenly. Your eyes widen. Several waves of emotion pass over you at the same time. “I missed you…hicc, why would you remember that…sniff,”  
You soften, shoulder slumped with endured longing.  
“I missed you too,” 
“Liar,” He hiccups again, crying in full hysterics this time. You shuffle back to the living room to join him on the opposite side of the couch, placing the bag of drinks on the coffee table and reaching a hand over to squeeze his knee. “You haven’t talked to me in four years. You didn’t miss me at all but you remember something so dumb. You’re always like that. You’re so….”  
You frown. Does he really think you didn’t miss him?  
“It wasn’t like that,”  
“Then explain it to me now! Hasn’t it been long enough…dont you…!” He exclaims, pulling his hands from his face. You can’t contain your surprise about the reaction though you understand it completely. You feel similar. You’ve convinced yourself the entire time that any relationship you had with each other was completely one-sided. Assuming he would move on fine without you now that there were people in his life he could call friends. Still, it’s so unusual to see evidence of it not being true. “You never explained anything to me you just..” He sniffs “Left me. I thought you didn’t care anymore but…”  
His display of genuine sadness makes you feel horrible.  
You press your lips together in a thin line, reaching into the bag for a tall can of beer and cracking it open before having a drink so it numbs your nerves.  
Your stomach is twisted up in a knot so tight you kind of feel sick. There’s no way around the conversation now. You can’t bear to see him cry so much, so you should at least clear up the understanding. 
 Leaned forward, elbows on knees - you keep your eyes focused in front of you, keenly aware of Bachira adjacent to you on the couch wiping his eyes.  
“It wasn’t that I didn’t miss you, I just uh,” You swallow a lump in your throat until it smooths out. “I just have stuff I want to get over before we could be proper friends again. I wanted to reach out to you a lot. It wasn’t like I stopped caring about you after we fought,”  
“You hated me for lying to you and being an alpha right? Wasn’t that what you had to get over in the first place?”  
Your eyes go wide. “No, uh. It’s complicated. I didn’t uhm, hate you for lying about it. I was shocked sure but you are—were my best friend. I did distrust alphas for a long time and I still don’t really like them… but it didn’t matter to me. I told you then too but I didn’t hate you it was just,”  
You chuckle nervously, running your thumb on the rim of the can. “It felt wrong to keep being your friend. Not knowing something so basic. The fact you felt like you couldn’t tell me. It was more like I was too ashamed to keep calling you my best friend.  
“You… Really?”  
You nod. “And uh, I didn’t want to reach out to you again until i got over some personal stuff.”  
“You big dummy,” He wipes his nose with the back of his sleeve. “It wasn’t like that at all…. Even back then, I knew you wouldn’t have hated me just for being an alpha,” He hiccups another sob. “I was just so scared you would that I didn’t want to tell you. I thought you would start treating me different and we’d stop being close if you found out I wasn’t an omega. You’re such a good person, how come you think of yourself like that? Why do you think…hicc”  
“Sorry,” You mumble, unsure of what to say.  
It feels like a great weight has been lifted up off your chest.  
“Stop apologizing, dummy. Stupid.”  
You give him a wobbly smile.  
“What did you have to get over that you couldn’t talk to me for four years?” He huffs. “If it wasn’t me being an alpha, what was it?”  
Your eyes widen, heart rate picking up so rapidly you can only pray he doesn’t hear it. You swallow spit, teeth sinking into your cheek. You close your eyes and take a deep breath.  
You’ve thought about this conversation before hundreds of times. Often. How it would go, what you would say if you ever got the chance to say it. But having the opportunity to confess right in front you makes it all feel hundreds of miles away. 
Your mind has filled in the details each time with it going so badly. Bachira’s face, disgusted with you or otherwise unsettled always sears itself in your psyche so strong you  bite your tongue. You always found him a little unsettled by you in you thoughts. Disgusted with you for liking him so much even knowing he’s not into omegas. You don’t want your own cowardice or misunderstanding to get in the way of being honest with him after so long. 
You would’ve waited two more years to even speak to him had you been given a choice. But now with him in front of you, how could you possibly do that? It’s the universes way of ripping the band-aid off, you think. Such a tricky outcome can only being ordained by faith.  
“Well, I uhm, I was—am, in love with with you. Since we were kids so uhm, after we split ways I couldn’t really apologize. I w-wanted to get along with you again for a long time but I couldn’t…” You shake your head, refusing to see his expression. Terrified that what you’ll see is disappointment. “I wanted to sort my feelings out first so I could approach you honestly, I guess. I k-know you like alphas, so I’m not expecting anything really! I just wanted t-to ease the burden on myself a bit instead of hiding.”  
There’s a long, long stretch of silence. It feels like forever.  
“You’re in love with me? But you like omegas don’t you?”  
“Not exclusively I guess? I h-haven’t figured it out yet. I’ve never been with another alpha but my feelings for you are real. I know it’s burdensome to hear that but—”  
“It’s not burdensome,” He cuts you off instantly. Your eyes widen slightly. His expression has completely changed. “Are you being serious? You’re in love with me? Since we were kids? Even after finding out I’m an alpha?”  
You nod slowly. “Yeah. That was also part of the reason. Learning you were an alpha brought up questions. Uhm. Anyways. It’s been four years and I still can’t get over it so I didn’t want to put myself through that again. I hope it’ll make you believe that I don’t hate you at least,” 
“You still love me, then.” He says softly. “Right?”  
You flush, wondering why he’s asking. “Yeah. Same as always.”  
He covers his face with his hands, suddenly grinning. Your eyes grow wide at that openly. “Aaaah!! I’m so happy I could die right now.”  
“Bachira?”  
“You big dummy. You should’ve told me before. How come you’re the only one in the entire world who didn’t know?” 
“S-sorry?”  
For the first time in this entire conversation, you let yourself look at Bachira who’s positively beaming at you. You blink rapidly, feeling suddenly deeply unsure of yourself and your surroundings.  
“I love you too, stupid,” He says, sniffling. “Since we were practically babies.” He sniffles again, more tears streaming down his face. “Uwah, I can’t stop crying, I’m so happy.”  
“But you…don’t you also like…?”  
“Alphas? Yeah I do,” Bachira hums happily. “I’ve never been with an omega. And I’m not really that interested in them, either. I’m clingy you know? And selfish. You were the exception. My one and only omega.”  
You cover your face with your hands. 
“What’s wrong?” Bachira asks.  
You laugh. “I’m so happy I think I could die.” You mimic. Tears wet your lashes with unusual swiftness. “I never thought in a million years you would ever like me back. It wasn’t even a possibility for me.”  
It feels completely surreal. You want to pinch yourself. If it’s a dream, you want to thank whatever power is responsible for making it such a pleasant one and you never want to wake up from it. He…Bachira loves you. The way you love him. It feels so impossible. Your mind can’t catch up, leaving you slack jawed.  
“Me too,” He hums lovingly. “Ahh, I don’t know if I should cry or shout.”  
“You’ll disturb the neighbors.”  
His grin is crooked. “Then you should do something to keep me quiet,”  
Your face grows hot at the sudden implication. You’re not a virgin but the idea is immediately too stimulating for you to act normally. “What’s with that…”  
“You’re acting like you’ve never kissed anyone before.” He teases. You shoot him a sharp look.  
Your eyes go down at your lap. “Don’t tease me. I want too, I just don’t know if I can,”  
You feel Bachira move over to you. He sits himself besides you on the couch, tucking himself against your side and moving himself to look at your face where you’re ducked down. You can feel the tingling in your skin at the proximity. Overbearing alpha scent that feels like a tight hug only because it’s Bachira.   
“How can I not tease you when you’re being so cute, hm?” He hums. He’s so close to you. “You normally don’t react to anything but then you behave timid like this. It’s so cute. Don’t act shy and kiss me already. Or at least let me kiss you,”  
“Bachira…” You murmur, trying not to explode.  
“Ehhh?? That’s not my name.”  
You laugh a little, picking your head up. “Meguru,”  
“Better!”  
You laugh again, helplessly happy. There’s no word in any language tantamount to what you feel - this much you’re sure of. Embarrassment doesn’t subside quickly but seeing Bachira in front of you makes you happy enough to try look forward. He looks older, somehow. His smile is familiarly boyish, sharpened teeth and piercing eyes even stronger than before.  
Pointed, predatory - lidded eyes meet yours. “Let me kiss you.”  
You nod, unable to form words to say yes but wanting it so terribly.  
The second kiss you ever share with Bachira in your life is exactly like him. Overwhelming. A hard press of lips followed by his tongue sliding across the soft seam of your mouth, coaxing you open until he can slip his tongue in. Immediately salacious and hot, the kind of kiss you can only have in total privacy. The intentions of it are obvious. Your body singes at the feeling, immediately burdened with the weight of life-longing wantings as you kiss him. Deep and melty, your hands reaching for his waist body urging you to pull him closer.  
You feel something tingling at the base of your spine as Bachira slides his tongue against yours hotly. Wet muscle tracing your mouth, drawing lines over every inch like he’s trying to devour you whole from the inside.  
The scent of him drives you insane. He’s so close. It’s suffocating - rich, homey burnt honey and amber with something spiced clouding your mind as you breathe him through hot panting breaths and kisses and kisses. Wetness grows between your legs, the skin under your clothes starting to itch.  
You’ve had years now to understand your heat. You know exactly when it’s coming, when it starts and how it feels. You’re not due for another few weeks but you know what your body is experiencing like the back of your hand. Bachira won’t stop kissing you long enough to let you warn him, tongue busy lapping at your lips. He swallows the little noises you make. You put your hands on his shoulders as you push him away, chest heaving through unbearably labored breaths.  
A whimper in your subconscious - animal in nature, whines at you indignant. Inner omega burdened with desire and overwhelmingly craving the alpha so readily available. Estrus symptoms rush you strongly as your eyes droop, pressing your legs together hard so no slick makes a mess on the couch.  
“Meguru,” You breathe out, barely. “My heat.”  
“Was it soon?”  
You shake your head. “I t-think you triggered it,” You huff, keeping your hand on his shoulder and wincing at the way your body keens.  
His eyes fill with excitement. “Are you saying you wanted me so bad I made your heat come early?”  
“Don’t say it so..haah… blatantly.” 
He shivers, scent and pheromones releasing even stronger than before. You gasp, nails digging into his shoulder as he overwhelms you. He leans in close to you, teeth nipping at your jaw - fangs dragging feather light on your scent glands.  
“It doesn’t seem like you want to stop you know?” He murmurs the words against your neck, eliciting a low whine.  
“Yu-san is supposed to be coming back.”  
“She won’t for a while. It’s already this late, I bet she’s doing something else,” 
“You don’t know that though,” You reason. He hums happily, nonplussed about all of it.  
“Are you worried she’ll walk in? I can always fuck you upstairs. In my old room. She won’t catch us if you’re quiet,” His voice has a rasp to you you’ve never heard before. It’s usually smooth and upbeat, but there’s grit to it now that has you buckling at the knees. “I’m your alpha right? I should take care of you.” 
“Who said you were my…?”  
He gives you a serious look before you can get the rest of the words out. “Do you really think I’d let you be with somebody other than me now that I know? Don’t you think that’s silly?”  
The predatory hunger in his gaze makes your breath catch. A gazelle in the maw of a lion, you wonder if all prey animals tremble violently when they at risk of being eaten. There’s such a thing as survival instinct, but there are abnormalities and exceptions. Bachira bears his fangs you, a blatant claim of his possession - teeth nearly drawing blood on the thin skin of your neck and you think to yourself you want him to eat you. To split you apart and lick you up down to bone, until your vision clouds with nothing but the sight of his hunger.  
You want it so much you gasp, a bolt of lightning crackling through each of your veins. You shake your head obedient to your own want.  
“My alpha,” You try the words out, heaven on your tongue. A claim. “My Meguru,”  
“Yours forever. Always yours,” He hums, contented with the show of submission. “Oh, baby. I’ll take such good care of you know? Knot you nice and pretty. You’ll like I promise. Even alphas like taking my knot,” His hand slides under neath your sweater, slides just between the edge of your stockings and your bare skin. “But you’re an omega—my omega, and you’re perfect so you’ll love it won’t you?”  
You feel drunk on the euphoria. Lust, lovesickness, lenience, all of them make you want to melt entirely. It’s so unlike you. During other heats with other people, you always managed to anchor yourself somehow. You want to blame it on your biology.  
You’re  hardwired to want this in some ways.  
But now you’re old enough to know there’s more to it. More to why his touch is safe. What’s etched into your bones is Bachira’s name only. Only him. His knot, his alpha instinct, his fangs - they’re what transforms you into something beyond yourself. You want the alpha in Bachira, want him to sink his teeth into softness you’ve always kept inside of him only.  
“Want you,” You confess between bitten lips “Meguru, want you so bad,” 
 Nothing in your life has ever been so true. No words you’ve spoken have bore as much weight as that admittance. Bachira licks onto your mouth without subtlety, fangs sinking into the plush of your bottom lip with lustblown out in eyes.  
“Come on, then baby.” He tempts. “Let me give you whatever you want, mmkay?”  
Your agreement comes out more like a whine than a firm yes. Bachira laces his fingers together with yours in the way he used to when you were kids walking across the road. You can barely feel your legs as you hurry up the stairs, worn but loved photos of childhood life and home. There’s pinned up medals and photos and each step you climb makes your heart race a little faster.  
It dawns on you too late that Bachira is the love of your life. Your omega pines for it, longs for the intimacy of it. Alpha, alpha, alpha - Meguru. A hymn etched into your heart.  
He tugs you into his room and locks it quick, groping desperately for the lights before pinning you up against the door in one swift motion. You feel your back against the wood as his hands move all over you. He squeezes the soft curve of your hips, nails dragging light against your stockings as he hitches your leg up kissing you more. Sloppier, messier - breathlessly chasing your lips and never pulling away. Always running after you when you stop to breathe like he’s destined to be your only source of oxygen. You claw at him, your eyes fluttering shut, rolling your up against him as slick wets the inside of your tights.  
It’s embarrassing how wet you really are. It’s never been so bad So blatant. He laughs a little, the hard press of his cock against your core making you sputter. Giggly as he feels it, hand squeezing your knee tight where he holds you up.  
“So wet,”  He murmurs against your mouth. “You’re so wet baby. It’s making a mess you know? You’re not usually this messy are you? You’re not one for bad manners.”  
You whine against his lips. “Don’t make fun of me.”  
“Stupid. I’m praising you,” He replies. “Praising your perfect pussy the way it deserves. Always giving so much to me. Don’t you think it’s mean if I don’t give back just a little?”  
“Touch me,” You beg slowly losing your sense of shame. “Knot me. Fuck me. Wanna bond with you.” You sniffle, overwhelmed as you plant your face against his neck “Wanna be with you forever,”  
A low growl slips from his throat, makes you so weak you could break with the slightest touch. “Don’t say that lightly.”  
You claw at your sobriety. Overtaken with emotions or not, the desire to bonded—mated isn’t a suggestion from thin air. You want proof of him in your life forever, the shape of his teeth in your neck. It’s been so fucking long. You’ve pined for him for nearly your entire life. Clutching onto him is the only thing you can think to do.  
Pulling away, you search desperately for your reflection in his eyes, trying to show your utter sincerity.   
“I’m not,” You say with as much conviction as you can. Embarrassment makes your face hot. “I know I’m in heat but I…” Your lip trembles. “I’ve thought about it. I won’t regret. aI want you so much, Meguru. Bond with me.”  
He whines. “You’re so unfair. You can’t just say that and expect me to be fine. You don’t know how bad I want it. Want you. For so long.”  
“You have me,” You whisper, trying not to look away. “It’s hard for me to say stuff like that, alright? So if you get it bond with me.”  
“You’re so fucking cute.” He praises. “Of course I will. How can I say no when you ask me like that? So pretty, so,” He takes a deep breath. “So sweet. So perfect.”  
Your lungs expand with a breath. “Meguru,”  
“Wore something so cute only to get it all messy,” He hums. His hands pulling up on your sweater. “Who got this for you?”  
“Uni friends,” You mumble, heart picking up speed. Bachira draws the long sweater up on your form, sliding it up over your ass and waist. It’s shaded enough that the large wet spot isn’t obvious. His hands grip your ass, moan slipping from his mouth in appreciation for the touch. “T-they told me it’s in style.”  
He tugs the sweater off of your body and tosses it somewhere on the floor, leaving you mostly naked aside from your underwear. You paw at his shirt making he laughs warmly.  
“Wanna get me naked so bad?”  
Yes. You feel ashamed thinking about how much you wanna feel his skin. Bachira is all sinewy muscle under his clothes. He’s grown a little over the last four years, even though you used to be the same height. It’s a touch of it everywhere, broader shoulders and deeper musculature, a physique carved from so much training. The muscles of his torso make you swallow thickly, the promise of dark hair trailing from his stomach at the top of his pants.  
“You’re staring so much. I’ll get embarrassed.”  
You find your hands smoothing up his chest and feel aroused about how good it looks. Weird gratitude settles over you seeing your manicured nails on Bachira’s strong chest. Too pretty for an alpha, but sharp enough that you believe it. The thought of the two of you together sends you reeling with thoughts. You’ve always wanted it. Always wanted him.  
He only lets you admire him for so long. His hands go around to your back, unclasping your bra in one go. You let him take it off you - self-conscious in how he zeros in on your chest. Nipples hardening in arousal, his hands cup them and squeeze. The rough feeling and grip of his palms makes you gasp - harsh in the way you can only imagine someone who fucks alphas can be. Keening, you watching Bachira lean back in to kiss you briefly before leaving hot, wet kisses down your neck and chest.  
Before he gets any further, he drags you along to his bed. Manhandling you until you’re laying on your back on his sheets, he climbs over you with appreciation. His eyes trace your body before landing at your core, sopping wet from heat-addled arousal. You cover your face with your hands.  
Wordless, he grabs your tights and pulls them down from your body hard.  
There it becomes obvious, your wetness. Humiliation blooms in the pit of your gut as Bachira sits between your legs, pulling your them apart at the knee with complete and utter fascination. You’re wearing light colored panties - plain with silly patterns, pale yellow. Your arousal is no doubt visible, soaking beyond just the inset of your panties but the entire thing. Slick runs down your thighs, down your ass. It’s egregious, excess appropriately reflective of how you ache. Your body is wholly for a knot with how much of it there is.  
The longer Bachira stares, the more it pulses and throbs under his vision. You feel soaked from the waist down. “Is it always so wet…?”  
“It’s not… usually this bad.” You admit. Bachira growls something deep in his chest.  
Before you can protest, he rolls soaked underwear off you in one go and leaves you completely bare.  
He’s imposing, stood on his knees over you - nearly in a trance. Bachira pulls you up by your waist, his thigh supporting  your spine as he folds you up until your legs are in the air - bending down until your cunt is directly in front of his face. You gasp seeing his face between your legs. Both of his arms are secured around your thighs as he takes a sharp inhale. Slick drips down towards your belly because of the way you’re angled and bent. It’s humiliating seeing your legs overhead. He presses his cheek against slicked-soaked inner thighs.  
Holding you still like that, back off the bed nearly folded in half with only his own body to support you - he dives face deep into your cunt without a second of forewarning. Your whole being lurches at the sensation, the lacking of build-up going straight to your tender core.  
Bachira laps at your cunt like he’s starving for it. There’s no technique, nothing but sheer animalistic hunger as his tongue dives furiously into your sex - nose bumping and brushing your clit with each wet, forceful slide of his tongue, swallowing down as much of your slick with each go. You feel your body go weak, lightheaded at being held and ate so viciously. Arousal comes in waves until finds a pace for himself with little word of instruction other than desperate keening and vague asks for more. Your eyes are closed as tension draws in your stomach. His mouth finds your clit, sucking gently and letting the flat plane of his tongue smoth on the sensitive bundle of nerves over and over - sucking carefully.  
His face is red when you open your eyes to look at him slurp your pussy, slick up and into his throat as if its a life force. Your eyes lock and you whimper at how he smiles into your pussy, keeping rhythm. He hums against you as the feeling builds and builds and builds. Heat makes you lightheaded, your thighs trembling, feet pointed with your toes curling as you reach the inevitable end of your first orgasm. His arms are securing holding you and taking the weight off of your spine - both of them holding you tight. You see the veins flex in his forearms as he grips you. Something about it sends you careening off the edge.  
The first orgasm Bachira gives you happens like that. He makes you cum with your spine halfway up in the air, tension in your body going so tight before releasing all at once. Orgasm makes you crashland. You cum so hard, you’re blindsided. Tugging as from his grip, your thighs squish his face as you squirm, all the muscles in your lower body tremoring from release.  
“M-meguru, can’tcan’tcan’t,” You feel his mouth follow you through orgasm in what reverence. His tongue dips inbetween your folds, the only mercy you receive.  
All at once, he lets you down gently until your laid limp in his bed. His face is covered in slick and drool as you lay there gasping and twitching erratically in the aftermath of your first induced heat orgasm. You stare at him, dazed as he wipes his face with his hands then licks them clean.  
“You taste so fucking sweet,” He mumbles, awestruck. His hand comes down next to your head, nothing but pure adoration in his vision - fangs bared. The yellow gold of his eyes pins you to his bed. “I can’t get enough of you. Didn’t know anything could taste that good.”  
He presses his mouth to yours in a way that’s almost violent, holding your jaw so you can taste yourself on his tongue. When he’s pleased, he kisses the corner of your mouth, then your cheek and all over your face. You can’t think of a single coherent string of thoughts, even after your first orgasm.  
Like a livewire, every place Bachira touches, lingers for minutes. Just his name, just his knot - the only things your brain can make space for so aroused.  
“Did I already fuck you stupid?” He asks, breathless laugh on his lips. “Aw, baby - we just got started you know? You can’t tap out so early,” He pats your thigh with sticky hand making you yelp and waking you up form your haze. “How can I make you my mate without your full attention, hm?”  
You blink at him, tears at your lashes at his face. Your heart feels strange, so relieved, so pleasant, you think you could die. The smallest, soberest part of you is happy to be with Bachira but your instinct is practically clawing at your chest begging for more.  
“Meguru,” You want to burst into tears but settle for soft sniffles. “Meguru, I love you. Love you, love you so much. I love you.”  
“Ehh? Why’re you crying dummy?” His voice is tender, so thoughtful. Bachira is so selfish while being so loyal at the same time it makes your heart sing. “I love you too, so so much. Are you crying ‘cause it felt good?” 
He leans into your space, letting your arms wrap around his neck with a sniffle. “It felt so good it was scary,”  
He smiles at you - beaming. You want to hold onto him forever. Your soul has never ached so much for another person in your entire life, You press onto him tight, chest squeezing against his as you pull him in for a hug.  
He laughs then, squeezing you in his arms before rolling around in the bed. The innocence of the gesture brings a quiet giggle to your lips as Bachira presses kisses all over you. Soft pecks on your shoulder, on your nape, at the crown of your head. “Wanna look at me this time, hm? Would it make you feel better?”  
You nod in his arms and he smiles at you again, so sweet. He’s different. His egoism is so present, so there - selfishness carving him into the man he is now. Bachira does as he pleases with you, but gives you these little mercy’s admits his ruthlessness that make you want to fold under his touch.  
He lays on his back and drags you along with him. You’re laid ontop of him, chest to chest - and he keeps you like that before gazing into your eyes so adoringly, you urge to look away. He holds your gaze, not intending to let you.  
“You’re staring too much.” You murmur.  
“I can’t look at you even though you’re so pretty? Unfair.” He says back just as fast.  
“You say embarrassing stuff so easily…”  
He smiles at you. “Because I mean it, dummy. There’s no one prettier than you,”  
“That’s not,” Your breath catches as you feel his hands grab your ass, pressing your face to his neck, scent glands next to your nose. “…ngh, it’s not..”  
“Don’t say it’s not true or I’ll get angry,” His voice is sing-songy as he gropes you with both hands, content to feel you as you rub your body against his desperately craving more touch. You want to be in his skin. “You’re prettiest to me.”  
“Meguru,” You whimper. “Meguru,”  
“Begging for my knot with such a sweet voice. How deceiving.”  The contrast in the tone of his voice versus his touch makes you long for him. “Do you want my cock so bad already?”  
You frown feeling bashful as you nod.  
“Ah, but you’ve never had a knot in here before have you? Not a real one,” He hums, voice thick with amusement. “So I have to open you up nice till you’re nice and soft on my fingers mmkay? Here, turn this way.” 
Bachira lays you on your side, letting you adjust so your arm can slide under him comfortable. He lays facing you, pulling you towards him until your legs slot together - one of your legs locked between his with the other on top. He’s face to face with you like this. He slides one of his arms under your back to pull you to him even further, the other reaching over around your thighs and sliding his digits against your slick cunt. Your own arm bent at the elbow, you hold onto Bachira’s face locking eyes with him. Hands splay at his face, hoping your expression is enough to get the points across. He smiles at you, fangs glinting out shiny as he stares back.  
No words are shared between you but you get the feeling he knows exactly what you want to tell.  
You feel his middle finger slide down until it catches on your entrance making you whine. He hums sogtly, forearm pressed against your thigh as he pushes his first digit into you slowly. Your lips meet again in something softer, heat stricken pining you moan as he sinks into your welcoming heat. His voice is a whisper against your skin.  
“Fuck, nghh - Meguru,”  
“Your body is made for this,” He says, awestruck and giggly. “It’s going in so easy. Needs my knot so bad it’s getting impatient and ready. So fucking wet,”  
You huff impatiently. Rarely are you so petulant and impatient. You want more, need him inside so much deeper. From the first time you had sex to now, you’ve never experienced this much longing to be penetrated. To be fucked hard and deep, hardwired in your subconscious.  
 It’s never been important until now, until Bachira. His first slides in and out so easily, you only start to feel it at two. You tuck against Bachira’s neck, feeling the shape of his fingers. They’re angular, bony but long and pretty. They reach into you deeper than you’re own even with just two.  
“There’s a spot that makes you feel good, right?’ He hums. You can feel the reverb of his voice from his chest. “Where is it… here?”  
He hits it almost instant, rubbing your gspot - lightly swollen from heat. You arch against him as Bachira places an appreciative kiss on your shoulder. “It’s there. I’ll touch it more for you, ‘kay.”  
So he does. He angles his fingers, his wrists in such a way that he can rub up against it in a beckoning gesture. Your clit throbs in response to the stimulation - sticky, honeyed want coiling in your gut and abdomens as you sensitivity skyrockets even higher. Pressure builds slower with his fingers, just two - pumping in and out of your soaking wet pussy noisily as Bachira concentrates, low lidded eyes. Pressing his lips to yours and swallowing your tiny whimpers. You feel like you’re going to burst when he adds a third finger in. You’re not expecting the stretch - not painful but full. Makes you feel even needier, canting your hips against the motion of his fingers.  
You cum again dully throbbing all over your body - the sensation snapping like something brittle - clean and even but obvious. Your cunt tightens, clamping down on Bachira’s ring, middle, and pointer and how deeply they reach inside of you. You’ve never cum like this before, never cum from the inside even during heat. Silken walls clamp down on his thick fingers never wanting him to go, only wanting more.  
The arousal is just strong enough to make you snap. You gasp, nearly biting his lips as you shudder and rut - trembling in the strong grip of Bachira’s arms. The praise he whispers against your hot skin makes you feel so wanted. Your brain chants for his cock, his knot so eagerly you don’t know how to get it across other than begging him until your voice gives. The omega in you whines, sniffles brattily when Bachira pulls his fingers from you leaving your cunt so sorely empty.  
“Fuck me,” You express, trying to keep your composure as best you can. “Can’t think.”  
“Eh? That’s a first,” He hums. He draws your hips to his, hand on your ass as his clothed erection is pinned up against your sticky sex. “You’re always overthinking with this pretty face but now you want my knot so much you can’t?”  
The words make you want to collapse, how mean he says them while still being sweet. 
“I’m sorry,” You hiccup. “I love you  
“Shh, shh - it’s okay,” He murmurs. If you were more there you’d know he’s merely teasing. “Don’t cry. Just have to stick beside me from now on okay? All mine. Gonna bite you and make it permanent so you can’t run away.”  
“Okay,”  
“And you can’t show how cute you are like this to anyone else, okay?”  
You sniffle. “Okay,”  
“Say it baby,” He echoes. “Say I’m yours and you’re mine.”  
So you repeat the words as best you can in this state, slurring your words. “I’m yours and… you’re mine.”  
He grins. “You’re so cute. So perfect. Ah, I’m getting jealous of other people just thinking about it.”  
You blurt the words out drunk off of the sensations in your body when you hear Bachira talk of jealousy. “I broke up with my last boyfriend because of you,” You mumble, inhaling his scent “He was really nice to me but I couldn’t get over you even though we were together for a year,” You let your eyes flutter shut. “It was just a few days ago. So, there’s nothing to be jealous over,”  
A long silence stretches between you at the confession as you listen to Bachira’s heartbeat pick-up pace until it’s a loud pump. The sudden change makes you concerned, pulling away to see what he’s thinking. You assume it was going to be something cheeky and playful like always, but when you look at him - he’s blushing full red. Completely bashful, eyes blown wide and blinking rapidly. You feel oddly amused at it as he presses his lips together, hugging you until you laugh.  
“You’re soo unfair. Ugh, how could you…ugh” He trails off to stare at you. “You love me?”  
You smile at him breaking out into a giggle. “A lot. It’s embarrassing.”  
He sighs blissfully content.  
“I can’t look at you while I bond with you but I want to when I knot you ‘kay? Wanna hold you really close.” 
“Meguru,”  
He whistles at the sound of his name on your lips, like it’s all you need to say. “Lay on your tummy baby. “ 
He moves aside to let you flip over until you’re laying flat on your stomach. You lift your hips up slightly to make yourself more accessible, burying your face in your arms crossed in front you. You feel anticipation build up in your body, thoughts complete clouded. Your incisors sink in your lower lip as you listen to Bachira unzip and take off his pants, wiggling your hips lightly to tempt him. His hand comes down to swat your ass in a playful gesture. You yelp.  
He’s quiet for a while, his hands coming onto your back. “What’s this?”  
Your eyes widen as his fingers brush over the spot. You hadn’t thought about it. Your tattoo. Shit.  
“…A tattoo,”  
“Of a bumble bee and a flower,” Bachira repeats, shit-eating grin audible. “What kind of flower?”  
“Kuroyuri.” You say, embarrassed. “Stands for love and curse.”  
“Oh you’re really that in love with me, hm? How old is this? It’s healed. You missed me so much? I’m so happy.” He says breathlessly, elation so obvious in his voice it makes you shy. “Tell me all about when I’m done fucking you, okay baby?”  
You bury your face away from him, feeling shy as he kisses the placement before moving along.  
The position doesn’t let you see Bachira’s cock. Instead you feel it, which makes it much more imposing than you ever thought possible. The weight, the heft, the thickness of it is makes your breath hitch as you finally feel it outside of the confines of his boxers. You don’t need to look at it, you can feel how massive it is. He slides it along the curve of your ass and you can sense it so obviously it makes your stomach churn. He slides it between your ass, pushing it through both cheeks but not penetrating and it stretches you. You can barely contain the shock in your voice, pussy throbbing at the idea of him being inside of you with something so unbearably big.  
He hasn’t even knotted you. How can he possibly be that big without a knot. Your voice trembles.  
“Meguru… you’re huge.”  
He laughs, breathless. Cocky and egoistic that sends your spine tingling like a solar flare. “You don’t like it?”  
“I’m a little scared,” You admit. “But I want it at the same time.”  
“Don’t be scared,” His voice is tender but his words are filthy. “You’re made for me. Your cunts all split open and soaking wet because it’s begging you for my knot, pretty. Just mine. You’ll feel so full with me. So don’t be nervous and let me in okay?”  
You breathe deeply shakily, eyes fluttering closed at the promise of it. “Okay, Meguru.”  
You find yourself thankful that you’re not looking at him, but at the same time - you’re unsure if it’s better. You have to focus in on the sensation. There’s nothing but posters on the wall for you to look at and your eyes are barely focused it. Every inch of your skin is dry kindle and Bachira is the lighter - the match, the spark that sends you reeling in the midst of your heat.  
Your heats are always drunken stupors, messy hormonal sessions. To you they’ve always been akin to intense inebriated sex that’s painful unless you cum a few times.  
But with Bachira your heat is all encompassing flame. It’s like letting the sun swallow you whole, sweat dripping down your spine. When Bachira pushes the fat head of his cock into your tight, wanting, needy fucking cunt - you cry so loud you might scream. Whats left of your sense snaps as your body throbs for cock, you push yourself back onto him with a groan. You want him to knot you, want him to fuck you full and cum deep inside and plug you up. Want him to make you so whole and he’s so good because he is. 
 You feel your fists tangle in the sheets, and then feel Bachira’s body slump over yours from behind. His hand falls over yours, squeezing it as the thick swell of his shaft pushes into you your pussy painfully slow and stakes its claim. You feel like an animal the way you give way to your desires.  
The sensations and scent in the room is so strong your eyes sting and your mouth waters, drool pooling at your lips as Bachira splits your pussy open completely on his fat cock. Everything is sweet,  coats your mouth as you take in a sharp gasp of air. You choke his name out from your lips, whimpering at the soft growl in his voice when he finally bottoms out. Inch by inch, veins of his cock throbbing and pulsing inside of you.  
Your body is hypersensitive. You’re so wet, so out of your mind with that your thighs are trembling at the edge of an orgasm. If he moves the right way, you know you’ll cum instantly.  
He leans over your shoulder and you pick your head up weakly letting him lick into your mouth. “Gonna bond you. Gonna mark you and mate you and making you all fucking mine. Sink my fangs into your pretty neck, my pretty omega. You’re so precious baby. Make me so hard. I love you, I love you so much.”  
“Bite me,” Is all you can get out, your brain can barely think hard enough for anything else. “Please. Please bite me,”  
It’s sudden. Sharp. Exactly what you want.  
You feel the sensation of teeth in your neck and everything around you halts to honor it. An orgasm shatters you in the process of it as Bachira pulls out and thrusts his hips and you cum so hard you shake violently - hands fisted in the sheets and pussy spasming as you cum relentlessly. Bottomed out, you allow your body to take it all in before the feeling your bond starts to draw in so much clarity. Belly fully, muscles tight - everything slows the the whirring blades of a fan coming a halt or a car worshiping a red light. The world stops spinning, briefly - mind and soul and spirit melding together his fangs descent into your neck. You feel the sharpening teeth sink into the soft flesh of your nape and cry out at the dull sensation of pain, outweighed by the out-of-body euphoria.  
It’s like everything makes sense. Every moment, every concern, every heartbreak - every minute apart. Love like a nerve split raw, open, tender - make tears pool at your lashes and spill down your face as Bachira bonds with you and stays there long enough to penetrate. All endorphins, pleasure, pain. Something clicks steadily into place inside of you and makes sense of all of your mess. Everything you are. 
A sense of completeness like nothing you could ever know without him. You love him so much it swallows you whole.   
Bonding, a mark of permanence - can be rejected by the body. Bred into your secondary sex after years of evolution. A unique trait to alpha and omega sexes, whether same or opposite sex pairs. Bonds are equivalent to sharing yourself with another person. Weak bonds can be broken, and some bonds won’t take at all.  
When your bond with Bachira takes so easily some part of you just knows. Some place beyond instinct, beyond every thing in the world that defines you. All of you has always existed in part with Bachira. And this pleasure, this desire for closeness can only be derived from years of unconditional love.  
Whatever would happen of you, had you been born an alpha or beta, Bachira would be born alongside you and make you complete or you, him. The way the sensation connects you like an invisible thread is proof of that.  The ease of it. The desire between you is greater because of it’s exclusivity, because you prefer omegas and always will - but no one compares to Bachira regardless of sex or anatomy. He is yours because he is him, sweet smells and soft eyes and need.  
You can’t help but weep about it as you know he feels it too, secretions from his teeth dulling the pain from the wound as he finally pulls out from the mark and laps at the blood.  
You feel such intense relief, heat subsiding leaving only pleasure and warmth. .  
You love him so much you could stay like this. You love him so much nothing else in the world could ever sway you from it. You don’t care what it makes you. What it means. You love Bachira as he loves you - conventionally unconventional. Beautifully imperfect.  
Tears slip down your face as Bachira licks your wounds for you like always.  
“I’m yours, baby.” Bachira says, soft. Whispers your first name as he says it. “I love you so much. My whole life. Since I was little. Since you called out to me and let me show you my dribbling. I can’t stand being without you, you know? So don’t ever leave me,”  
You laugh a little, sobering. “As if I could.”  
“Wanna knot you and hold you, kay? Gimme a sec.”  
Your body whines at sensation of Bachira slowly pulling out before flipping you onto your back in missionary. He’s quick to do it. You glance at his shiny cock , light throb in your neck as he shoves the whole thing back in one go and making your sensitive hole cum all over again. Your own body is ridiculous to you. You’re making a mess on his cock and definitely of his bed in the process, gasping as your muscles spasm in your waist. 
“S-sorry,”  
“Don’t apologize for that, dummy.” He kisses you. “Here. Hold onto me.”  
You wrap your arms around his shoulders and let yourself slump into bed, whining as Bachira fucks you a few times - sloppy, wet thrusts noisy in the room around you. You feel them in your exhaustion, another wave of tension making your stomach burn. 
“Gonna, fuck—knot you, gonna knot you, ‘kay? Touch yourself for me.”  
“Knot me, Meguru.”  
Bachira bottoms out. You feel his cum flood your cunt - so thick it’s in a stream as the base of his thick cock swells inside your pussy. You’re already so stretched by his dick on its own, you can’t imagine the sensation of the real thing until you feel it.  
It throbs hotly inside of you, deep. The knot swells up until it’s fat enough to stretch your open, slick pussy even further. You feel it in spite of how wet you are, the sensation rubbing on your walls raw punching all the air out of your lungs as he cock fills you completely. You feel it in your throat, his knot in your belly plugging you full as you breathe.  
“Fuck,” Your voice breaks. “You’re so huge, what the fuck.”  
He pauses then laughs hysterically as he sinks into you unable to move. “Thanks! I’m pretty proud of it.”  
You chuckle tiredly. “How long does this last?”  
He hums. “An hour-ish?”  
Your eyes go wide. “Shit. Really?”  
“Uh-huh,” Bachira says happily, collapsing ontop of you. “And when it goes down I’m going to fuck you some more.”  
“Mercy… my stamina… Meguru I’ll die.”  
“No way. I’ve waited too long.” He says with a deep breath. “But I’ll let you rest for now.”  
You close your eyes, smiling. “Pfft. Thanks.”  
__  
Your back is going to give out.  
Athletes are frightening. Your body is covered in bite marks underneath the collar as you peel out of Bachira’s arms in the morning after. It’s 7am, and the sun still hasn’t risen since it’s the dead of winter. You stare at him, kissing his cheek as he lays - completely rested and healthy. Bastard.  
“Meguru,” You hum, stirring him awake. “I’m gonna run to the store and pick us up something to eat.”  
“Noooo,” He says, half asleep trying to wrestle you back into bed. “Stay here. With me,”  
“No,” You reprimand, peeling away from him. He whines out loud. “I’m sticky. I’m gonna borrow your loose clothes okay? I’ll be back soon.”  
“Booo,”  
Ultimately too tired to protest, you yawn and crawl out of your bed, scrambling to the shower after rummaging through tubs of clean, old clothes in Bachiras’s room and picking whatever you think will fit.  
You shower, scrubbing yourself inside and out. You feel apologetic using the products in the shower as you scrape cum out of yourself as best you can and scrub your body. Layers of sweat and slick between your thighs have dried down and feel incredibly unpleasant now that your sober and your heat is mostly settled or it will be for another few days. You’re thankful that Bachira’s childhood home is the second most familiar place in your life as it allows you to get clean in hot water without feeling awkward.  
Once you’re cleaned, you dry off and borrow Bachira’s lotion - rubbing into your skin and taking care of your appearance best you can. You examine yourself in the bathroom mirror, feeling sudden humiliation at your face. You’re practically glowing, and you reek of Bachira and fucked out omega even after the bath. You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose and thanking all higher powers that you don’t have to see your parents for a few more days.  
After gathering yourself in the bathroom, you check on Bachira one more time in his room and smile as sleeps softly before slipping downstairs. 
His mom hasn’t returned yet. Her shoes, jacket, and other belongings aren’t in the house and her gifts are where you left them. You feel thankful about that as your eyes search for your bag, still sitting on the couch where you left it. Shuffling through it, you pop some heat medication dry before doing anything else.  
You grab it. It still has some battery left, left on DND. You check the time only, deciding you can swipe later. Heading out the door quickly, you make sure to lock up using the key underneath the mat for your quick trip to 7/11.  
A brisk walk later in the frostbitten air, you enter the convenience store. A bored looking cashier nods at you as you smile flatly in return.  
You pick up a couple of things. XXL condoms, juice and soda water, some snacks and ramen - along with some easy hot foods that can keep you both alive until you can get a better meal. Bachira has a decent appetite but you don’t think he’ll be up for a while to eat proper. He likes to sleep in during vacations.  
“Ah, excuse—Bachira?”  
Your eyes widen as you meet eyes with the familiar stranger and his friend. You know both of these people.  
You could not have possibly met them at a worse time.  
“Isagi-kun…” You bow, awkwardly thinking of what ways you could end your life right there in the 7/11. “And this is…?”  
“Rin Itoshi. He prefers Rin,”  
“Rin-kun,”  
The taller, brooding one gives you a look, crinkling his nose a little. You want to die. Your gaze turns to Isagi which is not much better as he’s wearing the worst shit-eating grin you’ve ever seen in your life.  
“I see. Nice to meet you Rin-kun,” You say, looking away, “What are you two doing here? This is me and Bachira’s hometown.”  
“We’re supposed to visit him in a couple of days actually but decided to do a little sight-seeing first. There’s more of us but they’re asleep at the hotel.”  
You just nod, silence stretching between you before Isagi breaks it.  
“I’m glad the two of you made up,” He says. “When did you guys start to reconcile? I always felt really guilty after the whole mall incident. Glad to see you  both doing well,”  
Your brain moves too slow to lie. “Uh. Last night was the first time we saw each other in a few years,”  
His eyes widen. “So the picture he posted was…?”  
You squint. “What picture?”  
Isagi makes a guilty face, unsure of what to do. Before you can ask, Rin, pulls his phone out and shows you something.  
It’s you and Bachira in bed with you asleep in his arms - your bitemark and visible tattoo showing in the image as his hand cradles the back of your head while you’re cuddling him in your sleep.. You’re both mostly covered by the sheets. The only caption is an emoticon and you’re not tagged. You blink, wiping your eyes. It’s so like him, you aren’t sure if you should laugh or cry. You sigh deeply instead.  
“You didn’t know?”  
“Haven’t checked my phone since..” You trail off. He’s so reckless. “Thanks for uh… showing me. I’m gonna head back but you and your team mates should come visit sometime. I cook hotpot for New Years so it’d be nice to have you all.”  
Isagi smiles amicably, politely ignoring the situation. You’re thankful your partners friend has so much tact unlike he himself. “Of course. I’ll ask Bachira for your info. Keep in touch”  
“Of course. Good luck on the World Cup qualifiers.”  
They both thank you for that before you turn and depart with whatever left of your dignity.  
__  
You check your phone on the way back to his place, seeing your notifications in shambles. Fifty messages total, some from family and most from friends congratulating you. You ignore all of them for now, especially the ones from your brother - not willing to know what they say.  
In your despair, you don’t notice the new pair of shoes when you open the unlocked door of Bachira’s childhood home either.  
“Oh!” Yu-sans voice is just as welcoming as it always is as you stare at her in the doorway awe-struck. She smiles at you incredibly knowingly as a new wave of mortification sinks in. “You’re back. Meguru is in the shower.”  
“Ah,”  
She gives you a long grin, letting the silence settle first before breaking out into laughter so loud it startles you. You can feel your body grow hot with shame, wishing the world would open from the ground up and swallow you.  
“You know I always thought something like this would happen eventually,” She hums, prepping the flowers you bought last night for a vase. “I’m grateful it happened when you were both adults at least.”  
“Yu-obasan..”  
“Oh don’t be so cold. Yu-san is fine. Or maybe kaa-san now that you’re both together.” She hums. “Anything but oba-san is fine. Makes me feel old. You know that.”  
You make an embarrassed face, sighing as you set your things down at the couch. You wanted to do stuff like this in order. Though you never really imagined you and Bachira together, you always thought for a serious relationship you’d have more of yourself together.  
“Uh,” You flush as you sit at the counter. Yu-san gives you a small smile, head tilted to one side as she arranges the flowers you’ve bought her. “It’s late to do this, but uhm… thank you for giving birth to Meguru and for taking care of me as if I were your own child all this time.” You feel your ears turn hot as you say the rest. “I promise to take good care of Meguru and you for as long as I live, any way I can and I hope you can accept our relationship and give us your blessing.”  
You pause, afraid to look up for a minute until the silence stretches on for a touch too long. When you look up, she’s smiling. Grinning. Meguru looks so much like her. Her laughter bubbles through the room airily like champagne.  
She comes around to hug you tight, startling you from where you sit, her hand on your head. “Asking my blessing… I don’t know how my Meguru got so lucky to find such a responsible kid. Of course you have it. As if you need to ask. Please do take good care of him and yourself. This is your home too, okay?” 
You smile before being startled by another familiar voice. “Uwah, I go shower and you’re having a hug without me.”  
“Come join us then!”  
“Yay! Group hug!” 
Bachira hollers as he squeezes you and his mom in a hug, suffocating you. It’s incredibly embarrassing so in some ways it feels incredibly familiar. They’re really too similar some times.  
When they pull away, Yu-san plays a motherly kiss to both your face and Bachira’s. “I’m going to go put these up in my room and hang out in the studio for a bit. You two should have a date, alright? It’s rare you have time like this.”  
“’Kay,” Bachira says, watching her walk up stairs before shouting. “Love you!”  
“Love you too!”  
You watch her disappear up the steps before seeing Bachira again sobered.  He smiles at you lovingly, but you pout - suddenly remembering this morning.  
“Ehhh?? Why are you making that face? Shouldn’t we be super lovey-dovey right now?”  
“The picture you posted,” You say, tugging at his shirt with your head down. “That’s too sudden. You’re a big athlete now, and—“ 
“So? There’s no one for me but you. I don’t care who knows. I want everyone in the entire world to know even though I don’t want them to actually see you.” He murmurs, crowding into your space. “I want everyone to know you’re mine. Don’t be mad, okay?”  
“I spoil you too much,” You say, because it’s true and it’s enough to make you not mad at all.  
He kisses you then. He tastes like the fruity toothpaste kids use and home when he does pulling back with a warm smile. You feel flush but keep your eyes on his face.  
“It’s the first time we’ve kissed just to kiss,” You hum. He smiles mischievously.  
“The second time, silly.”  
When the realization dawns on you, you gasp - smacking his chest in shock in dismay.  
You thought he blacked out for that kiss when you were seventeen! Bachira breaks out into giggles above you.  
“Meguru!” You exclaim, feeling huffy as he pulls you into his arms and begs for forgiveness. 
Meguru. Homesickness makes you ache, his name in your mouth the only remedy.  
Meguru. Your one and only.  
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reallyromealone · 3 months ago
Note
Sebastian michaelis x demon/vampire butler reader? Omegaverse perhaps?
Title: a bit bitey
Fandom:black butler
Characters: Ciel, Sebastian
Fic type: fluff, omegaverse, suggestive content
Pairings:
Warnings: male reader, reader insert, omegaverse, fluff, suggestive themes, vampire reader
Notes: IM BAAAAAACK >:)
Summary: Reader is a vampire who drinks the blood of alphas who fall for his charms and gets mistaken for Jack the Ripper and gets chased by Sebastian and offered a position be can't refuse
🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸
It was said that when a demon bedded a witch that it would create something truly unholy that would walk the earth craving human flesh, unable to touch the sun.
It's why (name) found his home in London, a lovely home with his centuries accumulated wealth and all his trinkets over the years scattered around, like a museum of his immortality.
"I was so hungry..." (Name) Sighed, the Omega watching as the man dropped to the ground, body drained of all blood and (name) licked his lips, a bit of blood on his top lip. A sense of euphoria washed over the Omega who let out a sigh before stepping over the dead alpha, seeing a wanted poster for Jack the Ripper, whoever that guy was sure made feedings easy...
It was the dead of night, no one really in the streets and the oil lamps lighting his path home, a pep in his step and soft humming could be heard.
He was always so happy after a good feeding.
"There he is! Sebastian, get him!" A child's voice could be heard and (name) turned to lock eyes with a deep red pair... A demon.
(Name) Immediately bolted, the young blue eyed boy going into his carriage to wait while his demon stalked down the street.
Running through alleyways and corners, (name) was thankful for his speed and lack of footsteps, slipping into his bedroom door and closing it with a sigh.
Safe.
"Fu--" (name) was pinned to the ground by the black haired alpha, arms pinned to his side "you know, people would typically take one on a romantic stroll or maybe a dinner before doing something like this" (name) snarled at the alpha who wasn't even remotely phased "you have been causing problems..." Sebastian said casually, eyeing the Omega who huffed "I'm simply having dinner" (name) didn't particularly care for the humans, really seeing them as food "you killed five prostitutes"
Huh?
"My apologies but I don't pursue other omegas" (name) said simply "I pursue alphas, they're easier" Sebastian stared him down, looking for any trade if a lie but when he found nothing he let go of his wrists but stayed on the vampires hips "is there anything else I can assist you with Sbeastian?" Remembering the name the boy called the demon "are you looking for employment?" Sebastian asked curiously, (name) raising an eyebrow at the question.
"What are you on about?"
"I can offer you something, an exchange"
"What could you possibly offer me?"
"Demon blood in exchange for employment" (name) didn't need money, he didn't need items or anything material as he lived for centuries and had an Elizabethan era outfit in a chest in the attic of his home. "You are willing to give me your blood?" (Name)s eyes were blown out while moving to touch the others cold neck, right around his jugular "no more attacking humans, work under me and you get demonic blood" demonic blood was like a fine wine to a vampire, addictive and delicious.
Sebastian could smell the omegas pharamones even when masked, biting his lips "do you know what you're asking of me, alpha?"
"I am well aware of what in asking, Omega" Sebastian whispered, getting closer to the other "I'm half human, do you think you can handle my mortal emotions? I am very high maintenance" (name) didn't flinch, the twos lips barely touching and eyes locking "I think I can manage, humans are needy creatures"
"Half human"
"Ah yes, like a mutt"
(Name) Glared "my my what a charmer, can you please kindly get your flat bottom off me alpha?" (Name) Batted his eyes "don't you have your child to tend to?"
"Do you accept my offer?"
"I suppose I will become your mate..." (Name) Huffed, looking at the alpha who was now his mate "my heat is in two weeks, I will be having it here and I will be keeping my residence for such matters or if you annoy me too much"
Sebastian silently chuckled at the Omega he chose, a snarky vampire who didn't care for silly human traditions on being an Omega.
This was going to be fun.
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Text
Coraline
Synopsis: Y/n’s childhood and history with her parents has always stayed a secret, and she likes it that way. Until a journalist reveals the truth, and everything seems to come crashing down at once.
young female driver reader x 2023 F1 grid
A/N: a few things for this fic: reader will be 20 years old, had driven for alpha tauri since the beginning of 2022, the 2022 is the same as the 2023 grid, and please look at the trigger warning below.
Trigger Warning: This fic contains abusive parents, talks of eating disorders, neglecting a kid, verbally abusing a kid, signs of depression, and a lot of hurtful comments in general. This fic is not meant to idolize or romanticize having abusive parents or depression. If anyone finds anything particularly disturbing with this fic, do not hesitate to let me know and I will fix it.
tagged: @treehouse-mouse
2023 was supposed to be a good season for Alpha Tauri. The cars looked good, your driver pairing was solid, and the hopes were high for your junior Red Bull team. You could only laugh at the naivety of it now.
Most of the season was exceptional; you and Yuki Tsunoda brought in points almost every weekend, your team was seventh in the constructors championship, and overall, you were having a great time traveling around the world.
This was your second year in Formula 1, and now that you weren’t a rookie anymore, you could have more fun now that you knew what you were doing.
Some people just don’t like others being happy, though.
With less than 10 races left, you walked into the paddock for the Monza Grand Prix Thursday afternoon feeling optimistic. This was the second race after the summer break, and Alpha Tauri was expected to do well in Italy.
Your press officer, Ally, greeted you in your garage, and after saying hello to Yuki, you followed her out of the garage and into the media pen for a press conference.
You walk in to see Lewis, Carlos, Lando, and Fernando and talked quietly with them as the press in front of you get settled. “Everybody ready? All right, first question please” One of the directors asks, as a journalists speaks up.
“Lewis, you’ve witnessed the infamous ‘Monza Curse’ multiple times in your career, do you think the theory is true and will it strike again this year?”
“Um, no” Lewis chuckles. “I don’t believe in the curse, but it would be nice to see someone new finish first today, and if a curse is what it’s going to take, then yeah, why not”
The five of you laugh, not noticing the second journalist beginning to speak. “Y/n, what do you have to say about the recent article published regarding your past with your family?”
You instantly stop laughing, hoping you misheard the man.
“Sorry?”
There’s no way
“The article? That was recently published concerning your past with your parents, what do you have to say about it?” The journalist stared at you curiously while your mind blanked for an answer.
You had no idea what article he was talking about, but if it concerned your past with your ‘family’, you knew it wasn’t anything that should be published.
Suddenly there’s movement in the midst of the media pen, and your press officer emerges from the crowd. “Y/n, come with me” She pauses, seeing one of the directors nearing out of the corner of her eye.
“It’s urgent, I need her” You’d take any excuse to get away from the current situation, so after exchanging a look with Lewis, you follow the woman into the paddock towards your garage.
Once you were both in the safety of your drivers room, you turned on her. “What article is he talking about? What’s going on?” You said, voice heavy with concern.
Ally hesitated, looking uncomfortable, before answering. “This morning, an article published a story talking about you and your parents, and the-um, harsh history you have with them” She hands you her phone, said article already open.
“I think it’s better if you read it yourself” The bold letters blink up at you, clear and sullen.
“F1 DRIVERS UNCOVERED: THE REAL REASON WE DON’T SEE Y/N L/N’S PARENTS”
Your heart falls to your stomach and your hands start to shake as your eyes skim over the words of the most invading and overwhelming article you’ve ever read in your life. Whoever wrote this, wrote it in hopes of exposing every secret of your past, and further tangles the truth of an already over-complicated background.
The real reason your parents are never around you is a reason you hate talking about.
You first realized it when you were around ten years old, the way your parents never looked happy around each other, and always tense around other parents. The way they never said ‘I love you’ or kissed each other goodbye. It confused you, as these were the things you always saw your friend’s parents do, but you were too young to understand at the time, so you mainly ignored it.
It wasn’t until one night when you were eleven that you heard an argument erupting from your kitchen, one about money and divorces and you. The shouting continued for ages, until you heard one statement, loud and clear.
“Think about this, she’s getting good in those karting competitions of hers, and according to other parents she could go really far in this thing and get money from sponsorships and mentors. So let’s just give it a little time, make sure she gets better and gets paid, and the money will go to us and eventually she’ll leave to Formula- whatever and we won’t have to worry about her”
You put your pillow over your head, turned around, and went to sleep sobbing that night.
From then on, there was no ‘I love you’s’ or kisses goodbye even to you, and eventually, no happiness in your house. The ‘other parents’ were right, the older you got, the farther you looked to go in racing. Just before you turned 13, the three of you moved to a city in England so you could pursue karting further, and that’s when it all got worse.
You competed in countless competitions, and every race you won, the more criticism you got from your mom and dad. The second you stepped off the 1st place podium, your parents were waiting to comment on your driving and the techniques you should’ve used to win.
They never let you focus on anything but karting, letting you go nowhere but the track and to school, and made sure you were always looking for ways to get better. They ruthlessly compared you to kids in other series that were performing better than you, and countered every compliment someone gave you with a complaint.
All of this seemed like a dream compared to the treatment you got when you lost. Whether it be second, or tenth, every race you didn’t come first in was a loss, and your parents simply didn’t accept this.
When you lost, they’d make you practice on track for twice as long, no matter the weather, and berated you the second you started to complain. They limited your diet after your losses, claiming you needed to be lighter if you wanted the kart to go faster.
Your mother and father gave you this relentless attention with anything regarding racing, but the moment the topic drifted, you were neglected. There were no family dinners or movie nights, if you wanted something, you were going to have to buy it with your own money, and if you wanted to go somewhere, you needed to walk or find a ride because they refused to drive you anywhere if it wasn’t for a race.
There was no other family to go to even when things go impossibly rougher; you had no other relatives in the UK, and you couldn’t exactly ask your friends if you could live with them.
So you endured these conditions, all the way through the F4 British Championship, F3 and F2. You turned 18 while you were in Formula 2, and the second you did, you took the little money you had, and rented an apartment in South England, where you’ve been living ever since.
Your parents constantly contacted you in whatever ways they could, but you very quickly made sure they didn’t know where you lived and were never given paddock passes again. No one knows any of this anyway; when people ask where your parents are or when they’d get to meet them, you just shrug and say, “they couldn’t make it”
You haven’t seen your parents in person since you were 17, and you’ve done everything in your power to keep it like that.
Though with a few thousand words and 4 hours, one nosy journalist has managed to unravel all your work and growth and release it into the world.
You’re broken out of your stunned silence when Ally puts a hand on your shoulder. “I’ve set up a meeting with Alpha Tauri and Red Bull’s PR managers so we could figure out what we should do next to keep the press off your back, okay? The meeting’s in fifteen meetings, so I’ll leave you for a while”
Ally takes her phone back and exits the room to leave you standing still in the middle of it, astonished and speechless.
The meeting goes as well as you expected it to go. You shared as much as the truth as you saw fit, and came up with a statement to post with the rest of the PR managers. You were confirmed to go back to the media pen to finish interviews an hour later, and while no one asked you about the article, you could tell it was the unanswered question they all wanted to raise.
You are able to avoid most of the press of the remaining of the Italian weekend, and stuck to answering race-related questions only, your safest and only option, Ally told you later. You finished the Grand Prix P10, and flew home still sullen.
You spent the two weeks in between Monza and Japan in your apartment, regretfully thinking about all those years you had to spend under your parent’s treatment, and trying to forget them with simulator work.
You arrive in Suzuka, quiet and unsmiling, and try to ignore the shouting of the press that greets you on your way into the paddock. Ally guides you away as two new voices greet you.
“Hey Y/n, how are you?” Lewis asks, pulling you into a side hug and stepping into place beside you.
“Are you okay? You seem off” Charles says concerned, meeting you in a handshake.
“I’m fine, my flight just got in late last night so I’m tired, that’s all” You half smiled in response, hoping it was believable enough.
“Sure?” Lewis presses father. “Yeah, I’m okay” You nod.
“Okay, well, we’re still going into the city after media today?” Lewis asks. “Of course, I’ll meet you guys at my hotel after” You assure as you near the Alpha Tauri garage.
“See you then, and try to sleep a bit, yes?” Charles says before the two men walk off together.
Your friendship with the two drivers started because of the Spanish and British Grand Prix’s, the two races that gave you your two highest race finishes, and ended with two of your closest friends. Spain was a great race for both you and Lewis, yourself in P4, him in P2, and after non-stop talking in the paddock, you flew back to the UK together, effectively starting the friendship existing today.
You’d been friendly with Charles previously, but after his P9 finish in Silverstone and your P5 finish, he realized in a conversation before an interview that you were undeniably good at cheering people up, and you guys have been close since.
You’ve talked with them since Monza, of course, but not about the article. They want to talk to you about it, you can tell, but Charles and Lewis aren’t the type of people to just come right out and ask if you’re feeling okay about your history with your abusive parents being exposed to the world.
They also don’t want to pressure you into talking about something you clearly don’t want to talk about, so if all they can do is help distract you from the media, they’re going to.
Your night out with the Mercedes and Ferrari drivers does distract you; Lewis leads you and Charles to different shops and restaurants all over Suzuka, talking and laughing the entire time. You take a few photos along the way, and you go back to your hotel still smiling.
You kept your good mood until qualifying on Saturday, and are brought back into the reality of racing when you only manage P11. It’s technically not bad of a result for your car, but P9 or P8 would’ve been better right now, because all you can think about is what your parents would’ve said if you finished P11.
They’re paying you millions of dollars to race for them and the best you can do is eleventh?
You think you deserve to be here?
They are hundreds of other drivers that would do so much better than you
You are nothing compared to the other drivers
You’re lucky if you keep you seat next season, I know I wouldn’t let a P11 driver on my team
You go quiet at the thought, and get through post-race media stoic. You leave with your trainer as soon as you can, avoiding Lewis and Charles’s eyes on your way out. You have a week before you have to leave for Qatar, and spend a countless amount of hours on your simulator, hoping this time it’ll make a difference.
You flew into Lusail not knowing what to expect other than hot weather, and unfortunately you were right. You felt the heat as soon as you got in your car for FP1 on Friday and was already dreading the rest of the weekend.
You qualify P11 for both the race and the sprint, and end up in P12 for the two. You felt terrible after Sunday’s race, both physically and mentally, and you’re already berating yourself for your performance by the time you get weighed.
Charles and Lewis are in your post-race press conference group, and you can see them exchange a look after every cold and detached answer you give. You only stop to talk to your friends for a few minutes afterwards before you excuse yourself to go cool down, and leave minutes later with the defense of needing rest.
You fly back to the UK with Lewis, and you’re glad the two of you are asleep for most of the trip so Lewis won’t ask you to talk about why you’ve been so quiet.
The 10 days you have until you fly out to Austin are spent mostly on your phone, looking at all the comments people have been making about you since the article came out, saying how you probably deserved the treatment that you got, and how Alpha Tauri needs a more “stable” driver if they want to advance in the championship.
You don’t do much except exercise and train on the sim in those days, finding neither the desire or energy to do anything else.
Even though everyone is happy to be in Texas that week, you can’t find the energy to truly smile once that weekend. Charles and Lewis are practically stuck to your side, and even though you can tell they’re dying to ask you to talk about it, they only ask a few times if you wanted to tell them something, and when you denied, and simply offered companionship through silence.
It’s another sprint race, and you only pull off P12 and 13 for qualifying and the shootout, and drop a place by the end of both races.
You feel more frustrated with yourself than ever; you don’t understand why you can’t work with the car like you once used to, and you can’t even figure out how to again. You were doing so well until that fucking article came out, and all the sudden you don’t know how to drive.
The worst part about it is that every race, more and more people are realizing how you’ve been under-performing, and how people are starting to question your ability to drive for the junior Red Bull team.
You aren’t stupid, you know how things work at Red Bull, so you know that if you don’t pick your pace up soon, you could end up without a seat for the 2024 season.
This thought alone starts to destroy you, and soon you can’t even deny how burnt out you are. You pick up on the forced habit of not eating much, and making yourself to do nothing but train and look for ways to be better.
You spend the days before Mexico with data analysts and strategists, looking for any and every way to go faster. You dedicate too much time looking at successful F2 drivers, hearing Liam Lawson’s name come up too much for comfort, thinking about how Dennis Hauger had been looking fast in F2.
It’s a terribly unhealthy time killer, one that makes you look sick and go quiet. Charles and Lewis aren’t the only ones exchanging concerned looks now; multiple other drivers on the grid, friends with you or not, notice the change in your behavior and quickly grow worried when they hear Yuki’s description of you.
The drivers aren’t stupid either, they all know about the article that was published in September, and most of them would be lying if they said they hadn’t looked at it in curiosity. They’d also be lying if they saw their eyes didn’t widen in concern or eyebrows didn’t furrow with worry when they read how terrible your parents treated you.
The grid saw how the comments got nastier and nastier under your lessening social media posts every day, and even asked your PR officer multiple times to make sure she was managing your accounts and making sure you didn’t see what people had to say about your background or yourself.
They saw how you got quieter every race, how you stopped hanging out with Yuki and Charles and Lewis, no matter how many times they offered. They saw the rumors of you and your 2024 seat, how apparently Helmut Marko was paying close attention to you and the clauses in your contract.
They asked a lot, if you wanted to talk or if they could help in any way. It was always the same response; a weary smile, a small shake of the head, the words,“No, I’m fine, just tired” and an excuse that you were needed in your garage or media pen.
So they try to help in more discreet ways; when Yuki is asked about your position on Alpha Tauri or your future with Red Bull, he calmly assures that you are working hard with the team, and is doing everything possible to understand the car.
Charles, Lewis, and a few other drivers make a routine of coming to your driver’s room, most of the time just to sit with you as you look at data, or talk with you when you’re feeling up to it.
Mexico goes somehow worse than Texas, and you finish with your lowest result in F1 yet, P15. You try to be as approachable as possible in post-race media, but your sullen face gives you away.
You leave with Ally and your trainer to catch your flight to Brazil mere hours after you passed the checkered flag, and spend most of your time in Sau Paulo alone in your hotel room, replaying every hurtful comment either your mother and father or fans have said about you, and debating whether or not it was true.
You walk into the Brazilian paddock Thursday morning more grateful than you thought possible that this was the third-to-last race of your season.
And according to over twenty media sources, your third-to last race of F1.
After a public statement made by Marko talking about how Red Bull was “considering your future with their junior team” every journalist in the F1 community has decided that it means this was your last season in F1.
And honestly, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. Whether you raced in 2024 or not, you just wanted to go home and avoid the press for three months.
It was another sprint weekend, and another terrible qualifying and shootout. You placed 15th in both sessions and kept your place in the sprint, and spent a quiet Saturday evening in your hotel.
You could feel almost every journalists eye’s turn to you as soon as you walked into the paddock on Sunday. You arrived early that afternoon to get some extra data-stuff done, only now realizing that it gave the growing group of reporters behind you more time to ask you questions.
“Y/n! Can you tell us about your future in F1?”
“Will you have a seat next year?
“Y/n, what does Helmut Marko think about your decrease in performance?”
“Does your past with your parents have anything to do with your recent race results?”
You try to keep your face emotionless as you make your way into the Alpha Tauri garage and to your drivers room. You prepare for the race with your personal trainer and look over the arranged strategies for Sau Paulo while you wait for the go-ahead to get in your car.
Due to all the crashed-out cars, you ended the race in P12 in front of Oscar Piastri and Daniel Ricciardo. Statistically speaking, it was one of your better 2023 races, but everyone knows if it wasn’t for all the DNF’s, you’d finish in the bottom five.
You know that everyone knows this because just before you walked into the media pen after your race debrief, you saw Christian Horner and Marko speaking to your team principle, and after Yuki’s P9 finish today, it didn’t take you even a second to understand who they were talking about with disappointed faces and multiple shakes of the head.
Sure, this could mean nothing. This could just be a conversation between the three people that control the top team and it’s junior team. But you also like to think you’re a bit smarter than that.
You walked deeper into the crowded area before the three could see you, and walked to the first open journalist you saw, in hopes of leaving early.
“Y/n, hi! Not too bad of a race for you today, I guess?” The man asked, pointing his microphone towards you
“Yeah, not too bad. The car felt pretty okay and there was a bit of pace, but not enough to overtake or anything, clearly” You reply.
“Can we expect more race pace from you in Las and Vegas and Abu Dhabi?”
“I mean, it’s a bit too early to tell, but we’ll hope and see what comes out out of the practices” The man nods before looking down at his notebook.
“And your seat for Alpha Tauri next year, we know you’re apart of the confirmed driver lineup for 2024 but Helmut Marko states that there are attainable clauses in your contract, what do you think about that?”
You’re caught off guard by the question, but right when you’re about to respond, the man continues.
“Surely, Alpha Tauri isn’t really considering keeping you for next season, are they?”
You’re standing in front of the man speechless now, your brain barely comprehending what’s being spoken.
“Because I know the last thing a team wants is an incapable driver that is too emotionally effected by her “traumatic” childhood to race,” the volume of his voice starts to increase, and other drivers are starting to focus on your one-sided conversation.
“I mean, c’mon, no one even believes that even happened to you, and if it did, your parents were probably right for doing it-”
Your hands are shaking, eyes are wide with shock, body suddenly freezing, and you don’t even think you’re breathing. All you can do is listen as this man goes on and on about how you’re a shitty driver and deserved how your parents treated you.
You’re only broken out of your trance when an arm clad in red wraps around your shoulders and pulls you through the paddock. You’re not even aware of the yelling from a certain Mercedes drivers gets quieter and quieter as you’re brought into your driver’s room.
You’re being sat on a couch, and suddenly Charles Leclerc’s face is right in front of you, hands on your shoulders and eyes filled with concerned. “Y/n? Y/n, look at me, please, Y/n-” Your eyes dart to him and in an instant, everything from the past five minutes comes rushing through your head, and you can’t stop the tears that start to fall down your face.
“Oh, Y/n” The Ferrari driver moves to comfort you, but stops as you begin to cover your face and move away.
“No, Y/n, it’s okay, please, let me help you, Y/n” Charles wraps his arms around you in a hug as your body begins to shake with uncontrollable sobs.
“I can’t- I can’t do this anymore, Charles” You say in between breaths.
“I have to quit or something, I can’t keep doing this Charles, I can’t” You let your head fall on his shoulder, as the man tries to calm you down.
Charles’ heart is breaking as he comforts his friend; he remembers loving his first few years in Formula 1, how everything was so new and exciting to him, he could never not want to race, not then and not now. But to hear one of his closest friends breakdown because of how much she hates being there, makes the man’s heart shatter.
The door abruptly opens, and for a moment, all you can hear is the low angry cursing of Lewis Hamilton, until he sees you and Charles, and his face immediately softens.
“Love, I’m so sorry. That guy is a complete jerk, don’t listen to him” The British man says as he takes a seat beside you and wraps an arm around your shoulders.
“I don’t know what to do anymore, I feel so stuck in this place where everyone is always talking about what happened and I don’t know how much longer I can go through it” You say, your voice breaking off with another sob.
Charles hushes you once more, exchanging a worried look with Lewis as you pull away from him again. “I’m sorry, I know I should be doing better and everything but I just can’t-” You say, voice shaky through the tears.
“Don’t for one second be sorry that you’re not competitive right now. Y/n, thousands of people are talking about the one thing that hurt you the most, and I understand why you feel this way, just please, love, for your own good, let us help you. I promise it will make you feel better” Lewis assures, grabbing your hand.
So for the first time, you do. For over an hour, you tell Charles and Lewis everything that happened when you were younger, and how the article has made you feel since then. They listen quietly, nodding once in a while to let you know they understand, and gave you a hug when you stopped talking.
“Do you feel better now?” Lewis asks.
“Yeah, not entirely, but better”
“Good, that’s all I wanted to hear,”
“Are you ready to go home now? There’s a plane waiting for us, if you want”
“Definitely. I need to go home” You say as Charles helps pack up all your things and Lewis makes sure there’s a car waiting for you two outside. As you’re all walking through the nearly-empty paddock, Charles turns to you.
“I have to go back to my garage, but please Y/n, if you ever need to talk, call me? I want to help you, I don’t want to see you like this again” The Monegasque brings you into a hug.
“I know, Charles, I will” You promise.
“Okay, I’ll see you before Vegas, yes? Feel better!” He calls as he moves backwards and further into the paddock.
“You promise?”
Lewis asks you hours later in the front of the airport in England, just about to get into separate cars.
“Yes, Lewis, I’ll call when I need” You say to the older man in a hug.
“Alright, text me when you’ve made it home and make sure you get some rest. Don’t be too hard on yourself either, you don’t give yourself enough credit for everything you do” You smile at him.
“Okay, I’ll see you before Vegas?”
“See you before Vegas!” He shouts from his already-closed car door.
When you do see the two next, they make sure you’ve made an appointment with a therapist and are setting up a meeting with your PR manager to put together a statement in regards to your well-being the past two months.
Charles and Lewis make sure the media inside the paddock is severely monitored and checked before being allowed near the drivers, and help you fall back into healthier habits.
These changes don’t happen overnight, and they don’t take affect overnight, but you do use the winter off season to make sure these changes are helpful and working.
The three month break is utilized to mentally and physically prepare yorself in time for your 2024 seat at Alpha Tauri that was re-confirmed after your P8 finishes in Las Vegas and Abu Dhabi.
The media still knows everything, and you haven’t completely forgotten your childhood, you never will, but dealing with it still gets easier.
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