#Their relationship dynamic is in knots

[vincentmatthews]

Since I did that micro story for @timaeusterrored, I'm so inclined to write Vinessa beating the shit out of Jaxx with a metal bat.

[gojorgeous]

"MINE, MINE, MINE."

pairing: alpha!geto x omega!fem!reader summary: your doctor won’t refill your prescription until you’ve reset your cycle. you’re desperate for that refill, but geto’s not having it. content: MDNI (18+ ONLY), a/b/o dynamics, nsfw, dubcon? (reader doesn’t want a heat but it’s medically necessary (LMAO what)), established relationship, unprotected sex, breeding, praise, pet names, knotting, slight manipulation, dacryphilia, somnophilia, spit, blood, oral (fem!receiving), so much licking and smelling?, geto and reader are just downright feral LMAO, lmk if i missed anything. a/n: have y’all figured out that i have a breeding kink yet… anyway, this is the first a/b/o fic that i’ve ever written but i just read one and was feeling *inspired*. if people want i might do a prequel sort of thing for this that goes more in-depth about how they met and stuff. lmk! also, i have a vampire gojo fic planned hehe get ready bbs. if you want more of my omegaverse fics check out my alpha!gojo fic here! and remember, AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED! divider credit to: @cafekitsune wc: 5.2k

“No.” 

No? You shift in your seat, cold and plastic, sure you must have heard him wrong. 

“I’m sorry?” you ask. You press your tongue to the roof of your mouth, an anxious habit.

“I can’t refill the prescription. I’m sorry, but, frankly, it would be completely irresponsible of me to do so. I’m shocked your previous physician prescribed them for so long.” Fingers find yours and twine them together. Your eyes flash to Geto, but he’s only staring at your new doctor, staring with that furrow in his brow he only gets when he’s worried.

Your new, soon-to-be old, doctor sighs again, running a hand through his thinning white hair. “You need to have a heat as soon as possible, allow your body to recalibrate. Indefinite use of suppressants is dangerous and unhealthy. They are meant to manage your cycles, not stop them altogether.” 

Sweat beads on your palms. He can’t be serious. But it’s his first opinion. Surely there’s another option.

“I-I’m sorry, doctor. I don’t think I’m understanding.” 

Another glance at Geto reveals that he’s frowning now. When his eyes find yours you see the decision there, one he’s already made without you. Your stomach drops.

The doctor sighs and suddenly the walls of the office feel small, tight, suffocating. The twinge of alcohol and chemicals in the air makes your nose scrunch. “Let me say this clearly. I will not refill your prescription for suppressants, nor will any other reputable physician. You have been taking them continuously for far too long. You risk permanent damage should you delay a proper cycle any longer.” The doctor glances to Geto, then back to you. “Go home with your alpha and allow nature to take its course. It’s what’s best.” 

Your eyes widen with realization– you are not leaving this office with what you came for. Your heart pounds and your palms sweat. “Th-that can’t happen, doctor. I need my suppressants. My job- I can’t be out that long a-and Geto can’t either, we–” 

“We will go home,” Geto interrupts, and his tone is final. “Thank you, doctor, for the advice.” 

Geto pulls you to your feet, gently but firmly. He leaves no question about the fact that you’re leaving. You can feel the intensity radiating off him in waves. You ignore it. You turn to your new doctor, silently smiting him. Why did your old one have to retire?

“Doctor, you don’t underst–” 

“Thank you again,” Geto interrupts.

Before you can make another sound, another protest, Geto pulls you through the door, out of the office, and back to the car. He opens the door for you, as he always does, except this time you’re not so eager to accept his chivalry. 

“Suguru,” you bite out. His eyes meet yours, but they are surprisingly gentle. So calm. How is he always calm? 

“Just get in, baby. We’ll talk about it in the car.”

You debate saying no, but you can’t bring yourself to start a fight when he’s being so good. You grumble when you climb in, buckling your seatbelt before Geto can do it for you.

The engine revs to life, but you hardly notice. You’re already scrolling your phone, the search bar reading a simple and straightforward “doctors offices near me”. You scroll right past the first ten, for once in your life wanting a doctor that’s a little sketchy. You scroll further– still not sketchy enough. Someone who’ll give you the prescription you need, even if it’s not necessarily… ethical. Or maybe you could get some on the street? Surely there was some kind of dealing ring for that. There was a dealing ring for everything, right?

“What are you doing?” His voice is soft, but his fingers are tight around the steering wheel, skin stretched tight across his knuckles.

You lift your phone to your ear, dialing the first office that looked relatively shitty enough. “Getting a second opinion,” you answer. 

Suguru plucks the phone so swiftly from your fingers that you hardly even notice it’s gone. You see him end the call and slip it into his back pocket, out of your reach. 

“Hey!” You scramble across the center console, hopelessly grabbing at your lost phone, your last hope. 

Suguru grabs your wrist, restraining you far too easily for your liking. “You’re not getting it back,” he says. His eyes never leave the road. 

Your brows pinch and anger boils in your stomach. “This is not for you to decide. It’s my body.”

He glances at you, unconcerned. Still calm. “And you’re not in a headspace to be making a responsible decision about it, so I’m making it for you.”

Your jaw drops and you pry your wrist free of his grasp. You escape, but you know it’s only because he allows it. “I am of perfectly sound mind, thank you.” 

He shakes his head and sighs. “You’re blinded by desperation.” 

“It’s still not for you to decide!” When you don’t notice any change in his expression, you switch tactics– from anger to honesty. You let your face fall, let your true feelings creep through. “You know how much I hate it, Su.” 

Finally, he cracks. It’s instantaneous, the way he melts for you- the way the soft smile finds his lips and his hand finds yours, twining your fingers together. “I know, but you have to, baby. You heard the doctor.” 

You clench your jaw and avoid the sting of tears behind your eyes. You had heard the doctor, but you weren’t ready. Maybe next month, when you’d had more time to mentally prepare. 

Your skin crawled. You hated it, hated this. You hadn’t had a heat in years, avoiding them like the plague. You hated how vulnerable they made you, how they put you at the mercy of another. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Suguru– you did. You trusted him more than anyone, anything, but you still hated the feeling of being so completely helpless, so completely out of control, even if it was Suguru you were submitting to. 

For most of your life, you’d successfully hidden your omega status. With the help of suppressants, you’d passed as a beta until your early twenties. Then you met Geto. 

You’d met at work. He was cute, beautiful even, you’d thought, but he screamed alpha– and alphas could be dangerous, especially for hiding, unclaimed omegas like you. You’d stayed away as long as you could and, for a while, you were quite successful. You avoided him in the halls, sat at the opposite end of the table in meetings, replied to emails succinctly but politely. All was well until you’d been trapped in an elevator with him one morning, biting your lip anxiously as you waited to reach the twelfth floor. He’d smelled so good that day, perhaps due to an oncoming rut. You hadn’t been able to resist inching closer, taking deeper breaths. Suguru would later tell you that he’d suspected your hidden status, but he had no reason to question you. At least, not until he had you up against the elevator wall with his face buried in your neck. One deep whiff was all he’d needed to know exactly what you were, even with suppressants in your system.

You’d dated for a little over a year, until you’d decided he was the one. Your fingers dust over the mate mark on your throat, the one that had not only made you undoubtedly Suguru’s, but also the one that had revealed to the world exactly what you were. There was no hiding your true identity with an alpha’s scarred mark on your neck. 

Suguru had never seen you through a heat– no one had. You’d taken your suppressants daily, ever since you met him and even long before that. He’d claimed you on a day like any other, no heat necessary. He hadn’t had a rut in all these years, either. When he felt one coming on all he had to do was pop a single pill and all was well– apparently with none of the nasty side effects that came along with your suppressants. Another unfair privilege of being an alpha you supposed. 

“Sugu, I can’t do this.” Your lip is raw from how much you’ve been chewing on it by the time you reach home. 

Suguru softly shuts the door behind you, lifting your twined hands to his lips, gently kissing your knuckles. 

“Yes you can. I know you can.” 

You shake your head. He doesn’t understand– doesn’t know what this will do to you, how it will break you. While you hadn’t had a heat in years, you had experienced them before. You loathed them more than anything, loathed the way your mind was a slave to your body and not the other way around, loathed the way your whole body pulsed and throbbed, loathed the way it made you feel so… weak. “I can’t. It’s-it’s-” Your hands come up to cover your face. You sigh and feel the blush crawling beneath your cheeks. “It’s embarrassing. Humiliating.” 

There’s silence for a moment, and then a soft sight. Suguru pries your hands from your face gently. When you meet his eyes, he’s all business.

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, baby.” 

You shake your head and pull away, pacing. “I don’t want anyone to see me like that, Sugu. Not even you.” 

Strong hands catch your waist, holding you still. “It’s not a question. It’s happening– for the sake of your health.” 

You scoff and shake your head. “It’s not–” 

His thumb presses to your lips with just enough pressure to demand silence. The omega in you coos to listen, to submit– the other part of you reels with annoyance.

“End of discussion.” 

He’s closer now and you can feel waves of his breath skating across your skin. It’s like a drug, one that the primal side of you can never get enough of. Give in, give in, give in, your omega begs. Listen to your alpha… You try not to focus on the fact that he smells good enough to eat. You know what he’s doing– using his dynamic to persuade you, to make you see his way, playing to the omega you can usually hide so carefully.

“Sugu…” you say. You intend to be angry but you trail off when his eyes catch yours. 

“I got you, baby.”

Your heart melts at the words. He waits. Maybe he knows that the smell of his skin on yours is playing tricks on your mind. You wage a battle within. Every instinct urges you to agree and with every passing second it becomes harder to disagree. Perhaps he’s right, perhaps it's time you give in for once. Let him take care of you, your omega purrs. You’re nodding before you realize what you’ve done.

Suguru kisses you quickly, allowing no time for takebacks. When he pulls away he gets to work. He whips his phone from his pocket and you listen to him talking to his boss, your boss, saying that you’ll both be out of work for a week on “family” leave. Your face heats when you realize that your boss now knows exactly what you two are going to be doing for the foreseeable future. Suguru kisses you one last time before he’s out the door, off to get enough food and supplies to last a week. You won’t be leaving your apartment for some time. You don't fail to notice that he doesn’t return your phone before he’s gone.

~

You don’t notice a difference, even after the sun is gone. It’s not surprising, considering you usually take your suppressants at night– it’ll take a little while longer for them to fully exit your system… you hope. When you’re brushing your teeth you stare at the empty prescription bottle longingly. 

You join Suguru in bed. The moment you crawl onto the mattress he pulls you closer into his bare chest. You savor the way your bodies fit so perfectly- like he was meant for you and you alone. His front curls around your back, a leg slotted between your thighs. 

“Feel anything?” he asks. 

You shake your head to hide your swallow. You almost shiver when Suguru buries himself in your neck, inhaling your scent. You feel him harden against your backside. He must be able to smell your approaching heat even before you can. Part of you expects instinct to take hold of him, for him to make a move, but he only presses a kiss to your jaw and holds you tighter. 

“Sleep, baby.” 

For once, you follow orders without a fight.

–

Hot. Too hot. 

When your eyes flutter open, you feel the pounding of your heart, the labor of your breath, and the growing ache between your legs. 

You sit up so fast you see stars, panic flooding your veins. No, no, no, no, no. This was wrong, you’d made the wrong choice. You couldn’t do this. Already, you could feel control slipping from your grasp, your consciousness giving way to something more primal, more feral. You scramble, preparing to stand, to find your phone, to lock yourself away and suffer through this on your own.

“Deep breaths, baby.” 

Only then do you realize Suguru is already awake. He’s behind you, hands on your shoulders, both a comfort and a restraint. 

“Can’t-” Your breaths are ragged and so are your words. “Can’t do this, Sugu-” 

“Yes, you can.” He whispers. He pulls you closer, tighter against him. “You will.” 

You shake your head frantically, tears pooling on your lashes. When you turn, Suguru is staring at your neck, at the mate mark on your throbbing pulse. His jaw is clenched when his tongue darts out to wet his lips. He’s restraining himself, you realize. A glance down reveals he’s already painfully hard in his pants. You wonder how long he’s been sitting there, taking in your scent, waiting for you to wake. No doubt his rut has already been triggered.

His eyes raise to yours and he pauses at the tears that leak down your cheeks. He leans closer, and the scent emanating from his neck makes you groan against your will. His kisses away the tears. Slowly, one at a time. 

“I’ve got you, baby,” he whispers. “I’ve got you.” 

Your body pulls him closer, even as your mind pushes back. “My phone, Sugu,” you panic. “Gotta gimme my phone. C-call a new doctor.” 

He shakes his head and when you start to squirm he only holds you tighter, holds you in place. 

“No, baby.” 

You whimper, seeking the scent gland on his neck against your will. The smell makes your clit throb almost painfully. 

“Sugu, please,” you cry. Tears stream from your eyes, staining your lover’s skin. 

“‘S gonna be okay. Just let it happen. Don’t fight it, love.” 

With each passing moment, you feel your fight slipping further and further away. Suguru rubs at the muscles in your back until you’re slumped against him, pitifully moaning like a wounded animal. It’s not long before your body takes the reins, until you start desperately humping at his thigh, your clit throbbing almost painfully. 

“That’s it. Good girl.” 

Your eyes roll back at the praise and when Suguru grips your waist you cry out at the touch. Everywhere his skin meets yours feels electric. You’re burning, burning, burning. It’s not until Suguru lays you down on your back that you see the sopping patch of slick you’ve left on his thigh. You whimper at the sight. 

“‘S okay, baby. ‘Ve got you.”

Suguru is looking nearly as lost to the lust as you are. Only his willpower and intent keep him from shredding away your panties and breeding your cunt full that very second. He’s never been in the presence of a scent so intoxicating. He’s never been with you, or any omega, through a heat. He thought you smelled amazing before, but now… He is lost to you, lost to the heat he feels emanating from every inch of your skin, to the honeyed scent pouring from your neck, to the slick he sees staining through your panties. His dick twitches in his pants. 

“Love you so much, baby. Gonna take such good care of ya,” he whispers. Instinct drives him forward until he’s plastered his lips to your jaw, licking and biting at the skin. You nearly scream at the sensation. You feel his touch everywhere, all at once. With your last coherent thoughts you know that this heat will be unlike any other you’ve ever experienced. It’s already so intense you can hardly think, and you’ve only just begun.

“Sugu,” you plead. 

The sound of his name on your lips breaks him. His hand dips across your stomach, thumbing past the edge of your panties until he’s running his finger through your slit, gathering your slick and rubbing it against your clit. 

You scream and thrash, so sensitive it nearly hurts, but he only moves to pin you beneath him, forcing you to take everything he gives. 

“Gonna make you feel ‘s good, baby.” he hums. He’s lost to you, to your desires, to your needs. Every piece of him screams to please you, to take care of you, in every way possible.

He continues his messy circles on your clit and until you’re gasping, hole clenching around nothing, begging to be filled. 

“S-Sugu…” you whine.

The growl that rips from his throat has you arching your back and bearing your throat in an act of submission. You hear a tear and watch your panties hit the floor. Your shirt follows and then you’re completely bare beneath your alpha. His eyes go black at the sight, pupils blown so wide you can hardly see a smidgen of their usual brown. There’s a deep rumble in his chest that has you keening and reaching for him, needing him. He doesn’t waste time. His tongue finds your neck, laving sloppily at your scent gland and the sensation is so delicious that you writhe beneath him. 

His fingers slide down your stomach, dipping between your thighs and rubbing at your clit. The touch is somehow gentle despite the complete and total hunger in his eyes, but it has you whining nonetheless. Every place he touches you, which is nearly everywhere, stings so delightfully that your eyes are already rolling back.

But you can’t wait. You can’t. Your body is starved, rabid, and you know what you need.

“Ssssugu… please…” your words are hardly above a whisper, barely a breath, but your alpha still hears you, still knows what you want, what you need. 

“I got you, baby… shhhhh…” He gives a final lick to your scent gland before he’s leaning back on his knees, parting your thighs wide, exposing your leaking cunt. You can feel a puddle of slick beneath your ass, your hole clenching desperately around nothing, aching to be filled. 

Warm hands slide up your skin and settle on your hips, tugging you a little further down the bed. You whimper, but don’t have time to say anything before you feel him slipping through your folds. A glance down reveals his weeping tip, achingly flushed, bumping and rubbing against your clit. When did his pants come off? You don’t know, you don’t care, all that matters is that the sight steals your breath away. 

“Gonna knot you good, princess.” 

You nod, wanting nothing more than for him to make good on his promise. You claw and grip at his arms, chanting his name endlessly. His chest rumbles again and your thighs part further on instinct. Finally, he gives you what you want. You feel him pressing in, fat tip stretching you wide. One of his hands moves to press down on your tummy and the combination has tears pooling in your eyes. 

He slides in slowly. With every inch you think he must be done, that you can’t take any more. But you can, and you do. When he’s finally fully in your jaw is hanging open in ecstasy and your eyes are rolled back in your skull. His fingers brush your clit and your hips jerk. 

“That’s it. So good, baby. So fucking good.” 

Your tears flood over, racing down your cheeks. He’s over you again, loose strands of black hair brushing your skin and forcing a whimper from your throat. He licks away your tears, lapping at your cheeks like you’re a fucking lollipop. His hips start thrusting in time with his licks, and it’s more than you can handle. Your thighs tremble and suddenly you’re begging. Pleading, whining, screaming for more. He gives it to you. One hand finds yours, twining your fingers together as he pounds into you so hard he’s rattling your skull. He’s licking at your scent gland again, driving you further and further toward a cliff you’re afraid to fall from. You think this orgasm might shatter you, might break you so thoroughly you’ll never be put back together again. You can feel it tightening at your core with each thrust, each lick, each kiss. 

“Fuck,” you hear him growl and whimper at the sound of his voice so close to your ear. “‘M gonna bite you, princess. Gonna mark you up and knot you so good you’ll see fucking stars.” You pant beneath him, unable to word how excited you are by his words, how deliciously they roll across your skin and seep into your spine. “Tell me you didn’t take your pill, baby. Tell me I can breed this pussy full and it won’t go to waste.” He’s not talking about your suppressants you know, but rather the contraceptives you take in tandem with them. Of course you took it, but suddenly something makes you wish you hadn't. “‘M gonna flush ‘em down the fucking toilet. Never letting you take that shit again.”

The primal part of you surges forward at the idea. It chants deep in your mind. Yes, yes, yes…

“Suguuu… please…” It seems like those are the only words your tongue can form.

His lips press to yours, shushing you. “Shhh, baby. Don’ worry. I got you.” He licks across your cheek and down across your jaw until he finds your scent gland again. His thrusts pick up again and you think you might pass out from how good you feel, from how tight your muscles are coiling. You can feel his knot pulsing inside you, preparing to fill you to the brim. You’ve never felt more ready for anything. 

“Sugu–” 

And it’s at that moment that he makes good on his promise. His teeth sink into your neck and you feel your bond snap taut like a string, pulsing with the closeness of your connection. It’s pure ecstasy. Suguru’s knot swells, notching tightly inside you and when you feel his cum pulsing into your womb it’s all too much. You think you must be screaming from the pleasure but you only hear the ringing in your ears as your orgasm washes over you. Your muscles clench, your toes curl, your back arches, you see those stars Suguru promised. Heat tingles through your limbs and down your spine and you think you’ve probably just melted into the mattress. But you haven’t, and when your vision returns, you’re panting and staring at the ceiling. 

Suguru is above you and you can feel him still cumming, still releasing rope after rope of thick, hot cum into you. The sensation makes you groan and he laps at your neck, cleaning up the blood from the new mark he’s just given you. Your consciousness trickles back in, the primal piece of you partially sated for the time being. You remember the context of your situation, why you’re here and not at work, what you’re doing. You’re puzzled by why you’d been so panicked by the idea of a heat before. How could you have been so reluctant, so scared, when nothing has ever felt this right?

Suguru is peppering you with kisses now, pulling you tight to his chest and rolling you both onto your sides where you’ll stay until his knot softens. 

“Sleep, princess,” he says and he uses that tone that always compels you to listen, to please. You happily do as he says and when your eyes drift shut it’s not long before you’re lost to a world of comfortable darkness. 

~

You wake to the throbbing again. All of the pent up need Suguru had sated has returned with a vengeance. You need him again, but it appears he already knows that. 

You feel him between your legs, his hair fully loose now and tickling the insides of your thighs. He’s eating you out, slurping up the cum that’s leaking down your thighs and spitting it back onto your cunt. It’s filthy, disgusting, and you love it.

“Sugu–” you gasp and your hips buck. His eyes lock with yours and the smile he gives you nearly makes you come on the spot. He holds your gaze as he licks one last long stripe over your folds. You whimper and clench around nothing. Empty, empty, empty…

“Sorry, baby,” he whispers against your skin. He’s kissing his way up your body now, leaving little circles of spit that cool when they touch the air and make you shiver. “‘Y smelled so good…” 

You whine and whimper, clawing at his back and leaving scratches you think might draw blood. You’re too worried about getting him inside of you to check.

You’re gasping like you’ve never had a breath of air in your life, like you’ve drowned and every touch he gives you fills your lungs with much-needed oxygen. His hands rub gently at your waist, but it’s not enough. You want him to wreck you, ruin you. You say as much. 

“M-more…” you beg and when he hums against your neck you squirm desperately. Warm hands dig into your flesh and suddenly you find yourself flipped onto your stomach. You feel Suguru behind you, pushing your thighs apart with his knees. His hands find your hips again and lift, propping you up with your face still pressed to the pillows. When you whimper he runs a soothing hand up and down your spine. 

“‘S okay, baby. Relax. Lemme take care ‘ve you.” 

Yes, yes, yes, you think. You don’t think you’ve ever wanted anything more. His fingers dig into your skin, holding you still when he feeds his dick into you, one inch at a time. You cry out, tearing at the sheets and begging for more, even when you already feel like you’re splitting in half. When he’s finally seated inside you he drapes himself over your back, brushing your hair over one shoulder to expose your neck. He leans in to lick you again, thrusting sharply the moment his tongue brushes your skin. You wail, pressing your face to the sheets and attempting to rock yourself back against him. One of his hands smooths over the flesh of your ass as he sets a pace, one that makes you bite down on a pillow to muffle your screams. 

“No.” Suguru uses that tone that makes you listen, that one that calls instinctively to the omega inside you, that urges you to please. He reaches for your pillow, tossing it aside and letting his hand curl around your throat as he continues to fuck you, letting his fingers feel the vibrations of every noise you make. “Let me hear you, baby. Always let me hear you.” 

You nod, eager to make him happy, eager to do as he says. You don’t dare restrain a single sound, eyes rolling back. The angle he has you at has your thighs trembling. He’s so deep, so close. You feel his heartbeat against your back, feel his tongue on your skin, his hand on your throat, his cock at your cervix.

When he groans, you groan with him, feeling his dick pulse inside you, his knot beginning to swell. You need it, need it so bad you can hardly stand it. 

“P-please, please, please–”

He swells inside you, locking your bodies together as his orgasm hits. It’s all you need to find your own. You wail into the mattress, cunt clenching and legs trembling until you collapse, flattening against the beg. Suguru follows you down, wrapping his arms around your waist and whispering in your ear.

“Take it all, baby. Good girl. Take it all…” 

You nod, not even sure what you’re agreeing to. All you can feel is his cum flooding your insides, pulsing and pumping so deep into you that you swear your tummy is swelling with the sheer amount of it. Still, your body wants more, clenching and milking him for every last drop, just like he asked.

When you both come down from your orgasms he pulls you into his chest once again, whispering promises of protection and love that lull you into a trance-like state of happiness. When you fall asleep again, he’s chanting a word that your omega repeats right back to him. “Mine, mine, mine.”

When you wake again it’s to the sound of Geto staying true to his word and flushing every last birth control pill you have straight down the toilet. Your omega surges at the idea, but one mewl from you and he’s back in your arms, like you’re somehow the one in charge, not him. With every passing moment, you being to think that might be true- that perhaps a heat does not makes you as weak as you thought. Your alpha submits as much to you as you submit to him.

The week is spent in a frenzy. You do not measure by the numbers on the clock or where the sun is in the sky, rather you know time only as how long it’s been since Suguru’s been locked inside you. If it were up to you, you’d never stop, but Geto forces you to sleep, to eat, to bathe. Of course, he’s never far away when you’re following his instructions and you usually get a kiss and his knot as a reward for being such a good girl. 

It’s ten days later when your heat finally starts to wane. It feels as though every inch of you is covered in him. Bites, hickies, kisses, cum… no part of you has been left untouched. Suguru has had you everywhere. The bed, the shower, the bath, the kitchen. Every surface in the whole apartment reeks of sex and slick. He never keeps you too far from the bedroom, though, where you’ve piled up mountains of his shirts and sheets. Anything that smells like him, anything that can keep you tethered in those brief moments when Suguru goes to fetch you food or water or run you a bath. He takes care of you, just like he promised. 

When you wake completely clear-headed for the first time in well over a week, it’s to Suguru’s arms and lips. He’s got you all wrapped up in him, his arms locked around your waist almost like he expects you to bolt. You almost do when everything comes flooding back to you, this time with a completely clear conscience. But then he kisses your neck and whispers a delightful little, “welcome back, baby” against your neck and suddenly you’re realizing how… revitalized you feel, like a part of you has finally been properly satisfied after years of waiting. You’d always hated this, always hated the part of you that begged and cowered, hated heats- but maybe with Suguru… they really weren’t all that bad.

taglist (DM me to be added!): @lacheri, @la-undercover-latina

link: alpha!gojo fic

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[yandere-daydreams]

tw - non/con, unbalanced power dynamics, obsessive/possessive behavior, and manipulation.

Guard Dog!Nanami, who's the best security you could possibly ask for. You've been told that hybrids aren't very good for protection, that you'd be better off just getting a regular dog or, better yet, not living alone in one of the sketchier neighborhoods of a notoriously unsafe city, but those people haven't meant your Kento. Stern, stoic, and loyal - he keeps you safe, helps around the house, and doesn't need (or want, for that matter) half of the attention a normal dog would need. Really, it's more like having a personal bodyguard than a pet. You're sure he'd prefer if it if you treated him more like the former than the latter, too.

Guard Dog!Nanami, who'd practically be human if it wasn't for the adorably pointed ears on top of his head, the wiry tail at the base of his spine, and the dull canines you sometimes catch a glimpse of during one of his rare smiles. It's clear that he doesn't consider himself to be like most hybrids, so you do your best to treat him like a roommate - giving him his space, making sure he has his privacy, constantly resisting the urge to run your hands through his hair and apologizing profusely when you inevitably fail. He claims he doesn't mind, not if it's you, but you've seen the way his lips curl when strangers so much as approach him, how he rolls his eyes when he sees other hybrids sitting on their owners' laps or begging for treats. You're not eager to get on his bad side, even if you do occasionally catch him slipping into your bed in the middle of the night.

Guard Dog!Nanami, who's mistaken for your boyfriend at least once a week. It's your own fault, really. He likes to walk you to work, run errands while you're away, all the things a stay-at-home boyfriend would usually do if he were as loving and as attentive as Nanami. It's always embarrassing, even if all you have to do is nod to one of his less-than-human features to clear up the misunderstanding. Still, it happens so often, and you're not proud to admit that from time to time, you don't have the energy to do anything but smile and nod when your elderly neighbor compliments the 'hunk of a man' living with you.

Guard Dog!Nanami, who's less naturally protective than you think he is. He's concerned with your safety, of course, but that's not a privilege that extends to the male coworkers he catches with a hand on the small of your back, to the friends who drag you out of your shared apartment and don't bring you back until the early hours of the morning. He spends more nights than he's proud of standing outside of your bedroom door, listening for any signs of life, waiting for an intruder, or a nightmare - any excuse to cross that unspoken boundary. It'd be more practical to spend his nights on the foot of your bed like every other drooling, filthy mutt hybrid, but that's not the kind of relationship he wants to have with you. Not if you have to think of him as a dog to get there.

Guard Dog!Nanami, who has to fuck his fist three times a day to offset his humiliating instincts. He tried for complete abstinence at first, not to think about you in that context at all, but there's only so many hours of his day he can spend with his knot pressed into his stomach, his cock twitching every time you bend over or brush against him. Still, it's far from a long-term solution. How could it be, when he still cums untouched every time you scratch the base of his ears?

Guard Dog!Nanami, who volunteers to take care of your household chores so he'll have an excuse to root through your laundry while you're away. He's surprised you haven't noticed just how much of your underwear mysteriously vanishes with every load, but even if you were less oblivious, he'd rather you be suspicious of him than ever find the hoard of tattered, stained, ruined fabric he keeps underneath his mattress.

Guard Dog!Nanami, who knows this can't go on for much longer. He loves you, and he respects you, and he knows that you'll never really see him as anything more than a pet, but he's can't seem to bring himself to see you as a master. And, when he's walking you home late at night after yet another unplanned bar crawl, when he's listening to you whine half-coherently about how hard it is to live with a hybrid that's so close to human, he may pass a darkened alleyway and listen to the long-buried, animalistic mind urging Nanami to claim what belongs to him.

Guard Dog!Nanami, who knows that you'll never make a very good master and he'll never make a very good pet. But, that doesn't mean he can't hope that you'll both be better off after your roles are reversed.

[ja3yun]

Guess Who?

puppy hybrid!jake x human!reader x puppy hybrid!sunghoon warnings: smut (mdni), unprotected sex, double pen, sensory deprivation (blindfold), oral (f.rec), fingering, knotting, spanking (slight), petnames (pup, baby, baby girl), poly relationship, includes mlm (kissing and humping), jakehoon are cute and hybrids obvs, not proofread, anything else lmk! w.c: 15.1k synopsis: for your 21st birthday, your two devoted puppy hybrid boyfriends decide to help you celebrate in a way only they know how. a/n: hi! i've been mia for nearly three weeks and i'm so sorry! ofc my return had to be for my baby @yzzyhee's birthday! love of my life, i really hope you like this and you have a great day :(( you make my life a million times better and i am so thankful you were born! i love you! p.s i will never make another hybrid fic again, this shit is hard. comments, reblogs, etc are all welcome!!

You unlock the door, the key clicking softly in the lock, and as it creaks open, a hushed murmur greets your ears.

“Shh, she’s coming!” 

“Shut up, she’ll hear you, you idiot!” 

Your brow furrows as you step into the flat, uncertainty settling in your chest. The room is blanketed in near-total darkness, an odd quiet stretching across the air. Faint shadows dance and flicker as if they’re alive, shifting ever so slightly in the blackness. You hesitate on the threshold, taking a breath- click - the lights burst into life, filling the space with a warm, glowing radiance.

The sight before you takes your breath away. The entire room has been transformed, dressed in delicate pink, black, and white ribbons that cascade from the ceiling in beautiful, sweeping spirals. They trail down walls and weave across the furniture, shimmering gently as they catch the light. A large banner stretches across the far wall, the letters in glittering gold spelling out ‘Happy 21st Birthday!’ in an elegant, swirling font. Balloons hover in the corner, two enormous numbers bobbing amid a sea of smaller ones, all in shades of blush, rose, and cream, softly swaying with each movement of air.

It feels like you’ve stepped into a dream, everything so perfectly curated and thoughtful, the air brimming with sweetness. A fond smile spreads across your face, but your attention is soon drawn to the two figures standing in the middle of the room.

Sunghoon and Jake, your two mischievous puppy hybrid boyfriends, are still bickering, their argument continuing even though you’re clearly in the room. They’re adorably oblivious to your presence, caught up in blaming each other for almost ruining the surprise.

“You were supposed to stay quiet!”

“Well, if you hadn’t stepped on that balloon-”

Their argument plays out like a well-rehearsed comedy act. Jake, with his floppy ears twitching in irritation, points accusingly at Sunghoon, whose pointier ears are now folded back in frustration. You watch with amused affection, knowing full well that this dynamic between them is part of the package. Sunghoon is the more serious of the two, precise and calculated, while Jake is more playful, his carefree nature often leading to these light-hearted clashes. The way their ears move is a telltale sign of their emotions, and you’ve come to love how expressive they are without even realising it.

You stifle a giggle and finally decide to make your presence known, clearing your throat. The sound cuts through their argument, both pairs of ears immediately perking up. Sunghoon’s ears shoot upright for a second before they fold back again in a mix of sheepishness and surprise, while Jake’s ears give an almost comical jump as he turns to face you with wide eyes.

“What’s all this?” you ask, your voice warm but teasing as you gesture to the room’s elaborate decorations. Despite your best effort to keep your tone light, you can’t help but feel touched by the effort they’ve put in.

You had told them not to make a big deal out of your birthday this year. You didn’t want any fuss; after all, you’ve always treated birthdays like any other day. A quiet dinner, maybe a movie, nothing more. But you should’ve known better. The boys are nothing if not loyal by nature, and deep down, they both knew that if you came home to no celebration, especially on your 21st birthday, you’d feel a pang of disappointment, even if you tried to hide it.

As soon as you left for uni this morning, they sprung into action. Skipping their own mid-morning classes, they rushed off to the store. It didn’t take long to find the perfect accessories out of your favourite colour scheme. After just over a year together, they knew you inside and out. They picked out everything meticulously, but what warms your heart the most is the extra effort they put into hand-making some of the decorations.

Sunghoon, ever the perfectionist, probably spent hours crafting the intricate paper flowers that now adorn the table, each one delicately folded with precision. Jake likely took charge of blowing up the balloons, glueing gems and bows to their otherwise minimalist surfaces, and arranging them in a way that screams pure enthusiasm. 

They wanted it to be perfect. They wanted you to feel special because, to them, you are special. The thoughtfulness behind every tiny detail, from the glittering banner to the colour of the ribbons, speaks volumes about how much they adore you.

Your mind begins to drift back to the very beginning, to the day you first met them at the university’s human-hybrid mixer. It had been a nerve-wracking event, designed to help bridge the gap between humans and hybrids, building a sense of community. You weren’t quite sure what to expect, but as soon as you walked into that room and laid eyes on them, something shifted inside you. It was instantaneous, like the world had clicked into place. You hadn’t even exchanged words before you felt the tug - something deep, raw, and undeniable pulling you towards them.

Hybrids, you have learned, can experience soul ties with humans. It’s a bond deeper than even the most romanticised ideas of soulmates, more visceral and primal. There’s no logical explanation for it, but once it happens, it’s unbreakable. That’s what had happened between the three of you. From the moment you met, there was no going back.

Sure enough, Sunghoon and Jake felt it too, that sense of loyalty, affection, and devotion that goes beyond anything they had ever experienced. Soul ties like this usually only happen between one hybrid and one human, yet they both felt that magnetic pull to your heart. The day after the mixer, they had sat down together, the atmosphere between them heavy with the weight of this newfound connection. It hadn’t been easy. The bond between them and you was so intense, neither of them wanted to lose the chance to be with you, but they couldn’t bring themselves to fight over you either.

They talked for hours that day, confessing how deeply they felt drawn to you. Neither wanted to step aside for the other, but at the same time, they couldn’t imagine you with just one of them. It wasn’t until the conversation led to you - when they thought about how you might feel - that the solution became clear. It wasn’t about competition or winning you over. It was about all three of you, together.

Being best friends, they always joked about being tied to one another too in some way, whether platonic or not. Their love for one another has been there ever since they first met, not a soul tie, but definitely something. That fact just made their decision final; both of them would have you.

When they finally brought the conversation to you, you’d been surprised, of course. The idea of being in a relationship with two people, much less two puppy hybrids, was a lot to process. But you couldn’t deny the pull. That inexplicable bond had wound itself around your heart, and no matter how much you tried to rationalise it, you felt it just as intensely as they did. Eventually, the apprehension faded, and you gave in to the inevitable.

And now, here you are, standing in the middle of your flat, staring at your boyfriends who have gone to great lengths to make your 21st birthday special. 

Jake is the first to make his move, skipping towards you with the kind of joyful energy that’s distinctly him. His wide, boyish grin grows even larger the closer he gets. He practically leaps into your arms, winding himself around you like an affectionate puppy, arms squeezing you tightly as though he might never let go.

“Happy birthday, Y/N!” he says, his voice filled with excitement, the words almost a little breathless from his eagerness.

You laugh, wrapping your arms around him just as tightly. With Jake, it’s always like this - his hugs are all-consuming, full of warmth and enthusiasm. His body presses against yours, not just with strength but with an earnestness that’s pure and unguarded. It feels like he’s trying to merge your two bodies together, as though the closeness could never be enough. He nuzzles into your neck, his breath hot against your skin, and you can feel the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathes you in, basking in the comfort of your touch.

Jake loves being affectionate, perhaps more than anything. He thrives on physical contact - the soft pressure of your hand against his, the way your fingers thread through his hair, or the way your bodies fit together when he wraps you up in one of his bone-crushing hugs. It’s as if every moment spent apart from you is too long, and when he finally has you in his arms, he can’t help but revel in the feeling of having you close.

His head rests against your shoulder, his floppy ears brushing your cheek as he buries his face into the crook of your neck. There’s a kind of vulnerability in how open he is, how unabashedly he shows his love for you. His body, though strong and lithe, feels almost like a blanket of warmth around you, cocooning you in his affections. He never holds back - whether it’s a kiss, a hug, or just the way he lingers close to you, as if you’re the only thing keeping him grounded.

Sunghoon approaches with a more measured pace, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he watches Jake all but smother you. There’s no rush in his steps - he’s content to let Jake have his moment. He’s always been the more reserved one, the quiet presence beside Jake’s exuberance. But that doesn’t mean he loves you any less; his affection is simply more silent, more subtle, yet just as deep.

When Sunghoon reaches you, he gives a light pet on your head, his touch gentle but firm. Then, with a soft breath, he leans down and places a feather-light kiss on your lips. It’s not hurried or overly eager, but the tenderness in it makes your heart flutter. “Happy birthday, baby,” he murmurs, his voice a little lower, intimate.

While Jake is excitable, Sunghoon’s affection is steadier, more controlled but just as sincere. He’s a border collie hybrid, after all, a little more relaxed than Jake’s golden retriever mix. Sunghoon’s affection comes through in smaller gestures - a brush of his fingers against your arm, a lingering glance, or a kiss placed gently on your forehead when no one’s looking. He’s not as overt as Jake, but the intensity of his love is undeniable, simmering just below the surface, waiting to be felt in those quieter moments.

You shift one of your arms from Jake’s back and lift it to scratch behind Sunghoon’s ear, knowing full well how much he enjoys it. His eyes close slightly, and a faint smile curves his lips as he leans into your touch, savouring the sensation.

“Thank you,” you say softly, looking between the two of them. “Both of you. But you really didn’t have to do all of this.”

Jake’s head lifts from your shoulder, his face full of adoration as he looks at you, his brows pulling together just enough to show how deeply he feels. “We wanted to,” he says earnestly, his voice softening in the way it does when he’s especially emotional. His floppy ears jitter a little as his eyes search yours, a mix of happiness and tenderness reflecting in them.

Standing beside him, Sunghoon nods in quiet agreement. There’s no need for him to say anything; you can feel his love just in the way he gazes at you, calm but unwavering. For him, the effort was never a chore - it was an expression of something deeper, something he couldn’t quite put into words but hoped you’d feel in every ribbon hung, every balloon tied, every delicate touch that went into creating this moment.

You can feel a tightness in your chest as their love surrounds you, almost tangible in the air between the three of you. Your heart swells with emotion, and for a second, you’re not sure what to say. What can you say to thank them for this? Words hardly seem enough to capture the overwhelming gratitude, the pure affection you feel for them both.

Reaching up to your face and breaking the hug, Jake brushes a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his fingertips lingering on your cheek, warm and gentle. His eyes, dark and soft, reflect his adoration for you. There’s a purity in Jake’s love - a kind of innocence that comes with his boundless energy and enthusiasm. He doesn’t need to hide it or temper it. His affection is full-force, all-consuming, and it’s impossible not to be swept up in it.

“We actually didn’t just want to,” Jake says after a moment, his voice still soft but tinged with that familiar playful sincerity. “We had to. You deserve it. You deserve more than this.”

There’s something in the way he says it that makes your breath catch in your throat. His tone is so earnest, his belief in what he’s saying so unwavering, that you feel your cheeks warm slightly under his gaze. Jake has always had this way of making you feel like you’re the most important person in the world - like he’s constantly in awe of the fact that you’re his.

“You know we couldn’t let today go by without doing something,” Sunghoon murmurs, his voice a little lower, more intimate. “It’s your 21st, after all.”

His hand moves to the small of your back, guiding you into a gentle embrace. Sunghoon’s touch is gentle but commanding, like he’s savouring each second of closeness. He doesn’t rush; he never does. Instead, he pulls you into his side slowly, his body warm against yours. 

For a moment, you’re caught between the two of them - Jake’s eager touch on one side, Sunghoon’s soft and subtle presence on the other - and it strikes you just how perfectly balanced everything feels. The way they complement each other is something you’ve come to love more than anything. 

You will never understand why more people don’t have a poly relationship like this. But then again, you three are special, connected by fate.

Pulling back slightly, you look at both of them, a smile tugging at your lips. “You guys are too much,” you say, shaking your head fondly. “But I’m not complaining.”

Jake’s grin stretches across his face, his eyes lighting up at your words. “Good!” he exclaims, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you in for another quick, excited squeeze. “Because there’s more!”

Sunghoon lets out a small chuckle beside you, shaking his head at Jake’s enthusiasm. “We may have gone a little overboard,” he admits, though there’s no hint of regret in his tone. If anything, he seems quietly pleased with how everything has turned out.

Jake steps back, his hand slipping into yours as he tugs you towards the centre of the room, where the table is set up. “Come on, we’ve got cake!”

Yanking you toward the table, Jake gestures you to a spot on the dining table where a heart-shaped cake sits proudly in the centre, stealing the spotlight among the delicate decorations. It’s adorned with soft pink frosting that traces a neat border around the edges, forming a perfect frame for the simple yet heartfelt message written in slightly uneven, hand-lettered icing: Happy 21st Birthday, Y/N. The pink lettering pops against the soft cream-coloured surface of the cake, and small cherries dot the edges, adding a bright touch of red. Around the base, tiny white pearls encircle the cake, giving it a touch of elegance.

Your smile widens as you take in the cake’s beauty. “This is so…” you begin, laughter bubbling up as you admire the thoughtful details. “You guys didn’t make this, did you?”

“Fuck no,” Jake laughs, eyes sparkling with mischief as he swipes a finger across the back of the cake, scooping up a dollop of frosting. He waves it playfully in front of your lips, teasing you with the sweet temptation. “We’re talented, but not this talented.”

Without missing a beat, you lean forward and suck the frosting off his finger, your tongue brushing against his skin. Jake’s ears twitch in excitement, his eyes widening, and his smile turns bashful, almost shy. His floppy ears, always so expressive, bounce with joy as he watches you enjoy the taste. The frosting is sweet, creamy, and delicate on your tongue, the perfect combination of sugary delight and subtle flavour. You nod in appreciation, your eyes flicking between Jake and Sunghoon.

“It’s amazing,” you say, licking the last bit of frosting off your lips. “Thank you.”

Sunghoon, who’s been watching the two of you with a soft, amused expression, steps forward. “We can have some after presents,” he says, his voice smooth and calm. He reaches behind the table, and your curiosity piques as he pulls out three carefully wrapped boxes, each one tied with a neat ribbon.

Your heart flutters with anticipation as you sit down, the three gifts now laid out in front of you. “You guys didn’t have to-”

“Stop saying that!” Jake interrupts with a laugh, his tail wagging in spirit if he had one. “Just open them!”

With a smile, you carefully tug the ribbon on the first box and peel back the wrapping paper. The box is sleek and black, and as you open it, a familiar scent hits you before you even see what’s inside. It’s the Prada perfume you’ve been eyeing at the store for weeks, the one you always stopped to test but never quite convinced yourself to splurge on. Your breath catches as you lift the bottle from the box, its elegant design glimmering in the light.

“You remembered,” you whisper, your fingers tracing the smooth glass.

Sunghoon smiles softly, his eyes meeting yours. “Of course we did. We noticed how you always looked at it, and we wanted to make sure you had it.”

“Plus it gives us an excuse you smell you,” Jake adds, already imagining all the ways he can attach his lips to your neck and wrists, engulfing his senses in your new scent. Jake loves to sniff you, to know every note of your aura, it’s intoxicating. He thinks your natural scent is the most delicious though.

You feel a warmth spread through your chest, touched by the thoughtfulness of their gesture. The aroma of the perfume lingers in the air as you place it back in the box, turning your attention to the second gift.

The next box is smaller, and when you open it, your heart skips a beat. It’s a mixtape, decorated with a simple hand-drawn label featuring little doodles of stars, hearts, and music notes. You can’t help but giggle softly as you look over the list of songs, recognising some of your favourite artists immediately - Olivia Rodrigo, Sabrina Carpenter, and a mix of other singers you love.

“We put all your favourites on there,” Sunghoon says, his voice tinged with pride. “And a couple of new ones you might like, or songs that make us think of you.”

You run your fingers over the tape, your smile growing. “This is so sweet,” you say, glancing up at them. “I love it.”

The gift is thoughtful, so much time and effort to select every song, place them in order, and decorate the label. It’s gifts like these that make you feel understood and known, that it’s not just a gift someone bought because they had to get you a present, but a declaration of their adoration and understanding of you as a person. It’s cliche, sure, but you love it all the same and will cherish it for the rest of your life.

You don’t have the heart to tell them you don’t own a cassett player though...

But the third box is the one that truly tugs at your heartstrings. It’s a little larger than the others, and as you carefully untie the ribbon, your eyes land on the softest, fluffiest star-shaped plush toy you’ve ever seen. Its smile is embroidered in delicate stitches, and its squishy texture is irresistible. You can’t help but let out a soft pout as you hold it up, hugging it to your chest with a small pout of delight.

Jake grins, clearly pleased with your reaction, but before you can say anything, he nudges you lightly. “Wait, there’s more. Look inside the box.”

You place the plush aside, curiosity blooming as you peer back into the box. At the bottom, there’s a small envelope. You pull it out and open it, revealing a certificate. Your eyes widen as you read the words, the meaning sinking in.

This is to certify that the star, Vega, in the constellation of Lyra has been named in honour of Y/N L/N.

You look up at them in disbelief, your heart swelling with emotion. “You…you bought me a star?”

And not just any star, but Vega, one of the brightest stars in the night sky. It appears mostly in summer, which is exactly the season you all started dating, the same season in which you saw the beautiful star and marvelled at all its hope and wonder. It represented you, the puppies knew that, you shine brighter than anyone else in their life, and with the sun unable to purchase, Vega was the next best thing.

Jake nods, his eyes filled with excitement. “To show you that you’re always a part of our universe.”

Sunghoon steps closer, his hand resting on the small of your back. “We wanted something that would last forever, just like…well, just like us.”

Tears well in your eyes, not because of the star or the gifts, but because of the love behind them - the thought, the care, the intention to make you feel special in a way only they could. You’re at a loss for words, but your expression says it all. They’ve made you feel like the centre of the universe.

“Thank you,” you whisper, your voice thick with emotion as you look between them.

Jake pulls you into another tight hug while Sunghoon rests his hand on your back, the solid warmth of his presence grounding you in the moment. They’re everything to you, and today, they’ve made sure you know how much you mean to them.

Sunghoon moves closer, his hand steady on your back as his other gently cups your cheek, wiping away the tears that have slipped down without you even noticing. His touch is delicate, and the concern in his eyes makes your heart ache with tenderness. “You’re so precious to us, Y/N,” he says softly, his voice almost a whisper. “I know this might not be much, but I hope you like it.”

You let out a quiet scoff, the absurdity of his words catching you off guard. Not much? How could he possibly think that? This - all of this - was more than anything anyone had ever done for you. The decorations, the gifts, the thought they had put into every detail...It was overwhelming, in the best possible way. You shake your head, a mixture of disbelief and affection swirling within you.

“Not much?” you repeat, your voice thick with emotion. “Are you kidding? This is everything. More than I could have wanted.”

“Good,” Jake exclaims behind you, “Because we aren’t done yet.”

Jake's grin grows impossibly wider as he bounces on his heels, clearly unable to contain his excitement. You tilt your head at him, feigning curiosity. "What do you mean?" you ask, eyeing him playfully.

Leaning into your ear, Sunghoon’s low chuckle sends a shiver down your spine. His breath brushes the sensitive skin just below your earlobe, making your heart race a little faster. “Jake’s set up a few games for us to play. His idea, not mine," he murmurs, his lips grazing your ear in a way that feels both teasing and intimate. "I can’t take credit if you enjoy it,” he adds before nibbling at your earlobe, a subtle smirk playing on his lips. “But if you don’t, I’m definitely not taking the blame.”

His mischievous whisper ignites warmth in your chest, but before you can respond, Jake comes bounding back, arms full of props. He’s beaming, the kind of uncontainable energy that only comes from him in moments like this - utterly contagious.

“Okay!” Jake exclaims, barely containing his excitement. “So, you need to choose between one and three.” He hides the items behind his back, swaying his hips like an eager child waiting for you to pick. His whole body vibrates with anticipation, his floppy ears bouncing slightly as he waits, his grin impossibly wide. He’s so irresistibly adorable like this that you can’t help but laugh softly at his excitement.

You look up at the ceiling, pretending to think long and hard, your eyes dancing with playful mischief. The corners of your lips twitch as you hum dramatically, one finger resting on your chin. “Hmm... let’s go with one!” you announce, drawing the word out for effect.

Jake’s excitement explodes as he reveals his choice: two large, fuzzy fake tails in a variety of colours. Sunghoon’s immediate groan is deep and regretful, contrasting sharply with Jake’s pure glee.

“Not this one,” Sunghoon mutters under his breath, sounding utterly exasperated.

Curiosity piqued, you raise an eyebrow. “What is it?” you ask, looking between the two of them. Their polar opposite reactions have you intrigued.

“Pin the tail on the hybrid,” they answer in unison - Sunghoon’s voice low and filled with immediate regret, while Jake practically bounces with enthusiasm.

Jake clearly had a hand in creating this game and you can't help but laugh as the details slowly click into place. Since hybrids like Jake and Sunghoon, who are part of the newer generation, don’t have tails, Jake had come up with the idea of mimicking a playful, somewhat childish game like ‘Pin the Tail on the Donkey,’ but with a hybrid twist.

"Wait-" you laugh, holding your sides as the image fully forms in your mind, "Is it a butt plug or something?"

Both of them freeze, looking at you with wide eyes and a mixture of shock and disbelief.

"No!" Jake shakes his head so vigorously that his floppy ears bounce wildly. "Blindfolding you and having you wielding a metal butt plug doesn’t sound very safe." His lips twist in playful dismay, but he quickly regains his sunny disposition, his excitement bouncing back full force. “I’ve got little Velcro patches, see? We each take turns, and you try and pin it on us until you get one right.”

You’re still giggling, the absurdity of it all getting to you. “So, I’m pinning tails on you guys?”

“Yes…” Sunghoon groans again, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s...so embarrassing.” He sounds thoroughly defeated, but you know him too well by now. There’s no real annoyance behind his words - just that reluctant indulgence that comes when Jake’s happiness is at stake. And there’s something adorable about how much he’s willing to go along with Jake’s excitement, even if it isn’t to his taste.

Jake skips over to Sunghoon with unrestrained glee and, without any warning, gives Sunghoon’s backside a playful smack, placing the large Velcro circle right where it needs to go. “You’re first, Hoonie!” Jake declares with a mischievous grin, fluttering his lashes at the Border Collie.

Sunghoon sighs, resigned to his fate. “Great,” he mutters, shooting you a look that’s half annoyed, half amused as he walks over to the couch, using the armrest as an X on the ground.

Not wasting any time, Jake turns to you with the blindfold in his hand, eyes gleaming with joy. “Your turn, Y/N.” He steps closer, moving with a deliberate slowness that makes the air between you spark with a new kind of tension.

As he reaches up to gently tie the blindfold around your head, his fingers graze the nape of your neck, sending goosebumps down your spine. His movements are slow, almost sensual. You feel the softness of the fabric brush against your skin as he secures the blindfold, but it’s the way his lips hover close to your neck that really makes your breath catch.

Jake doesn’t stop there. He lets his lips trail a gentle kiss down the curve of your neck, his breath warm and teasing against your skin. “You look so good like this,” he murmurs softly, his voice dripping with playful affection. It’s a mix of excitement and something deeper - something that sends your pulse racing.

If there is one thing Jake loves to do, it’s send your mind in a tizzy. Behind all the fun and gleefulness of his nature, comes those dog-like sexual urges. He changes so rapidly that you get emotional whiplash, only adding to the tingles you feel all over your body. 

This also isn’t the first time he’s blindfolded you, so the memories of those nights with his cock pounding into you as you stare into darkness come flooding back, settling deep into your stomach.

His hands linger on your shoulders, fingers squeezing gently before he steps back, leaving you standing there, blindfolded and just a little breathless.

“You ready?” Jake’s voice is light, teasing, and you can almost hear the grin on his face as he spanks you, much like he did Sunghoon only a minute ago.

You nod, unable to suppress a smile. “Ready.”

With the blindfold in place, you hear Sunghoon shuffle awkwardly in front of you. “This is ridiculous,” he mutters, though there’s a faint hint of amusement in his voice. You can practically hear his smirk, even if you can’t see it.

Jake giggles in the background, clearly enjoying himself. “Alright, baby,” he says, guiding your hands toward one of the tails. “Let’s see how good your aim is.”

As you take a few tentative steps towards Sunghoon, your hand reaches out instinctively, fingers hovering just above his body, ready to feel for the perfect spot. But before you can make contact, Jake’s playful voice cuts through the air.

“No touching! That’s cheating!” he chides, chuckling behind you with a cheeser on his face.

Huffing, you concede to his rules, pulling your hand back and placing it behind your back. You focus harder now, relying on your instincts to guide you. You can hear Sunghoon shifting slightly, likely in quiet amusement at your predicament, but he remains silent, waiting.

With your free hand, you move the tail towards where you think his lower back is, feeling proud of your guess. You press the Velcro onto his body, releasing the fluffy tail with a satisfied nod.

Pulling off the blindfold, you blink a few times to adjust to the light. As your vision clears, you burst into laughter. The tail sits just above Sunghoon’s lower back, nowhere near where it should be. You glance at him, expecting him to grumble, but instead, he’s biting back a smirk, his lips twitching as he stares down at the misaligned tail.

Jake laughs from the side but is supportive, ever your cheerleader. “I think it was okay!” he chirps, always the optimist when it comes to you. To be fair, it was closer than you thought you’d manage.

“Me next!” Jake announces, barely giving you a moment to catch your breath. The game continues, full of light banter and laughter as you go back and forth between pinning tails on Jake and Sunghoon. Each time, you aim for the perfect spot but always fall just a little short, earning chuckles and teasing remarks from both of them.

Finally, after a few failed attempts, you manage to stick a tail exactly where it belongs. You cheer loudly, jumping up and down in triumph. “Knew I could get one!” you exclaim, spinning around in a small victory dance.

As you twirl in triumph, your victory cry still echoing in the air, you catch a glimpse of Jake and Sunghoon exchanging glances. Their smirks deepen, a silent exchange of thoughts that sends a ripple through the room. The laughter fades, and suddenly, the lighthearted atmosphere shifts. There’s a weight to the air now, something simmering beneath the surface. It makes your pulse quicken, a flicker of awareness spreading through you. You feel the intensity in how their eyes trace your movements, lingering a beat too long.

Sunghoon steps forward, his gaze sharp and unwavering, and for the first time in the game, his tone has lost its playful edge. "Put the blindfold back on," he says. His voice, once light and teasing, now carries a gravity that sends a shiver cascading down your spine. It's not a request - it's an instruction. The room seems to tighten around you, the shift in his voice enough to steal the breath from your lungs.

Your fingers tremble slightly as you reach for the blindfold. The fabric feels different this time as you slip it over your eyes, no longer just a tool for the game but something that heightens the tension. Darkness envelops you, and in the absence of sight, your other senses heighten. You feel the thudding of your heart in your chest, the way your breathing speeds up, shallow and anticipatory.

The room falls quiet - eerily so. The only sounds are soft footsteps and the faint rustling of fabric, too faint to locate. Without your sight, every shift in the air feels magnified, every sound sharper. The unmistakable sound of Velcro tearing apart makes you inhale sharply. You can picture it in your mind, the boys silently stripping the patches from their trousers, and though you can’t see, the tension thickens in your throat. You don’t know what they’re planning, but the unspoken intensity between you all leaves your skin prickling.

So you aren’t playing another round…

The moment you realise the game has shifted is when you feel their warmth surrounding you, enclosing you in a cocoon of sensation. Sunghoon's fingers find your waist, his touch firm yet teasing, while Jake's hands glide against your thighs, his fingers brushing against your skin with an excruciatingly slow reverence. The air feels thick, heady, charged with something that goes beyond playfulness, the space between you electric.

Sunghoon’s breath tickles your ear as he leans in, his voice dropping into a sultry murmur that sends shivers down your spine. "How about another game?" he asks, the dark edge in his tone making your knees tremble.

Your throat feels tight as you try to keep your voice steady. "Sure...what one?" you manage to whisper, though your breath is unsteady, betraying the fluttering anticipation in your chest.

"A guessing game," Sunghoon replies smoothly, and even blindfolded, you can sense the smirk on his lips. His fingers move to sweep your hair aside, gathering it loosely at the nape of your neck. His touch lingers there, sending warmth radiating through your skin.

Jake doesn’t miss the opportunity, his lips finding the tender skin of your jaw. He places soft, deliberate kisses, slow and torturous, trailing down to your collarbone. The warmth of his breath fans across your skin, each kiss building a slow, insistent heat that coils deep within you.

Your voice catches. "What...what kind of guessing game?" you ask, your words shaky, barely holding onto the thread of conversation as their touch unravels you.

"You have to guess which one of us is touching you," Sunghoon explains, his voice dripping with mischief as Jake begins to pull your t-shirt from your body, his lips back on your chest as he kisses gently along the top of your breast and down their valley. His lips pause just below your ribcage, his breath warm against your skin, but the heat building inside you is anything but halted. 

Your breath hitches. You can’t help but let out a soft gasp as Jake’s kisses become more insistent, his mouth grazing your skin, making it impossible to concentrate. His hands hover at the waistband of your trousers, fingertips skimming just above your hips, a teasing, electric touch that sends waves of pleasure through your core. Each kiss, each brush of his lips, sets your nerves alight, and you can barely think straight, let alone guess who’s doing what.

A weak laugh escapes you. "Well, that's obviously Jake," you joke, trying to keep up the banter, though your voice is shaky and thin, completely betraying the desire threading through every word. Jake’s lips move lower still, his kisses drawing along your stomach, each one leaving you more breathless than the last. You can feel his breath, warm and tantalising against your skin, and your heart pounds in response, your body humming with need.

Before you can register just how far Jake has taken you, Sunghoon’s hand cups your jaw, tilting your face toward him. His lips meet yours in a kiss so soft, so slow, it melts away any remaining thought. His touch is tender but commanding, pulling you deeper into the moment as his other hand weaves through your hair. The intensity of his kiss drowns out everything else, making you forget who is where, or even that there was a game at all.

When he finally breaks away, Sunghoon’s voice is thick with amusement, a smile lingering on his lips as he murmurs against yours, "It’s not going to be that easy, baby." His words hold a promise, his tone teasing, yet filled with something deeper, something that makes your pulse quicken. Even though you can’t see the mischievous glint in his eyes, you feel it in the way he pulls back just enough to leave you wanting more.

Then, without warning, Sunghoon pushes you gently onto the couch, the plush cushions sinking beneath you as you fall back. He looms over you, ears perked up into points, his presence commanding and filled with intent. The game is no longer just playful; it’s something much more serious now - something charged with tension and need.

“You need to guess correctly…or else,” Sunghoon’s voice is both teasing and dark, a quiet threat hidden beneath his words. It sends a shiver down your spine, the thrill of the unknown building between the three of you.

“Or else what?” you ask, trying to sound defiant but failing miserably as your voice comes out in little more than a breathless whisper. Your heartbeat pounds in your ears as you wait for the answer, your body buzzing with excitement and wonder.

Jake chuckles from below, his mouth hovering over your waist, his breath tickling your skin as he speaks. “Or else you don’t get to cum,” he says, his voice playful, but there’s a heat beneath his words that tells you you’re night is going to be a long and teasingly painful one.

But then again, that all depends on you and your guessing abilities. 

Sunghoon’s hands glide up your thighs, parting your legs gently as he leans in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “And trust me, baby, you’ll want to cum…” His breath fans across your skin, sending goosebumps erupting along your arms.

The combination of their teasing and your own mounting desire creates a cocktail of anticipation that leaves you dizzy. You’re torn between the thrill of the game and the very real yearning for release. You can feel the heat radiating from both of them, their excitement palpable as they prepare to test your ability to guess who is who.

“Okay,” you manage to whisper, trying to regain some semblance of control. “I’ll try.” You don’t want to give in too easily, but the way their touches make your body sing makes it increasingly difficult to think straight.

Jake giggles, the sound light and carefree despite the charged atmosphere. “Let’s see if you can guess who’s touching you,” he says, still hovering at your waist, the anticipation palpable in his tone. You can feel the warmth of his body radiating toward you, heightening your senses even more.

“Ready for a little practice before the real game begins?” Sunghoon asks, his voice low and seductive. You nod, your heart pounding as the thrill of the unknown rushes through you.

With both of them positioned strategically around you, you can barely keep track of where they are. The game begins with Sunghoon’s fingers trailing down your sides, exploring the curves of your body with a feather-light touch. It sends shivers racing down your spine, and you bite your lip to suppress a moan.

“Who’s this?” he asks, his voice smooth and sultry, urging you to focus.

“Sunghoon?” you guess, feeling the familiar warmth and the teasing nature of his touch.

“Correct,” he replies, a smirk evident in his tone. But before you can fully revel in your success, Jake’s hands slip around your waist, his fingers playing with the hem of your trousers, teasing you with a brush of his lips along your skin.

The golden retriever's long fingers undo your jeans button and pull them down, your hips lifting instinctively to help get them off, showcasing your eagerness to play their game. Jake discards them, tossing them so they hit a few of your birthday balloons scattered on the floor. 

Both of them stand towering over you as you sink into the couch, heart pounding with happiness and anticipation as you breathe out shakily. You hear them switch places a few times, circling one another in an attempt to trick you. But you know your puppy hybrids better than anyone in the world, and you certainly know how they both touch you.

This should be easy. A walk in the park.

Giving each other a look, Sunghoon and Jake both kneel down in front of you, smirks plastered on their faces and excitement evident in their growing members, concealed by their trousers. You can feel their eyes on you, drinking in the sight of you sprawled on the couch, your body reacting to the closeness of their touch. The heat between you all is palpable, and it sends a fresh wave of arousal coursing through your veins.

Without a word, they move in synchrony, their hands gently tugging at the waistband of your thong. One of them, most likely Jake from the playful way his fingers brush against your skin, hooks his fingers into the lace fabric and begins to pull it down. His touch is soft yet deliberate, teasing you with the slow pace as the fabric slides down your thighs.

You lift your hips, allowing them to fully strip you, your skin flushing with warmth as your body is exposed to their gaze. There’s a moment of stillness as the thong hits the floor, and you can feel both sets of eyes on you. 

Sunghoon’s hands are the first to make contact again, his palms gliding over your hips before settling on your thighs, spreading them apart gently but firmly. His movements are slow, measured, and you can feel his breath ghosting over your inner thighs, so close yet not close enough. Jake, on the other hand, remains at your waist, his lips brushing the sensitive skin of your stomach, teasing kisses trailing lower.

They seem to have fallen into a rhythm, taking turns with their touches, each one designed to make you squirm in anticipation. The contrast between Sunghoon’s steady, calculated touch and Jake’s more playful, teasing approach is driving you to the edge, the tension building with every second. You can easily guess who is who right now.

But how much longer?

Gripping your ankles, each of the puppies lifts a leg, placing it gently over one of their shoulders. Their bodies are now intertwined together, making this game more difficult; their voices and touches are all coming from one place, and with your mind set on a high of horny, clouds are forming your judgement.

With your legs draped over their broad shoulders, the pressure of their firm grips against your thighs and the heat of their breath makes it impossible to focus on anything but them. Each breath you take is shallow, and the room feels electric, thick with the tension they’ve woven into the air. You try to steady yourself, but your mind is already spinning, teetering between confusion and desire as they work in tandem.

The hybrid aspect of them is something you’ve become accustomed to in daily life - their heightened senses, and the way they move with an innate grace. But now, their abilities seem even further elevated, their touches more precise, almost animalistic. It’s like they’re hunting you, knowing exactly how to drive you wild without giving you what you crave.

The golden retriever hybrid, starts first, his tongue flicking out to give the lightest of touches to your clit. The sensation is maddening. It’s so gentle you almost don’t know it’s happening, but the effect it has on you is immediate. A ripple of heat shoots through you, making you squirm, but before you can even process the sensation, his mouth pulls away. Your legs twitch, instinctively trying to move closer to any of their mouths, but he keeps his distance, his hands gripping your thighs to keep you still.

Your breath catches as you feel the faintest brush of lips - no, teeth - against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. Jake’s hybrid nature makes his bites more playful, but there’s a sharp edge to it that sends goosebumps over your skin. He grazes his teeth over your thigh before sinking in just enough to leave a mark. You gasp, the sting quickly replaced by warmth, and the pulsing heat of your growing arousal.

And then...they switch. You can’t see them, but you can feel the subtle differences in their movements, yet it’s hard to know who is touching you at any given moment. One of them trails their fingers down your side, slow and feather-light, sending shivers all the way down your spine. It’s the gentleness that throws you off. Jake is usually more eager, a little more frantic, but this touch...it’s deliberate, controlled. It must be Sunghoon, you think, but as the fingers curl around your waist, the next lick to your clit has you second-guessing everything.

"Unfair," you breathe out, your voice betraying your frustration. Their soft chuckles are the only response, and the way they both sound so amused makes your stomach tighten with anticipation. You think you hear Jake’s distinctive laugh, that bright, carefree sound, but then a warm breath against your stomach has your mind spinning again. You can’t keep track of who’s where, their movements seamless, like two wolves circling their prey.

Another agonisingly slow lick - Sunghoon, maybe? - and you buck your hips forward, trying to chase the sensation. Before you can go any further, teeth sink into your other thigh, another mark, another reminder of their strength. His soft, canine growl sends a thrill of excitement through you, but you’re torn between which sensation to focus on - the teasing bite or the flick of a tongue against your most sensitive spot.

Desperate for something to hold onto, your hand instinctively reaches down, fingers tangling in the nearest head of hair, but before you can fully grab hold, a hand swats yours away. “No touching,” Sunghoon commands, his voice low and controlled; it’s too easy if you feel their ears, both hybrids distinctive just by their shape alone. You drop your hands, frustrated but obedient, gripping the cushions beneath you instead as you moan out in helpless need.

They switch again, and now there’s no way to tell who is doing what. Jake’s usually sloppy enthusiasm and Sunghoon’s precise control blend together so seamlessly it feels like they’re working as one. The sensation of their tongues flicking against you is almost maddening. Slow, singular licks that keep you on the edge, but never quite tipping you over. It’s a maddening torment, like a slow burn just beneath your skin.

The heat between your legs grows unbearable as their tongues move with the same deliberate, precise motions, as if they know exactly how to keep you guessing. They’re hybrids, after all - capable of teasing you with both their human intelligence and their canine prowess. And they’re using every bit of that duality to toy with you, their mouths working in a rhythm that’s far too coordinated for your sanity.

A hand moves between your legs, and fingers slide into you slowly, drawing out a long, drawn-out moan from your lips. The stretch feels heavenly, but the pace is infuriating. One finger curls inside you, and your mind races. Sunghoon always moves like this, calculated, hitting the exact spot that makes you see stars. You gasp his name, “Sunghoon,” the word tumbling from your lips in a breathy moan.

The fingers pause for a moment before continuing, confirming your guess with a small squeeze on your thigh, but there’s no verbal answer. Instead, the teasing continues as Jake’s mouth returns to your clit, adding just enough pressure to keep you gasping, but not enough to let you cum.

The world around you fades, a haze settling over your mind as the pleasure intensifies. The rhythmic lapping of two tongues against your folds creates a symphony of sensations that overwhelms your senses. Both Jake and Sunghoon kiss your heat, growling into you as your juices melt along their tongues. It’s as if they’ve perfectly synced their movements, each flick and swirl of their tongues igniting a fire deep within you.

Jake’s mouth works expertly against your clit, the pressure alternating between firm and feather-light, sending shockwaves of bliss coursing through your body. You can barely keep track of who’s who anymore, their hybrid natures blurring the lines between their human dexterity and animalistic instincts. One moment, you feel the warmth of Sunghoon’s fingers curling deep inside you, stretching you, filling you in a way that makes your back arch and your breaths come out in desperate gasps. The next, Jake’s playful tongue sweeps over you, teasing and tantalising, each movement pushing you closer to the edge.

As more fingers sink into your heat, the delicious stretch turns into something euphoric, each thrust inside you mixing with the delightful flick of tongues around your clit. Your body responds instinctively, thrusting forward, seeking more as you become lost in the sensations they’re creating. It’s an exquisite torture, every nerve ending alight, every touch sending you spiralling deeper into a world of pleasure.

“Please,” you beg, the word slipping from your lips in a breathless whimper, but it’s swallowed by the sounds of their movements. You’re a mess of need and desire, the heat pooling in your core building to an unbearable level as they work you closer to the edge. It’s like they’re reading your body, understanding the ebb and flow of your pleasure better than you do yourself.

Sunghoon focuses on his fingers scissor inside you, curling just right, while Jake alternates between suckling and licking your clit, ensuring that every sensation is heightened. You can feel your climax tightening, like a coiled spring ready to snap, but just as you think you’re about to tumble over, they pull back slightly, slowing their pace to keep you hovering right on the brink.

“God, don’t stop!” you cry out, the frustration laced with desperation. They only chuckle, the sound low and teasing, as if relishing in your torment. It’s maddening, and yet, it sends another wave of heat coursing through you.

Then, with no warning, they both lean in closer, their mouths working in unison, each tongue exploring every inch of you. It’s as if they’ve forgotten all the rules of teasing and have decided to push you over the edge together. The sensation is overwhelming, the combination of their soft, wet tongues swirling around your sensitive core and the expert thrusts of Sunghoon’s fingers. You feel your body arching, trembling under their skilled ministrations as your mind starts to blur, the world outside slipping away completely.

“Y/N…guess, baby,” Sunghoon whispers, but it’s muffled by the rush of blood in your ears. You’re too far gone, too lost in the sensations to respond, too consumed by the need surging through you.

With every lap of their tongues, every curl of their fingers, they bring you closer and closer to that precipice. You can feel it building, a tight knot of pleasure coiling within you, and as they pick up their pace, the intensity increases, making your breaths come in short gasps. You’re teetering, just one more push away from falling over the edge into bliss, but they don’t give you that release just yet.

You feel Jake’s mouth pull back momentarily, but before you can process the loss, Sunghoon’s fingers plunge deeper, hitting that sweet spot that has you crying out his name again, louder this time. The sound reverberates off the walls, mixing with the cacophony of your heavy breathing and the wet sounds of their tongues.

“Come on, baby,” Jake urges, his voice low and sultry, but the words barely register as another wave of pleasure washes over you, leaving you breathless. You grip the cushions tightly, knuckles white with the effort to hold on, but it’s becoming increasingly difficult.

Jake’s mouth returns to your clit with a renewed fervour, his tongue swirling around it in that way only he knows how, your guess at the tip of your tongue. His lips seal around you, creating the perfect amount of pressure, sending jolts of pleasure shooting up your spine. It’s a feeling so familiar, yet it never loses its power to make your body melt under his touch.

Your back arches off the couch, a sharp cry escaping your lips. “Jake! Fuck, Jake,” you gasp, the words tumbling out as the sensations crash over you in waves and your final guess is made. Your hands have enough of grasping the cushions beside you and fly to his hair, his floppy ears weaving through your fingers as you tug harshly,, knuckles white, as you try to steady yourself against the overwhelming pleasure surging through your veins.

Growling and whimpering at your harsh pulls, Jake’s body vibrates. His pretty dog ears are sensitive, they love to be nibbled, pulled, and played with. It’s something you and Sunghoon do often, loving the way his voice cracks and chest shakes with happiness.

“Good girl,” Sunghoon murmurs, his voice low and approving, the sound deepening the haze of pleasure clouding your mind. He knows it’s technically both of them that have worked you to the edge, but it’s Jake’s expert tongue that is the finisher. He watches Jake devour you with a smirk, clearly enjoying the sight of you completely at their mercy. His hand slides to Jake’s head, his fingers gently scratching behind Jake’s ears, massaging the sensitive spot just right as you let go of your grip slightly. “You win this round, baby. Cum over Jake’s mouth whenever you want.”.

Jake lets out a soft, deep sound, almost like a purr, and the vibration travels through his tongue, sending shivers through your already trembling body. The added sensation is too much, your whole body responding to the combined stimulation. You can feel the low rumble of Jake’s contentment reverberating through you, the sound mixing with the intense pleasure he’s drawing from your clit.

Withdrawing his fingers from you to allow Jake easier access, Sunghoon licks them clean. His eyes roll to the back of his head as he tastes you, palming himself through his jeans. He knows Jake likes to lap you to completion, so he will always give him that privilege, but man does he wish he would be selfish for once and have you wash over his tongue

Your moans become louder, breathless, your body strung so tightly on the edge that it feels like you’re going to snap at any moment. Jake’s tongue flicks over your clit faster, his lips sucking gently but firmly, keeping you right at the edge. Sunghoon’s fingers in his hair encourage him, the gentle pats turning into slow, methodical scratches, making Jake purr even louder.

The combination of Jake’s relentless mouth and the teasing vibrations drives you wild. Your body quivers, and you gasp as your orgasm starts to build, your hips bucking towards Jake’s mouth, desperate for more. Every flick of his tongue, every hum from his purr sends you spiraling further into pleasure, and you know you’re right on the brink, just a breath away from falling over completely.

“Come on, baby. Let go,” Sunghoon coaxes softly, his tone dark and dripping with satisfaction, knowing full well how close you are.

That’s all it takes. Your body arches, your back lifting off the couch as you finally tumble over the edge. A broken cry rips from your throat as your orgasm crashes over you, waves of pleasure consuming you completely. Your vision blurs and your entire body quakes as the ecstasy pulses through your veins, overwhelming and all-encompassing.

The puppy's tongue slows but doesn’t stop, drawing out every last tremor from your body until you’re left a trembling mess beneath them. You slump back against the couch, chest heaving, your entire body alight with the lingering aftershocks of your release.

Pulling away slowly, Jake’s mouth leaves your sensitive core, but not without placing a few soft, lingering kisses on the inside of your thighs, trailing up toward your hip. His lips are gentle now, in contrast to the intensity of moments before, and each kiss is a tender reminder of the care and attention he’s always given you. Your body hums with the remnants of pleasure, still tingling in the aftermath of your climax.

His breath tickles your skin as he murmurs against your thigh, “The game isn’t over, baby.”

Before you can catch your breath or even respond, Sunghoon’s strong arms slip beneath you. In one smooth motion, he lifts you up, and your legs dangle in the air as he carries you, positioning you over the back of the couch. Your palms rest against the soft cushions, bracing yourself as your body arches naturally, wanting more of them. The fabric presses against your chest, heightening your awareness of every inch of your body. The blindfold remains secure much to your dismay, but you don’t grumble.

Guessing this should be easy, each of their cocks imprinted into your brain, both beautiful but so unique. Jake, who is thick and long, stands straight and always hits that sweet spot deep inside you. Whereas, Sunghoon is skinnier but curved to the right, always angling himself perfectly to drag along your sensitive walls.

Behind you, Jake and Sunghoon exchange a glance, their mischievous smiles fading slightly as the unspoken competition between them resumes. Unbeknownst to you, they square up for a quick, playful round of rock-paper-scissors. A soft sound of irritation escapes Sunghoon’s throat as Jake wins, his tongue sticking out in mock victory as he flashes a grin Sunghoon’s way.

Sunghoon’s furry ears pin back in annoyance, his eyes narrowing, but there’s no real anger in his expression - just begrudging respect for the outcome of their game. “Damn it,” he mutters under his breath so you can’t hear, stepping back to allow Jake to take his place behind you, even though you can practically feel his impatience radiating off him.

Jake wastes no time. His shirt is off in an instant, the muscles of his chest and arms flexing as he throws the fabric aside. The sight of his bare skin, glowing with a light sheen of sweat, makes Sunghoon swallow thickly. His trousers follow, hitting the floor with a soft thud, and you can sense the eagerness in the moves, positioning himself behind you.

Sunghoon, feeling the heat swirl in his blood follows suit, peeling off his clothes just as quickly, though, with an air of frustration, his eyes never leaving the curve of your body bent over the couch. He inches forward, watching intently as Jake prepares to claim you, waiting for his own turn with palpable hunger.

Jake runs his hands over your hips, sliding up your waist as he leans in, pressing a kiss to the small of your back. His warmth engulfs you, and you can feel the hard length of him pressing against you. The anticipation in the air thickens, and your body tingles in response, ready for whatever comes next.

Sliding his boxers down just enough, the golden hybrid’s cock springs free, his hand gripping around it and pumping in glee. He can’t wait to be inside of you. Although you might guess who it is right away, he is going to try and make it difficult, already planning to switch up his rhythm to trick you somehow. 

You feel the tip of a cock press against your aching hole, already desperately squeezing around nothing as you wait in anticipation. You hate waiting, you’ve never been a very patient person, particularly in situations like these, so the teasing from the hybrid behind you is making you mewl out in both frustration and want. It’s not like you can even see anything in front of you to help distract you, the blindfold doing it’s just a little too well.

Creeping up behind Jake, Sunghoon’s fingers dip into the boy’s boxers and pull them down, his body dipping down with them until his face is at Jake’s soft butt. Sunghoon wouldn’t call himself an ass man, he would take your tits over anything else, but something about his boyfriend’s ass just speaks to him, making him want to mark it and bite it. But before he can get too carried away, he has to remember that this is your birthday, and all of his attention should be on you.

That doesn’t mean he can’t have a little fun while you’re preoccupied.

With a smirk on his lips, he places gentle kisses on Jake’s right cheek, then the left, letting his mouth trail up Jake’s back and shoulders, enjoying the warmth of his boyfriend’s skin against his own. Jake turns his head slightly, confusion evident on his face as he tries to catch a glimpse of what Sunghoon is up to, but Sunghoon grips Jake’s hips firmly, preventing any further investigation.

“What are you doing?” Jake whispers, making sure you can’t sneakily figure out that it is in fact his cock two seconds away from pushing inside of you.

Shrugging, Sunghoon pecks the other puppy’s lips. “I’m having some fun…and I’m gonna help you out,” he whispers, the words flowing like silk, so soft that Jake might have missed them entirely if not for his canine senses catching every nuance. Yet, it leaves Jake puzzled, his expression a mixture of confusion and curiosity.

Tilting his head slightly, Jake silently asks for clarity, but Sunghoon nudges him forward with a few gentle fingers at the back of his head. “Focus on her. Make our girl feel extra good,” he instructs, a playful yet commanding tone lacing his voice. It’s not like Jake needs to be told twice, he loves burying himself inside of you, thrusting his hips until you’re a moaning, whimpering mess beneath him.

While they conspire about god knows what, you begin to slide back, pushing onto the cock, trying to devour it out of pure greed and impatience. But as quickly as you feel the delicious bell stretch your hole, it’s quickly taken away from you. It’s fucking infuriating, so much so that you huff out loud and groan.

“This isn’t fair. This is my birthday, y’know,” you point out matter-of-factly, hoping to remind them that today should be dedicated to you, to your pleasure. Surely your 21st birthday should revolve around indulgence, not this agonising denial of the simple pleasures you know both hybrids would willingly give you any other day.

Suddenly, you feel a sharp smack against your cheek, the force of it making your back arch, sending a sting shooting up your spine. “It is your birthday, so you should be grateful Jakey here came up with such a great game for us to play,” Sunghoon growls, his tone deep yet lacking malice. Instead, there’s an undercurrent of authority, a reminder that if you push too far, this delightful game could end before you’ve even begun to enjoy it. “Say thank you to Jake for setting this up for you, be grateful.”

As the sting from his slap dissipates, you feel a gentle hand soothing the reddened mark, an unmistakable touch that could only belong to Jake. He never liked when you received harsh marks unless they were pretty little hickeys; the tenderness he displays is a testament to his nurturing nature, balancing out Sunghoon’s authoritative presence. It’s why the three of you work so well as a couple.

With a playful pout, you huff out, “Fine, fine. Thank you, Jake.” The words slip out, albeit begrudgingly. You are thankful to him, to both of them. No one gives you this sort of effort and love like the the two boys who stand behind you. Plus, they wouldn’t be doing all of this if they knew you were going to hate it. They know fine well that this will be a new game you’ll play a lot more of.

Sunghoon’s assertiveness is a thrill for you, a dance of power and surrender. He’s not entirely dominant, but he definitely holds authority over both you and Jake. You relish this side of him, especially in moments like this, even if you grumble. There’s an undeniable thrill in being commanded, the excitement of receiving praise for your compliance.

As you settle back into the moment, still completely oblivious to who’s cock you are desperatley trying to seek the comfort of, Sunghoon’s hands glide along Jake’s body, guiding him back toward you. The heat radiating off both hybrids sends shivers down your spine, heightening the anticipation of what’s to come. 

Licking his plump lips, Jake pumps his cock a few times, lining it up at your entrance. Although it’s your celebration, the pup suddenly feels like it’s his own birthday, the throb of his cock exhibiting his excitement to be nestled inside your walls. So, without much warning, he slides into you, filling you up so beautifully.

You can’t even try and decipher who it is just yet, the satisfaction of your craving finally being fulfilled is clouding your judgement and your body is only screaming blissful a chain of ‘yes, yes, fuck yes’ into your mind. Moaning loudly, you push back as far as you can, begging with your body for him to stay there for a moment.

Complying, Jake waits until you have adjusted, though with Sunghoon’s fingers scissoring you open earlier, it doesn’t take long for the stretch to turn to comfort and ease. Your cunt is Jake’s favourite thing in the whole world - its taste, the way it moulds perfectly around him, and certainly the way it squeezes his cock. Being a hybrid comes with advantages, and his senses are immensely heightened. While you need a blindfold to be more attuned to your smell or hearing, Jake lives like that constantly. He can hear every breathless gasp coming from your lips as he drags his member along your canal, the ridges of your walls making him feel even better than if he were just human.

Jake starts slow, thrusting in and out of you with agonising deliberateness. He’s trying to catch you off guard, and you can tell by how foreign the movements are to you. None of them have ever fucked you like this before, making it harder to play their guessing game. You have to get this right. If you don’t, then you’ll be denied your release, and considering how perfect your first one was, you don’t want to miss out on multiple moments of euphoria.

Behind Jake, Sunghoon grips his hips tightly, guiding him in and out of you with a fervour that makes Jake groan with pleasure. He feels the pressure building with each thrust, the warmth of your body enveloping him, drawing him deeper into bliss. Each thrust is met with delicious friction, and each drawback is met with Sunghoon’s bulge dry humping him. He can’t help but revel in the sensation. The heat radiating off your skin is intoxicating, and he relishes the feeling of your slickness coating him as he moves.

You’re both utterly consumed by the rhythm, Jake’s mind swimming in a haze of pleasure. Each thrust sends a wave of warmth through his body, and he’s acutely aware of how tightly you’re gripping him, how perfectly you fit around him. The delicious squeeze of your walls makes him ache for more, each movement sending shocks of ecstasy radiating through him. He bites down on his lip to stifle a moan, his brow furrowing in concentration as he fights to maintain control while also surrendering to the pleasure washing over him.

As you move beneath him, your breaths quicken, and every sound you make fuels the fire within him. Your body shifts, pushing back against him, and the way you arch your back sends a rush of adrenaline through his veins. You’re a vision of pure ecstasy, and the sight alone is enough to drive him wild. He finds himself instinctively matching your movements, thrusting deeper with each push, allowing the waves of pleasure to wash over him.

Noticing Jake fall back into his typical frenzied rhythm, Sunghoon bites down on his neck, causing him to whine out, his ears jumping at the sudden sharp pain. “Follow my lead, don’t get carried away. We want this night to last, don’t we?” The dark-haired boy whispers into Jake’s ear, kissing down his neck to soothe the mark. 

Nodding, Jake nuzzles Sunghoon’s cheek in apology, his breath hitching slightly as he feels his boyfriend’s warmth radiating against him. He understands the importance of pacing; you’ve already cum once, and if they want this night to continue, you’ll need time between each orgasm to keep up with their animalistic sex drive. Jake feels a surge of determination to make sure you feel good, his instincts kicking in as he returns to a more measured rhythm, albeit with the primal undertone of urgency that he can’t fully shake off.

Sunghoon’s hands guide Jake’s hips, the pressure of his grip firm yet gentle, reminding him of the control they’re both meant to maintain. As Jake follows Sunghoon’s lead once again, he can’t help but relish the feeling of you wrapped around him, your body clenching as he pulls back before pushing in again. Each thrust brings with it a new wave of pleasure that sends ripples through his body. You feel perfect, and that thought alone is enough to push him to the brink of his own release.

As Sunghoon’s fingers trace the line of Jake’s spine, the hybrid feels the tension within him coil tighter, the electric connection between the three of you simmering with intensity. 

“Go on, baby girl. Guess.”

Not now. You mentally whine as you feel the coil in your stomach build and build. You’re so close and yet you have no fucking clue who’s cock is taking you to the stars. Jake is fast, a little sloppy in the best way but harsh, and Sunghoon is skilled and forceful, but with a sense of gentleness in the way he pulls back.

None of this is happening right now. It’s like the perfect balance of both. 

The way they work in tandem creates a delicious confusion, each of them pushing you toward the edge, yet holding you back just enough to keep you guessing. As your body begins to respond instinctively, you let the sensations wash over you, focusing on the bliss they’re creating together.

You take a few moments, your mind racing as you contemplate your guess, but suddenly the rhythm shifts. What was once a barrage of piercing thrusts transforms into quick, deliberate movements, each one aiming for that perfect spot inside you. The change catches you off guard, sending sparks of pleasure racing up your spine. It feels different, the thrusts more measured and calculated, as if both hybrids are working together to keep you on that tightrope between ecstasy and overwhelming bliss.

Sunghoon smirks as he adjusts his position, shifting behind Jake, holding him impossibly close. The connection between them feels primal, a bond of instinctual dominance as he continues to hump Jake’s ass, matching his movements and melding their bodies together as he joins in on your fun. 

A high pitched whine comes from Jake as he loses rhythm slightly to focus on his own pleasure. Sunghoon is doing most of the work now, using his gyrating hips to guide Jake inside of you at a fast pace. All the while, his hands find their way to your nub, the teasing touch igniting a fire deep within you.

With each rub, the confusion only deepens; the sensations blend into one intoxicating cocktail of pleasure. The fingers work in a back-and-forth motion like Sunghoon does, rather than the circular movements from Jake, drawing sharp gasps from your lips as you struggle to piece together the puzzle of your pleasure. The connection between the thrusts and fingers becomes a symphony of sensation that sends you spiralling.

And you take a wild, semi-educated guess.

“Sunghoon! It’s Sunghoon. Fuck, please let me cum.” The words tumble from your mouth in a desperate plea, and the moment you clamp down around the cock filling you, everything suddenly pulls away from you. It’s as if the universe pauses for a brief moment, the pleasure you were chasing slipping just out of reach. 

The abruptness of it leaves you gasping, the emptiness you feel is aching like no other pain you have ever felt before. The confusion of who was taking you to the stars swirls in your mind. It feels unfair, like a cruel twist of fate on your birthday. The room grows quiet except for you and Jake’s panting. Shit. You got it wrong. But you were sure those were Sunghoon’s fingers…and he was right behind you. 

Wasn’t he?

Turning to face the other hybrid, Jake looks at him with pain and frustration. He was so close to filling you up, giving you the greatest gift of all and yet he was denied it all so suddenly. 

His reaction makes Sunghoon laugh, his hand coming up to pet Jake’s disappointed ears. “I’m sorry, pup, she got it wrong. You made the rules, remember.” 

“Fuck the rules,” Jake pouts, his hand pumping his cock in a desperate rhythm to relieve the ache building within him. “I need to cum.”

“And you will, Jakey. As soon as she gets the next guess right, we’ll all be cumming.” Sunghoon’s voice drips with promise as he pecks his lips gently, easing Jake’s frustration but heightening the tension in your body. The prospect of getting it wrong again sends shivers of anxiety coursing through you. If you miss this chance, you’ll be left not only with blue balls for both hybrids but also with a very frustrated, very needy pup on your hands.

Jake nods in agreement, even if the simmering frustration lingers in his expression. He gently lifts you from your position over the couch, your body tingling with anticipation. The blindfold still obscures your vision, but Jake’s zephyr-like hands are hard to mistake. You feel them guide you, their warmth radiating around your waist. You sit on the couch and await further instructions. God you want to see them so bad, to touch them and cum all over them. That is what you want to wish for on your birthday.

The moment you’re seated, Sunghoon finally discards his boxers, leaving all of you naked and exposed, each member aching with desire and needing release. The air is thick with the scent of lust and heat, and you can feel the tension rising. Both of them sit at either side of you, hands flying to roam over your body. The sensation of skin against skin sends waves of excitement through your body as you shift slightly, feeling the soft cushions of the couch beneath you.

“We’ll make this one so easy for you, baby,” Jake smiles into your neck, nuzzling his nose into you as he lifts the aura of your scent. You smell like a mixture of him, Sunghoon and sex, his favourite combination. 

Sunghoon presses his chest to your back, kissing the other side of your nape. You’re so beautiful and he has been so patient with this night, but he’s losing his control. Border Collie hybrids are very good at self-restraint, yet, all of that resolve crumbles as soon as you are involved. You have a spell over him, call it a soulmate blanket or whatever, but he just knows that he cannot get enough of you.

Jake, ever playful and eager, has grown impatient, his hybrid instincts taking over any sense of restraint. With a low growl, he scoops you into his lap, his thick cock already leaking with precum as it slides teasingly between your folds. His touch is filled with both affection and hunger, and his excitement is palpable in every movement. His retriever nature means he’s always been a little less controllable, but that’s what you love about him.

With the position you’re in, there’s no way you could mistake which one will be inside your pussy and the other taking your other entrance.

At least, that’s what you thought.

When Jake finally pushes into you, a loud, blissful moan escapes him, his chest vibrating with a purr of contentment. His big hands grasp your waist, guiding you up and down his length with a rhythm that has you arching back in pleasure. Your head falls against his shoulder, your breath coming out in soft, needy gasps.

“Jake, please…” you beg, though you’re not even sure what you’re pleading for. The ache between your thighs is insistent, a sweet agony that makes you feel like you might unravel at any moment. Your clit pulses in desperate need, still unsatisfied from the previous teasing.

Through your blindfold, you feel Jake’s gentle pout even though you can’t see it. “My good girl,” he whispers, his hips thrusting up powerfully, driving himself deep into you. The combination of his praises and his cock pressing perfectly inside you has you trembling in his lap, each movement sending shockwaves through your body.

He captures your lips in a tender kiss, slow at first, teasing you by pulling away when you silently beg for more. The softness of his lips against yours creates a stark contrast to the intense heat building between you both, and soon, you’re lost in the intimacy of the moment, despite the raw need in your body.

Meanwhile, Sunghoon has been watching with adoration, his pointed ears twitching as he observes the two of you. He loved to see the two of his partners connect like this, the scenes so sweet despite the crude nature of your actions. But his cock is hard, throbbing with a need that matches his longing gaze and he refuses to sit in the sidelines much longer. He shifts closer, the heat from his body making your skin prickle in anticipation. He’s been waiting patiently, but now, his own desire overtakes him.

He moves behind you, hands gentle but firm as he guides his cock into position, the tip pressing against you in a way that takes you by surprise, your ass feeling empty despite the expectancy.

“Sunghoon - what are you…” You gasp, your breath hitching as the sensation of his cock pressing alongside Jake’s makes your heart race. The stretching of your cunt is intense, something new and overwhelming, as you feel Sunghoon’s length slowly filling you.

Fuck, it feels good, painful, delicious, and sadistic all at once. And you couldn’t be happier.

Jake’s hands tighten on your waist, holding you steady. “Shh, baby, it’s okay,” he reassures you, though his voice shakes with his own pleasure. The sensation of Sunghoon’s shaft rubbing against his inside you is sending him spiralling into ecstasy. He never imagined sharing you like this would feel so incredible, the friction between their cocks heightening every sensation.

As Sunghoon begins to thrust slowly, Jake’s hips instinctively buck in response, the three of you moving together in perfect harmony. The moans that spill from your lips, mixed with theirs, echo around the room, a symphony of pleasure that fills the space.

Sunghoon leans closer, his breath hot against your neck as his hands join Jake’s on your hips. Without a second thought he tilts his head and captures Jake’s mouth in a heated kiss, their tongues meeting in a dance of lust and affection over your body. The warmth of their connection sends a shiver down your spine, the intimate moment only heightening the heat between the three of you.

Growling into his mouth, Jake brings your hand to his ear, a signal you know all too well. You know exactly what he wants, so you grip his ears and tug harshly, making him open his mouth as he whimpers out and allowing Sunghoon deeper access, his tongue roaming freely around the oldests mouth.

The feeling of both of them inside you, their cocks pressing together as they fill you completely, makes your head spin. The fullness is beyond anything you’ve ever experienced, every thrust making you gasp and cling to Jake’s broad shoulders for support.

Jake’s lips leave Sunghoon’s, panting heavily as he gasps for air. But not for too long, as they hover just above yours again, his breath ragged. He chuckles softly, his voice tinged with amusement and lust. “Take a guess, baby,” he whispers, his lips brushing yours teasingly, “guess who is fucking you and then you can let go.”

Despite the overwhelming sensations, a breathy laugh escapes you, the humour of the moment breaking through the intensity. You look at him, eyes gleaming with love and desire. 

“Both of you,” you manage to whisper, your voice shaky but full of affection. “It’s both of you.”

Jake grins, his lips capturing yours in a messy, needy kiss, while Sunghoon’s low growl of satisfaction rumbles in your ear, his thrusts becoming deeper, more deliberate as he savours the way your body reacts.

The sensation of them both inside you, their movements perfectly synchronised, sends you spiralling closer and closer to the edge. Jake’s pace falters beneath you as his release nears, his grip on your hips tightening, his cock throbbing inside you.

“God, you feel so good,” he groans, his voice hoarse with need. “Just let go, love. You can.”

And that’s all it takes. With his words still hanging in the air, your body finally gives in, the pleasure that’s been building within you crashing down like a tidal wave. You cry out, your walls clenching tight around them both as you’re consumed by your orgasm, every nerve alight with white-hot pleasure. Your body trembles uncontrollably, lost in the intensity of the release.

Jake moans your name, his hips jerking as he finds his own release, filling you with his warmth as he groans into your mouth. His cock pulses inside you, the tip of his cock swelling as he knots, the sensation driving you even deeper into the haze of your climax.

Behind you, Sunghoon’s movements grow erratic, his hips slamming into you as he chases his own end. With a low, guttural howl, he thrusts one last time, his length pressing deep before he lets go, filling you completely as his own release takes him over. 

Both of their knots are pressed against one another, your walls being pushed and hole stretched to its limit. The pups whine and growl as they lock into you, shooting their load so deep inside of you that you feel your stomach swell slightly. Jake’s eyes roll back as Sunghoon’s cock throbs next to his, creating a natural vibration that he’s relishing in.

For a long moment, the three of you remain connected, your bodies trembling in the aftermath, the heat between you radiating in waves. Your breath comes in shallow pants, your body still trembling as the afterglow settles in. Sunghoon and Jake nuzzle their faces into your neck, rubbing their scent over you, claiming you as theirs.

Jake’s arms wrap around you, holding you close as you come down from the high. Sunghoon, still behind you, presses a soft kiss to your shoulder, his own breathing ragged but calming.

And then, with a tender touch, Sunghoon reaches up to the blindfold that’s been covering your eyes. Slowly, carefully, he unties it, the material slipping away to reveal the warm, golden light of the room and the two men who’ve made this birthday one you’ll never forget.

As your vision clears, you blink up at them both, feeling the love and affection in their gazes as they look back at you. Sunghoon smiles softly, his hybrid ears twitching as he leans in to kiss your cheek. “Happy birthday,” he whispers, his voice filled with warmth.

Jake, still holding you in his lap, grins down at you. “Best birthday ever, right?” he teases, his nose brushing against yours.

You can’t help but laugh, your heart full of affection for them both. “Definitely a top 5.”

Jake’s playful grin falters for a moment as something seems to click in his mind. His golden retriever ears twitch with excitement, standing upright as his tail wags behind him. His heart races, and his eyes widen with sudden realisation.

“We have one more gift,” he announces, voice bubbling with enthusiasm. His arms still hold you close, careful not to pull his knot from you, his hips shifting ever so slightly as he reaches around you with some effort. From behind, he produces a small, velvet-lined blue box, and your heart skips a beat.

You blink in surprise, watching him with curious eyes as he offers it to you, his expression soft but brimming with joy. “Open it,” Jake urges gently, his voice filled with excitement, and you can’t help but smile at his eagerness.

With trembling fingers, you take the box and slowly open the delicate lid, revealing the contents inside. Nestled within are three beautiful silver rings, each adorned with three tiny engraved hearts. Each ring is identical, except for the smallest detail—a single heart on each one is coloured in black. The simplicity of the design is stunning, and your heart swells at the sight of them, the meaning behind the gift slowly dawning on you.

You glance up, eyes wide with emotion, shifting between Jake and Sunghoon. “What… What’s this?” you ask softly, your voice barely above a whisper as the weight of the moment settles over you.

Jake’s smile softens as he nuzzles against your cheek. “Promise rings,” he murmurs. His voice is tender, carrying a depth of affection that makes your chest tighten. “One for each of us,” he explains, his hand gently brushing over yours, guiding your gaze back to the rings.

Sunghoon leans in closer, his fingers tracing the edge of the box, his hybrid ears flicking as he adds quietly, “A promise to always be together… no matter what.” His words are soft, but they carry a gravity that tugs at your heart, and his eyes shine with a sincerity that takes your breath away.

You look between them again, feeling the overwhelming love and warmth radiating from both of them, and tears prick at the corners of your eyes. The rings glisten in the soft light, a physical symbol of the bond you share. You can barely find the words, but the happiness on your face says everything.

“I… I don’t know what to say,” you breathe, voice shaky with emotion. But before you can find the words, Jake leans in, his lips capturing yours in a tender, lingering kiss, silencing any further thoughts.

Sunghoon, not to be left out, moves in as well, his lips brushing against yours from the other side, creating a perfect moment of intimacy between the three of you. The kiss is gentle, filled with love, as Jake and Sunghoon share this tender moment with you, the connection between all of you undeniable. Their hands hold you firmly, grounding you in the affection and promise they offer.

As the kiss deepens, the warmth between you grows, the rings in your hand a reminder of the unbreakable bond that now ties the three of you together. You’re all intertwined, hearts aligned, and the future filled with the promise of love, laughter, and unwavering devotion.

It’s a birthday you’ll never forget, not just because of the pleasure shared, but because of the love that wraps around you now, a love that will only grow stronger from here.

_____

perm taglist: @immortalvee @sunpov @heeseungspookie @strawberrysavi @monstanctiny21

@diorsyun @heexzbae @yzzyhee @baekhyunstruly @zeeloveshee

@haechonly @berryblog @no-mannerism @jaehoonii

@notevenheretbh1 @shawnyle @addictedtohobi @jiminie-08

@emberuby @nctislifue @lilyuwon @skzenhalove

@heeshlove @idkdykilr @chocminteu @y4wnjunz @rikibun

@ivesti @parksunghoonsgf @branchrkive @brownsugarbaybee

@xxbluestrifexx @bambangan @iluvikeu @deobitifull

@yawnazzz @st1llm0nster @woorcve @heeseungsbm

@star-hoon @heelee-01 @wonnienyang @alternativelix

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 20: The New Normal

Summary: Your pack settles into a routine as you learn to adapt to the shifting relationships between all of you.

Pairings: Poly 141 x reader, Price x Gaz

Word Count:

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, p in v sex, unprotected sex, threesome, BDSM elements, dry humping, language, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, angst, PTSD, flashbacks, nightmares, smoking, Gaz being the prettiest boy alive.

A/N: Not much to say about this one. Hope it's worth a two week wait...

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

A yelp leaves your lips as your feet leave the ground, your body hitting the floor rather ungracefully. You roll from the force of the impact, stopping flat on your back. You stare up at the ceiling, trying to catch the breath that was forced from your lungs from your impact with the floor. 

“You left yourself too open again.” 

“Well how was I supposed to know which way you were moving?” You say, slowly pushing yourself back up to sit as you catch your breath. 

“You can’t, that’s why you have to keep yourself guarded at all times. Anyone you’re fighting will do worse than that as soon as your guard is down.” 

You stare at Simon’s shoes as he stops a foot away from you. The laces are pulled to the exact same tension on both sides, double knotted to avoid them coming undone and becoming a tripping hazard. Even the way his crew socks are pulled up over the legs of his sweatpants speaks volumes of how on guard he is. Always ready for a fight, always ready so that nothing can get in his way and put him at risk. 

He lets out a quiet sigh as he drops down into a squat in front of you. “How have you been sleeping?”

Your gaze finally leaves his shoes, trailing up his legs to his arms where they rest on his knees. You follow the lines of his tattoos until you reach where his shirt sleeve covers the rest. You work your way up until you reach his mask-covered face, finally meeting his brown eyes. There's a softness to them now you've never noticed before, something you might not have taken notice of now had you not become brave enough to look that deep. 

“Better,” You clear your throat, dropping your gaze to the mat. “But still not great.”

This morning had started with you shaking in Johnny's hold, his arms wrapped tightly around you as he whispered soft reassurances in your ear. The nightmares haven't gone away since your confession, nor have they even really lessened, but at least now you aren’t suffering alone when they wake you from your sleep. At least now your pack knows how to best comfort you when your mind insists on silently torturing you. 

You still haven’t slept alone since they returned, nor have you spent any great length of time in your room. There’s still a lingering feeling of someone watching, of something staring at you from inside the walls. You’ve checked while they were at training for any cameras you might have missed, but you’ve come up empty handed. Maybe it was just the knowledge that your safe space had been invaded causing that paranoid itching in the back of your mind to linger. None of the guys have complained about you staying with them at night, though perhaps you have your confession about your nightmares to thank for that.  

“The nightmares?” Ghost asks, snapping you from your thoughts. 

You nod. “Yeah.”

The risk of them finding out about your nightmares has made you less afraid to sleep, but still the fear of what horrible scene your mind will come up with keeps you awake. You pull your knees to your chest, making yourself small as you sit in front of him. He’s just so big, so broad and bulky, truly the ideal specimen of a perfect alpha. He’s the kind of alpha your fellow omegas at the institute would whisper about. Some big, strong protector who would provide for them and keep them safe and satisfied. 

If only they could see you now. 

Despite the shift in your relationship with Simon, things haven’t changed much. He’s still the quiet, looming figure behind you, posing a silent threat to anyone who might think about approaching you. He still places a hand on your back to steer you, still stands closer behind you than he used to, still looks at you with a softer look in his eyes than you’ve ever seen before. Sometimes you’re tempted to push that boundary first, to lean in and rest your head on his broad chest, feel the muscle under his shirt again. You want to press up against his back while he sleeps and let his warmth seep into your bones. Sometimes when you’re alone and your thoughts begin to run rampant, you think about how you have nothing to fear because Simon would rip the face off anyone who tried anything. 

Of course, he has to be here in order to do that. 

You won’t have to be alone again. John had promised you that much. He’d fight harder to make sure you’re not alone again. Not, at least, for a while if it can be avoided. 

“You’re thinking too much again.” Simon says, pulling you from your thoughts for a second time. 

You stare at him, suddenly realizing he’s moved closer to you. You’re not sure when he did, too caught up in your own thoughts to be aware of your surroundings. It’s dangerous, your ability to sink into your mind and get lost there. You know it and they know it. Yet you can’t help it. It’s safer in your head, easier to exist in a place where you’re in control, where you can predict what’s going to happen next. 

Simon’s hand wraps around your ankle, tugging you closer to him. You fall flat on your back on the mat, body sliding partially under his. He looms over you, settling his weight across your thighs as his hands come to rest on either side of your head. Your eyes are wide as you stare up at him, your heart pounding in your chest, as it usually does when you’re in this position.  

“Now, what do you do when someone pins you?” He asks, the sharpness back in his gaze as he stares down at you. 

Lay here and don’t move, or at least that’s what you want to do currently. He’s just so big and warm, and the way he makes you feel so small under him has your head spinning. How you wish he’d press his body into yours, let you feel him completely. The scents in the air begin to thicken as you find your head tilting back on instinct, baring your throat to him in submission. 

His hand closes around your chin, forcing your gaze back on his. “Focus.” He says, projecting his scent more to try and cover yours. It goes straight to your head, your gaze sharpening just slightly as you stare up at him. The scent of alpha around you has your mind racing in several different directions. You know you should be afraid, but it’s Simon. You know him, you trust him. He’d never hurt you intentionally, but he’s still an alpha. 

The strong musky scent has something in the back of your head prickling, your instincts teetering on the edge of safety and danger. You know the alpha over you, but what if it was someone else? That was the point of all of this, right? You won’t be fighting off Simon or John. It will be someone unfamiliar, someone who wants to hurt you. 

Simon’s fingers leave your chin, trailing down your neck. Your pulse thrums faster as his fingers near the base of your throat. The scent of alpha is strong in your nose. How easily he could slip his hand around the back of your neck and squeeze, rendering you brainless and under his control. 

Your mind goes blank and you move without even thinking. Your fist slams into his side right where he’d taught you to hit. He buckles at the sudden attack and you use his moment of surprise and disorientation to free one of your legs and drive your knee right into his stomach. You push him off of you, scrambling back a couple feet before your mind begins to clear. Simon lays on the mat, almost wheezing as he tries to get the air back into his lungs. 

You flounder there for a moment, watching the giant alpha you had just incapacitated. You don’t know where that came from or how you’d managed it. No, that’s not totally true. You know where the fear had come from, but you also know Simon would never do something like that to you. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” You say, shifting onto your knees in case Simon retaliates, in case he gets angry at you for attacking him. “I don’t know what just happened.”

“The hell are you apologizing for?” He coughs out, pushing himself onto his side. “That was bloody brilliant.” 

You blink in surprise, taken aback by his response. “What?” 

“That’s what you were supposed to do.” He says, pushing himself the rest of the way up onto his knees. “I asked what you should do if you’re pinned, and you did it.” 

You continue to stare at him, not quite sure how to process the sort-of praise from him. He had asked you what you should do if you were pinned, and you had done what you were supposed to do. It hadn’t quite been for the right reasons, but you did do something correctly. You managed to incapacitate him enough to get out from underneath him, and without him going easy on you. 

Maybe the training is working after all. 

“Do that in a fight, you might just give yourself enough time to run.” He says, pushing himself up to stand. “Good job.” 

You continue to stare at him as he passes you, heading to the bench where your belongings sit. You’re still kneeling there on the mat in surprise. You hadn’t expected such genuine praise from him. But why not? He’s doing this to train you, to teach you how to defend yourself against anyone who might want to hurt you. Anyone who’s stupid enough to try something when they’re not here to defend and protect you. 

Something that’s already happened. 

You’ve finally managed to defend yourself, to apply the things he’s spent weeks teaching you successfully. Why shouldn’t he be proud of you for that? 

You’re still getting used to this new side of him, this accepting side, the softness that he’s showing you in his own way. It’s what you wanted, what you’ve been trying to achieve for weeks now, and now that you have it...you’re not quite sure what to do with it. Where does the boundary lie? What if you push too far? Will things go back to the way they were before? Will he shut you out completely? 

Hands slip under your arms, lifting you to your feet. You turn, your head tilting back to stare up at Simon. He’s wearing that emotionless mask on his face, or at least that’s what you picture as you stare up at his eyes. It’s the look he carries the most, giving away nothing and effectively hiding what he’s feeling. You wish you could see his face. You’ve tried to draw up images of what he might look like, what he hides under the mask. He can’t be ugly, at least not totally. Johnny had reassured you of that much, but you wish for just a glimpse more than his chin and his lips when he eats. 

“You’re thinking too much again.” He says, taking half a step back from you. 

“Sorry.” You blink, trying to pull yourself from the depths of your mind once again. 

“Come on. Let’s get breakfast.” He says, tilting his head towards the door. 

You follow him from the gym, his steps markedly slower compared to how he used to walk. Gone are the days of almost having to run to keep up with him. You could almost swear he takes smaller steps too, instead of his normal long, purposeful strides. It’s almost as if he’s out for a stroll instead of being forced into the task of escorting you to breakfast. 

His hand finds your back again as you enter the mess, guiding you through the tables to the line to get food. His palm is warm where it’s pressed against the middle of your back, his fingers splayed, pressing just slightly into your skin through your shirt as an alpha soldier passes just slightly too close to you. 

He still won’t fill your tray for you, but you can respect that. It’s a big step, and only done if there’s interest in courting or caretaking. You don’t expect that level of intimacy from him, certainly not right now. Perhaps never. 

He’s not your alpha. 

He guides you to the table where the others are sitting, and you take your normal spot between John and Kyle. They both shift just slightly closer to you almost subconsciously. Everything is almost a subconscious action now. Simon’s guiding hand on your back, your alpha moving closer to you, the betas keeping you between them whenever you’re with them. It’s a good sign, or at least you think it is. It feels right, a sort of easy flow that has developed between the five of you. One you don’t have to think very hard about. 

“How did trainin’ go?” Johnny asks between shoveling bites of eggs into his mouth. 

“Fine.” You shrug. “Simon threw me across the mat.” 

All eyes at the table turn to him despite your nonchalant tone. It wasn’t the first time it’s ever happened, and you’re sure it won’t be the last. 

“She took me down herself afterwards.” Simon says, not bothering to look up from his porridge. 

Now all eyes at the table are on you. Your cheeks warm and you slowly start to make yourself smaller under their gazes. 

“Had her pinned and she disarmed me enough to get free.” Simon continues, his gaze lifting so he’s staring at you too. 

“Christ, what I would pay tae see that.” Johnny says, grinning widely at you. 

“So training is paying off then.” John says, patting your back gently. 

“Guess so.” You shrug, still feeling a bit bashful under the attention. “Not sure how useful I’d be in a real fight still.” 

“Well, your first defense is trying to escape. Running is always the priority, remember?” John says. 

You nod. Right. Run first. Like you should have opened the window and ran when that beta knocked on your door. Like you should have run when you noticed your door was open. Like you should have run when someone tried to get into your room. 

How disappointed they’d be if they knew how you failed to follow even the most basic instructions. What would have happened if you hadn’t noticed the cameras? Would whoever tried to get into your room that night still have tried to enter? What if the door had been unlocked? What if they had gotten in? What would you have done, then? Try to disarm them enough to run to Dr. Keller? 

That is what you were supposed to do. 

Instead you had been stupid and froze in your fear and let it all happen, and now you can’t even tell them. It’s too late, it’s been too long. They’d be too upset if you confessed now instead of if you’d done it right when they returned. 

You have to bury it now and hope it stays that way for the rest of time. 

John is the one that walks you back to the barracks after breakfast. You don’t remember the last time he walked you to a meal or back from it. Usually he was too busy doing his job, or setting up things, or whatever else it is he does. Walking you back to the barracks was far too menial a task for how busy he is. 

You hold his hand as you walk, close enough that his arm brushes your side with every step. You don’t let go of his hand even when he walks you to your door, keeping your fingers laced as you turn to look up at him. 

“You gonna be alright on your own?” He asks, staring down at you with a soft look in his eyes. 

No. You’re almost tempted to say it, to throw your arms around him and confess, to beg him to keep you close, to stay, to take you with him. Anything so you won’t have to be alone ever again. 

You swallow the lump in your throat as you nod. “Yeah.” 

For a moment, just a moment you think he doesn't believe you. There’s a second of hesitation, a cold chill running down your spine as your anxiety spikes. What if he knows you’re lying? What if he’s testing how long you’ll keep up the charade? How long you’ll try to keep them in the dark about what happened. He knows something is wrong. He can tell.

Your back meets your door as he crowds you in, releasing your hand so he can press both into the wood on either side of you. Something warm stirs in your stomach as you stare up at him, feeling very small as he looms over you. 

He lets out a low rumble in his chest as he leans down. For a moment you’re expecting a kiss, but he moves to the side at the last moment, nudging your chin so it’s tilted up, bearing your throat to him. “What’s got you so worked up, huh?” He murmurs against your neck, his beard prickling the sensitive skin. “Have we been neglecting you for too long?” 

Saying yes wouldn’t be a lie. They haven’t really sought you out in that way since their return. The most you’ve gotten in the last almost two weeks was when Johnny slipped his hand into your sleep shorts, and you returned the favor. John and Kyle hadn’t really even tried to initiate anything, treating you more like you’d shatter into a million pieces if they touched you too much. 

Maybe a good fuck would solve some of your issues. 

It would at least help you forget for a while. 

A quiet moan leaves your lips as John sucks on your mark, the imprint of his teeth scarred into your skin. The mark that claims you as his, bonded to him for the rest of your life. 

Lust and desire burns hot in your veins and you find yourself cupping his face, tugging him away from your neck so you can kiss him. He lets out a growl against your lips as you kiss him like you want to devour him, your hands sliding to his shoulders to tug him closer to you. His hands drop from the door to rest on your hips, pulling you flush against him. You can feel him, his cock hardening through his cargo pants. 

You’d let him take you right here, right now, right in the hallway. You don’t care that anyone could walk in at any moment, anyone would be able to see you. It feels almost like it would cleanse the barracks, free you from the fear in your mind. Allowing yourself to be so vulnerable out in the open could wipe away the worry that there’s someone around every corner, someone watching you. 

Getting railed by your alpha against the very door that separated you from the room that now held your worst nightmares might just fix you. 

But, just like everything else that’s happened recently, you don’t get that chance. 

John’s watch begins to beep in your ear, causing him to pull away from you. You let out a quiet whine as you’re forced apart, suddenly feeling chilled from the loss of warmth against you. 

John lets out a quiet sigh, leaning his forehead against yours. “I have to go.” 

You wish he didn’t. You’re half tempted to beg him to stay, to fuck his job, his duties. You want him to stay, to give all his attention to you, just for a few hours. You want him to erase the fear and the anxiety and fix you. 

“We’ll continue this later.” There’s a promise to his tone that he’s not done with you, a guarantee that you will get to continue this once the day is over, when he can go back to being your alpha instead of a captain. He leans in, kissing you once more. “Be a good girl for me, yeah?” 

You nod, watching him walk out of the barracks, the door closing softly behind him. You lean against your door for a few moments longer before letting out a breath. There’s still warmth swirling in your stomach, your underwear sticking to your damp folds. An idea pops into your head. You don’t want to go into your room, you don’t want to be in there alone right now. 

Instead you head for Price’s room, unbuttoning your pants as you close the door behind you. You strip out of your pants before you climb onto the bed, making yourself comfortable. You’re going to give him a little present, a little something in revenge for leaving you high and dry, a little something to help him look forward to tonight.

Screaming. It’s all you can hear. It makes your ears ring and your head throb. Hands cling to you, nails biting into your skin. Something’s pulling on you, trying to rip you away. You’re stuck in a brutal tug of war. It hurts, but no one can hear you over the screaming. Tears are sliding down your cheeks, blazing a trail along your skin. You shouldn’t be crying, you shouldn’t be upset. 

He hates it when you cry. 

Alphas don’t cry. 

You’re not an alpha. 

You’ve committed the worst sin in his eyes, denying him the perfect pack. You’re a stain on his perfect ledger, a mistake that never should have happened. 

He’s going to make sure you’re wiped from memory, from history, just as he wants. 

“You can’t take her from me!” Your mother’s voice is frantic, her nails biting into your arm as she tries to pull you back into the safety of your arms. 

“She’s no daughter of mine.” Your father’s fingers dig painfully into your other arm, trying to pull you away from your mother, away from your life. He’s going to throw you out like you’re nothing more than trash. 

The screaming gets louder as you’re yanked from your mother’s hold, and you’re not sure if it’s her screams or your own piercing your ears. 

“We have to ensure the success of this program.” The voice has changed. It’s not the cruel hands of your father holding you anymore. “It’s imperative to the future of militaries around the world.” 

“No!” You scream, kicking, fighting, lashing out, but the hands won’t let go. They’re like a vice around you, like a constrictor slowly getting tighter and tighter. 

“All you have to do is be a good omega,” A hand slips around the back of your neck, your skin burning from the touch. The warning is screaming in your head, louder than the screams of protest spilling from your lips. “And do exactly as you’re told.” 

The fingers dig into your neck, your mind flashing for a second before it goes blank. 

“No!” 

You move before you’re even fully awake, sitting up straight in bed. Your hands close around the back of your neck as you curl into yourself, taking a defensive, protective position. You can still feel the cold hand on your skin, the fingers biting into the sensitive spots on your neck. You’re crying, tears and snot dripping down your face as you press it against your knees. 

“No!” Another terrified cry leaves your lips as hands meet your skin, not cold or clammy, but warm and gentle. Your half asleep brain is stuck in your nightmare and can't rationalize the difference, not while you're perceiving everything as a threat. 

“Easy, easy.” A voice says, speaking quietly, calmly. You recognize that voice. It’s not one from your dreams. Arms slowly wind around you, pulling you against a warm chest. “I’ve got you. It was just a dream.” 

Your breaths are rapid and shaky as you slowly begin to come back to your senses. It was just a dream. You’re awake now. You know that voice. 

“Alpha?” You whimper, desperately seeking the confirmation that it’s really him, that you’re really awake and free from your nightmare. 

“I’m here.” He says, clutching you tightly against his chest. “Need you to breathe for me.” He pushes your head against his chest so you can feel his breaths. 

You’re still crying, your breaths catching in your chest almost painfully as you attempt to follow your alpha’s deep, steady breaths. His arms are still tight around you, pinning you against his chest. His beard tickles your forehead as he leans his chin against your head. He’s projecting his scent, the smell of earth and petrichor mixed with the musk of alpha seeping into your brain. 

“Good girl.” He praises you as you begin to relax, your joins unlocking from their stiffened positions, your muscles slowly loosening from how contracted they had been in your defensive position. You could have slipped into distress easily in that position, the level of fear higher than you’ve felt in a long time. 

He loosens his hold on you just slightly as you begin to unravel yourself as you calm down. Your hands are still clamped around the back of your neck, your fingers trembling from how stiffly they’re held against your most vulnerable spot. 

“Keep relaxing.” He says quietly, his lips brushing your hairline. “I’ve got you.” 

He continues to speak to you quietly, letting you work yourself out of your tense, defensive position. You slowly begin to slide your hands away from your neck as your mind begins to clear and you realize there’s no threat to you, nothing waiting just outside your line of vision to attack. Your alpha has you, you’re safe with him, well protected. 

The tears continue to fall, however, as you think back on your nightmare. It had felt so real, maybe because in a way it had been real. You had been pulled from your mother, from your home to the institute, then from the institute to the CIA, from the CIA to here and straight into General Shepherd's lap. 

“Promise me,” You gasp out, your voice hoarse from crying. “Tell me you’ll never scruff me.” 

“Never.” He says, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I promise I’ll never scruff you.” 

You press your face into his chest, breathing out a quiet sigh of relief. He could always go back on his word, he could change his mind, decide you needed to be scruffed. You know it’s foolish, having those kinds of thoughts. He’s never once gone back on his word, never once proved himself untrustworthy to you. 

“I need to know if you've ever been scruffed before.” He asks, the authority slipping into his voice. 

A frown pulls at your brows. You can’t remember if you’ve ever been scruffed before. Was it possible you had, but had been made to forget? Everything you’ve learned about scruffing says you would know, even if you don’t remember what happened after. It’s a very distinct feeling returning to your mind afterwards. It’s just something you’d know.

“No? I-I don’t think so?” You say. “At least I can’t remember, but I think it’s one of those things that you would know if it happened.” 

“I’ve seen it happen, and I’ve seen the aftermath. You would know if it had ever happened to you.” 

His words bring a shred of relief to your worried mind. You don’t want to know, you don’t want to ask how he knows, why he knows. It’s not likely he would have been able to tell you anyway. Just another secret, just another thing kept in the dark. You knew from early on  they’d have their secrets, things they wouldn’t ever be able to tell you. You just never expected to have one of your own. 

You curl up closer against his chest, pushing the thoughts and the guilt hanging over your head away in favor of soaking up the calming presence of your alpha. For a moment, just a moment, you can imagine everything will be alright. What’s in the past will stay there and nothing will come back to haunt you. You can just move on, and pretend like nothing happened. 

You know it’s not true, but for just a moment, you can pretend that it is. 

He hates it. 

He hates the way he feels. 

The subtle change to his heart rate, the way his insides feel like they’re fluttering, twisting. The disappointment eating him when his existence is ignored entirely in favor of those who were brave enough to open up, to allow you in. 

Why is he disappointed? He’s done nothing but brush you off, keep you desperately at arms length despite your attempts to wiggle in through the slowly widening cracks in his resolve. Cracks that were formed by your very insertion into their lives. They were happy, they were fine. Then you came along and fucked everything up. 

The worst part? 

He likes it. 

He wanted to hate you. For so long he fought that desire in him to be near an omega again, to be close enough to smell your sickeningly sweet scent. He tried to hate you, tried to ignore you, push you away from the walls he’s spent decades building up. Walls that threatened to crumble thanks to your very existence. 

He’s not sure when the change happened. It was gradual, a shift in his hatred that became fascination that quickly morphed into something more. Something forbidden. Maybe it was when you submitted to him during training, or maybe it was after your first time with Johnny when his beta had looked far too pleased, and shared the intimate details of what you had done to him far too easily. Johnny’s need to yap had won out and his beta’s words had caused a stirring in his stomach he hasn’t felt in a long time. 

A stirring he’d been able to ignore for so long. 

For a moment, just a moment there had been fleeting curiosity. Would you try to take control with him? What if he let you do it? How long could you keep it up before you tired out and your true nature took over? 

He stuffed those thoughts into the far recesses of his mind, refusing to allow them forward. He’s not getting soft, he’s not going to allow you any closer to his already cracking walls. 

He tells himself that, at least until they leave. Until he sees the effect you have on his pack. The ripples in the bonds, the changes that happen almost as soon as the ramp of the plane shuts, separating you from them for the first time since your arrival. 

He’s a good soldier. He can pretend nothing’s wrong, force the feelings into the back of his mind better than anyone. At least, that’s what he tells himself. 

It had hurt when you ignored him on your return, throwing yourself into Price’s arms desperately and clinging to him like he might disappear. The betas had sandwiched you between them, letting you cling to them desperately as you trembled and cried. It was pathetic, but not quite as pathetic as the bitterness and the sting of disappointment in his chest. 

He tried not to let himself feel it, tried to bury himself in his paperwork, tried to keep the feelings at bay, at least until Johnny had knocked on his door, mattress in tow telling him to get a blanket and head for Price’s room. 

It was Kyle’s idea. Had to be. Kyle is the most nurturing of the four of them, and judging by the state of you, he must have done it because he thought it would help. 

By the time he grew the balls to enter the makeshift nest, the betas had already sandwiched you between them, your form almost smothered completely under Johnny. Price had laid himself out on Kyle’s other side, and the space for him was made up of mostly Johnny’s mattress. It had to have been a deliberate move, meant for his own comfort. Sweet Johnny and his beta senses. He probably didn’t even realize what he’d done. It had just happened naturally. 

It’s at Johnny’s pestering insistence that he climbs into the nest finally, laying stiffly on the mattress behind his beta. It’s been a long time since he’s been in a nest. He doesn't sleep, not much anyway, but neither does Price. Both of them are too awake, too aware, too alert. The betas sleep peacefully and so do you, probably the most sleep you’ve gotten since your heat. 

The warmth in the room gets unbearable fast, the blankets quickly kicked to the end of the mattresses, along with his own sweatshirt. It’s like a sauna, and for a moment he considers opening the window, but he’s too afraid to move, too afraid to disturb the nest. 

It’s when Johnny gets up to go to the bathroom that you finally move, the first time in hours. You roll into the space he had vacated, lips slightly parted as you breathe in and out easily. Johnny, the bastard, takes your empty spot, trapping you between them. He turns his back to you in hopes you stay as still as you had before, which works for a while. At least, until he feels something press up against his back. He goes still, every muscle tensing as you bury your face between his shoulder blades. He should turn over, push you away. He should nudge you back towards Johnny, let you seek out his warmth instead. Yet, he can’t bring himself to move.

He shouldn’t like it. He can’t. He can’t allow you in, he can’t let you past his rapidly crumbling walls. Yet, he does like it. He wants to feel you pressed against him, he wants to see that hidden part of you that had brought his beta to his knees so easily. 

He’s supposed to be keeping his distance, and yet, here you are, forcing your way in again. It almost feels like a silent apology for yesterday, your subconscious picking up on his disappointment, and so now it’s offering him this moment in hopes he’ll forgive you. 

It’s working. 

A quiet breath leaves your lips as you listen to the steady beating beneath your ear. The scent of coconut and saltwater floats in the air, taking your mind far away, back to a different time when things were simpler. Kyle’s calloused fingers trail across your arm, drawing absentminded patterns across your skin. You press your face against his warm skin, your hand splaying across his stomach. You can feel the ridges of his muscles, the way they flex with every breath. 

“What’s on your mind?” He asks, his lips brushing your forehead as he speaks. 

“Just thinking about when we used to go to the beach when I was younger. Back when my dad was stationed in North Carolina for a few months.” 

“You like the beach?” He asks. 

You nod. “Yeah. There’s just something calming about it. I don’t mind the sand and I like the sound of the waves hitting the shore.” 

“We could go to the beach.” He says, making you tilt your head up just slightly. “When the weather’s nicer, closer to summer. Take a few days off, go on a vacation.” 

“You could do that?” You ask, pushing yourself up on your elbow so you can see him fully. 

He smiles at you, his hand dropping to your back. “We do get to go on leave every so often, barring nothing urgent happens while we’re away. I’ll talk to Price about it. We can start making some plans, if you want.” 

You stare down at him, the softness in his gaze, the slight upward tilt of his lips. He might as well have just promised you the world with how he’s looking at you. Tears burn at the back of your eyes as you stare at him. You don’t deserve it, you don’t deserve such kindness, such care after lying to them. You can trust Kyle. He’d be the least angry, at least towards you, if you confessed right now. It would be so easy, but you’re not sure you could stand watching the love and happiness fade from his eyes as you confessed to your stupidity, your deception. 

“What is it?” He asks, his brows furrowing. Of course he’d pick up on the shift of your emotions, the sudden anxiety twisting in your stomach. “We don’t have to go to the beach. We could do something else, or nothing at all.” 

“It’s not that.” You say, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I just...I don’t deserve you. All of you. You’re too good to me.” 

“Oh, love, that’s not true.” He says, gently cupping your cheek. “I think it’s quite the opposite, actually. You’re too good for us. The things we’ve seen, the things we’ve done. We’re not good people, and yet we were blessed with an absolute angel.”

Tears gather in your eyes for a different reason now. You certainly don’t feel like an angel. You’re too broken and you’ve lied and made stupid mistakes. “I’m hardly an angel.” 

“Well, in comparison to us, you are.” He gently presses against your back, drawing you closer to his face. “Our angel, our sweet little omega.” 

A shiver runs down your spine from the way your status sounds from his lips. His hand slides to the back of your head, pulling you down so your forehead is pressed against his. You can feel his breath on your lips, your tongue darting out to wet your own in anticipation. 

He tastes like mint toothpaste, his tongue immediately pushing past the seam of your lips. His kiss steals your breath away, his hand tangling in your hair to keep you in place as he licks into your mouth. Your hand settles on his chest for balance, feeling his heart racing under your palm. 

You shift over him, throwing a leg across his hips as you settle against his chest. His hand releases your hair, tracing a line down your spine to your hips. The shirt of his you had changed into before crawling into bed with him has ridden up, revealing the lacy panties you're sporting underneath. He groans against your lips as his fingers trace over the lace before slipping underneath, tugging them lightly. 

You pull away from his lips, staring down at him. “I’m gonna need more pairs of these at this rate.” 

“We’ll have to take a trip and pick up more.” He grins, snapping the waistband against your skin. 

You bite your lip, pressing yourself up so you’re sitting over his hips. You can feel the growing bulge beneath his shorts as you begin to grind against him. He’s gone commando, your clit catching on his head through the thin fabric. Your hands press into his stomach, feeling the muscles contract as your scent thickens in the air. His hands close around your hips, guiding you as you grind against him. His eyes are hooded as he stares up at you, his teeth sinking into his lower lip. 

You stare down into those big brown eyes, getting lost in the depth of them. If you could melt yourself into him, seep under his skin and become one with him, you would. He might be the most beautiful person you’ve ever laid eyes on. He might as well be sculpted from marble, or pulled right from a piece of artwork. 

You shift so you’re leaning forward, your clit dragging against his stomach as you continue moving your hips. You grasp his chin, fingers digging into his cheeks. “You’re so fucking pretty, it’s not fair.” 

He chuckles, giving you a dazzling, perfect smile. “Thank you, love.” He wraps his arms around you, pushing himself up to sit so you drop into his lap. “But I’m nothing compared to you right now.” 

He keeps you grinding against his lap, his hands squeezing your ass as you soak the front of his shorts with every drag of your hips. Your head falls back as you moan, the friction against your clit quickly pushing you towards an orgasm. 

“Haven’t even touched you yet and got you all worked up. You could cum just like this, couldn’t you?” He nips playfully at your lips, sliding his hand down further to press against your lace covered pussy. 

You let out a whine, releasing your hold around his shoulders long enough to tug off your shirt. He curses quietly as your skin is revealed to him, his hands trailing up your back. 

“Fucking hell, love.” He groans, pushing his hips up into you. 

“Kyle,” You moan his name, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Need you.” 

He curses again, wrapping his arms around your waist for leverage as he flips you over onto your back. He sits up on his knees, trailing his hands down your sides until he reaches the waistband of your panties, trailing his fingers across the lace for a moment. 

“You alright?” He asks, checking in with you. 

You nod, lifting your feet so they press against his chest. “You gonna take them off already?” 

He grins, sliding his fingers under the waistband of your underwear, pulling them down your legs before tossing them to the floor. He parts your thighs to give himself room as he pulls off his own shorts, his cock springing free from the confining fabric. Your mouth waters as you stare at it, your teeth sinking into your lip in anticipation. 

“Fuck,” He breathes as he pushes your thighs further apart, dark eyes glued to your glistening folds. 

He slides his hands down your thighs, his thumb ghosting over your clit. Your hips jerk in response, pushing up against his hand. He chuckles, repeating the motion, watching the way your lips part in a moan. 

“Always so sensitive.” He smirks, pressing his thumb into the bundle of nerves. “Even after Price fucked you senseless a couple nights ago.” 

Your face warms at his words, your stomach fluttering excitedly. Of course they had heard you. You’ve long given up on trying to hide what goes on behind their closed doors. They all know, they already knew from the first night you spent with John. 

He had been rather rough that night, fucking you into the mattress so hard the headboard had scraped some of the prison grey paint off the walls. You had asked for it, though, both of you needing the raw, carnal release it had given you. 

“Yeah, we all heard that.” Kyle continues, slowly circling your clit with his thumb as he speaks. “Sounded like a couple of animals in there. If you hadn’t been screaming his name over and over, we might have been worried he’d mauled you to death. Simon and I had to keep Johnny occupied so he wasn’t tempted to join you.” 

Your pussy flutters at the thought of the three of them together, riled up by you and John. You can almost picture it, Johnny in Simon’s lap, bouncing on his cock while Kyle sucks him off from the front. Or did Johnny submit to both and suck Kyle’s cock while Simon took him from behind? Or was Simon more of a giver and sucked him off while Kyle fucked him? Or did Simon take both of them after making them both suck his cock? 

The endless stream of thoughts has your pussy clenching, slick dribbling out of you as your legs start to shake. It’s almost too much with the pressure against your clit, your body heating from the fire ignited in your veins. 

“Liked that, didn’t you?” Kyle smirks, removing his hand from your clit to lean down over you. “Maybe next time we’ll squeeze you in right in the middle. Would you like that?” 

You nearly cum from his words alone, your hands grasping at his shoulders. “Fuck, Kyle! I need you inside me right now.” 

“So impatient.” He tsks, leaning forward to bite at your lips. “Such a needy little omega.” 

“Please!” You almost sob, lifting your hips to press against his. “I need you.” 

He shushes you, pressing a soft kiss against your lips before sitting back up onto his knees. He shifts slightly closer to you, propping your legs up over his thighs. His hand fists his cock, pumping the hard length a couple times before he drags the head through your folds. You whine impatiently, trying to lift your hips to grind against him but he presses a hand into your stomach, pinning you against the bed. 

“Patience.” He scolds you, sending a shiver down your spine. 

He drags his head through your folds a couple more times before he finally presses into you, stretching you open. You go lax on the bed, relaxing around him as he rocks his hips into you, sinking in deeper with every movement. 

You reach for him as he sinks completely into you, pulling him down so he’s hovering over you. He presses his lips to yours, kissing you softly as you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him as close as you can. His arms slip around your back as he begins grinding against you, his thrusts shallow and soft. It’s so very different from how John had taken you just a couple days ago. Kyle has always been softer, gentler, more passionate than rough and eager. 

You moan softly against his lips, your legs wrapping around his waist to keep him locked against you. You want to get closer to him, but you’re not sure you can get closer than you already are. Bodies pressed together, his cock inside you, lips pressed to yours as he holds you. There’s a prickling under your skin, an urge to devour him, to keep him here forever. He snaps his hips into you harder, his lips trailing down to your throat, sucking at the sensitive skin. You tilt your head to the side, your eyes widening as a gasp leaves your lips. Your fingers dig into Kyle’s side, his head snapping to the side, sensing the disturbance in the room. 

“Don’t stop on my account.” John leans against the closed door, a cigar in his hand. 

You’re not sure how long he’s been there, how he got in without either of you noticing. Kyle especially, since he was usually so in tune with his surroundings. Pride flashes through you at the thought of him being so lost in you, he can’t focus on anything else. The scent of tobacco washes over you as John takes a long drag from his cigar. He must not have been there long, or maybe you’ve just been so caught up in Kyle’s scent you hadn’t noticed. 

Kyle is frozen above you as John pushes off the door, approaching the bed slowly. Kyle shifts above you so he can hold John’s gaze as he stops at the edge of the bed. Excitement swirls in your stomach as you stare up at him in anticipation of what he’s going to do. His hand lifts, dragging down Kyle’s back to his ass. 

John delivers a harsh slap to his cheek, Kyle’s hips snapping into yours in response as a moan leaves his lips. “Did I tell you to stop, soldier?” 

“No, sir.” Kyle grunts out, starting to rock his hips into yours again. 

You watch the change happen almost immediately, the natural shift between them. Kyle’s not in charge anymore, quickly handing over control to John despite the fact he’s the one inside of you. It’s a subtle submission, yet you can sense the changes in them both. 

John massages Kyle’s ass for a moment before shifting so he’s closer to you. You stare up at him, lips parted as you whimper quietly. “There’s my pretty girl.” He praises you as he leans down, brushing his thumb over your lips before pushing it into your mouth. You close your lips around his thumb, sucking on it. “Such a good girl, isn’t she?” 

“Yes, sir.” Kyle grunts, continuing to thrust into you harder than he had been before. 

John takes another drag from his cigar as you moan around his thumb, your hands gripping the sheets as Kyle continues to thrust into you, the head of his cock dragging across that spot inside you from the angle he’s at. Moans slip from Kyle’s lips as you clench around him, his own hands digging into the sheets. Sweat has beaded across his forehead, a droplet sliding down his cheek to his neck, leaving a trail as it slowly drips down his chest. Drool slips out of your mouth around John’s thumb. You want to lick the sweat from his chest. You want to taste him. 

John slips his thumb from your lips, dragging it across your chin, smearing saliva all over your skin. “Look at her.” He says, moving so he’s looking over Kyle’s shoulder. “Drooling already and you haven’t even made her cum yet, have you?” His hand slips around the back of Kyle’s neck, his fingers digging into the sensitive skin. “You gonna make her cum like a good boy?” 

Kyle lets out a moan, his pace stuttering just slightly. “Yes, sir.” He grits out, picking up the pace as he slams into that spot inside you with every movement. 

John takes a step back, continuing to smoke as he watches the two of you. It’s almost too much between Kyle fucking you and John watching. There’s a coil tightening in your stomach, the pleasure intensifying more and more. A fire has started under your skin, your eyes glued to John’s as Kyle pushes you closer and closer to the peak. 

You hold John’s gaze as you cum, your back arching in pleasure. Kyle doesn’t stop, continuing to thrust into you as he chases his own high. 

John waits until your moans have died down before he moves, stubbing out his cigar on Kyle’s nightstand before he grasps Kyle by the hips, stopping his movements. “Switch places with our girl.” He murmurs into Kyle’s ear, Kyle taking a second to breathe before he wraps his arms around you, flipping you back around so you’re on top again as John kicks off his shoes. 

Your hands press into Kyle’s stomach to hold yourself steady, your legs still shaking from your orgasm. John climbs on the bed behind you, his clothed chest pressing against your bare, sweat slicked back. 

“Gonna be a good girl and make him cum?” John says quietly, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. 

A shiver runs down your spine as you nod, starting to rock your hips just slightly. John’s hands settle on your waist, helping you move as you begin to bounce on Kyle’s cock. Kyle’s eyes are wide as he watches you and his alpha, John pressing kisses across your shoulders and neck as he helps you fuck his beta. Kyle’s hands grip your thighs, fingers indenting the skin as he holds on for dear life. 

“That’s it.” John praises you, shifting your body forward just slightly so Kyle’s cock drags across that spot inside you with your every movement. You clench around him, your thighs tightening around his hips. 

“Fuck...” Kyle moans, his own hips bucking up into yours. 

“Gonna make him cum?” John asks, his hands abandoning your hips. One snakes around your stomach to rub your clit while the other slips behind you to squeeze Kyle's balls. 

Kyle lets out a loud moan, his hips snapping up against yours as your walls clamp tightly around him. You can feel the warm ropes of his release spurting inside you, increasing the pressure as you cum a second time on his cock. 

John works you both through your orgasms, your entire body shaking by the time he releases you, pushing you forward against Kyle's chest. You lay there, your cheek pressed against his sweaty skin, ass in the air right in John's face. He watches as Kyle's seed begins to seep out of you, forced out by the aftershocks of your orgasm. He drags his fingers through your folds, gathering Kyle's cum before pushing it back into you. You moan softly from the stretch of his fingers against your sensitive walls, pushing your hips back against his hand.

“Don't want to waste any of that.” John says, nipping at the globe of your ass cheek. “You know Kyle likes to clean you up himself.”

You let out a quiet moan, your pussy fluttering around John’s fingers. You’re about to be in for a very long night. 

NEXT ->

Taglist:

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@protokosmonaut @fruitymoonbeams-blog @blue-blue0 @hindi-si-ikay @thatonepupkai

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@daniblogs164 @mirzamsaiph 

[starryhyuck]

pairing: alpha!soulmate!jeno x afab!omega!reader

words: 2.9k+

summary: your first meeting with the notorious lee jeno sends you spiraling into heat.

genre: smut

warnings: a/b/o dynamics, knotting, breeding kink, cunnilingus, degradation, mating, some public sex

“You’re coming with me to the Governor’s Ball tonight.”

Your eyebrow raises at Hyewon, who is eagerly sitting across from you, practically jumping out of her seat. The Beta in her is naturally timid, so she must be extremely excited to be acting this way.

“And why would I do that?” You ask, displaying no interest in the event. “It’s just going to be a room filled with rowdy Alphas.”

“That’s why we’re going, duh,” Hyewon says as if you’ve lost a few brain cells. “It won’t just be an event with any regular Alpha — these Alphas will be the most handsome and richest of all!”

Hyewon comes from an affluent family that has an expectation of her to marry wealthy. You know she has been trying for years to pair with any man who has millions in his bank account, yet none of them can match her standards.

You, on the other hand, couldn’t care less about finding an Alpha to mate with. You’ve always envisioned yourself with a calmer Beta, someone who had realistic goals and expectations and wasn’t driven by the feral nature of their genetics. Alphas are known for being possessive and dominant, and it just doesn’t seem like an ideal relationship for you.

“Hyewon, I really don’t think that’s my scene.”

“Come on,” she pouts at you. “Do you know how lucky you are to be an Omega? I would kill to present like you and have every Alpha bend to my whim.”

The statement is slightly exaggerated but not entirely untrue. As an Omega, you do recognize that you have more of a leverage with Alphas as your scent is naturally more alluring to them than a Beta’s. However, you have always opposed the idea that Omegas are solely born to satisfy Alphas. They see you as nothing but a hole to fill and a neck to be marked.

Hyewon clutches to your wrist and pleads loudly, drawing looks from other students lingering in the cafe.

“Please, please, please-“

“Okay!” You huff, withdrawing your hand and looking down bashfully. “Fine, I’ll go with you.”

She throws her arms up and cheers happily.

—

Hyewon wraps you in a stuffy, form fitting dress which is covered head to toe in expensive crystals. She insists you have to shine at the event in order to stand out from all the other Omegas in attendance tonight. Despite your indifference, you let her play dress up as she wants.

She tugs you into the lavish Governor’s Ball, where most of the political leaders of your town are gathered. Hyewon’s eyes lock into the Lee family, the most influential household in werewolf existence.

You don’t know much about the Lee family despite their powerful presence, but Hyewon is quick to fill in the gaps. “That’s Lee Taeyong,” she whispers to you as she points to the stoic man standing across the room. “He’s the oldest, and he’s actually nicer than he looks. The one next to him is the middle child, Lee Mark.” The man she points to has a similar bored expression painting his face, slowly swirling his champagne glass to find a source of amusement. You can tell from the lilt in Hyewon’s voice that he is the Alpha she has her sights set on for the night. “And that guy is the youngest, Lee Jeno. Don’t even try with him, he’s a waste of time.”

Your eyebrows furrow at the Alpha, who appears angrier than any other male in this ballroom. You can practically feel his disdain coursing through your veins.

“Why is he so… grumpy?”

She laughs at your question. “I told you, he’s a waste of time. He’s always pissed off at these events for no reason and hates it when any Beta or Omega tries to make conversation with him. He’s the worst Lee brother to mate with.”

Hyewon soon leaves you to your own devices, heading off to try and win Mark over. You awkwardly make conversation with a few other Omegas around you, but they seem more interested in gathering the attention of the Lee brothers than actually engaging with you.

Midway through the event, you head to the bathroom down the corridor to freshen up. You gasp when you turn the corner and suddenly ram straight into someone’s chest. Your champagne glass falls to the floor and shatters across the marble, but that is the last thing you’re concerned about.

Your body suddenly starts to feel like it’s on fire, heat spreading through your core rapidly. You choke and clutch your stomach, glancing up to see the reason behind your misery.

Jeno stands in front of you, eyes blooming red as he drinks you in. You pant and take a step back from him, recognizing the signs of your approaching heat.

But that can’t be possible — your heat isn’t due to come for another few weeks.

“W-What did y-you do-“ You wheeze, embarrassed by the slick dampening your panties.

“Omega,” Jeno says, stern glare painting his face as he reaches for you. “Calm down.”

His fingers brush by your mating gland and you gasp. His touch feels like someone rubbed a match and lit a fire against your skin. You turn and run as fast as you can, reentering the ballroom and darting straight for Hyewon’s figure. Every Alpha’s head turns at the scent of your growing heat, baring their teeth at your lewd display.

“Hyewon,” you beg, clutching her arm. “You need to take me home.”

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

As a Beta, Hyewon can’t smell your growing arousal or detect the signs of you going into your heat. All she sees is her friend with a desperate look on her face. Mark, who is standing across from her, shifts his predatory gaze to you. Hyewon notices the change in him and she quickly pulls you behind her.

“A-Are you going into heat?” She asks quietly.

You nod and whimper. She asks no further questions, wrenching your figure close to hers and locating the nearest exit. She shoves you into the first limousine in the parking lot and shuts the door behind her, shouting your address at the driver.

You grasp her elbow and cry. “Hyewon, this is a strong one-“

A wave of arousal shoots down your spine, causing you to fall deeper and deeper into your subspace. If Hyewon doesn’t lock you in your bedroom soon, you’re afraid you might offer yourself to the first Alpha you see.

“Why didn’t you say you were about to go into heat?” She chastises, grabbing a tissue to dab at your sweltering forehead. “Let me call Jaemin.”

You stop her from taking her phone out of her purse. “N-No, don’t call him. I don’t want him.”

“What? You always use Jaemin for your heats.”

“No,” you shake your head, still unsure of why you’re denying her. She’s right — since your first heat, you have always asked Na Jaemin to come over and take care of you. He was a family friend and never took advantage of you at your worst. However, there’s a sinking feeling in your gut that’s telling you Jaemin is the last Alpha you want to see right now. “Just get me home.”

You barely register Hyewon helping you into your apartment, faintly remembering her guiding you to your bed.

“W-What should I-“

“Please leave,” you say, writhing and desperately pulling at the zipper of your dress to get it off you. “Trust me, you don’t want to see me like this.”

She frowns, her voice filled with concern. “But-“

“Please, Hyewon,” you plead. “Thank you for getting me here but you need to leave.”

You hear the front door close just as you fling your dress to the floor, quickly locating your vibrator in your nightstand. You pull your panties to the side and sigh in relief when you sink the toy into your heat. It only quenches your pain slightly, but it’s enough to simmer down the fire in your belly.

You’re unaware of how much time has passed when there’s another knock at your door. You’re writhing on the bed sheets, begging for another orgasm as your hand has grown tired of lazily pushing your vibrator in and out of your dripping pussy. Your fingers circle your clit slowly as you plead for the moon to end your misery.

You miss the sound of your door rattling off its hinges, mind overtaken by a cloud of fuzziness. Loud stomping echoes throughout your apartment and a large figure invades your room, growling when he sees the sight of you hopelessly twisting your hips to gain any sort of comfort.

A hand wraps around your throat and squeezes, forcing another gush of arousal to leak down your thighs.

“What do you think you’re doing, Omega?” His voice scarily questions, nearly spitting in your face. “How dare you touch what’s mine?”

They used to spread stories of true mates when you were in high school — stories of how when an Alpha meets the destined Omega they were born to be mated with, it would immediately send the Alpha and Omega into their corresponding ruts and heats. You always thought it was some odd wolf propaganda created centuries ago to carry on the belief that true mates still existed. However, as you look at Jeno hovering above you, there is no doubt in your mind that he is your true mate.

The fuzzy parts of your brain start to clear. “J-Jeno?”

He grins, leaning down to lick at the shell of your ear. “That’s Alpha to you. Present yourself.”

You scramble to follow his order, shoving your head into the pillow and arching your ass up in the air. He clicks his tongue mockingly.

“A pretty, submissive Omega. You know, I always wondered what cute little thing I was destined to end up with. I never thought the moon would grant me a beautiful mate like you,” he hums, digits collecting the remnants of your orgasm across your thighs. He groans as he licks the taste of you off his fingers. “You want your Alpha’s knot, baby?”

You nearly unravel at the thought of him filling you deep with his cum, giving you so much of it that it spills out of your tiny pussy.

“A-Alpha,” you whine. “Please Alpha, please knot me.”

You hear the clink of his belt buckle and your body thrums in excitement. He plants his knees down on the mattress, shrugging off his slacks and throwing his stuffy blazer to the side. He ducks his head to lick a stripe up your folds.

You shudder, bunching the sheets in your fists and practically sobbing at the need to have his cock inside of you. You’ve never felt this hopeless during your heat before, never craved another Alpha’s cock like this.

Jeno’s hands tighten around your hips as he laps at your cunt, groaning at the sweetness of your taste. It only takes a few seconds for you to gush into his waiting mouth, the sounds of him eagerly swallowing your release filling the room.

Your body slumps on the mattress at the weight of your orgasm. You barely have time to recover when you feel his tip prodding your entrance.

He growls. “Beg for my cock, Omega whore.”

“Please, Alpha, please fuck me. I want your knot to fill my pretty pussy, want you to mark me and make me yours-“

The thought of you being mated to him is what sends Jeno feral. He pushes his cock inside your waiting hole, slick dripping down your thighs and giving him easy access to slide in. You sigh in relief when he’s finally deep inside you, quelling the fire in your stomach that was pleading for him.

He doesn’t waste time — ramming into you at an inhuman speed, hands angrily digging into your sides and slapping your ass until his palm is imprinted on your backside. Your head lolls to the side, officially giving Jeno complete control to use you as you wish.

Just like with your other heats, your body throws you into climax after climax until the pleasure molds itself into your skin. Jeno is still spitting the most filthy, degrading words at you as his knot slowly approaches.

“Look at you, silly Omega. Offering yourself up to the first Alpha you see. Would you have given this cunt to someone else, hm? Let them take what’s rightfully mine?” At the shake of your head, he smirks. “That’s right. Pretty Omega’s pussy is made only for me. Designed for my knot, designed to breed for my future pups.”

The thought of him impregnating you with the future of the respected Lee line prompts you over the edge again. Jeno hisses and grabs the back of your neck, hoisting you up easily to his chest as you hear the sound of his balls slapping against your cunt forcefully.

“Gonna keep cumming around your Alpha’s cock? Never had a heat like this one before, have you, baby? That’s because the moon has finally brought you to your true mate, and you never have to spend another heat without me again.”

You cry in pleasure at the thought of being able to spend every heat with Jeno. You never minded Jaemin being your heat partner, but this satisfaction and connection is something you’ve never felt with anyone else. You genuinely think you’ll die if you go through another heat without Jeno beside you.

“A-Alpha,” you whimper, steadily holding onto his arm that’s securely wrapped around your middle. “Please knot me, Alpha. You’re the only one who can.”

“Yeah?” He groans at how desperate you sound for him. “Want your Alpha’s big knot? Want to be bred like a good little Omega?”

You nearly sob. “Y-Yes! Yes, please!”

He tilts your head and exposes your neck. His fingers carefully run over your mating gland, causing a shiver to run down your spine.

“And this? Is this for me to mark, Omega?”

You frantically nod. “Yes, Alpha. Only for you.”

You know it’s a big step, a permanent marking that would tie Jeno’s Alpha to your Omega forever. Your mind screams at you to reconsider this decision when you have a clearer head, but your heart tells you that there’s nothing to mull over — Jeno is your Alpha and you need the whole world to know.

As his knot begins to swell inside you, his teeth sink into your mating gland, uniting your souls into one. Every feeling Jeno’s ever had courses through your veins, multiplying your pleasure tenfold. Your thighs begin to shake at the amount of gratification flowing through your body.

You almost pass out from the overwhelming sensation, and your body goes slack in Jeno’s hold. His cum shoots deep into your womb, filling you and marking you as his until his release is leaking down your thighs.

You both collapse on the mattress, with Jeno pulling you close to ensure his knot stays rooted deep inside you.

Your head starts to free from your subspace temporarily, and you carefully scan your room as he licks at the wound on your neck to clean you up.

“Did you- Did you break my door?”

Indeed, you can see your front door laying flat in the hallway, nearly shattered. Jeno hums softly.

“It was in my way.”

You think about how your apartment floor must’ve had to evacuate from the profound smell of your scent mixed with Jeno’s. You would feel guilty about it but considering Jeno has no shame over it, his emotions overpower yours.

“Want to fuck you again, Omega,” he hisses against your skin. “Love being mated to you.”

His honest confession forces another wave of arousal to spill from your pussy, leaking around his knot.

“Yeah, Alpha?”

He grunts and starts thrusting into you again, only being able to move a few inches as his knot is still plugging his cum into you. You gasp and pull him down to kiss you.

“My friend-“ you murmur in between moans. “My friend told me you hate Betas and Omegas.”

“Of course I do,” he hisses, propping your leg over his hip so he can push in deeper. “I hate every Beta and Omega who thinks they have a shot at being my mate.”

“You looked so grumpy when I first saw you.”

“I am grumpy,” he mumbles, hands darting to knead your breasts. “Grumpy for everyone except you.”

He grins when you squirt around his knot, your cunt sensitive from the constant rounds of fucking. Your eyes roll to the back of your head at your unexpected orgasm, body twitching in your Alpha’s hold.

Jeno fucks you until the sun rises to indicate the start of a new day. You two barely sleep, exploring various positions throughout your apartment and even the hallway of your complex, ushering more and more residents on the lower floors to evacuate from your scents. Their dirty looks are quickly changed when they see the notorious Lee brother claiming his new mate for all to see.

His cock doesn’t allow your pussy to rest until he’s sure you’ve been impregnated.

When you finally come to, you’re sprawled on your living room floor with a mix of your slick and Jeno’s cum surrounding you. He continues to lick at your skin as if he’ll die without fully receiving his taste of you.

It’s odd since despite only knowing him for less than a day, you feel like you’ve known him your whole life.

“I want-“ you pant, trying to regain your breath. “I want to fuck you forever.”

He chuckles. “Is that so, Omega?” He raises his head to see you, a predatory gaze lingering in his eyes. You wonder if you have it in you to go another few rounds.

“Lucky for you, we’re mated for life. I’m not going anywhere.”

[delirious-donna]

The Temporary Assistant [Higuruma Hiromi]

an: I’ve been obsessed with the exhausted lawyer for some time now, but this is the first time I’ve written a fic for him… please be kind cause I baby.

pairing: Higuruma Hiromi x female reader

warnings: NSFW, pwp, established relationship, reader is assumed to be a little bit on the booby side, pseudo boss/subordinate dynamic, spit as lube (don’t do this folks), Higuruma is a breasts man, nipple play, little prep, cumshot

Masterlist

“She quit. What do you mean, she quit?”

Higuruma massaged his tired eyes in steady circles, huffing out a laugh at your exasperated questioning and the equally perplexed look on your face.

“Darling, I don’t know how else to phrase it other than the young lady no longer works for me,” he offered with fatigue lacing his tone. It was late, and he didn’t want to be having this conversation for the third time today. The first had been with his partner at the law firm they jointly owned, and the second with the agency supervisor his previously employed assistant worked for.

Nanami hadn’t been surprised at the news, a fact that bothered Hiromi more than he cared to admit. His partner was not one for pulling his punches, so Hiromi was accustomed to his sometimes blunt manner of speaking, but it still hurt to think that Kento had seen something coming that he had been blindsided by.

“I’m only surprised she lasted this long.” Those were his parting words as Hiromi stalked dejectedly back to his office at Nanami’s insistence that his assistant would be far too busy to spread her attention to them both. Not words he’d been happy to hear.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Mr Higuruma. That’s not like her, but I’m afraid it’ll be at least two weeks until I can provide a replacement.” The agency supervisor sounded genuinely shocked at the sudden resignation, and his day simply went from bad to worse.

Hiromi flopped onto the couch, his head lolling back with his eyes sliding shut from the weight of his fatigue. It had been mounting all day, and now that he was home, where he should be finding solace in the comfort of his surroundings and his loving wife’s embrace, he was hit suddenly with a fresh reminder of the shit he’d landed in.

A soft hand caressed the side of his neck, inducing a shiver of relief. It was followed by the weight of your body settling over his spread thighs, your head resting against his shoulder. His suit jacket still hung from his lithe frame, the button undone and the shirt beneath badly wrinkled from the long commute home, but you didn’t care about his untidiness. 

He felt every quiet exhale fan his throat, the ghost of a smile finding its way to his face despite it all. Your nimble fingers burrowed into the knot of his tie, loosening it until you could pull it free and toss it away. “What are you going to do, Hiromi? I know you have that court date coming up… it’s a busy time. How about Nanami’s assistant?”

“Not an option. I already tried,” he muttered with a shrug. 

Opening his eyes, he peered down at you tucked into the crook of his neck, a hand inside the collar of his shirt and your nails grazing gentle patterns over his collarbone. He chewed his lip, fearful to broach the idea planted by his partner when his foot was almost out the door. “You could always ask your wife…”

Selfishly, he indulged himself in your affections, your scent that permeated every corner of the home you shared and let his fingers, stiff from the cold, warm against your feminine curves. You might not be so keen to indulge him once he suggested you work as his temporary assistant, so he would take what he could until push came to shove.

“Your fingers are icy, Hiro. Come here,” you chided with a click of the tongue, though he knew it was only born of concern for his health. Hiromi hummed happily, grateful when you pressed his palms together with yours on either side and blew hot air to dispel the chill.

“What would I do without you?” He whispered, sitting upright and nudging your nose with his when you glanced at him. Hiromi’s eyes drooped, heat dusted his cheeks at the proximity, and when you let out an airy giggle… he swore he swooned all over again. Just as he had when he first met you and fell in love.

He doubted he would be in the position he was today had it not been for you. Hell, he wasn’t sure if he would be here at all if he hadn’t met you when he did, but that was a story for another day.

You admired the side profile of your husband, eyes low and hazy with appreciation of his strong jaw and prominent nose that hooked just so at the end. “Good thing you’ll never have to know.”

Hiromi groaned aloud, burying his face between the soft skin of your décolleté. His cool lips skimmed the tops of your breasts, first on one side then turning to the other, making you shudder and hum. Your fingers threaded through his black hair, tugging firmly at the roots just how he liked, and his hips jerked in response.

A great fuck and a good night’s sleep would fix him, you were certain of it. It wouldn’t resolve his work issue, but Hiromi worked better with a clear mind, and you knew it was murky as bog water right now. Your man was a brilliant lawyer, dedicated to working towards a more just legal system for those normally underrepresented along with his partner, but he was a terrible workaholic.

You couldn’t count the nights he traipsed home from the office at an ungodly hour only to drag his tired body into his home office to continue where he left off. Only coming to bed when you physically dragged him away from his keyboard and desk with threats of pain and not the kind he typically enjoyed.

It couldn’t be easy to be his assistant, though you knew damn well that he was a good man. The poor girl probably had enough of the endless expectations and incessantly long hours which were necessary to get through all of his demands because he refused to finish at five like normal people. On the few occasions you’d stopped by his office, you could see the fraught expression written all over her young face and how her eyes pleaded with you to distract her boss enough so she could catch up with the mountain of requests waiting for her attention. Poor girl…

Ready to go to town on your poor overworked and stressed husband, you rocked your pelvis against the seam of his zipper, pushing his head further into your chest whilst his cock twitched and hardened beneath you. Hiromi practically purred, the sound muffled and vibrated right down into your soul. The possibilities were endless, and you were considering if you should slide to the floor and bathe his cock in your spit or ride him until all that wicked tension left his body when he suddenly paused.

His hands moved to your waist, the pressure firmer than expected and he gently slid you back along his knees so you were no longer planted over his poorly concealed erection. The flicker of guilt burnt in his whisky-smoked eyes, and it soured your smile. Hiromi shook his head and exhaled deeply, his eyes flitting away from yours.

“I can’t do this,” he muttered.

“You… can’t fuck your wife?” Your voice broke into a laugh that had nothing to do with amusement and everything to do with the bitter twist of uncertainty in your stomach. “Since when?”

“Don’t say that. I want to, but I need to ask you something first.” Hiromi cupped your face in his hands, leaning in to press what he hoped were reassuring kisses to your forehead, cheeks and lips. “Then you can decide if you still wanna… y’know.”

Your eyes narrowed, suspicion forming like a snake ready to strike, and your arms folded tightly across your chest. He swallowed nervously, struggling not to ogle your beautiful breasts that he would be fully buried in by now and likely suckling on had it not been for his damned conscience. 

“Spit it out, Higuruma.”

Oh, he was in trouble.

Hiromi cleared his throat and fixed you with a beseeching look. “Will you be my assistant?” He rushed on when you visibly bristled. “It’s only for two weeks until the agency can find me a replacement and, and… it was Kento’s idea!”

“Throwing Kento under the bus isn’t going to save your hide, Mr Higuruma!” You slid sideways onto the couch, ignoring the groan of disappointment from beside you. “You know very well I am in the midst of my PhD. How could you think it would be feasible for me to come work in your office as an errand girl for a fortnight?”

“Well… I have a plan,” he said, both pointer fingers coming together as he continued to give you the best impression of those adorable dogs with the droopy eyes.

When he didn’t elaborate immediately, your eyebrows rose and you nudged his knee with yours. 

“R-right. I know you’ve been writing your paper here at home. So, I thought that maybe I could also work from home. You could help me out and continue your work in between the things I need.”

Dammit, that wasn’t quite the terrible idea you had initially anticipated. You eyed your husband from head to toe, and he desperately tugged at your folded arms until he could take your hands into his. He kissed across your knuckles, nuzzling his cheek, rough from a faint five o’clock shadow, into the back of your hands.

“Hiromi…” you warned, but he was almost too overjoyed to hear his given name once more to heed the warning in your voice.

“Two weeks. That’s all. And I promise not to ask for too much, only the absolute necessities that I can’t manage myself. Please?”

How could you deny him when he asked so sweetly and especially when you knew just how under the cosh he was with his upcoming trial? It would only interfere with your deadlines if he didn’t uphold his promises, but you chose to believe that he would. After all, Hiromi was rather keen on keeping his balls attached to his body.

“Fine, but you owe me.”

~

The first week went by without incident. It was an adjustment, to say the least, but once you found your feet and Hiromi got used to not having to leave at the arse crack of dawn, it was rather lovely to see more of your handsome husband.

Being able to sit down at the small kitchen table to eat lunch together was a daily treat, and it filled you with triumph when he would eagerly seek you out in the kitchen with his nose sniffing out whatever delicious treat you had prepared that day. Ensuring Hiromi ate during the working day was, more often than not, a struggle, with several text messages bouncing back and forth until he acquiesced–but not now.

Maybe it was the lure of stolen kisses or the giggles shared when you called him Mr Higuruma, breathlessly pressing your body into his and squealing playfully when he pawed at your backside in turn.

You’d be lying if you weren’t enjoying the pseudo roleplay of boss and subordinate. Playing pretend with a power balance that didn’t translate to your relationship outside this current scenario. There was no top or bottom, no dominant or submissive, just two people enraptured by each other. Sometimes you led, and other times he did. Your marriage was well-balanced, and you loved that about Hiromi. He wasn’t threatened by a woman that initiated, in fact, he loved it—loved you. So this new experience, where he was large and in charge at all times, was certainly thrilling, but not everything was smooth sailing. 

Hiromi was demanding, to say the least. When he was engrossed in a specific piece of work, he had a way of speaking that made you want to smack him round the head with one of his many manila folders, preferably one of the thicker ones.

No wonder his assistant had quit if he regularly spoke to her in the clipped manner you had heard on more than several occasions now. Only your intimate knowledge of the man kept your tongue in your head and your hand away from the folders. Niceties were time-consuming when he was against the clock. He didn’t mean to be cold, and you told yourself this over and over, but it still hurt, just a little.

Higuruma could get used to this. 

He idly wondered how he would feasibly make the transition back to office working once this temporary fix came to an end. He didn’t miss his morning commutes, the packed trains that felt like being crammed into sardine tins, nor the chill of the office before the heating had a chance to warm the rooms sufficiently. 

It was a treat to be able to roll out of bed and right into his desk chair. If he wanted to start at 6am, he could, though you would chastise him thoroughly if he dared to. He knew you liked your morning snuggles, and so did he. Waking slowly to your soft snores which he liked to call purrs, and soaking in the smell of your sleep-soaked skin whilst his hands roamed every inch of your softness he could reach. It made it easier to escape the clutches of sleep, knowing you were waiting for him.

However, the star attraction of the current situation was you. Never had he cast an appreciative eye over one of his assistants, not even before he met you, but you were his wife, and he couldn’t help but gawk at his sheer dumb luck. There was something altogether forbidden about the fantasies in his head which, of course, made them all the more alluring.

The first few days at home he had stayed in comfortable clothing, favouring the sweats he’d wear around the house on the weekends and his old college sweater, but quickly, he realised that this didn’t work for him. He needed the structure of his routine even if he wasn’t venturing past his front door, so the suits returned—starched collars and a black tie at his throat. As if to match his energy, you started to dress formally too, and what a treat that was.

Pencil skirts that he didn’t think he’d ever seen, blouses that nipped in your waist, pinafore dresses that swished around your thighs and most decadent of all–lace-topped stockings. 

You were driving him to distraction, and the worst of it was that he was certain you didn’t realise. It made him sound shorter than he liked, his words coming out clipped, and his pleasantries sounded cursory rather than heartfelt. You were doing your best to accommodate his needs whilst still working on your paper, and here he was, wishing to bend you over his desk to run his nose and mouth over your squidgy thighs, the meat of your backside and the seat of your underwear until it soaked through with his saliva.

By the time the second week rolled around, Higuruma was a volcano, ready and raring to erupt at the slightest breeze or incident. The lunchtime kisses were no longer satiating his desires, nor were the evenings spent worshipping at the altar of your puffy, spit-covered pussy. It wasn’t enough to scratch this very specific itch.

“I’ve made the copies you asked for, Hiromi. I’ve also updated your calendar with the pre-agenda meeting that came through from the opposing side. Was there anything else for now?”

Hiromi audibly moaned when your wrist grazed his fingers, setting down the documents in question and lingering by his side, waiting for an answer. He tugged sharply at the knot of his tie, feeling choked for air—starved of logic. 

As he glanced up at you, he paused. Your bottom lip was held fast between your teeth, eyes positively alight with playful mischief. So maybe you were more aware of the thick-as-sticky treacle tension than he gave you credit for. He fixed the cuffs of his shirt in an attempt to mask the shake of his hands, setting his pen down before leaning back in his chair. It creaked in protest, and you raised a hand to stifle a laugh. 

“Actually, there is something else, and it cannot be put off a moment longer,” he drawled with a tone that suggested he was going to dictate a letter or something equally menial. 

You were not expecting him to spin his chair towards you and yank you down by the arm into his lap. The shriek that left you was genuine, only silenced towards the end by the firm melding of warm, insistent lips. His hands were everywhere and all at once; squeezing the tops of your arms, ripping at the buttons that hid your cleavage from him and skimming beneath the tight hold of your skirt until it rucked around your hips.

There was such urgency to his movements that you struggled to catch up, but finally, you broke apart from his mouth, saliva strands webbing and breaking apart as your tongue passed through them and across your swollen lips. “Mr Higuruma! What would your wife say?” 

It was meant as a spicy joke, a nod to the little games that had been at play and the dynamic the two of you had fallen into, but you sensed immediately that it didn’t go over well. He stopped fumbling with the buttons of your blouse, half of them free from their holes and the lace of your bra now prominently on show, breasts firmly squeezed together given the constraints of the material.

“I-I would… never. I mean…” You watched the desire in his eyes shift to panic, and you shushed him with a finger over his lips. Your heart ricocheted in your chest at the sincerity, and if you believed you couldn’t love him any more than you already did, it proved untrue when you witnessed the devotion that shone in those whisky-coloured eyes.

“I know. It’s okay,” you murmured, closing the distance and trailing your lips over his jaw and up to his ear. “I like it… keep going, please?”

Oh gods, how could he have ever deserved a woman like you in his life? Hiromi whimpered, his eyebrows pinched together, and he felt that final strand of restraint snap clean in two. His lip trembled for a second before he was on you again. Hungry kisses pathed down your throat, a hand at the back of your head to keep you close and manoeuvre you exactly as he wanted.

You scrabbled at his tie, pulling it free with a whip crack until you could toss it behind you and return your focus to his shirt so you could scratch at his chest and leave red welts across his skin.

“No.” The frantic lawyer shook his head, pressing his fingertips over the fresh mark he’d sucked into your neck simply to watch you whine from the pressure of the blooming bruise. “Belt, now.”

Jumping at the ragged command that rasped from Hiromi’s throat, you complied without teasing or complaint. Working the tail of his leather belt through the buckle and sighed at the clatter of the metal when it rattled free to join his tie somewhere unseen in the room.

“Fuck… take it out, please.”

He didn’t wait for you to say anything, nor did he wait for you to pop his top button or lower his zip. He was too focused on freeing your bountiful tits and taking them into his mouth. Your eyes raised to the heavens when his hot needy tongue licked around your nipple, the lace cups shoved down to push your breast up and into his face. 

For long moments, you only watched as he laved you with his spit, lips drawn around your pert buds to elicit that deep-seated squirm of pleasure that echoed between your thighs. Hiromi lifted his gaze to your face, making sure you watched as he sandwiched your breast together with his broad palms so he could suckle both nipples at once. Your jaw slackened, your stomach sucked in, and your hips undulated atop his thighs.

It invigorated the tightness of your hold on his cock, drawing it out of his briefs followed by his heavy balls to stroke him hard and fast. He could take it, you knew that, his purpled cockhead sticky from precum that painted your fingers and palm. You paused with his foreskin pulled back, fingers ringing his base to use your other hand to tickle the seam of his balls. He jerked up with a muffled grunt, a resounding pop echoing in the study when his lips pulled free of your breasts.

“Need you, Sir. Please, want this,” you paused to squeeze his shaft in emphasis, “Inside me.”

“Little fucking temptress, you know that? Should’ve bent you over this desk days ago…” He growled against your collarbone, marking it with his teeth.

Higuruma stood abruptly. You squealed and anchored an arm around his neck, refusing to give up your possessive grab of his throbbing dick. He turned and shoved the back of his chair flush against the edge of his desk to stabilise it before dropping you into the leather seat and folding your legs back to your chest. 

His rough fingers pinched into the fat of your thighs, fiddling with the sticky bands of your lace stockings and damn near ripped them. You would have complained had it not been for the raw emotions written all over Hiromi’s face, his eyes fixed on the seat of your underwear and the obvious stain that was caused by his ministrations.

Bending his knees to drop closer to you, he savoured your mouth with his tongue pushing past the seam of your lips to curl over your teeth. He filled his hands with the fat of your ass, pulling the cheeks apart and massaging the roundness with little gentleness. It was all you could do to moan, the sounds swallowed greedily only to be replaced by a pleading keen when he tugged your underwear away from your cunt. The fabric bunched around your knees, and you assumed he’d move back to remove them fully, but he didn’t. Instead, he twisted the material until it was tight around the bend of your knees, pinning you in place. 

His long slender fingers stroked your pretty slit, coming away with remnants of your arousal and using it to mix with his precum that continued to weep onto your hand. Hiromi’s head sagged forward, black hair falling into his eyes as a long string of saliva fell from what he’d gathered behind his teeth to your sensitive clit. He smeared it around the bundle of nerves, scissoring his fingers until he could tug it feverishly.

“Hiro… fuck me already. Goddammit, I’m gonna blow,” you whined, painfully aware that you were dangling by a thread.

You helped him lead his cock to your entrance, tapping it against your folds to see the tendons in his neck strain and giving you some semblance of smug satisfaction. When he finally notched where you needed him most, your breathing was coming so rapidly you faintly worried you might pass out from this. The air was so thick you struggled to inhale, drowning in this faux forbidden tryst.

He groaned, long and low. His nose nudged into your warm cheek as he bent even lower and pushed into your velvet heat. “That’s it. This pretty pussy is sucking me in—fuck—oh, you like that?” He teased, his hips drawing back only to plunge in again, and deeper this time when he felt you clench around him.

You gripped his forearms, head lolling against the headrest when his cock reached your depths, and the coarse midnight patch of hairs at his pelvis rubbed delicious friction into your pert little pearl. 

“Mhm… mhm. Keep going. Don’t stop.”

Higuruma could have laughed at the absurdity of your words. What made you think he could stop even if he wanted to? You were hugging him too perfectly, pulling him back in each time he withdrew his hips. The rhythmic pap of his full-to-bursting balls against the split of your ass rocketed him closer and closer to the finish point, enough so that he fisted the base of his dick to stave off his looming orgasm. He wasn’t ready for this to end, but that didn’t mean he was going to stop either.

The tails of his shirt escaped his trousers and obscured the view of his cock disappearing into your warm cunt, and he growled in frustration. You were so close to the precipice of your orgasm that you didn’t realise why he was growling, only moaning at the primal noise and clenching down hard enough that Hiromi’s eyes nearly popped out of his head.

Releasing his hold on your thighs, he grinned wolfishly at the imprints of his fingertips on the backs of your legs. With his heart pounding rapidly, he ripped his shirt up his torso and gripped the material between his teeth. His cock sawed in and out at a pace that was losing its rhythm at an alarming rate. 

He’d never looked like this before, crazed with desire and burning heat covering the apples of his cheeks. The whisky smoke in his eyes was barely visible due to how blown out his pupils were, and you lifted a hand to caress his cheek. His eyes cut to you, hips rotating whilst buried against your cervix, and with a sharp nod, he asked you to cum for him. His thumb sought out your clit, working it from side to side whilst his balls drew painfully tight and the first lick of molten heat dripped at the base of his spine.

Your eyes rolled over, limbs going lax and pliant pinned between the chair and his body. Your toes curled within your stockings, thighs trembling and butterflying open onto the arms of the chair. Hiromi rode out your high, slowing himself just so, but he couldn’t hold back for too long.

With a willpower that shocked him, he pulled out at the last moment and pumped himself until thick viscous spurts of cum shot across your exposed breasts and stained the blouse covering your stomach. He convulsed so intensely his knees nearly buckled, long drawn-out whimpers ripping from his throat, and you watched it all through hooded, blissed-out eyes. 

Hiromi sagged forward, his forehead pressed against yours as he fought to catch his breath. His cock twitched as it softened, the sensation worsened by your toying little fingers exploring his sensitive skin and rubbing the mixture of his and your arousal into his pelvis and across his balls. He didn’t know what to say. The fantasy lived out was so much more than his imagination could conjure, but he still felt a little vulnerable now it was over.

He unstuck his tongue from the roof of his mouth and licked over his parched lips. Words caught in his throat, but they were cut off by the trill of his phone on the desk as it vibrated across the wood. You handed it to him with a shy smile, and he answered it after smoothing back his hair.

“Mr Higuruma?”

“S-speaking,” he answered, clearing his throat urgently.

“I’m calling from Clerical Angels. Unfortunately, I have bad news. It is going to be another week before a new assistant can start. I’m sorry for the delay, I know it must be an inconvenience…”

Your eyes widened at the conversation you could hear as clear as day, meeting his steady gaze with cheeks that burned with a combination of mild embarrassment and intrigue. One more week.

“Not at all. I think I can cope, my wife is happy to bend over backwards for me.”

Oh, Hiromi would pay for that comment… but not for at least another week.

[fanaticsnail]

Don't Run

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 4,600+

Synopsis: In one moment, you were standing beside your boss and enjoying the silence between you as you worked. In an instant, the dynamic shifted: you became the hunted as opposed to the hunter. When you ducked towards the ground, shifting your eyes and tilting your head to read the tracks left by your target, Rob Lucci was hit by a wave he had long since prayed he had repressed. Instinct.

Themes: Rob Lucci x afab!reader, NSFW, 18+, smut, MDNI, primal play, no prior relationship, dub con, half-shifting, monster loving, zoan tendencies, Lucci has hit his season, knotting, slight yandere, hunting, a little out of character for Lucci as a monster, Lucci in rutt, workplace rivals to lovers, chasing, claiming, use of the word 'mate'.

Notes: I wanted to do something for Lucci that leaned a little more into the monster aspects of Zoans. I hope you enjoy!

Everything happened so fast. 

In one moment, you were standing beside your boss and enjoying the silence between you and him as you tracked a pirate for the celestial dragons. Feet falling in perfect synchrony, breaths silenced while your eyes both focussed, you found the trail you were searching for with relative ease. 

That silence was not to remain as such for long. In an instant, the dynamic shifted: you became the hunted as opposed to the hunter. When you ducked towards the ground, shifting your eyes and tilting your head to read the marks left on the ground, Rob Lucci was hit by a wave he had long since prayed he had repressed. As he took in the way your body arched and knelt low to the ground, he automatically undressed you with his eyes and saw himself claiming you as his Zoan alter. He couldn't fight it, it all coming to him as automatically as breathing or walking.

Instinct. 

Rob Lucci had earlier dismissed Hattori so the two of you could focus on using your keen eyes to search for any indication of your target, rather than your usual inclination to hand feed the bird dried corn kernels you traveled with. You were sweet amongst the sour faces he grew accustomed to. Despite how you were in battle, you always had that way of brightening any room you entered. The celestial dragons almost enjoyed you, and your coworkers adored you. 

But Lucci? He both hated the softness to you, and appreciated you being that presence for him when the time came. Your natural charisma did wonders for sating the cruelty of the celestial dragons, but Rob Lucci despised the small up-twitch in your tone. You were sweet, despite your role beside him. Too sweet for your own well being. 

The Zoan-Fruit user kept his eyes sharp and focussed, only ever affixing to the ground in front of you both while you searched. When you bent down to peer at the tracks a little closer, his chest rattled with a deep growl that bubbled and shook within his throat. 

The perfect arch of your back awoke that desire deep within his soul. His withheld urges finally broke when he saw you in that position. Ass rounded, kneeling to the ground, focussing on your task on all fours, the beast within him swelled to life against his will. You looked so good on your knees, almost playing that role he so desperately needed you to.

Submission. 

At hearing the growl, you hastily snapped your head in his direction for further instruction. Truly thinking he saw something you did not manage to see, your eyes rounded innocently and your lips parted in a soft heart-shape while you gazed at him in question.

“Sir, what is it?” you asked quietly, darting your eyes between his while reading his squared body language, “Are they close? Do I need to-?” 

“-Don’t run,” his growl cracked from the recesses of his diaphragm, “It will make what’s about to happen so much worse.” 

Slowly rising to your feet, you turn fully to face him. His purred growl grew in intensity, prompting your foot to fall back and prepare yourself for battle. Unknowing what you were preparing yourself for, you ensured you remained below his eye level while you flexed your muscles to ready yourself. 

“Have we been found?” you whispered, your eyes never leaving his face while you peered through your peripherals around the area. 

“No,” his tone quietened, that same rattling purr swelling in his chest. His lip almost upturned at the corner as he uttered a small quip, “Not yet, at least.” 

“Then what is it?” Your voice raised in frequency. You arched your back and rolled your shoulders back. “I just found their tracks. What’s wrong-?” Your sentence halted as Lucci cut you off. 

“-You... You've triggered it,” he snarled with a vile accusation laden in his tone. “The way you bent just now. I-... I need-...” He shook his head, attempting to chase away the need pooling in his belly and the adrenaline igniting a fresh wave of lust over his skin. 

Mate. 

His rounded pupils split into symmetrical slits as he focuses his shifting gaze on your much smaller form. He had hoped he had grown out of this by now, and took the correct combinations of melatonin and herbal remedies to sate it. But the way your ass all but presented to him while you knelt towards the floor said otherwise. 

Body swelling with the ignition of need, he felt his top and bottom canines protrude from his jaw while his muscles broke and cracked to morph into a larger form. His eyes never left yours as your own rounded in fright. Those eyes, that soft innocence in your face, the almost unnoticeable quiver in your lip while your heartbeat began to drum in your ears. 

“Sir?” your soft and unsure voice cut through the air, “What did I trigger? Some form of trap they laid out for us?” 

Lucci’s body vibrated with intensity. His body propelled his foot forward against his will. He was screaming to have a semblance of control. His arched eyebrows furrowed down in the center of his head. The pads of his feet expanded and broke through the soles of his shoes. Toes curled, claws protruded and cut into the dirt beneath him. 

You turned on your heels, eyes holding firmly against his and checking him over. Lucci was angry. Everything about him was screaming both aggression and need, and it began to frighten you. 

“Don't run,” he warned you, his usual cadence cutting through and his eyes widened in panic, “It will be so much worse if you do. I can't-... I won't be in control of myself if you run.” 

“What can't you control, sir?” You frown at the way your voice catches in your throat, your fright rising and taking over your body, “Talk to me. What is going on?” 

“Zoan Fruit users,” Lucci purred, a cruel smile rising on his face as he lowered his body down to the floor, “Take on similar urges of their animal counterpart. I-... I thought I'd repressed it enough.” His shoulders rolled back, his unblinking eyes drinking you in as he crouched in a low position, “But, it appears, I have come into my season.” 

Temperature fluctuations and travel had taken its toll on his body and mind, confusing the beast within him and driving his urges wild. Although he claimed disinterest in you, you were his perfect match. He hated that. Your sweetness countered his terror, your haste in fights married themself perfectly his own brutal rage. He needed you to submit to him, and he needed to ensure you did so quietly to not bring you harm.

Your eyes widened further, your arms falling out to the sides as your body began to make a choice for you. 

Rob Lucci was telling you he was consumed with the lust of the beast lingering beneath his skin and swelling his adrenaline. Putting together the pieces yourself, it seemed the animal within had chosen you to breed whilst in the middle of a mission. While you did find Lucci attractive, his abrasive and standoffish attitude pushed back your desires for him. You would rather approach Kaku to date than Rob Lucci. He was at least reasonable in your eyes. The only redeeming quality about Rob Lucci was that cute little pigeon he usually traveled with. 

“I would never ask this of you,” he halted his steps towards you, his body trembling beneath the physical strain of holding himself back, “But I can’t contain it for much longer. If, just for a moment, you could consider allowing me to be close to you,” his snout protruded, his eyes darkening as his lust deepened, “Just inhaling your scent could sate me. I wouldn’t need to c-claim you. Just allow me to hold you for a moment, a-and I can repress the need to-... fuck you.” 

More of his body gave way. His calves extended to a taller stature as his chest broadened with his skin stretching and darkening over his body to the warm gold and dark spots you had only even seen in battle. You had never been darkened by his terrifying silhouette before, never having his animality facing you. Only ever having worked beside him in this form, your heart began to panic. 

Your strength was haste in battle. Scrapping with a flurry of jolts while using your speed to counter opponents twice your size. While you attempted to scream at your body to rid it of its fear and stand your ground, your training immediately kicked in and your reflexes propelled you to run. 

“Don’t run.” 

The barked order only ignited your need to flee to safety. Immediately picking up your heels, you sprinted at your full speed throughout the heavily wooded area. You barely heard the roll of "No!" roaring from his chest as you ran.

Branches snapped beneath your feet as you sprinted towards your freedom, attempting to remain as quiet as you could with the man clawing at your achilles. Your body pushed you to full acceleration, your chest burning from the intensity of your adrenaline swelling your veins. Knees brushing with the shrubbery, breath controlled and steady, you continued to run until you felt yourself far enough from the beast to hide. 

Concealing yourself to the best of your ability on the moss-covered forest floor, you crawled backwards beneath the coverage of a fallen tree trunk. Your heart pounded in your chest as you heard the heavy panting of the leopard-man tracking you. Lucci was cold, calculated, borderline sociopathic, and usually without emotion. You felt you would be able to reason with Jabra or Kaku if they were like this, even giving into them if they’d asked politely enough. But Lucci scared you.

You heard heavy sniffs of the air, prompting you to raise your palm to clap over your nose and mouth to stifle your shocked breathing. You had absolutely lost the trail of your target now, choosing to run from your colleague while he lost control of himself in lieu of following them and bringing them in. Scrunching your eyes tightly shut, you felt four sets of heavy paws digging into the branch on top of you. 

Holding your breath, you made yourself as small as possible. Legs tucked into your chest, arms around your calves, and palm still clapped over your lips, you hid from the monster searching for you. Heavy inhales and deep rumbling purrs shook the air within Lucci’s chest and shook you to your soul. 

Behind the shroud of your eyelids, all you could picture was the man transformed into the beast above you. What would it be like to finally be caught by him? What would he do? Could he be reasoned with? Would he immediately attempt to fuck you into submission?

You did not have to ponder for much longer as the bark split beneath his claws, severing a hole in your makeshift covering with the tear in the fallen trunk. You stifled your scream, scampering to both flee outwards and bury yourself deeper inwards beneath what remained of the shelter. The two options fighting within your mind had your body uncooperative to your whims. As you finally chose to flee outwards, two large paws circled your ankles and tugged you back in beneath the large trunk. 

The animal had captured you, pinning you beneath him and growling into your face. Back laying flush with the ground, your widened eyes peered up at the half-shifted man caging you within his extended arms. His jaws split into a large snarl, saliva connecting his upper and lower jaw as he roared down at your body. 

Turning your head to the side, you expected him to bite and claw at you: hastily slashing your throat and leaving you to die in a pool of your own demise weeping out of you. But it never came. 

In lieu of such pain and slaughter from the man turned beast, you felt a friction on your stomach down over your clothed cunt. Your neck turned, his beastial jowls pulling back and extending his coarse tongue to roll over your flesh and swipe at your pulse. His hips snapped feverishly forwards, rutting his red-tipped cock against you while staining your pants with his damp precum. Inhaling your scent, he lapped at your neck and began to gnaw at the muscle: not enough to break the skin, but firm enough to hold you steady while he rubs his otherworldly cock against your clothed center. 

“Mine,” he purred against your skin, his neediness increasing in the friction against your abdomen, “Mine.” His repetition of the word rose in volume the longer he rut into you. His glossy precum dribbled against your pants, completely dampening it while he continued to growl and preen against your neck. Each time it made contact in a crude glide against your clit, your breath hitched as arousal began to seep from your slit. 

Rob Lucci was no longer reachable as the large leopard humanoid dragged his cock against your clothed heat. Gasps, grunts, and growls exited him as he continued on. He couldn’t finish like this. Not after the chase. He had you pinned beneath him, and the Zoan creature wanted to claim you completely as his prize. 

Fabric broke as his claws ribboned the material of your pants. Your legs kicked out, but his knees pinned your thighs wide as his cock bobbed with need. Within the beast, Lucci was screaming at himself to at least have some semblance of decorum. He could see you through his otherworldly eyes, glaring at you as you squirmed beneath him. 

“Still,” the beast growled, looking at your exposed cunt as it glistened with arousal. You scrunched your eyes shut and attempted to block the next few moments out. He was going to fuck you, just as he said he would, and he was going to be in this form while he did. 

In another life, you could’ve seen you both continuing to work together, building a comradery rapport as you had been for the past year. You may have even called him friend by the end of it, perhaps being open to a relationship should he halt with his cold attitude and showcase some semblance of warmth. 

“Look,” the rumbled order purred from above you. You opened your eyes, gently turning your head towards the man towering over your cowering form. The only reason you truly ran from him in the first place was due to the fright that overcame you at being on the receiving end of his wrath in this form. You would’ve never ran if you knew the kindness in the beast’s eyes as he stared down at you. His cock twitched as it made contact against your glistening pussy. His red tip leaked as he rubbed the engorged head against your clit. 

“Mine.”

Pushing the tip within you caused you to squeak out in protest. Eyes wide and gazing up at the creature, your lip quivered as the leopard-man inched further into your entrance. Your body stretched to accommodate him, the earlier grinding of his cock against your clothed cunt withdrew enough arousal as your earlier rush of adrenaline paved the way for your lust to overcome you. Truthfully, you craved this. The way he possessively held you with a need no other partner had expressed. You had never felt so wanted in your life, and within the arms of the Zoan-Fruit user, your body gave in to the touch.

Relaxing your core, you gently reached a shaky hand to press against his furred jowls. Caressing his cheek, you darted your eyes between his with a soft nod. Unsure whether Lucci was truly reachable or not, you wanted to reassure your superior that you were okay: that this was okay. The way your body reacted was okay, and your need for him was okay.

The man peered down at you like you were a meal, taking a moment to lean in to that soft touch before fully giving in to his desires. Your wrists were hastily bound within his claws as he sheathed his cock completely within your heat. The swollen bulge at the base of his cock slammed against your body: your smaller size unable to take the swell within your pussy without preparation. Your stomach bulged with the sheer size of his cock entering you, as you silently screamed out in the fine line between pleasure and pain. 

In his large left claw, he took both of your hands and rose them above your head while his right clutched at your hips. Without care, he lost himself in the feeling of your walls. You let out a soft whimper as the burn from the stretch intensified with each cruel glide. His hips snapped into yours at a punishing pace as his grasps bruised your hips and wrists. Repetitively spearing himself deep within your body, you felt your cunt beginning to clench eagerly around him. 

“Mine,” he growled once more, his pace growing rabid and feral. His thrusts were deep and intense, never expelling his full length from your cunt as you struggled to accommodate him. The burn subsided into a dull ache as his tip slapped against your cervix, prompting your soft gasps to fall away to whimpers and soft whines. Your pussy molded to his shape with each powerful thrust, but never truly felt prepared enough to adjust to his pace. 

You were a doll in his arms, his claim over you intensifying with the cruel piston of his cock in your slick heat. The way he seemed to hit all of the sensitive and pleasure forming nerves to make you cry out and clench around him had you gushing for him. You should be trying to push him off, chastising him for ruining your pants after chasing you through the forest, but each rock into your body had you getting wetter and wetter for him. You felt your body relaxing, the pit in your belly beginning to coil tight in the promise of a brutal orgasm rising.  

The squelching of his cock meeting his knot at the base had him more wild and frantic the longer he pummelled you. Completely sheathed with a rapid flurry of anxious thrusts had his base drumming against your slit. 

He was going to try and put it in. 

“L-Lucci-!” Your strangled cry had him pushing harder into you. The swell of his knot rammed against you, your tight entrance prohibiting him from bullying its way into you no matter how hard the buck or rutt. He growled in response, releasing your wrists from above your head and surrounding your waist in his firm grip. 

“Knot,” he roared, holding your waist firmer and attempting to slam his hips more intently against yours. Your pussy refused to budge, even though your mind screamed at it to allow him to. You knew he wouldn't stop until he entered that thick bulge into your slick heat, and you whimpered at the thought of him continuing to try to no avail. 

“Lucci it won't fit-,” you tried, desperately willing him to listen to you. “I can’t take y-you like this. I-If you can turn back to your regular self, I-I can-.” 

The leopard-man growled as he unsheathed his cock from you completely. You were shocked, thinking the man had come to his senses and was about to repress his animal urges and return to the cold, dark-haired man you knew him to be. Instead, he flipped you onto your stomach: face colliding with the moss-covered ground as he used the heel of his hand to arch the middle of your back and force your ass up.

In the same position that broke his hardened resolve in the first place, he immediately resheathed himself with a loud roar. The reverberations falling from his roar echoed within your chest, immediately making your pussy flutter around his hard, red cock. As the knot pressed up against you, he set a rapid and brutal pace hammering it against your slit. The heavy claps of your thighs meeting his hips had your eyes rolling in your skull, feeling completely claimed by him in the submissive position he’d curled you into. 

Crouching back onto his hind legs and planting his heels, he snapped intently into his hips from behind, slotting you down onto his cock in heavy thrusts. With his hands now both circling your hips, removed from your back in a quick glide, he used the shameful amount of slick falling from your pussy to finally push himself over that ridge. 

He managed to force his knot in with a single, intense thrust.

As soon as his knot settled into you, it caught on the ring of muscle at the base of your heat. You could taste the earth rubbed into your lips from the earlier spin, your abdomen wound in a tight vice as your orgasm halted as soon as he pressed his knot inside you. Right on the edge, and without a way to move against him to draw it forth, you felt his cock begin to twitch in the depth of your cunt none before reached. You needed something to tip you over, pussy tingling and abdomen shuddering while you whined and mewled out for him.

“Cum,” he barked down at you. His command immediately took root in your body, prompting it to submit to his wishes without question. At that order, you felt the waves of bliss crashing over you as you were shepherded into ecstacy. Your pussy began contracting and fluttering around his cock as the warmth of his own release emptied himself within you. He roared something that sounded like your name, the gurgled choke of his otherworldly voice breaking into his usual tone. 

“I-I’m cumming,” you cried out, screaming his name and a babble of incomprehensible words as your tears began to leak from the corners of your eyes, “Lucci, nnngh- I’m cumming.” You were in ecstasy, never before feeling so full and stretched by a partner prior. Viscous cum began flooding your abdomen and immediately splashing back against the base of your cervix. The knot at his base acted like a plug: holding the entirety of his load deep within you and choking you with how much volume it truly was. 

Lucci rolled the both of you onto your side, his cock still buried at the knot as the final twitches of his cock deeply spilling into you had you gasping for air. Your soft tears began to build up in intensity, rolling down your cheeks as your shoulders shook. Containing your whimpers in your lips after such a hefty release coming out of nowhere, you drew your hand up once more to press over your lips and nose. Eyes scrunched shut, you tried to contain yourself as you were overcome with heavy emotions. You replayed the events from the day, hoping it would make sense if you focussed it enough.

Your colleague had propositioned you, and while you didn’t say ‘no’, you also didn’t say 'yes,' until he was already buried within you. Terror at his otherworldly form compelled you to flee, and that chase exhilarated you to the point where your fright became arousal. Tearing through your clothes, he bullied himself into you to the point your teeth chattered at the stretch, but it didn’t feel wrong. It felt almost as if you were meant to be his-.

“-Mate,” Lucci’s voice softly purred at you. His tongue lulled out and began to drag the coarse muscle against your neck. Slowly lapping at your skin, the barbs on his lengthy pink tongue collected a few of your tears and pulled them back into his mouth. His body relaxed against you, his muscle deflating at the ring of your pussy circling at his base. The arm around your waist began to melt back to the flesh of his mortal self.

“Lucci, I-.” He hushed you by drawing you back further into his arms, nuzzling his forehead into your neck while inhaling deeply. His cock was still buried, knot throbbing as he reduced back into the mortal you knew him to be.

“-I warned you not to run,” he whispered huskily against you. His lips met your skin and pressed a warm and gentle kiss into it, “I would’ve been so much more gentle.” Another kiss melted against your skin, his words rolling easily off his tongue and pressed into you. “It could’ve been so much more beautiful. Not like...,” he twitched his cock, still deflating at the knot as he shifted back into his usual self, “...This.” 

You whimpered at the twitch, with a chuckle met in response from the man behind you. 

“Did I hurt you?” he asked, almost shyly in comparison to his usual cold-heartedness. You gently shook your head in ‘no,’ knowing truly that you would have a dull ache and burn as soon as you managed to struggle shakily to your feet. 

“Liar,” he muffled his lips over your pulse, his gentleness continuing as he began fixing your shirt from behind you. “You took me well, like you were made for me.” You hid your head in your hand, feeling truly fatigued and grimy after that full chase and having his cock buried balls deep within your pussy. 

After taking a moment to calm yourself down with a few gulps of air, you addressed the man behind you as your superior. 

“We lost track of the target,” you stated monotonously, “They will not be pleased with our failure.” Lucci hummed behind you, pressing his forehead to the base of your skull and inhaling now his muzzle fell back into his human appearance. He drank in your scent in any of his forms, taking you in and creating a memory of the harmony falling from your skin and rising in his lungs. 

“I don’t care. We will find them again,” he nodded, pulling back and taking a look at your body against his. You were so small, and your skin was flushed and sweaty from sprinting. “Rest now.” You nodded, your brows furrowing as you felt him still buried deep within you. The swollen knot continued to pulse against your walls, the thrum of your heartbeat deep within your pussy matching the join bulbing at his hilt. You truly felt as one with him, and you didn’t quite understand it.

“What did you call me?” You asked him quietly, “You called me something. Your-.”

“-My mate, yes,” he confirmed, settling himself behind you. Using his hand to gently caress your skin, he moved it up and down your arm before settling over the bulge in your stomach where his cock was buried. “Regardless to how you feel about me, whether you hate me, loathe me, or tolerate me for the sake of the missions: you are my mate. Mine.” 

You took a moment to think on it, rolling the thoughts over in your mind and the earlier terror his form induced in you.

“I don’t know if I want that, sir,” you confessed to him in a voice so soft it almost went unheard. Lucci tensed behind you, his muscles growing taut and already beginning to swell into his other form. He tried to calm the beast within down, managing to sate it with a few intentional breaths. Leaning into your ear, his lips and breath tingled the shell and lobe of your skin while he extended his threat with a sense of promise.

“When you wake every day with my face between your thighs, lapping at your cunt and making you cum over and over again on my face, you might change your tune,” he purred, gently tugging on your lobe with his extended canines. “When you take my knot in my office, crying and squirting on it while I hold a vibrator against that pearl at the top of your pussy, you will have it melt into your memory.” You squeaked as you felt his hand dip down between your legs and gave the tip still pulsing at the top of your pussy a gentle pinch, “When the other Zoan’s notice my scent on your body, taste our lust in the air, and see my seed dripping down your thighs beneath your uniform, you will know for sure.” 

“Know what, sir?” You asked him, turning to face him with rounded eyes. His human eyes swelled into yellowed slits, his pupils blowing in lust as he rolled your arousal around your slick pussy. His cock swelled within you, although his knot began to deflate. He slowly began to rock into you, fucking his cum back into you with slow and heavy motions. 

“You’ll know who you belong to,” he whispers, his lips meeting the corner of your mouth as his bucking kept its steady pace, “You’ll know who will protect you as his own.” His lips traveled further up to half covering your mouth. “You’ll know who will never leave you for wanting in this life.” His hand drew up to the tip of his cock buried within you, pushing down on your stomach while he fucked steadily into you. “You’ll know you’re mine.” 

“Yours?” you gasped, already feeling the need begin to rouse in your abdomen. Lucci’s lips covered your own, his pace beginning to pick up as he felt his own need swell in his stomach within his human body. Tongues colliding, teeth gnashing, he sloppily fucked into you while he passionately kissed you with all of the emotion he no longer repressed. While it was not yet love, you could feel the beginnings of the fresh sparks rising between you. Pulling away, he bore his intense and possessive gaze into your eyes, uttering one word that had you immediately almost cum there and then.

“Mine.”

And you were his, just as much as he was yours.

Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @the-light-of-star @empirenowmp3 @racfoam @sunflowersatori @carrotsunshine @skullfacedlady @jintaka-hane @thenotsofantasticlifestory

[wandasaura]

THE ONE YOU REACHED FOR

summary — after you decide to be a brat as a means to get natasha’s attention, she punishes you, though wanda thinks she’s entirely too soft

warning(s) — married wandanat, dom/sub relationship, bratting, punishment, grinding, humiliation, spanking, orgasm control, daddy kink, minor choking, strap-on usage, degrading, praise, oh so much reassurance, aftercare, wanda being a menace, reader being a menace right back, essentially enemies to lovers but reader’s stubborn, men/minors dni

authors note — this series was inspired by gold rush on ao3! i highly recommend checking it out! that being said, i may have gotten carried away with this dynamic but i absolutely adore wandanat and the budding relationship between wanda and r (even if r is too stubborn to see it yet), apart of the you are in love universe

you are in love universe

♥️⊹ ˚ . 18+, men/minors dni ⁺ 𓈒 ꒰💌꒱ ♡ ･ mommy maximoff ✧

Natasha’s office was cold. Your legs and arms were adorned in a layer of goosebumps that even a night in the Antarctic would envy, but she made no indication that she even noticed your violent shivering. You were just thankful she hadn’t made you face the wall, at least now you could watch as she sifted through emails and excel word documents with ease. Your nose scrunched in disgust when you caught sight of a particularly grueling math equation, but she had tackled it with grace, something she did frequently. Nothing could rattle her composure, not even your brattiness on the hottest summer day New Jersey had seen all season.

You heard Wanda’s footsteps before you saw her, but there was no doubt in your mind that the auburn-haired Sokovian was the one coming up the stairs. Nobody else had a key to the house, nobody save from you and well, you were already inside. The Maximoff’s were a high profile couple. Even before you’d gotten into a relationship with Natasha had you known of their existence. It was hard not to know of them, their multi-billion dollar law firm was at the top of its game and every celebrity and major corporation wanted them on their side. You’d want them on your side too if it ever came down to it, but thankfully you’d managed to stay out of trouble. Legally at least.

You saw Wanda before Natasha did, though you knew the scarlet-haired woman had heard her office door squeak on its hinges when she entered. Your cheeks flushed pink when Wanda’s eyes met yours and she raised a questioning brow at your predicament. She didn’t address you, no she completely ignored you in favor of sparking up conversation with her wife, the woman you had initially sought attention from.

“What’s she doing here?” Wanda questioned smoothly, her perfectly manicured hands finding their rightful place on Natasha’s shoulders, working out a knot near the nape of her neck. You huffed your annoyance, watching them with narrowed eyes as you pulled your arms closer around your torso and tried to keep warm. Initially, the cold had been comforting. It was blisteringly hot outside, and when you’d entered your cheeks had been flush from the sun, but now you wished Natasha would turn down the air conditioning or at least take pity on your chattering teeth and throw you the hoodie that laid unused on the couch beside her.

“Wanted attention. She almost had it too.” Natasha shrugged, turning her head just enough to meet Wanda’s waiting lips. Their kiss was sweet, nothing short of marital, but it made your belly burn with envy as you watched Wanda get what you wanted.

“She’s freezing, Nat.” Wanda rolled her eyes softly, having noticed the slightest tint of blue that adorned your usually very pink lips. She reached for the hoodie on the couch, chucking it over to you despite her wife’s protests. That was all the attention you received before she was back to being entirely occupied with her wife. “How long has she been in the corner?”

“Mm, bought half an hour.” Natasha mused only half interested in the conversation Wanda was attempting to have, her fingers already back to typing frantically on the noisy keyboard. Typically, you loved the sound of her typing. It was fast paced and soothing, but now you wanted nothing more than to throw the keyboard across the room and demand she never touched it again. You were in no position to be making such demands, but still you let yourself imagine the satisfaction of the action.

You slipped the hoodie over your head, smoothing down your wild hair the second your hands had slipped past the tight cuffs at the bottom of the sleeves. The article was warm and well worn, though all you really cared to notice was how it smelled distinctly of citrus and calm. You could identify the softest note of coconut and maybe mandarin, and your brows furrowed. Natasha wore vanilla. She never ventured into anything fruity, claiming she herself was fruity enough to spare the general public of smelling it too. That meant the hoodie had to be Wanda’s, and while irrational, you felt like it burned your skin by just touching you.

“What’d she do? Bite too hard?” Wanda teased, not even glancing in your direction despite you being the topic of conversation. It was utterly humiliating, but you’ve learned to expect nothing less when Wanda’s around. The woman has a real knack for getting under your skin, intentional or not. “You should really train your pet better.”

“I’m not a pet.” You huffed out, crossing your arms over your chest defiantly, but your outburst was ignored by both women. If you didn’t know superpowers were just a thing of fiction, you would’ve believed that you’d become invisible.

Natasha laughed at Wanda’s assumption, though she shook her head in response. “I asked her to give me five minutes. All the money I give her, you’d think she would’ve gotten herself a watch. Needy little thing couldn’t even last three before she was crawling into my lap and trying to undress me.”

“You're answering Pepper’s emails.” Wanda laughed amusedly, completely bypassing Natasha’s summary of events, not at all surprised by your unwillingness to be patient. Patience seemed to be your biggest undoing, even after seven months of being taught the importance of it. “She’ll have a heart attack. It hasn’t sat in your inbox for at least two weeks yet.”

You couldn’t see Natasha’s face, but you could imagine her rolling her eyes. After almost a year of being under contract with the lawyer, you’d come to know her mannerisms like the back of your hand. This type of back and forth wasn’t new to you, but it’s the first time you’d been forced to watch without any kind of attention yourself. To say you hated it was an understatement.

“Did I tell you that you could leave that corner?” Natasha growled, not even having to look over her shoulder to know that you were starting to migrate toward them. Your footsteps were light, perfectly inaudible, but as well as you knew her, she knew you even better.

“I want you!” You whined rather petulantly, not caring how you came across, not caring that you’d probably just earned yourself at least twenty spanks for not only talking back to her but for leaving your post before you’d been given permission. You’d played this game too many times before. Wanda had seen you play this game too many times. But still, you never learned how to make things easy for yourself.

“Did I tell you that you could leave that corner?” Natasha all but growled, still not turning around to give you even a sliver of attention. Your usual soft and attentive dominant was uncharacteristically cruel today, and you couldn’t help but think that maybe you were toeing a little too close to the line

“No.” You answered meekly, digging your naked toes into the hardwood floors beneath your feet. Shame flooded your senses, a desperate need to be good coming over you and she hadn’t even touched you yet. “Please Daddy. I don’t wanna stand in the corner anymore. It’s cold!”

“I swear, Nat. You need to do something about her attitude.” Wanda remarked, her eyes focused on her perfectly manicured fingers as she poked and pushed at her cuticles, entirely uninterested in your predicament.

“Yeah? And what would you suggest?” Natasha scoffed rather uninterestedly, switching through her tabs until she’d gotten back to her excel spreadsheet and transferred whatever finances she’d been focusing on for the last hour.

“Oh, I’d break her.” Wanda snorted, highly amused that Natasha thought you’d be able to handle whatever punishment she would have dished out for your disobedience. “That little girl doesn’t want to know what I’d do to her.”

Your insides burned at Wanda’s implication, and you couldn’t decipher if it was your burning hatred for her and her constant need to appear smug and all powerful, or if it was your desperate curiosity to take her up on that challenge that sparked such feeling in your belly. Whatever it was, it only added to the growing need between your thighs.

“Daddy.” You whined, shuffling on your feet as you contemplated going completely against her and approaching her lap with a pleading gaze, or retreating back to the corner until she deemed you sorry enough to leave it. “Please.”

“You’ve got a brat to tame, Romanoff.” Wanda mused, pressing one last kiss to Natasha’s cheek before she took up space on the two-person couch pressed up against the wall and just beneath the tightly closed and locked window.

“We both know that’s your forte.” Natasha scoffed, huffing out a laugh as she returned her attention to whatever problem Pepper was emailing her about. After seven months, you’d become well versed in the names and job descriptions of most of their employees, and you knew that if Pepper was emailing Natasha for anything at all, that it was important. A pit formed in your belly thinking about how you couldn’t even wait five minutes before taking her attention into your own hands. Clearly you’d interrupted something important.

“Daddy!” You pleaded, tears brimming your eyes as your guilt and desperate need consumed you. You weren’t sure which feeling was the cause for your tears, probably both, but you were at your breaking point and her silent game was only working to undo you faster than you could tolerate it. “Please.” You cried out weakly, nervously chewing on the string of the hoodie, not caring if Wanda would be repulsed by the action, nor if you ruined her hoodie because of it.

“Out of your mouth.” The Sokovian redhead demanded, not harshly, but not kindly either. You hadn’t even realized her eyes had been watching your movements, but your cheeks burned at the reprimand and the string of the hoodie, now damp from your tongue and teeth, dropped back to where it had previously been hanging. You hated giving her the satisfaction of your obedience, but your brain was too overwhelmed to be anything but compliant.

Your nails took the place of the hoodie’s string, already bitten down to the bone as a result of your crippling anxiety and desire to fidget with anything and everything. Natasha had been attempting to break that nasty habit, but she wasn’t around nearly enough for her efforts to be consistent. You saw her a handful of times a week, some days for the sole purpose of engaging in kink, sometimes just because she liked to know you as a person just as much as she liked to know you as her submissive, but there were weeks where she was needed on business and the best you’d get was a measly phone call and text messages. If you weren’t contractually binded, and had met by chance, you would have no hesitation about considering her a friend, though you liked much more to call her your daddy.

“Come here, baby.” Natasha demanded, pushing away from her desk and swiveling on the chair until her eyes met yours. You’d half expected Wanda to reprimand her for being too soft with you, but it seemed even the Sokovian could tell that you’d passed the point of being bratty and were now drowning in your own thoughts. There was a fine line between punishment and neglect, and even if the lawyer thought you were in need of serious correction, she’d be cruel to even consider leaving you in this state.

You approached Natasha hurriedly, sinking into her lap without hesitation. Your arms looped around her neck tightly, almost challenging her to even attempt to break your grip and send you back to the corner. “Don’t like bein’ ignored.” You sniffled, digging your face into her shoulder, hiding away from Wanda’s heavy gaze and the shame of your previous actions.

“Neither does Daddy.” Natasha stated matter of factly, only adding to the shame that was bubbling over in your belly. Her head rested heavily on the back of your head, allowing you to stay hidden as you attempted to keep yourself together. “Don’t think I’ve gotten about your snarky comment toward Wanda either, or how you deliberately disobeyed me when you took it upon yourself to leave the corner.”

You already knew where she was going with this line of conversation, and you whined pleadingly into her neck, desperate to just avoid another round of punishment in favor of being satisfied. Your hips rocked against hers, your fingers curling into her hair the way you know she likes, tugging gently when you weren’t immediately rewarded with a soft moan. Your bout of regret having clearly been forgotten about as you resumed the bratty tactics that had gotten you into the predicament in the first place.

A sharp sting spread up your thigh in seconds, the sharp sound of flesh meeting flesh echoing around the otherwise quiet office. You gasped in shock, pulling your face away from her neck to look deep into her eyes and search for forgiveness, but all you found was annoyance. You huffed, knowing that you were too far in to back down now, and so tauntingly, you resumed the act of rocking your hips into hers, not lost on the fact that she had a strap confined beneath her business slacks.

“Is it the red one I like, Daddy?” You asked coyly, letting your hand drop from where it was wrapped around her shoulders and teasingly venture down between the valley of her breasts until you came to the bulge in her pants. You squeezed experimentally, rewarded with her breathy moan when the hilt of the harness pressed against her clit, confirmation that she was at least half as worked up as you.

“Have I taught you nothing, Natalia?” Wanda growled, watching the scene unfold before her. You’d almost forgotten she was even in the room, and daringly your eyes snapped to hers. Wanda didn’t fold beneath your heavy glare, merely matching your stare with disinterest in her eyes. Natasha would’ve met your glare. She would’ve narrowed her eyes and silently dared you to keep up with that attitude, but Wanda acted like you weren’t shooting daggers through her. “If you do not want me to come over there and handle you myself, you will fix your attitude, brat.” The slight rasp in Wanda’s tone was undeniably a turn on, but you wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of knowing she had gotten to you. Instead, you stuck your tongue out at her, unsure of how else you were meant to defy her wishes.

Before Wanda could get off the couch, a tick in her jaw at your blatant defiance, Natasha’s fingers were twisting into your hair and tugging your attention back to her. Your glare softened immediately, and sweetly, you placed a kiss on the corner of her mouth.

“Do I need to remind you of our rules?” She warned, and you huffed in defeat, wringing your hands together in your lap as you shook your head. “Then you will drop your attitude and apologize to Wanda.”

“I didn’t even do anything, Daddy!” You groaned, throwing your hands up in exasperation.

Clearly that wasn’t the response Natasha was looking for, because in only a matter of seconds you were being hauled off her lap but a handful of your hair and forced to bend over the edge of the desk she’d been occupying for the last hour. “What is rule number six?” She growled in your ear, her hot and heavy breath only adding to the goosebumps that adorned your skin. You’d almost forgotten about them at this point, entirely warmed by her body being so close to yours and the hoodie over your shoulders, but now the memory of them was back and your teeth chattered in response.

A heavy hand met your denim covered ass cheek and your whined, back arching upward in an attempt to dodge her next hit. “What is rule number six?” She asked through gritted teeth, forcing you back into position the way she liked.

“I will show respect to Daddy and her friends.” You huffed, “But Wanda’s not your friend! She’s your wife! That’s not in the rules!”

“She is my wife, that’s right. That means you should not only show her respect, but worship the ground she walks on, not be a disobedient brat.” Natasha seethed, landing another harsh spank to the softest spot of your thigh, not caring that you’re particularly sensitive there, nor that you let out a sharp cry of pain that was in no way mixed with pleasure in response. You’d always hated when she spanked the back of your thighs. It was one of your only limitations when you’d been filling out the contract. It wasn’t a hard no, she never would’ve struck you there if it was, but it was something you’d requested be done sparingly, and clearly you’d worked her up enough to earn yourself one.

“M’kay.” You sniffled, burying your face in your folded arms, not wanting to even spare Wanda a glance. You were absolutely certain there was a smug smile on her lips as she watched you finally be dealt with, but something told you this was the bottom of the barrel when it came to punishments she was capable of.

“How many spanks do you get when you break a rule?” Natasha asked lowly, her left hand still tangled into your hair, and she pulled sharply, forcing your back to arch in her direction, not allowing you the dignity to hide away.

“Ten.” You cried out weakly, trying to alleviate the sting in your scalp as you followed your hand. You’d always been flexible, years of sports and training had assured that, but not even that could completely help you in this situation as she pulled back farther and farther until you stopped struggling in her grip and just admitted defeat. You could safeword if you needed to. Punishments were not an exception to your comfort, but you trusted her to not push your limits, and shamefully, you knew that you needed this. You’d feel too guilty to cope if she completely forwent punishment.

“And how many rules have you broken?” She asked, the softest tinge of her accent bleeding into her words as she let herself completely surrender to her dominant headspace. You always loved when you worked her up to this point, but you hated that this time it was a result of your bratty actions that had done it.

“Um, I don’t know.” You sniffled, but clearly that wasn’t the right answer as she tugged at your hair again, ignoring your sharp cry and the twitch of your fingers as you held onto the edge of the desk.

“What are the rules?” Natasha asked, only slackening her grip the slightest bit. It helped with the sting in your scalp, but it wasn’t completely gone yet.

“I will tell Daddy what I need and what makes me uncomfortable. I will drink at least one bottle of water a day. I will show respect to Daddy and her friends. I will not touch myself without permission. I will not cum without permission. I will use my safeword if I need to. I deserve aftercare.” You rattled off the list with a practiced ease, having practically had the rules engraved in your mind since the very first week of the arrangement.

“Did you tell me that you were feeling anxious being left in that corner?” Natasha’s voice was soft, her grip in your hair gentle and comforting. She let you rest against her chest, your punishment temporarily forgotten as she walked you through the reason behind the awaiting spanking.

Even Wanda had softened in the corner of the room, looking at you with a gleam of something indistinguishable in her eyes. You hated the sight of it, but you couldn’t look away with Natasha’s hand in your hair, so instead you opted to close your eyes, and Natasha allowed you to. Talking about your anxiety was not your favorite pastime, and it was typically avoided whenever Wanda or anyone else was around, but it seems today you wouldn’t get that courtesy. You knew you could safeword, you knew you could ask for Wanda to step out during this conversation at the very least, but as much as you don’t like her, you thought she deserved some kind of explanation for your earlier actions when you’d found comfort in destroying her hoodie. She had to have some idea by now. Natasha offered you too much reassurance for it to have gone completely unnoticed. You’d rather her have the answers then speculate.

“No, Daddy.” You whispered shamefully. “I-I was okay until Wanda said you were answering Pepper. I didn’t like you ignoring me, but I wasn’t anxious.”

“What made you anxious?” Natasha asked calmly, fully loosening her grip on your hair, instead settling for scratching softly at your scalp and letting you melt fully into her, her unoccupied arm wrapping around your torso and keeping you close. You’d never had a dominant prior to Natasha. You’d tested the waters with previous partners sure, but you’d never actively pursued it in the way that you were now. Natasha’s dominance over you didn’t stop once you left the bedroom, and unlike your previous flings, she always tried to understand your triggers so she could avoid them in the future, both sexually and domestically.

“Pepper only emails you when it’s important. I couldn’t be good for five minutes and I interrupted you when you were busy. After I barged in unannounced. I felt– I feel bad.” You whispered softly, dropping your chin to your chest, desperately craving her touch and correction. Nothing would calm the raging storm of guilt in your belly until she punished you. You wouldn’t be able to forgive yourself until you knew that she did, and words weren’t enough.

“Pepper does email me for important things most times, but she was only asking about the colors of the banquet, milyy. If it was important, I would have told you that.” Natasha gently informs, and your shoulders deflate in relief. You hadn’t even realized you’d been so tense, but with the promise that you hadn’t entirely disrupted her, you could relax. “Why didn’t you safeword? You know that if you start to feel anxious, no matter what, I expect you to safeword.”

“I thought I deserved to feel bad for interrupting you and being bad.” You muttered shyly, acutely aware of how Wanda’s breath caught in her throat at your explanation. You hadn’t ever shown this side of yourself to her. It was always Natasha alone who had the misfortune of catching you in an episode of panic.

“You are not bad. You are never bad. I do not want to hear you say that again, do you understand, detka?” Natasha asked sternly, and you merely shrugged.

“I was mean to Wanda, and I interrupted you, and I didn’t listen. That’s three rules. Please Daddy.” Natasha knew you needed her to spank you. You needed to clear your head, and you needed her to help you, but she wouldn’t relent until she heard you repeat her words.

“In a second, milyy.” She assured you gently, her hand leaving your hair entirely in favor of spinning you around in her arms and tilting your chin upward until you had no choice but to look her in the eye. “I want you to tell me that you are not bad.”

“I’m not bad.” You didn’t believe it. She knew you didn’t believe it, but for right now, she let it go. A soft kiss was placed on the tip of your nose, a sweet action that you had made clear you adored. Unlike the giggles it usually provoked, you merely smiled weakly and leaned into her touch.

“You’re getting thirty spanks. We’ll see if you deserve my strap after that.” Natasha nodded, content for the moment. She spun you back around, making quick word of the button and zipper on your denim shorts. Your cheeks flushed red, remembering the specific choice of underwear you’d chosen that morning. Baby pink flowers adorned your ass, and the somewhat frilly elastic edges were a gentle shade of green that would make Natasha’s eyes pop if she held it up to her face.

You felt entirely exposed knowing that Wanda was witnessing this and seeing your less than sexy underwear, but it wasn’t the first time she’s seen you be bent over a surface in her house. You remembered vividly the last time she had watched Natasha spank you. It had been after a long day in the office, and Wanda had come home to find you bent over the arm of the couch. She made a joke that Natasha intended to christen every piece of furniture in the house, and while it hadn’t been funny to you, Natasha had laughed loudly and freely in response.

“You will count after each one. If you mess up, we’re starting over. Do you understand?” She asked, pressing down on your back and assuring that you understood where you were meant to remain for the duration of your spanking. You were on your tippy toes, the top of your thighs pressing into the edge of her desk, but you didn’t have the right to complain about the uncomfortable position, so you merely nodded your head and braced for the first hit.

It came seconds later, powerful and unforgiving on your left asscheek. You felt the flesh bounce in response, and the string that was left behind was so sinfully pleasant that you ground your teeth together and choked out a harsh, “One, Daddy.”

The second hit was delivered all the same, left in the same exact spot with a practiced precision. Leave it to Natasha to have good enough hand-eye contact to be able to leave a handprint on your ass so vividly you’d see it leftover for days. The third hit came to your right asscheek, and a gush of arousal further dampened your already saturated panties. The flowers beneath your sopping entrance were undoubtedly a dark shade of pink by now, and you could only imagine what the sight looked like to her.

The fourth and fifth spank came directly after one another, and you counted them off rather breathlessly as her hand gently massaged your stinging flesh until it was nothing more than a pleasant ache. Your eyes were pinched shut, your breathing was shallow, but you craved the next hit, and when it didn’t come, you whined in protest and pushed your ass out toward her hips.

“Begging for me to spank you. How pathetic.” Natasha taunted, though she didn’t disappoint, and the next spank came quickly after, directed toward the center of your ass.

By sixteen, there were tears in your eyes and a desperate pulse in your clit, but you hadn’t miscounted nor forgotten about numbers entirely, and Natasha was beaming with pride. “Good girl.” She cooed, her fingers trailing over your panties until she came upon the wet patch between the apex of your thighs. “So fucking wet. Does it turn you on when Daddy spanks your ass?”

Natasha knows that it does. You’ve asked for enough spankings in the last seven months to prove that fact to her, but she still finds a way to humiliate you every time you find yourself bent over as punishment. There is a very thin line between a maintenance spanking and a punishment, but you know that by time you reach the thirtieth spank you’ll have crossed the threshold of pleasurable pain. “Y-Yes. Daddy please. Please.”

“What do you want, detka? Use your words. You had no problem using them earlier when you wanted to mouth off with my wife.” All the while her hand was still buried between your thighs, avoided your clit with skilled ease, and it was slowly driving you insane. Her index finger pushed against your entrance overtop of your panties, not enough to provide any semblance of pleasure, but still enough to make your knees tremble beneath your awkwardly supported weight.

“Spank me. Please, Daddy, spank me!” You sobbed, attempting to reach for the edge of the desk in a weak attempt to ground yourself in the moment, but with your half-floating position, you found that it was just out of reach and you cried out in frustration as you settled for digging your blunt fingernails into her desk instead.

You hadn’t noticed Wanda approaching you, too lost in the pleasure of Natasha’s fingers on your cunt and the delicious sting in your ass, but you felt her nonetheless. Her hands, so soft and warm compared to the freezing temperature of the office, found a place on your lower back that was still covered by the thick material of her sweatshirt.

“Shh, dorogoy.” She soothed you gently, a stark contrast to her typical cold and sharp tone. You didn’t have any fight left in you to care about her close proximity to you, and desperately you scrounged about until your hand found hers and squeezed tightly. It was at that moment that Natasha resumed her prior actions, and a harsh and sharp spank landed on your left asscheck.

“Seventeen, Daddy!” You cried out, squeezing Wanda’s hand tightly. You were beginning to regret breaking so many rules. You were still thirteen spanks away from being forgiven, and that pleasurable pain that you found comfort in was turning bitter the harsher she was with you. You needed this, both of you knew that, but that never made it any easier to swallow in the moment. Tomorrow, you’d think twice before sitting down for meals or tasks, you’d fondly poke at your sore ass and giggle at the dull ache that brought a sense of comfort and security over you, but for right now, it was torture, especially when you were so desperate for release.

Her hits only seemed to get harsher and stronger as you got closer to thirty, but Wanda didn’t pull away even for a second and every so often Natasha would whisper praises in your ear that made your insides turn to mush. You were lost in your head, mindlessly counting out numbers with no real acknowledgement for what they meant, just desperate to please her. It was only when you reached number twenty five that Natasha switched up her tactics and paused for a moment, taking the time to undress you fully and surrender your body to the harsh cold of her office.

You whined when your pebbled nipples met the cold surface of her desk, already sensitive without the stimulating chilled surface. You squirmed for only a second before Natasha reprimanded you for trying to find a comfortable position, stilling immediately in fear of her adding more spanks or taking away your right to feel her cock in your pussy as a reward. This was a punishment, you would take it how she gave it unless you absolutely couldn’t.

“Five more.” She promised, leaving a soft kiss in the middle of your back. “I want you to tell me you’re not bad after each one, is that understood?”

When you didn’t answer, entirely lost in the blissful beginning of subspace, Wanda gently captured your attention, showing you a glimpse of her softer side. A side you would see more of if you didn’t try to get under her skin each and every time she was around. “Daddy asked you a question, milyy. She expects an answer.”

Breathing out shakily, you nodded your head. “Understood, Daddy.”

“Good girl.” Natasha hummed, but that was the last offer of praise you were given before her hand clapped against the skin of your thigh and you whined and keened in response, trying to wiggle away from her harsh hits.

“No, Daddy!” You sobbed, your hand desperately fighting against Wanda’s hold. She let you go instantly, and you didn’t hesitate to reach down and rub at the sore spot she left with a deep pout on your lips. “Ow!” You whined, tears slipping past your eyes and dampening your cheeks as your shoulders trembled.

“Shh.” Natasha and Wanda cooed in sync, and if you weren’t so spaced out you would’ve rolled your eyes at their alikeness. “I know it hurts, milyy. I know you don’t like it, but this is important to Daddy. It’s important to me that you know you’re not bad. Only four more. You’re being such a good girl. My best girl. Making Daddy so proud, taking your punishment so good. Let Wanda hold your hand, and it’ll be over soon. Then you’ll get me cock. Okay?” Natasha gently fussed over your state of upset, the pads of her thumbs wiping the tears off of your face. You leaned into her gentle touch, savoring it before you nodded weakly.

The next hit came just as harsh as the first, but you’d been expecting it at the very least, and hadn’t had such a violent reaction. Wanda praised you through the entire ordeal, not even considering reprimanding you when your voice grew hoarse and you barely remembered to echo the words Natasha had asked you to repeat. She got the hint that this was one of your softer limits, so she settled for talking you through it rather than demanding you show her partner some respect. She felt so full of warmth as she watched you take the last three spanks with minimal complaints, knowing the level of trust it took to allow a dominant to use a weakness against you, even if it wasn’t in any way ill intended.

“No more, Daddy! No more. Please.” You sobbed when the last hit came, your thighs a gentle shade of pink that Natasha would have fussed over had she not been entirely too committed to making sure you were okay. Your thighs were slick with arousal, your clit pulsed with need, and she had every intention of making it better once she got you to calm down.

“No more. You did so good for me, detka. My good girl. Daddy’s so proud of you.” She cooed gently, pulling you up off the desk and into her waiting arms. You melted against her chest, pliant and putty in her hands as she gently massaged your stinging ass, careful to leave your thighs alone for the time being.

“I’m sorry.” You sobbed, fisting her shirt in your trembling fists, suddenly very aware of how clothed she and Wanda were in comparison to you. Even your pink and green panties had been discarded on the floor in a pile, the scent of your arousal heavy and thick in the air.

“All’s forgiven, milyy. You’re okay.” She reassured, peppering tiny kisses into the crown of your head before she pulled away completely and eased you back onto her desk, this time allowing you to rest on your back in a comfortable position. Her skilled fingers dipped between your dripping folds, collecting your wetness that awaited and begged for her touch. “You’re so wet. Is this all for me?” She teased gently, bringing her fingers up toward her mouth. Her tongue darted out to sweep against the digits, and she moaned in delight at the taste of you. It had been entirely too long since she’d gotten to properly devour you, but that would have to wait until a later date. She didn’t have the heart to leave you hanging any longer then she already had, especially not when you’d been such a good girl for her.

“Please.” You begged, your hooded eyes tracing her movements as she sucked her fingers clean and let them leave her mouth with an audible pop as she abruptly broke the suction. “Please, I want your cock. I’ve been good! Please Daddy, I want you inside of me!”

“You’ve been so good, little one. The best girl.” Natasha affirmed, already working on the button of her business pants. You watched her intently, not paying Wanda the slightest bit of attention though you should’ve known better than that. When you were distracted with the sight of Wanda, the Sokovian woman to your right had taken it upon yourself to work you up even further, clearly not yet satisfied with the length of time you’d had to wait to get to this very moment.

Her fingers found your nipple in only a matter of seconds, and you gasped out in a mixture of shock and pain when she pinched and pulled at your sensitive buds cynically. You arched up into her touch, not sure if you wanted more of it or none of it, and your eyes fluttered closed. Wanda didn’t like that your attention was no longer on Natasha, and she made that clear when she twisted your left nipple harshly. “Eyes open. Your Daddy may have forgiven you, but I’ve yet to get an apology.”

Your eyes snapped open at her words, frantically searching for Natasha as you refocused on her half undressed body. Her black pants were on in a heap on the floor residing beside your own pile of clothes, but her shit was still buttoned over her chest, wrinkled from your tight grip and somewhat disheveled from how aggressively she’d pulled you flush against her at the beginning of your punishment.

Your lips parted in lust when you caught sight of the red strap-on between her thighs. She hadn’t confirmed your suspicions before, but now it was undeniable that throughout this entire ordeal, she’d been packing your favorite toy between her thick and strong thighs. A needy whine left your lips when Wanda harshly slapped at your tits, the soft mounds of flesh bouncing as a result of her hits.

“I don’t think you deserve to be fucked by your favorite toy after mouthing off to me, but you’re Daddy’s too kind to go get a different one. You should thank her.” She hadn’t said you didn’t deserve to be fucked at all, but something about the idea of Natasha switching to a smaller strap seemed like a worse punishment then being left high and dry all together, and feverishly you thanked her for her generosity, not wanting to risk the chance of Wanda’s words actually packing a punch.

Gently, Natasha guided the tip of the strap into your entrance, letting you get accustomed to the stretch before she completely bottomed out inside of you. She’d only gotten the red strap recently, three weeks ago after a business trip to LA, and while you adored it and took it like a champ every time she pulled it out, it was significantly girthier than any of the other ones that resided in her and Wanda’s collection. She didn’t want to hurt you, no matter how many times you told her to be rough.

“Move. Daddy, move please! Fuck me!” You begged, writhing beneath Wanda’s hot hands as she kept up with her ministations on your sensitive and aching nipples.

“You want me to move, pretty girl? You want me to fuck this needy cunt?” Natasha’s thumb found your clit easily, and she rubbed harsh circles along your sensitive bundle of nerves the way she knew you liked it, perfectly content with the knowledge that you wouldn’t last a full five minutes if she kept up the way she was. She was close herself. The strap had been rubbing against her clit since she’d put it on that morning, not knowing you’d show up, but anticipating it anyways. She really did know you like the back of her hand.

“Please! Please! Please Daddy, I want it! I need it!” You babbled needily, uncaring for how you came across to Wanda. You arched into the touch of the Sokovian, you desperately leaned into the strap, your body attempting to stretch in multiple directions as you chased after all of the sensations the two married women were providing your already overstimulated body.

Natasha didn’t need to hear you beg anymore. She set a brutal pace as she snapped her hips, rocking the dildo into your pussy and simultaneously chasing the pressure it put on her clit. She toyed with your clit in unwavering determination to see you fall apart, her eyes pinched shut as she chased after her own pleasure and provided you with yours. Your incoherent babbling was like music to her ears as she pulled your thighs further apart and thrust deeper into your pussy, hammering your sensitive and tight walls with a punishing pace.

“G-Gonna cum! Daddy! Please! Please! I want to c-cum! Please!” You pleaded and writhed, thankful that Wanda had eased off your nipples and you could now focus fully on the sensations that spread through your body from the way Natasha worked your cunt.

“Is that how you ask?” Wanda teased, her hot hand laying softly on your neck. She didn’t squeeze, she wouldn’t without your explicit permission, which she didn’t have, but just the thought of her choking you like Natasha did had your mind reeling and the desperation growing. “Ask nicely.”

“Please can I cum Daddy? Please!” You sobbed, feeling the coil ready to snap with or without Natasha’s explicit permission. You so desperately wanted to be good, wanted to prove yourself not only to her but to Wanda, who seemed to question if you even knew the definition of obedience, but you couldn’t stave off your orgasm for much longer. You’d been desperate for her touch all day, and now that you finally had it the way that you wanted it, it was almost impossible to deny yourself that release.

“Cum for me, baby. Cum all over my cock. Daddy’s gonna cum with you.” Natasha grunted in a manner that was so hot you nearly lost your mind. With Wanda’s hand still loosely around your neck and Natasha’s quick thrust and skilled fingers working you over, you fell over the edge and into a blinding orgasm that had tears falling from your eyes. That blissful taste of subspace that you’d been experiencing since spank seventeen took over in full force, and with the resolution of your climax, you surrendered to the fuzzy feeling in your mind.

Natasha kissed you gently, her tongue still tasting like your arousal from when she’d licked her fingers clean, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care about the taste of you on her lips. Your eyes fluttered closed when she stilled her hips and subsequently the dildo, drinking in every physical reminder of her touch like you were scared she’d vanish completely if you didn’t appreciate it.

When she started to pull out, wanting to rid herself of the harness after wearing it for so many hours, you whined in response, desperately pulling her closer to you. The strap-on rubbed against your sensitive walls in a way that was unpleasant at best, and you mourned the loss of the full feeling inside of you before it was even really gone.

“Not today, detka.” Natasha knew what you wanted. She knew how you liked to keep her strap buried inside of you for as long as she allowed after a session like this, but she couldn’t ignore her own discomfort for any longer, even if it meant bringing tears to your eyes. “Shh, it’s okay. Daddy’s still here.” She reassured softly, peppering kisses all over your face as she softly pulled the dildo out of you. You winced when your pussy squelched, a reminder of the wetness that still clung to your lower lips and thighs, but both women soothed your embarrassment with praises and reassurance.

“Clean yourself up.” Wanda nodded toward her wife, already managing to detangle your limbs from Natasha’s and exchange them for her own. It wasn’t the first time she’d assisted during aftercare, but it was the first time you’d been so far gone during it. She knew Natasha though, and the weight of the scene would surely dawn on her in only a handful of minutes now that she wasn’t being fuelled by adrenaline, and when that happened, when the crash came, Wanda knew that the Russian would want to be cleaned up and warm. “I’ll bring her to our bed. You need to focus on you for a couple of minutes.”

“Go with Wanda, baby.” Natasha didn’t argue with her wife, pressing a short kiss to both of your heads before she helped Wanda get a hold of you and cradle you to her chest. You had barely even recognized the shift, too sleepy and blissed out to realize that you were being carried away from Natasha and toward the warm master bedroom down the hall.

Wanda was gentle with you, and despite your hesitance to accept her help when you were in a fully sound headspace, you leaned into her now, craving more of her touch. Your glassy eyes searched for hers as she laid you gently in the center of the bed, already missing the warmth that she provided. You whined in protest, but Wanda only shushed you gently and stalked off toward the en-suite bathroom. You knew this routine well, but you were not at all fond of it.

A soft cry left your lips when you realized that you were all alone in their bed, and while their perfume lingered on the pillows and blankets, mixing together to create the most perfect and calming scent, it wasn’t as fulfilling as actually having them with you. The faucet running in the bathroom caught your attention, and just as you attempted to scramble off of the bed and follow the sound, Wanda’s voice had you stopping in your tracks and sinking into the plethora of pillows that surrounded you.

“Stay there, little one. I’ll be there in just a second.” She called out quietly, though her voice was laced with dominance that you couldn’t ignore. You whined pleadingly, looking between the open en-suite door and the hallway, desperate for either her or Natasha to come back and hold you. “Natty will be back soon. She’s probably getting you some water and a snack. You were such a good girl for her, malysh.”

“Good.” The word felt heavy on your tongue, but by some miracle you had managed to get it passed your lips. Your head was so fuzzy and void of any thoughts, but Wanda still praised your efforts.

When she came back into very, her hair was pinned up by a claw clip that you had seen Natasha wear a handful of times. You never really knew whose things were whose because the women shared everything so interchangeably, but despite your iffy relationship with Wanda, you thought it suited her well.

You were entirely too desperate for physical touch to care about who you sought it from (although secretly you were more than okay with it being Wanda who held you), and when her weight caused the mattress to dip as she joined you on the bed, you practically attacked her with your naked body. Her laughter was like music to your ears as she gently guided you into a lying position, shushing your complaints with a sweet and soft look in her green eyes.

“Such a good girl.” She cooed, dragging the damp washcloth up your inner thighs and over your sticky folds. You whined at the coldness of the rag and the rough material on your sensitive skin, but you made no attempt to wiggle away from it. “I know it’s cold, you’re being so good letting me clean you up. Do you hear that? That’s Natty.” Wanda smiled, effectively distracting you with the sounds of footsteps coming back up the stairs and toward the very room that you occupied.

“Daddy!” You whined, reaching for her the second you saw her in the doorway. As Wanda had promised, she had two bottles of water tucked beneath her arm and a sliced apple on a plate in her hands. She wore a gentle smile, her features no longer saturated in commanding dominance, much like Wanda’s weren’t either, though both women were highly aware of how you’d listen to their every command even without the practiced smolders they gave you.

“Just Natty, baby girl. It’s just Natty. We’re not playing right now, we’re all done.” She cooed gently, setting the plate of apples on the nightstand closest to the door before she reached out to take you into her arms. One bottle of water was passed to Wanda, who opened it thankfully and took a small sip, melting into the pillows against the headboard as she watched her wife fawn over you the way you deserve.

“Natty.” You whispered, preening as her hand found your hair and gently worked out any knots that had formed from when she grabbed you harshly. You melted into her touch, your forehead resting against her clothed stomach, though you took note of the fact that she was no longer wearing her business professional blouse, but rather an old t-shirt from her college years.

“Take a sip for me, baby love.” Natasha coaxed gently, unscrewing the lid on your own bottle of water and holding it up to your lips expectantly. You drank it up greedily, finishing half the bottle before she pulled it away and set it down on the nightstand. “Good girl. You’re such a good girl. Are you going to safeword when you need to next time?” She asked softly, needing to hear your answer for her own peace of mind. The fog in your head had cleared up slightly, and you nodded apologetically.

“It was a bad day.” You whispered softly, knowing that it was no excuse but wanting to give her some context. “I forgot I had an exam in logistics, so when I showed up to class I was completely blindsided. Came here straight after ‘cause I just wanted you and I thought I was okay, then when I thought that I had interrupted something important I just got overwhelmed and didn’t wanna… I don’t even know. Didn’t know how to ask for what I needed. M’sorry. Won't happen again.” You rambled out your apology, pleading with her to understand and forgive you, even though you knew that she already had.

“It makes me feel bad when you don’t safeword, but it’s forgiven. All is forgiven, malen’kiy.” Natasha promised, pressing a gentle kiss to the tip of your nose that was still pink from the flush of your orgasm. Unlike the last time she’d rewarded you with the action, you giggled in response and leaned in closer silently begging her to do it again.

“Are you gonna mouth off to Wanda again?” Natasha teased, her fingers digging into your ribcage as you sat perched on the edge of the bed and looked up at her with wide innocent eyes.

Despite your sore ass and thighs, you shrugged, a mischievous glint in your eyes that no amount of punishment could completely get rid of. “Probably.” You giggled, though there was something undeniably different about your feelings toward the lawyer now. You were too exhausted to figure out what had changed though, and so you left it to be a problem for another day.

Wanda, thoroughly amused with your shameless answer, gently chuckled a pillow in your direction and narrowed her eyes when you turned around to look at her. “Oi, little one. This is still my bed you’re getting all cozy in.”

You merely laughed, falling forward into Natasha’s arms, entirely content with spending the rest of your day wrapped up in her.

[gojorgeous]

“heatwaves”

pairing: alpha!gojo x omega!fem!reader summary: when a work trip takes you to japan, the last thing you expect is a heatwave... and some guy with blue eyes? content: MDNI (18+ only), nsfw, a/b/o dynamics, no established relationship, dubcon (i feel like it’s always kinda dubcon with a/b/o), p->v, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding, biting, blood, marking, spit, praise, swearing, pet names (baby/sweetheart/princess), brief mention/implication of pregnancy, knotting, reader gets picked up, reader is american, reader is unaware of their omega status, reader experiences their first heat, reader and satoru “bond” without having a fully conscious conversation, reader and satoru are early twenties. a/n: it's here! somebody spay me. by popular demand i have written alpha!gojo for you all… just a classic reader goes into an accidental heat at work and (x) character happens to be the nearest alpha LMAO. this is entirely uncreative, but i love it for that!!! straight smut with a little plot if you squint hard enough! i hope it lives up to your expectations. find my alpha!geto fic here and find the list of my 1k event fics here. enjoy and remember, ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED! credits: dividers by @cafekitsune. wc: 5k

Nobody ever told you that Japan was so damn hot. 

Hot was not what came to mind when you’d heard you’d be taking a trip to Tokyo. Temples? Sure. Mt. Fuji? Great. Hot? No fucking way. 

But, here you were, boiling away under the sun on what you’d thought would be a fun little work trip. Instead, you were just suffering with every step, trying to listen to what Principal Yaga was saying and failing miserably. 

“These are the sparring courts. No students right now, but they’ll start training within the hour.” 

You rub at the back of your neck, cringing when your palm comes away coated with a thin layer of sweat. Gross. 

You lift your eyes to the sky, wondering how much longer this was going to take. Your little trip to Japan was to organize an exchange program with Jujutsu Tech. Your students had been begging to take a trip to Tokyo, to where their cursed energy would be closer to the source and, consequently, stronger. You had to admit, it was a good idea. A few months spent training here in Japan would do them good. From the moment you’d set foot on Japanese soil, your power had thrummed faster in your veins than ever before. 

Principal Yaga was giving you a tour of the grounds and had sealed your horrible fate when he’d decided to start outside. You barely heard a word the man said. New York was never this hot…

“Are you alright?” You blink, fanning your face as best you can. It provides no relief. God, it felt like the heat was penetrating your fucking bones… 

When your eyes slide to Principal Yaga, you’re surprised to see that he looks genuinely concerned. “Y-yeah.” You blink again, shocked by your own stutter. Maybe you were coming down with something? “I’m fine, just not used to this kind of heat, I guess.” You fan your face again and clench your jaw when it still does nothing. 

Yaga’s brows furrow and you see him glance around, like he’ll find said heat standing next to him. How was he wearing so many layers? 

“How about we head inside and take a break, then? We can continue the tour… later.” You nearly fall to the ground and kiss his feet. Air conditioning is truly God's gift to man… 

You smile and it’s all genuine. “That would be amazing. Thank you.” 

Yaga nods, but you think his eyes linger on you for just a beat too long before he turns. He still looks confused… or maybe flustered? That only leaves you confused. 

You follow after him, each step feeling like you’re sinking deep into cement. You tug at the collar of your shirt, trying to get some ventilation. When you finally reach the building you nearly sigh with relief. Air conditioning… that’ll be good. Just what you need. A few minutes inside and you’ll be good to go. You’ll just have to remember not to wear so many damn layers again when you continue the tour. 

You’re smiling as you step inside, so ready for relief that you’re practically shaking– but relief never comes. Your brows furrow. You brush your arm through the air. It… doesn’t help. It’s strange– you can feel the coolness of the air conditioning, feel it gliding up and across your skin, but the heat doesn’t subside, doesn’t so much as lessen. 

“I trust you know how to find anything you might–” Yaga clears his throat. “Need?” 

 Your brows furrow. He’d shown you all the school’s resources last night and your room was already stocked with food, toiletries, and every other thing you could possibly need. Of course you knew where everything was… 

“Yes… Thank you.” 

Yaga shifts so uncomfortably you think that maybe he’s about to pee his pants. “Right, well, you have my contact information. Let me know if I can be of assistance in connecting you to any… resources.”

You’re more confused now than you were at the start of this conversation. “Right…” 

“Take care.” 

Yaga shoots you one last– worried?- glance and stalks down the hall. You’re left wondering what the hell is happening in his mind and why he seemed so desperate to offer you resources? 

You blink, clearing your mind as best you can, but some sort of fog seems to be settling over your consciousness. Definitely coming down with something, you think. 

You make your way through the halls, steps still feeling suspiciously heavy and heat still radiating off your body. A cold shower. That’ll help. Or so you thought. The further you walk, the more each hallway starts to look like the next. Was it left or right next? Was this hallway always a dead end? Since when was there a bathroom there?

You’re leaning against the wall now, panting. Something is pooling in your gut, something warm and far too intense. Your inner thighs are wet, too. You want to convince yourself it’s sweat, but… you’re horny. More horny than you’ve ever been in your whole damn life. You think you might die if you don’t get some dick in the next ten minutes. What the fuck?

You slide yourself into the next room you see: an empty classroom. Thank fucking god. You grab the back of a chair, hands shaking with how hard you’re gripping the wood. You take a deep breath. You need to get a hold of yourself, need to figure out what the fuck is happening to you.  

You swallow and try your best to think. It’s not without difficulty. Your head feels like somebody’s filled it with glue. It takes a minute for a coherent thought to come through, but when it does, you think it’s a good one. Doctor. 

Yes– you don’t feel well, so obviously a doctor is the correct choice, right? You scramble for your phone in your back pocket but freeze when the brush of your own hand against your ass sends a jolt up your spine. What the fuck is wrong with you? 

Carefully, you extract your phone from your pocket, but it’s too difficult to even remember your fucking passcode. You press your thighs together, trying to relieve some of the overwhelming ache that’s forming between your legs. Something is definitely wrong.

You fumble with your phone, but your hands are shaking so hard it just tumbles to the floor. 

“Fuck,” you breathe. “Fuck, fuck, fuck?” 

“Yo, who’s baking cookies in here without me?” 

Your head snaps up and, with some difficulty, your eyes settle on a… man. You suck in a breath. He’s… dazzling. He’s wearing all black, but it’s not a student uniform. One of the teachers that you’ve yet to meet, then. White hair and pale skin contrasts against his clothes, but his eyes are covered by a pair of sunglasses set low on his nose. Even in your delirious state you still have the wherewithal to wonder who the fuck wears sunglasses inside. 

You get a quick look at him before a wave of intense- fuck, desire?- washes over you. You tremble again and shock yourself when a whimper tumbles from your lips. 

“Oh, shit,” you hear him say. You glance at him from the corner of your eye and watch him inhale again– deeply. His lips part. “Oh, shit.”

You clench your jaw and tighten your grip on your chair. Your legs are shaking now– you can barely stand. You squeak pitifully. 

The second the sound leaves your throat you hear footsteps– rapid, hurried, concerned, ones. Warm hands clasp your waist and you cry out at the touch, electricity sparking on your skin. 

“Shhh, it’s okay.” He turns you gently to face him, hands steadying your swaying body. “Who the fuck left you alone in here?” His hand is rubbing soothing circles on your lower back now and you think you’ve never felt something so good in your life. It’s so good that you almost miss what he said. Almost. 

“W-What?” You see his brows furrow as you peek up at him. At this angle you can see under his sunglasses. His eyes are blue. Really fucking blue. You think he might be the most attractive man you’ve ever seen, even with the expression of… anger?- that he’s currently wearing. 

“Whoever he is, I'll kill him.” 

That makes you blink. An extra sliver of clarity opens in your brain. “What are you talking about?”

He tugs you a little closer, wrapping an arm fully around your waist and pressing you up against him. You try to ignore the fact that you love it, that you want nothing more than to wrap yourself around him and climb him like a fucking tree. 

“What idiot leaves an omega going into heat?” He’s glaring at the doorway like he’s torn between staying here with you and running after said idiot to pommel him into the ground. 

“‘M not an omega.” The words are out before you’ve even stopped to consider them. It’s true. You’re not an omega. You’re a beta. You’ve always been a beta. You’ve got the little “B” on your ID card to prove it. You were tested at birth, just like everyone else, and even if you really were an omega you would have presented years ago.

He only glances down at you and snorts. “Funny, sweetheart.” His hand is still rubbing those little circles into your back and it’s enough to make that fogginess in your mind grow a little thicker. 

But your fear, your uncertainty outways your instinct. You pound a weak fist against his chest, not to push him away, but to get his attention. He’s still glaring at the doorway like he wants to murder it. 

“‘M serious,” you gasp. “I’m a beta… I don’... know whas’ happenin’… to me.” Each word is a tremendous effort to form. Your tongue seems to have lost its ability to do anything but hang limply. 

That gets his attention. He lifts a hand, gently brushing your hair back from your eyes and then cupping your jaw. “Is this your first heat?” 

You find yourself leaning into his touch despite the fact that you’ve only known him for thirty seconds. Your eyelids flutter. “N-Not a heat… jus’ feel… sick.”

His brows furrow again, deeper this time, and he shakes his head. “How old are you?”

You know why he asks. Most omegas present around eighteen or nineteen. “Older than… nineteen…” You try to laugh, but it only comes out as a whimper.

That answer only serves to make him push closer. You feel his hand trailing down your neck, skimming gently over the skin until he reaches a spot you hadn't even realized was so… sore. You keen at the touch. Fuck, no. There was no way. You had swollen fucking scent glands. 

You try to push away, but he pulls you in, burying his face in your neck. You shudder when he groans. “You smell like a damn bakery exploded,” he chuckles, and the sound is muffled by your skin. When he pulls away he makes it look like the action is physically painful. He cups your face again. “Hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but you’re an omega. If this is your first heat then…” he swallows and your eyes track the bob of his throat. “You’re just a late bloomer, baby.”

You shake your head desperately. It’s just the stupid heatwave. It’s just… hot outside… right? 

You try to think about how this could be possible. It could be that the test you took as a baby was wrong… it happened sometimes. It was rare, but it happened. But if you were an omega, what would have triggered your presentation now? What had changed? 

Your eyes widen. Japan. You’d set foot in fucking Japan. Ever since you’d gotten here, you’d felt power pulsing in your veins. Maybe it hadn’t been just power… 

“N-no–” 

A gentle thumb smooths over your cheek and you meet his eyes again. You shiver when you see a whole lot more black than blue. “You have no alpha?” 

You whimper, leaning into him. Touch me, touch me, touch me, a part of you begs. You shake your head again and a tear slides down your cheek. “No,” you whisper. 

Strong arms slide beneath your knees and you squeak when you’re suddenly suspended in the air. When you glance up he’s grinning triumphantly. “You have one now,” is all he says before he’s carrying you out of the classroom and twisting through the halls. 

Warmth rushes over you at the sensation of being held, and something begs you to give into it, to give into the heat still washing over you, to the throbbing between your legs. You fight it and fight it hard. 

“Where’re we going?” you ask, but your voice is sounding more and more like a whisper. 

His eyes stay focused ahead, even as he presses a comforting kiss to the crown of your head. “Your room, sweetheart.” 

Your brows scrunch. “How d’ you know where–” 

“‘M following your scent, baby.” 

He can do that? You bury your face in his neck, embarrassed, only to be hit by a different scent so delicious your mouth starts watering. You groan. Loudly. There’s a scent pouring from his neck that’s filling your head with memories of spices you can’t name, but suddenly know you love. 

You think you hear him chuckle and then feel a gentle hand on the back of your neck, encouraging you. You snuggle deeper into him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and burying your fingers in his hair. Taste him, taste him, taste him your mind chants. It’s too good an offer to deny. You lick a stripe across his skin. 

Your groans are instant. He’s squeezing you closer, leaning into your touch, and you’re pulling him closer. Your fingers curl into his jacket, tugging and tugging. You lick again and now he’s the one groaning. 

“Damn, that feels good,” He sounds as surprised by that fact as you feel. The swaying of his steps comes to a sudden halt. You whine, missing the rocking of his body. “Think we’re here, princess. This it?” His hand is smoothing over your hair, slowly coaxing you away from the curve of his neck. You blink, not wanting to leave the paradise of his scent, but also feeling some overwhelming urge to please him.

Your eyes settle on a door and you recognize a little chip in the wood. You nod. “Mhm.” 

You gasp when his hand grips your hip, wriggling through your pocket until he pulls out a little brass key. 

“Perfect,” he says, and his voice sounds like he’s all too pleased with himself. He shimmies your key in the knob until the lock clicks and then you’re inside. The door slams shut loud enough to make you jump and squeak. 

“Oops, sorry, baby. Guess I’m a little excited, heh.” His hand squeezes your hip soothingly and you mewl at the wave of heat that pulses through you. Your clit throbs almost painfully and you feel something gush onto your thighs. You whimper. 

He inhales. “Oh, shit,” he breathes, and then you’re moving again. He navigates your room like he knows it. He probably does. From what you can tell, most of the rooms at Jujutsu Tech follow a standard layout. He weaves down a hall to the left and then into your bedroom on the right. 

He lays you on the bed gently, tenderly, like he’s afraid you might break if he drops you so much as an inch. “There we go,” he breathes. You can’t deny that it feels good, that it feels right, to be lying on the softness of your mattress, but it’s not enough. 

You claw at him, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck and pulling him close. You want something from him, need something, but you can’t name what. You just know that the heat boiling beneath your skin can only be sated by him, that the throbbing between your legs can only be calmed by him. “P-Please,” you whimper. Tears well in your eyes. You need him so bad it physically hurts. 

The smile he gives you is soft and genuine and it takes your breath away. He dips his head and you think you see him slide those sunglasses down his nose and toss them to the side. You don’t pay too close attention, though, because he’s kissing your neck again and your body is screaming with sensation. 

“Aw, I know, baby. Don’ worry. ‘M gonna take care of you now. Jus’ relax.” 

His words spark something in you– your last bit of consciousness. A brief moment of clarity shines through the fog of your mind and you remember what the hell is happening, what the hell you’re doing. You squeeze your eyes shut and shake your head desperately. No, no, no, this is not happening to you. There’s no way.

“Hey, now. None a’ that.” Fingers clasp your chin, holding you still. When you peek your eyes open, you see that he has in fact removed his sunglasses and that his eyes are more black pupil than dazzling blue. His jaw is clenched and his breathing is heavy. “Don’t try t’ fight it. Jus’ try to enjoy it…” His head dips and suddenly he’s nipping at your scent gland again. 

You thrash and scream, but not in fear or pain. You’ve never felt something so good in your life. Every graze of his teeth feels like heaven. Your skin zings with electricity, sending pulses of pure need straight between your thighs. 

You grab at him, tangling your fingers in his hair and tugging him closer. Your chest is heaving when you speak. “Please, p-please-” 

“Shhh…” You think you hear your shirt tearing, but you’re too focused on pulling him closer to care. His tongue licks a stripe up your throat and your eyes roll back. 

You’re sure your shirt is off now. You can feel the cool air, but it does nothing to ease the heat raging inside you, pulsing and pumping through your veins.You feel him tugging at your pants, too, and you try to raise your hips. He only shushes you again. “Jus’ relax. Let me do the work, baby.” 

Your pants are gone in seconds, even without your assistance. So is your bra and then your panties. He tries pulling away to undress himself, but you mewl and his eyes blow even blacker before he’s back over you again. He settles for popping the buttons straight off his shirt and shimmying out of his pants. 

The sight of his bare skin makes you whimper and then you’re clawing at him again, dragging your fingers across his shoulders, over his chest, down his abs. It’s a greedy touch and one that he returns. His palms move along your body, kneading and squeezing at any flesh he can grab. It feels so good that you think you might pass out– but it’s still not enough. Something is still missing. You feel… empty. 

His fingers trace across your stomach and it’s too late to realize what’s happening before he’s circling your clit. You jerk and jolt at the touch, but he presses his chest to yours, pinning you. The throbbing only worsens when his fingers settle into a rhythm. 

Tears leak down your cheeks. It’s too overwhelming. You’re burning– burning from the inside out. The pulsing between your thighs is all-consuming with its intensity, with its-

“Need! N-Need–” you’re crying out, but you don’t even know what to ask for– don’t even know what you need. 

“God, Fuck, I know, princess,” he groans. He licks a long stripe up your neck. “But ‘s your first heat. Gotta–” he has to pause to swallow. He’s panting, now, just as lost as you are, and you get the sense that he’s restraining himself. “Gotta get you ready… go slow.” 

You shake your head. Now, now, now is all you can think. You need him now. “No… please…” You bury your head in his neck and find that spot that’s pouring his spicy scent into the air. Your mouth waters and you lick him, letting your teeth graze his skin.

“Fuck!” He shivers atop you and you feel the pure strength restrained within his muscles. “Fuck- okay. Okay. Relax f’ me, princess.” 

You try, you really do, but your body refuses to do anything but try to pull him closer. You feel his fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs, pressing them up, up, up until they’re pressed tightly to your chest and your feet are dangling on his shoulders. The position makes you whine, feeling more exposed than you ever have before. 

“You on birth control, baby?” 

Your brows furrow. It’s becoming harder and harder to focus on what he’s saying rather than simply the sound of his voice. Were you? You try to think, try to remember through the pit of glue that is your brain. No…

You shake your head. “N-No…” 

There’s a slight pause, a beat of contemplation, and then he’s laughing. “Guess I’m bouta be a daddy then, heh.” He chuckles again and the sound rings through you with a wave of pure bliss. His lips brush your neck again, settling on your pulse and making you whine. “Don’t really mind as long as I get you.” Your head rolls back submissively, exposing your throat. Yes, yes, yes, your mind screams. There’s nothing you want more than that, you think.“Okay, here we go, baby.” 

There’s hardly any more warning. One second you feel him shifting between your thighs and the next he’s pressing inside of you, feeding his cock in inch by inch. The stretch is… delicious. It burns, fuels that fire inside you, but it makes the heat feel more… pleasurable. Your back arches and your head rolls back submissively. 

“Oh, fuck, princess.” His voice has gotten higher, more like a whine than anything else. When you gaze up at him you can see the flush in his cheeks, even through the fog in your mind. More, more, more your mind screams. Or maybe you say it aloud, because more is exactly what he gives you. The second you feel him tucked up against your cervix the second he begins to take you. He sets a pace that is somehow both brutal and gentle, with strokes that rattle your skull and also give you exactly what you need. His hands grip your hips, holding you still to take exactly what he wants to give. His head dips until he has his lips wrapped around your nipple, and his tongue is swirling so deliciously that you can’t help but drag your nails down his back. 

Your body rocks with every thrust, teeth rattling and eyes rolling. The heat inside you grows… tighter, like it’s all pooling to your core, waiting for something you still can’t quite name. 

“N-need…” You don’t know what you need, still. Only that you want to beg for it so badly it hurts. 

His tongue slides away from your nipple, tracing a line up between the valley of your breasts, over your collarbone, before he finally settles on your pulse once again. The nick of his teeth makes something click in your mind. This is what you need. Bite me, bite me, bite. Claim me, claim me, claim me. 

“Yes,” you breathe. Your fingers dig into his scalp, pulling him closer, coaxing his teeth to sink in, to stake their claim. “Oh God, yes. Please.” You sound delirious, you think, but then so does he when he answers. 

“Not yet, princess. Not yet.” His tongue darts out to lick across your neck again and you can only sob. Why not yet? Now, now, now… 

Tightness coils in your muscles, the throb at your core reaching a breaking point. You feel something coming, something like an orgasm but yet also not. You know that when whatever is pooling inside you releases, you will shatter, and you’re not sure you’ll ever be put back together. 

Your nails claw across his back hard enough to draw blood and the action forces out some sort of low grumble from his chest that makes you whimper and melt into the mattress. The tip of his nose draws a line up your throat. “Keep doin’ that, baby. Mark me up.” 

You don’t dare deny him. You scratch at his skin, desperately trying to pull him closer. His thrusts grow faster and your thighs begin to tremble and shake on his shoulders, overwhelmed with the intensity of all you’re feeling. You pull at him, grab at him, thread your fingers through his hair. 

Your body jolts with each thrust and you’re sure you’re going to burst any moment. But you can’t. Not yet. You still need something, something he hasn’t given you yet. He groans and the sound is so delicious that you feel it sliding over your skin and settling in your bones. 

“M’ gonna knot you now, princess,” he breathes. “Gonna make you feel so good. Gonna take care ‘ve you.”

You whimper at his words. You hope they’re true. You don’t think you can take much more of the incessant gnawing of need in your gut. 

“Please…” your voice is hardly more than a whisper. His breath is hot as it shakes against your neck. He’s licking and nipping at you ravenously, like he needs you just as badly, like he wants to claim you as badly as you want to be claimed. 

His thrusts quicken even further and your jaw falls open, neck arching. You don’t think you can hold on much longer. Apparently, neither can he. 

You feel it the moment he starts to swell inside you. It’s perfect, you think. It can’t get better than this– but then it does. 

His teeth graze your throat again, this time a little harsher and with a little more intent. “Mine,” he whispers. The second he bites you everything goes blurry. 

You’re experiencing… heaven. There is a rush of that electricity that buzzes under your skin. It bursts forth and you feel it reaching out, forming a link between the two of you that you know is now impenetrable. It pulses and burns and you can feel him, feel his pleasure, his desire, his need for you and only you– his need to make you his. You think your souls must be blending, merging, with how deep the connection runs. You think you know him, know everything you could possibly ever need to. You know he’s the one. You know he’s yours.

It’s perfect, the way it fulfills every desire you’ve ever had, the way he notches inside your cunt like that’s where he was made to be, the way his teeth clamp around your throat and bond you together forever.

You scream for him, you think, but you can’t tell through the complete and total haze of pleasure. Your walls spasm around him, milking him for every last drop, and you feel the heat of his cum coating your cervix. The heat at your center finally releases, bursting and flooding through you in a way that feels like pure bliss has been injected into your veins. Your thighs quake and tremble with the pure intensity of it all and white spots dot your vision. 

His body is tense above you, shivering with the magnitude of what’s just happened. He’s groaning into your neck, your flesh still clamped between his teeth like he never wants to let go. You’re not sure you ever want him to. 

Your breaths shake in and out, lungs heaving as you finally come down. His knot is still settled deep inside you and with the few strings of consciousness that slowly filter back into your mind you know that he’ll remain there for a while.

His teeth release from your neck with a squelch that you think you would be sickening in any other context, but only makes you whimper at the loss of contact. He only hums and finds your hand, twining your fingers together as he laps at the fresh bite on your throat. It feels… amazing. Not in the way it felt before, like he was licking pure lust straight onto your skin, but more like he’s giving you a comfort you have never known in your life. You feel safe in his arms, like nothing could ever hurt you here. 

His lips press a final kiss to your throat before you feel him shifting. He gently rolls you both onto your sides, getting comfortable and pulling you to his chest while you both wait for the next wave of lust to hit you. It will, you know. Sooner rather than later, too. Your mind has cleared enough to realize what’s happening, what’s to come. You won’t be leaving this room, this bed, for quite some time. 

A gentle hand brushes a sweaty lock of hair from your eyes before it settles on the nape of your neck, massaging the sore muscles there. You sigh and raise your gaze to find him already looking at you, an easy smile on his lips. He has dimples, you realize, and he’s… breathtaking. And now… he’s all yours.

There’s a beat of silence between you, a moment of reconciliation with what’s just happened between you, of what it means. You blink up at him, your lips parting to say something, anything, but instead your brows furrow in thought.

His smile drops instantly. He leans into you, thumb caressing your cheek. “What is it, sweetheart?” 

Your mouth runs dry. You peek up at him from beneath your lashes. “What’s your name?”

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[rafeysbafey]

Happy Valentine’s Day!<3

pogue!readerxrafe

you sat on your bed flipping through magazines as you hummed a random tune, eyes skimming through the pages as you waited patiently for your boyfriend to get back.

you guys were in a heated make out session when all of a sudden his phone pinged, causing him to leave abruptly claiming he’d be right back.

you felt a knot in your stomach form, your insecurities getting the best of you as you nervously thought of all the ways rafe could be cheating on you.

you were a pogue living on the cut, the unlikely dynamic between you and the kook king shocking pretty much everyone.

but through all your worries, rafe was always there to assure you he only wanted one thing and one thing only, and that was you.

all of a sudden you heard the front door open and close, footsteps coming up the stairs as you quickly tossed your magazine to the side.

the door opened to reveal your smiling boyfriend, hands behind his back as he made his way into your room.

“that was quick,” you commented, moving your legs to sit criss cross as you approached you, stopping at the edge of the bed.

“close your eyes,” he said, catching you off guard but nonetheless you still did as told.

you felt him take your hand before wrapping a cold material around it, not taking you long to figure out it was a bracelet.

when he told you to open your eyes, you were surprised to see your favorite flowers in his hand.

“rafe, what’s going on?” you asked, confusion in your voice but the smile on your face was telling a different story.

you suddenly remembered what he put on your wrist and looked down to see a dainty bracelet with the letter ‘r’ looped in.

“will you be my valentine?”

you looked up to see a nervous smile on his face, which caught you off guard considering how rafe was never nervous.

unbeknownst to you, this was the first time rafe had done this.

you were the first serious relationship he’s had, everyone else being hookups and random flings that he couldn’t care less for.

“of course, rafey,” you smiled, trying to fight back the tears since this was the first time you’ve been asked to be someone’s valentine.

“oh thank god,” he huffed out in relief, causing you to giggle as he placed the flowers down gently on your night stand.

he then took you by the legs and picked you up to straddle his waist while standing, his lips kissing yours ever so softly as you melted into his touch.

“i love the bracelet,” you smiled against him, leaning back to run your hands through his messy hair.

“i would hope so, i got the text earlier that it was ready and couldn’t wait to pick it up.”

so that explains it, you thought, relief washing over you as you brought him into another kiss.

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Intoxicated.

Pairing: Yandere!Fae King x Reader (OC).

Word Count: 1.0k.

TW: Non/Con -> Dub/Con, AFAB!Reader, Aphrodisiacs/Sex Pollen, Unbalanced Power Dynamics, Unhealthy Relationships, Orgasm Denial, and Obsessive Behavior.

[Commissioned piece. Donate to Palestinians in Gaza here.]

His chambers reeked of honey and lavender.

A stark improvement when compared to the raw stench of sweating bodies and animal fervor that’d hung over the celebrations still raging on in his banquet hall, but strong thick enough to turn your stomach, still choking enough to leave your head spinning, your vision distorted and dark around the edges. A thick, lilac smoke clouded the air, courtesy of the herbs smoldering in jars of stained glass on a nearby windowsill – only adding to your current haziness. It went without saying that none of it, of course, was aided by the clever, slender fingers slowly drawing lazy circles into your clit, the stimulation too much to block out entirely but not nearly enough to bring you any real satisfaction. It was hard to be frustrated, though, when you considered who that stimulation was coming from.

Aisling had positioned himself behind you, propped against the ornate headboard of his almost comically oversized bed. Two long, hoofed legs stretched out on either side of you – flecks of golden pollen still dusted over his dark fur. His chest was bear and cool where it pressed into your back, and his unoccupied hand alternated between wrapping snuggly around your midriff and prying your thighs apart when they attempted in-vain to shut. His touch, like most other things about him, left much to be desired. You’d lost track of how long you’d spent here, how much time had passed since he carried you out of those wretched rituals his kind called revelries, but couldn’t have been any longer than a few minutes, even if it felt like a small eternity lapsed by every time you let your eyes droop shut. He prided himself on his adeptness in all things frivolous and pleasurable, and you couldn’t imagine him taking this long to bring you to climax.

“I’ve grown quite fond of your meekness, you know.” His voice was a deep rumble, less a string of words and more a prolonged, inflected purr. Cold lips ghosted over the curve of your ear, and his fingers found a new pattern; one with enough force behind to it make your head lull forward, a slight whimper slipping past your grit teeth as the loose knot in your core began to tighten. “At first, it was rather irking to realize I would never be able to make love to you under the light of the full moon to the accompaniment of my finest bards, but I think I’ve come to like how—” A quirk of his wrist, a strange crescent-like motion. You withered against him, your hips bucking stiltedly into his hand. “—reserved your kin tend to be. It feels more intimate, locking ourselves away like this. Like we share a common secret.”

That fucking smell. The sickening sweetness of it seemed to claw and tear at your lungs, to lodge itself in the hollows of your skull and send a warm, steady pulsing down the length of your spine with every slight movement of Aisling’s fingers. You let your eyes fall shut, your hands kneading at the silk of his sheets as the knot sitting in your core coiled ever-tighter, as you came so, so close to that—

As Aisling pulled away, his touch skirting over the inside of your thigh before forcing two fingers into the dripping entrance of your cunt. You couldn’t bite back the fractured whine that bubbled past your lips, arching your back as he spread and curled his digits inside of you. “Still,” he went on, sighing in mock-disappointment. “I feel like our relationship has been far from reciprocal, as of late. I do adore taking care of you, and I don’t mean to sound unthankful, but—” Another pause, another sigh. “I am beloved to all folks of the land and air, worshiped by the valleys and mountains alike, and dearest to all beings with the wisdom necessary to appreciate true beauty. Why is it that the one I cherish most so evidently detests my very existence?”

“Be—” A broken moan cut you off, draw out by a particular scissoring motion of his fingers. It was a fight to find your voice again. “Because you’re a fucking prick.”

“Your honeyed praises will have to wait, for now.” The heel of his palm ground into your clit, but the friction was too soft, too half-hearted to do anything. His lilac smoke seemed to claw its way down your throat and dislodge a pathetic string of whimpers and mewls, filling the new vacancy with a sort of… a sort of liquid heat, strong enough to leave you panting and hot enough to have you squirming against him, eager to get that much closer to his frigid body. Your desperation earned a melodic laugh from Aisling, a tender nuzzling of his cheek against yours. “Oh? Do you have something you’d like to ask for, little fawn?”

He forced a third finger into your terribly empty cunt, and something inside of you seemed to break open. “Please, Aisling, I—” You paused, gasped as his fingers curved against the clenching walls of your pussy. “I need to cum. I can’t take another—”

Whatever you might’ve said dissolved into a broken, pained moan as he drew back entirely, his slick-stained hand moving to your chin and tilting your head back, his lips finding your own before your shock could fade into hurt. Pointed, cat-like fangs burrowed into your bottom lip as his rough tongue laved over your own, the gesture less of a kiss and more of an attempt to permanently attach a part of him to a part of you. His taste was one of fresh fruit and sugared cream, and by the time he pulled away, you were panting, heaving, clambering to stay as close as him as you possibly could, to get as much from him as you possible could. Aisling only laughed as you rushed to straddle him, taking your face in both hands and pulling you into another long, lingering kiss – his mouth just as sweet as his poisons.

“Such a beautiful song,” he muttered, pulling back far enough to speak, but not leaving quite enough distance to disguise the crooked smile spread across his lips.

“Perhaps, by the time we’re finished, you’ll love me enough to deserve to.”

[holybibly]

𝔚𝔢'𝔩𝔩 𝔪𝔞𝔨𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔭𝔲𝔯𝔯|𝔐𝔄𝔗ℨ 𝔵 ℜ𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯(𝔗𝔢𝔞𝔰𝔢𝔯)

♡ 𝔓𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤: Wolf hybrids MATZ x bunny reader ♡ 𝔖𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: They say sex with a wolf is like a flirt with death, but what about heat? Or where your two devilishly luxurious alphas help you warm up before your heat fully kicks in. ♡ 𝔊𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢 / 𝔄𝔲 / 𝔗𝔯𝔬𝔭𝔢: Shameless Smut, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Hybrids!Au, Established Relationship, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Pretty Flushed!AU ♡ ℜ𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤: 18+ / 21+ / MDNI ♡ 𝔚𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: ? ♡ 𝔚𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: Mommy/Alpha! Seonghwa, Daddy/Alpha! Hongjoong, Omega/Bunny! Reader, unprotected sex, threesome, daddy kink, mommy kink, dacryphilia, pussy drunk, lots of sperm, lot of mucus, stuffed with sperm, wet and dirty, scent kink, collars, fingering, degrading, оral knotting, stomach bulge, vaginal knotting, pet names, size kink, spanking, hair pulling, lots of squirting, creampie, humiliation, fur kink, bites kink, objectification, breeding kink, pussy slapping, dirty talk, face fucking, overstimulation, oral, double penetration, manhandling, choking, multiple orgasms, rough sex, rough oral, power play, praise kink, anal play, explicit sexual content, explicit language, and more. 𝔄/𝔑: Before reading, I suggest you check out previous works in this universe.

"Please, please, please... Alpha!" You moan shrilly, your long velour ears flapping and your puffy cotton tail flicking up. You wriggle and shiver as if you have a fever, and the tingling, dragging, golden, molasses-like lust that is filling your veins right now has you whimpering and begging to be touched and fucked properly.

"Are you already begging us, my lovely sugar bunny? Do you have the right to do that, eh? Seonghwa slowly licks the top row of his sharp fangs and tilts his godlike face so close to you that you can feel his hot, wet breath on your lips. His perfectly sculpted, luscious lips make contact with yours with every word he utters, though you understand little of what he says. Your head is completely blank; all you can feel is the hot pleasure spilling under your skin and the thick, sickeningly sweet scent of pheromones mixing with the natural scents of Seonghwa and Hongjoong. "You're just our lovely, pretty sex toy, aren't you, fluffy?" He purrs velvety against your lips; his deep, utterly sinful voice, filled with mocking condescension, flows over your skin like melted honey. You sob in frustration, but reach for him anyway, desperately tangling your fingers in the impossibly soft fur of his luxurious coat. Then you stick out your tiny tongue and lick those gorgeous, tantalising lips, making him laugh darkly. "You insatiable little bunny, are you just begging to be eaten by big bad wolves or... are you just desperate to be fucked properly, huh?" He doesn't wait for you to answer, licks your mouth once, leaving a glistening trail of saliva on your lips, and slides it down your tender, vulnerable throat and lower, over your heavy, milky tits and soft belly. His hot breath streams over your flushed skin, and you arch up on the bed, trying to get more of his touch. 

"Alpha...more, please, I need more...' Your pathetic whimper excites Seonghwa even more, and a new wave of heavier, sweeter pheromones fills the bedroom, and you begin to dissolve even more into the thick, seductive haze, sinking deeper and deeper into the natural pleasure space that is inherent in all bunnies. All of your rational thought has ceased to exist, and all you can think about is how badly you want to get on top of the Alpha's thick knot and ride him for hours on end until your pussy is saturated and filled to the brim with cum. "Please touch me more! Touch me more! I need it so badly, Mommy...' 

Your little heel kicking the air as one of Seonghwa's clawed hands reaches up and roughly cups one of your swollen, milk-filled tits, beginning to knead it in his palm as his long, rough tongue lazily glides over your tender belly skin. His sharp nails gently scratch your aching, swollen nipple before wrapping two fingers around it and twisting it. 

You squeal loudly as a sharp, raw sensation of pleasure rushes through you, and Seonghwa takes advantage of it, sliding his long, slender fingers so deep into your pussy that the soft pads of his fingers touch a small bundle of super-sensitive nerves, shutting you off completely. 

"Oh God, Alpha!" Your loud scream fills the room, along with the sugary scent of ripe peaches and cream, and you feel the viscous sweet slime spurting from your pussy, coating Seonghwa's fingers in a glistening glaze. 

All of a sudden you feel a hot, soft mouth encircling your sensitive clit, sharp fangs scratching at it for a moment before a slippery, rough tongue begins to massage it aggressively. Greedy lips clinging even tighter to your swollen bud, sucking it deeper into the wolf's mouth to suckle your pussy with a deep animal hunger. You tremble all over. Crystal clear tears begin to gather at the corners of your eyes from the intensity of the sensations, and you squeal loudly, unable to contain yourself. A new wave of lust washes over your body, leaving you feverish and helpless, hungry for more and more. 

I-I... so much... so much...'

You feel rather than hear Seonghwa's velvety purr as he painfully slowly withdraws his fingers from you, allowing the demonically handsome Alpha to slip his tongue into your slime oozing hole. 

Seonghwa deep moans and leaves kisses on your wet, flushed skin as he watches Hongjoong lapping at your beautiful cunt, his fingers still pulling and twisting at your nipple, stimulating the production of milk, and you sob between intermittent sighs, completely softened by the intense pleasure. He returns his fingers to your cunt, running them over your silky petal-like folds, only to open them to the insatiable mouth of the other Alpha, causing more and more of your sweet nectar to ooze out of you, coating his fingers and dripping directly onto Hongjoong's tongue.

"That's it, fluffy. Make Daddy happy; come on his face; let him taste you." Seonghwa lifts his gaze to your face wet with tears and grins with a lecherous grin. "Your heat is getting close, bunny; I can smell it in your scent, and Hongjoong can feel it as well, right, Joong?" The dark-haired Alpha growls in confirmation, burying his face even deeper between your legs, and you squeal, kicking the air around with your little heel in vain. 

"I can't wait for it to hit you with full force. We'll make you purr, princess."

[sugoi-and-spice]

Vox Relationship Headcanons

Time to strike the iron while the hyperfixation is HOT!

(I mean come ON . Look at this fucking evil dork. I love him).

SFW

It goes without saying that Vox is HUGE on appearances. He does not make his relationships public lightly. His brand as one of the V’s after all is perfection, and he’s not going to go out arm and arm with a person unless they know that.

That being said, especially given his on again off again relationship with Valentino, I could absolutely see him as being the type to fall for a hot mess. 

A very different person with his partner in front of and behind the scenes. When the cameras are off, he’s warm, affectionate, and vulnerable. He’ll share his every insecurity with you, strip himself bare to the bone for you to love and comfort truly and honestly. And he’s an excellent listener too, always available to hold and talk through any problem you have. Your problems are his problems — you’ll work through them together.

When in the public eye however, he can be a downright prick — putting everything, and I do mean everything between you two on the backburner to keep up appearances. He will not hesitate to make jokes at your expense if it means his ratings will go up.

Fights with him are explosive. No, he’s not the type to lay a hand on you, but we’d be lying if we didn’t admit that he can scream at you within an inch of your life.

Words of Affirmation and Gift Giving are his primary love languages. Specifically, he needs words of affirmation and he loves to give gifts. And holy shit does he give the most uncomfortably lavish gifts. Diamonds, rolexes, new cars — no price is too high for his darling.

Surprisingly, he prefers home dates. Watching a movie on the couch or having a little game night with a bottle of wine. He does genuinely enjoy the authentic time you spend together and he wishes he could have more of it, so the more he can get of that private, intimate time together, the better.

And while he is a man of the future, so theoretically should like video games, I do think he has a certain soft spot for a good old-fashioned board game.

When it comes to video games though, he does tend to gravitate to phone games. 

Vox is from the 1950’s so I do think he prefers a more nuclear family and relationship dynamic. He wants to bring home the bacon and have his partner ready to fry it up in a pan with a dirty martini ready and waiting for him. That being said, he is a man that always looks to the future as well, so he’s by no means above doing chores of his own. At the end of the day, this desire for more traditional relationship roles really comes from a place of needing to be doted on rather than any views he actually has about gender.

The man’s a sucker for a good massage from his partner. This wired up workaholic has knots that you can’t even imagine, so please, offer him a nice bankrupt at the end of the day. He’ll be sure to return the favor tenfold.

A very lovey-dovey drunk. Oh my GOD, he’s so touchy-feely and weepy and just all the y’s. You want a guaranteed cuddle-wuddle session? Load him up with a couple glasses of scotch — you’ll have those chords coiling around you.

And yes, his alcohol of choice is scotch. Scotch, dirty martinis, or a nice oaky chardonnay.

This man wants to get married. Yes, even if he is in hell, the idea of not having to worry about who his next lay or source of connection will come from, having someone that will stand by his side through thick and thin, a partner? Now that’d be the (after)life.

NSFW

BIG fucking praise kink. This man NEEDS you to stroke more than just his bod and his cock, he needs you to stroke his ego too.

“God you’re so good”, “FUCK, you’re so big”, “Nobody can make me feel this way but you, Vox”.

Don’t worry, it’s not just for his own ego. He loves to give praise as much as he receives it. This man is a TALKER in the sack.

“Fuck, fuck yeah. Just like that, baby. You’re so fucking good, just like thaaaaat.”

He’s also got a little bit of a degradation kink — but in general, it still feeds into stroking his own ego. Loves to tease and taunt his partner once in a while about what a horny little slut they are, how he loves to see them so desperate and pathetic. Asking his partner, “you’d have anyone right now, wouldn’t you?” just for them to assure him that no, nobody but him will do.

On that note, the man can dish out degrading dirty talk, but he can NOT fucking take it.

Very much a switch. Sure, he loves to fuck, but he’ll just as happily let his partner bend him over his own desk and fuck the shit out of him. A good orgasm is a good orgasm, his ego may be big, but not big enough to get in the way of that.

Big fan of bondage, both on his partner and himself. There are few sights better to him than seeing his partner bound and shibari’d in his own cord and wires, holy shit. But he’ll also never say no when his partner breaks out their own pair of fuzzy handcuffs for him.

He absolutely short-circuits when he cums, so watch out. Sometimes, if he cums hard enough, he may just zap you a bit so watch out.

Favorite position is seated cowgirl. He loves the way he can hold his partner close while ramming as deep into them as possible. Not to mention the fact that either one of them can take over control at any moment. He can thrust up, they can grind down — it’s just the best of all worlds. Not to mention you can do it from his desk chair.

On that note, he’s a big BIG fan of cockwarming. 

LOTS of precum. This HD motherfucker is just a weepy mess.

I can’t explain why, but Vox just seems like an ass man to me.

He’s not necessarily a cuddler after, but he is something of a “savor the moment” kind of guy. He likes to lay in bed (or chair lol) with his partner for a good while afterwards, smoking a cigarette, reveling in some post-nut clarity conversation, just really taking in the moment. His life is so busy at all other times honestly, always looing and speeding to the future. Sex and post-sex are the times where he really does just like to stop and live in the moment.

[bloodrvvvsh]

I Have No Shame. | Spencer Reid x GN!Reader

Synopsis: Spencer joins the Mile High Club with your help.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader

Warnings: Handjobs, semi-public sex, they get caught (sort of?), soft sub!Spencer, soft dom!Reader, Spencer being a whimpering whining mess, facials, cum eating, established relationship, pet names (baby, sweetheart, angel, honey, good boy), literally so much praise, a little bit of crying from Spencer, like one (1) use of Y/N, slight dumbification, begging

Word count: 1.5K

Notes: My first Spencer fic wow!!!! It’s been so long since I’ve written an actual fic, I missed it so much. Anyways I hope you all enjoy! For this I imagined like s1-s4 Spence but could technically be interpreted as any season

Cross-posted on A03.

Spencer Reid was not a bold man.

In fact, he would go as far to say he was the total opposite. At least, in his personal life he certainly was. He never made the first move, always waiting for that perfect time that never came.

He didn’t like taking risks. Even calculated ones were too much for him sometimes. So he stayed in his little bubble of comfort and safety. He liked it there. Sure, it might make him the subject of a bit of teasing and he missed out on a few things, but at the end of the day he still liked it there.

Until he met you.

You were everything he wasn’t. Outgoing, daring, bold. In some ways, you could even be described as a bit of an adrenaline junkie. It’s actually partly what led you to joining the FBI. You liked the thrill, the high stakes, the way it got your blood pumping when you had to chase down a criminal on the loose. 

You lived for taking risks. The idea of never truly knowing what might happen made your spine tingle, every one of your hairs stand on. There wasn’t a better feeling than feeling a little sick to your stomach with nerves and excitement for you.

It's an interesting dynamic you and Spencer had - he was all for playing it safe and keeping to himself, while you could be a wildcard. Spencer learned that very quickly after you two started dating. And while it wasn’t that you were trying to change him (you would never!), you were simply opening him up to things he wouldn’t have thought twice about.

Everyone else on the jet was fast asleep. Slumped over and curled up in positions that would certainly give them a knot in their neck later. Spencer had his head laid over your lap, curls sprawled across your thighs while you mindlessly twirled the strands around your fingers. 

You were still wide awake. The rush of the case just closed still ran hot through your veins. You’d most definitely crash later once in the sanctity of your apartment, but for now you were full of energy. You tried to distract yourself by staring out the jet window, watching the world go by, but it wasn’t working.

You glanced down at the pretty boy sprawled across you like a sleeping angel and a little thought popped into your head. You shifted in your seat, sitting up straighter, before you gently threaded your fingers into Spencer’s hair. Your nails scraped across his scalp and you almost swore you could have heard a little purr rumble in his chest.

You leaned over him, breathing slowly in vain attempt to settle your already racing heart. “Spence,” you crooned softly. “Spencer, wake up, baby.” Once Spencer actually fell asleep, he was a fairly light sleeper. It didn’t take much before he was stirring awake with a quiet groan.

“What is it?” he asked, voice thick with sleep. His hands raised to rub at his eyes and you could only smile. “Did we land?”

“No,” you said a little too quickly, “No, I just..” You trailed off a little as your teeth sunk down on your bottom lip. “I had an idea.” You stood to your feet and offered your hand out to him. He quirked an eyebrow, glancing between your face and outstretched hand, before slowly placing his in your grasp.

There was a little bit of a bounce in your steps as you led him in the direction of the bathroom and in that moment, Spencer regretted agreeing to whatever you were about to do. He squeezed your hand and you tossed  him a smile that reeked of mischief over your shoulder.

It was a tight squeeze once inside. Because, like most airplane bathrooms, it was meant to only fit one person at a time. That didn’t stop a lot of people, though. And you were one of them.

You crashed your lips against his the minute the door locked behind the two of you. It was hot, full of passion and lust as your hands roamed over his body. He whimpered softly against your lips before relaxing into the kiss. His hands were warm and broad against your body, sending shivers down your spine.

You didn’t waste time when you wanted something, and you wanted him right here and now. Your hands drifted until they hit their target - his belt. You broke for air, panting heavy and hard, as you tried to make quick work of shedding the layers between you and his dick.

“Y/N-” he gasped. “Wait, wait-” He took hold of your wrists, halting your movements. His eyebrows pinched together and his bottom lip jutted out ever so slightly. “What if we get caught?”

You grinned at him. “Well, I guess you’ll just have to be quiet so we won’t.” You knew just how much of a struggle it was for Spencer to keep himself under control when he was feeling good. The noise complaints from your neighbors were proof enough. 

Your hand dipped into his pants and underwear and you tried to suppress the smirk that threatened to spread over your face when you wrapped your fingers for his half-hard cock. He gasped, but quickly slapped a hand over his mouth when you shot him a look.

His eyes rolled back as you began to stroke along his length. Your thumb brushed over the tip, smearing the pre-cum gathering and Spencer’s knees buckled. Your pace was slow, almost languid, teasing.

“Please,” Spencer whined. You grinned once more.

“Please what?” you murmured. You leaned even closer to him, somehow, hovering over his lips. You were both breathing heavily and practically sharing breaths. You took a moment to look over his adorably flushed face. “You’re so pretty, Spence..”

“Please.” He wasn’t even sure what he was begging for, pleasure clouding his usually bright mind. “Please, please, pl-ease.” His voice cracked when you sped up, his head lulling back. “F-feels so good, oh god.”

You cooed at the state of him. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Faux pity coated your words, making Spencer whine again. “Come on, use your words, honey. I can’t read minds.” You snickered.

His hand jumped to grab your wrist, not to stop you, no. He was too far gone to stop you now. He simply held it there, keeping a tight grip on you as you jerked his cock. 

He looked like a total mess. An absolutely stunning mess, but a mess nonetheless. Curls sticking to his forehead and cheeks, plush lips parted in soft moans, eyes squeezed tight, face flushed shades of red. His hips arched into your touch, cock twitching in your hold.

“Are you gonna cum?” you asked and he nodded frantically. His lips twitched into a soft frown as tears began to well in his big brown eyes. God, he always the prettiest he was all dumb and fucked out. “Good boy,” you crooned at him.

You dropped down to your knees. You finally freed his dick from the confines of his underwear and he hissed at the feeling of the cold air. You didn’t waste a moment to resume your ministrations.

“Look at me, Spencer,” you commanded and he immediately followed the order. He nearly lost it at the sight of you on your knees before him. “Good boy, that’s it..” You picked up the pace even further, hand almost a blur stroking him.

“I’m- I’m gonna-” he stumbled over his words, unable to even form proper words as the pleasure grew. You shook your head.

“Do it, Spence,” you commanded again. “You can do it. Cum all over my face, pretty boy.” And that’s all it took for Spencer to tumble right over the edge. He tightened his grip on your wrist, back arching as he spilled over your face in thick spurts.

You worked him through his orgasm, stroking slow and gently, until he began to whine from overstimulation. You slowly rose to your feet and Spencer was already offering you paper towels to clean yourself. You ran a finger through one of the streaks of cum on your face and brought it to your lips, eyes fluttering shut and soft groans escaping you as you tasted him.

When you opened your eyes again, he was beet-red and looking oh-so shy and cute. You giggled. You gladly took the paper towels and began to wipe away the remnants of his cum.

You connected your lips in a chaste kiss when you were finished, making him blush even more. “You did such a good job, angel,” you praised before pressing another kiss to his lips. He tucked himself back into his jeans and buckled them back up. You entangled your fingers together, leading him out of the bathroom.

You made your way back to your seats, a sense of satisfaction settled in your chest. “Reid?” The call of your boyfriend’s name had you both glancing back to see Hotch awake in one of the jet chairs. “Don’t do that again”

Heat washed over both of your cheeks and you had to slap a hand over your mouth to hide the growing smile on your lips. “Yes, sir,” Spencer said with a nod of his head.

At least you had fun.

[vivwritescrappythings]

set me on fire, i'll keep you warm

alpha!joel miller x omega!f!reader

You get stuck in a cabin during a snowstorm for longer than you anticipated.

an: this is my first a/b/o fic so it is probably weird and awkward, but i'm trying to push myself out of my comfort zone and write different styles of relationships!

tw: a/b/o/ dynamics, afab reader, fem reader, alpha joel, omega reader, marijuana use, joel is mean, angst, comfort, SMUT, this is an a/b/o fic so everything associated with that is included (knotting, mating cycles, heat, claiming bites, scenting), p in v sex, vaginal fingering, creampies, unprotected sex, masturbation, dubcon

word count: 12.5k

masterlist

MDNI!

--

The night outside the cabin was quiet, the snow drifting down in the dim light of the backlit clouds. It was too late to be sitting outside like this, letting the cool air wash over you in an attempt to rid yourself of your bad dreams. Dark circles were stamped under your eyes as you self medicated, the deep skunky scent of weed wafting from your lips and into the evening. 

Nightmares were a fairly common side effect of the apocalypse, so you didn’t bother with waking up Joel as you snuck past the couch he slept on. You’d be waking Joel up every night if you did that.

“What are you doing?” The groggy voice behind you made you jump. Apparently tonight you had.

Joel’s voice startled you, nearly making you drop the joint as you turned to look at him over your shoulder. Your face already felt warm from your embarrassment at getting caught, the incriminating joint still between your fingers. The smoke curled around the two of you, drifting into the open door of the cabin. 

“Couldn’t sleep,” you mumbled, looking up at the alpha as he stood in the doorway. You had the collar of his thick, canvas hunting jacket turned up high to cover your scent glands, his smell strong enough to cover yours. It wouldn’t be smart to broadcast to anyone nearby that you were an unbonded omega. 

Joel’s eyes darkened at the sight of you, illuminated by the crisp night. You knew the jacket swamped over you, the sleeves pushed up to expose your hands and the excess tucked beneath you as you sat. He leaned against the door frame, arms crossed, studying your exhausted expression with a touch of concern.

“Mhm, I can see that,” he drawled, his eyes flicking down to the joint in your hand. “You smokin' again?”

Your gaze subconsciously darted down to where his biceps bulged under his flannel. You swallowed thickly, looking back up at his shadowed eyes. “Just so I can fall asleep,” you mumbled, feeling like a teenager who’d just been caught by their dad. You took another greedy puff off the joint before he could say anything else, putting it out against the porch railing before tucking it into a rusty Altoids tin from which it came and into your pocket. 

You exhaled a thick cloud of smoke as you stood, crossing the porch in just your socks and ducking past Joel inside the house. “Made sure your jacket covered my scent and everything, didn’t want any passers by to smell me,” you murmured as you squeezed by him. You smelled like weed and like Joel, the sweet scent that lingered on your skin only detectable if you got close.

The sound of Joel inhaling as you walked past him was audible, as if he was testing your method and making sure he couldn’t pick up your scent. You glanced up at him to see his nostrils flare before he schooled his face into a neutral expression.

He followed you inside, closing and locking the door behind you. "You know that stuff ain't good for you," he said gruffly, his eyes following your every movement.

You were shrugging his jacket off, hanging it back up on the hook next to yours. Your sweater was threadbare, on its last leg before you’d have to look for a new one in an abandoned house or store. “I know, Joel,” you murmured softly, brushing a hand over your face. You crossed your arms over your chest, tucking your freezing hands into your armpits.

Your eyes were bloodshot and glassy, the buzz of being stoned making your movements more languid. “Only do it sometimes, just when I can’t sleep,” you said, trying to assure the alpha across from you.

Joel's expression softened at your words, but still, a hint of concern etched his features. The set of his jaw told you he knew what these sleepless nights did to you; the bags under your eyes and the fatigue in your movements didn't escape his notice. 

"Sometimes is too much," he rumbled, closing the distance between you. He reached out, his calloused fingers gently brushing an errant snowflake off your face, his touch tender despite the roughness of his hands. You closed your eyes at the contact, his skin rough against yours before he pulled away. 

"If you can't sleep, you should come to me. You know that, right?"

“Joel, s’okay, it doesn’t happen very often,” you murmured, stubborn as always. 

You knew Joel could help you sleep in an instant, all it would take is you crawling on the couch with him and pressing your nose against his scent gland. It was one of the easiest parts of being an omega with an alpha around. But, you were stubborn to a fault.

The corners of his mouth tightened, and he let out a low growl. "I don't care if it's once in a blue moon or every goddamn night," he snapped. "You need to start relying on me more. I don’t know why you gotta deny your nature and act like you’re so goddamn tough. Stop being so damn independent all the damn time."

You huffed, not letting Joel sway you. His frustration was obvious, you could smell it mixing with the musk of his scent. “You wouldn’t say that to me if I was an alpha or a beta,” you bite back, brow furrowing. It was rare that Joel got mad at you like this–especially over something as stupid as being hard-headed. You’d been that way the whole time he knew you: an omega fighting her designation.

The day you presented as an omega you cried yourself sick. It was like your life had ended, every opportunity seemingly disappearing in an already difficult world after the outbreak. You were hellbent on proving yourself to be worth more.

Joel's jaw tightened as his eyes flashed darkly at your words. He stepped closer, closing the distance between you until he was towering over you. "You don't get it, do you?" he asked softly, the sneer apparent in his voice. "It's different for you. You're an omega."

Your throat tightened, frustration cutting through the relaxed haze of your high. “If you don’t trust me to take care of myself, Joel, why did you take me on as your patrol partner?” you hissed, staring up into his gaze defiantly. You were starting to get emotional, tears stinging at the backs of your eyes as you tried to suppress them. Joel stood over a head taller than you, glaring down his aquiline nose at you as you argued.

His scent was strong in the small hallway, his chest puffing up as he cornered you near the wall. His arm shot out, palm pressing to the dilapidated wood paneling near your head.

"I brought you because I trust you to shoot straight," he retorted, his voice rough. "Not because I think you can handle yourself on your own!"

His words made you flinch, the hurt clear on your face. Your mind was reeling, struggling to process what he said as you balked at him. It dawned on you how stupid it was to think an alpha would trust you. To them, you’d never be more than just an omega even if you pushed yourself to the brink. 

You didn’t give him an answer, slipping under his arm and heading to the small bedroom you occupied at the back of the house. Everything in you was screaming to hide, to make yourself small. Distress scent was already pouring off of you in waves, leaving the air bitter as you tried to hold the tears threatening to spill until you got behind the bedroom door.

“Goodnight, Joel,” you hissed, slamming the door shut behind you and locking it.

—

You didn’t know what time it was when you woke up, just that there was light streaming in through the aged blinds covering the window. The fire in your room must have gone out when you slept, the air was frigid as you sat up in bed. Peeking out the frosted glass revealed there was more snow on the ground than when you fell asleep—meaning another day of holing up in the cabin until it passed.

You had half the mind to hide in your room all day, not wanting to face Joel after last night. You cried yourself to sleep, betrayal weighing heavy on your heart. You still felt the sting of it, part of you wondering if he even respected you as a teammate or just thought you were a pathetic, bumbling omega he got stuck with. 

If it wasn’t for your stomach growling, you probably would have stayed in hiding.

The door to the room creaked when you opened it, deciding to venture out to get water and something to settle your upset stomach. The light was dim out in the rest of the cabin, the dying embers of the fire casting an orange glow across everything. Joel was a lump on the couch, but you couldn’t tell if he was awake.

Joel hardly slept, guilt and worry gnawing at his gut. He had tossed and turned on the couch all night, listening to the sound of your sobs through the door until you finally fell asleep. If he could go back and take it all back, he would in a heartbeat.

It wasn't the creaking of the floorboards that woke Joel, but the faint scent of a distressed omega. He stirred, his eyes fluttering open to see you quietly entering the kitchen. He watched you in silence, guilt-stricken features as he studied your careful movements. As he slowly rose from the couch, moving towards the kitchen in a silent prowl, his eyes never left you.

“You're not gonna eat just jerky all day, are you?" he asked gruffly, leaning against the kitchen door frame. You were gnawing on a piece of it, staring out the bay window over the sink in the long-abandoned kitchen.

In your haze, Joel managed to surprise you. You yelped at the sound of his deep voice, spinning around and falling back against the kitchen counter. “Jesus Christ, Joel,” you said, finding your footing again. Your heart was pounding in your chest as you turned to look out the front window at the snowy landscape surrounding the cabin. “Just about gave me a heart attack.”

A hint of a smirk tugged at the corner of Joel's lips as he watched you jump, a low, raspy chuckle rumbling in his chest. "Sorry 'bout that," he drawled, running a hand through his disheveled hair. His eyes followed your gaze out to the window, the snow falling silently outside.

You didn’t know what to say to him, your chapped lips pursed as the two of you stared at one another. He looked worse for wear, his dark hair was sticking up in every direction, his under eyes so dark they almost looked bruised.

He cleared his throat, the silence between you two deafening. "Can we talk?" he asked. He cringed at his own question, knowing that of course he wanted to talk, he knew he had to talk. He just didn't know how to start. He reached out towards you, but stopped himself halfway, his hand dropping limply to his side 

You sniffled, running a hand over your face as you took a deep breath. “What if I said no?” you whispered, crossing your arms over your chest. The smell of your distress was all too clear, the acrid scent of it covering your normal honeyed-earth smell. 

"Please."

The word was out of his mouth before he could stop it. The pleading tone in his voice surprised him, and he knew it surprised you too. He was an alpha, a strong and powerful one at that, he didn't beg.

But as he looked at you, at your exhausted frame and red-rimmed eyes, he didn't care. He'd beg for your forgiveness a thousand times if he had to. Crawl to you on his knees. It pained him to see you like this. Especially when it was his fault.

The sound of Joel’s deep, twangy, Texas-accented voice begging made one of your eyebrows arch. He never begged, he never had to before. Not alphas like him. You sighed, hazel eyes darting to look out the window over the kitchen sink at the snow. “I’m listening,” you mumbled.

Joel let out a breath through his nose, his heart rate returning to normal. At least you were giving him the chance to explain.

The only sound in the room while Joel put his words together was the floor creaking beneath you as you turned to face him again, watching his coffee-colored eyes nervously flit up to yours. It was times like this that made it hard to believe Joel was the alpha and you were the omega, when he’d snap and then come running back to you with his tail between his legs like a kicked puppy.

You used your arms to boost yourself onto the counter, feet dangling off as you settled on the cool tile. You were nearly Joel’s height this way, leveling the playing field a bit by making him look straight at you. You pulled a knee up to your chest, the other leg still hanging down as you mashed your cheek against your kneecap.

He took a step closer, standing in front of your bent leg now as he looked at you. His rugged features softened as he spoke, his voice gruff. "Look...what I said last night," he began, "It was really shitty, and I didn’t mean it, and I'm sorry."

He reached out, calloused fingers gently wrapping around your ankle, giving it a squeeze. "I just... I worry about you, that's all." His thumb pressed the wonky stick and poke tattoo of the omega symbol on the inside of your ankle. You’d given it to yourself when you were seventeen, some rebellious act of reclaiming your identity. Now it was just a faded memory of growing up in a quarantine zone.

Joel always had a hard time with words, expressing himself more through actions than any alpha you’d ever seen. You rarely shied away from his touches, coming to expect them over the past year the two of you had been assigned together as patrol partners. 

You sighed, blowing air out through your nose as your head tilted. Joel stood close to you, your hanging calf pressed along his thigh as you met his gaze. “I know you worry, Joel,” you said softly, looking up at him through your lashes. “But you gotta treat me like a teammate, not like you’re my babysitter.”

He looked embarrassed, his eyes darting to the ground and then back up to you. "I never meant to make you feel like you were just some object, or incompetent. I just…” he sighs, struggling to find the right words. “You make me so damn frustrated sometimes."

You huffed, shaking your head. “You don’t get to try to justify it, Joel,” you said, an exasperated tone in your voice. Of course he’d qualify it, find it wasn’t entirely his fault. “You reduced me to an incompetent partner, useless. Just an object for breeding,” you whispered, your glare hard. “Felt like you had no respect for me unless I was bending over for you and letting you fuck me.”

Joel bristled at the words, the sting of them hurting almost as much as the pain on your face. He clenched his hands into fists, his whole body tensing with the effort to keep the need to comfort you under control.

He took a step forward, his eyes fixed on you. "I do respect you, dammit," he growled. "You don't think I don't admire how strong and independent you are? If I didn't respect you and trust you to have my back, I would have found a new partner a long time ago."

“You said all I was good for was shooting straight, Joel,” you said, your voice cracking as you spoke. You worried your lower lip with your teeth, fingers tapping nervously against your bent leg. It felt like you were going against your DNA, standing up to Joel like this.

Joel ran a hand over his face, the weight of his actions sinking in. He knew you were right. He knew he had crossed a line.

"You're right, it was unfair," he said, his eyes darting to the floor. "I was just frustrated, I was worried about you. This job, it's dangerous, and you've got such a damn stubborn, independent streak. You never ask for help, and I always worry I'm gonna wake up one day and find you not there, and it’ll be my fault for not being fast enough."

You huff, your expression softening slightly at Joel’s confession. You knew he was dealing with his own demons, his own reasons to wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat. He was still standing between your legs, fingers looped around your ankle. “Joel,” you murmured, “I’m not running away or anything, I just was smoking a joint to help myself sleep.”

Joel looked up at you when you spoke, his gaze lifting from the faded tattoo. He hated how defeated he felt, and he hated how hurt you looked.

"Damnit, you don't need to do that. Why can't you just come to me when you can't sleep, and I can help you sleep the right way?" he sighed, moving in closer.

His frustration made you even more angry. “Fuck, Joel. Does the sleeping thing really bother you that much?” you huffed, moving further back from him on the counter and turning to look out the window. You felt queasy, chewing over the idea of telling him a bit of the truth. You decided to go for it. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I’ve never scented an alpha before.”

The wind against the side of the cabin was the only thing filling the silence. Most omegas got scenting partners out of the way when they were teenagers, exploring their desires and learning what they liked in a mate. But you were in your late twenties and never tried any of it because you were too busy fighting your designation. You didn’t want any part of being an omega, even if that meant not experiencing things.

You didn’t even know what you were doing—didn’t even know where to start.

Joel's eyes widened when you confessed that you had never scented an alpha before. The revelation took him aback, making his breath hitch in his chest. His mind went through a whirlwind of thought, the realization that he would be your first alpha to scent you hitting him like a truck. He can hardly consider the fact that it was contingent on if you let him. 

His omega had never scented an alpha before. The possessive instincts within him roared to life, clawing at the edges of his mind. No, you’re not his. He needed to stop thinking that.

"You never-" he began, his voice rough and strained. "You never scented anyone?"

Your cheeks erupted with warmth, embarrassment rocking through you. You ended up covering your face with your palms, not wanting Joel to look at you. “I’ve scented other omegas… betas.” It felt too submissive, too docile. You didn’t want to be like other omegas you saw in the quarantine zone and Jackson—stuck bending to their alphas’ every whim, you wanted to be free.

“So don’t get so offended that I haven’t scented you, it’s not personal.”

Joel's jaw dropped at your confession, his mind spinning. He had known you were stubborn and independent, but this? He had never heard of an omega not scenting anyone by the time they were out of their teenage years.

The way you covered your face, the smell of your embarrassment and shyness filling the air, made something primal stir in his chest. The thought of no other alpha ever having the opportunity to even scent you was both thrilling and infuriating.

“I just wanted someone to treat me like their equal,” you whispered, crossing your arms over your chest. It was hard for you to let the silence exist between you, always filling it. You had to move from the weight of Joel’s surprised gaze, making you turn to the window and stare out of it. The snow was so heavy outside the cabin that you could hardly see the trees. “I would do it, I just don’t want to become someone’s property. Which I know scenting is really different and far from mating and being claimed but it feels like the first step.”

Joel's heart ached as you spoke. He knew you wanted equality and respect, something he always thought you deserved. But to know that you had never allowed yourself to feel comforts like being scented because of fear of being treated like property was something he hadn't realized.

He leaned towards you, trying to see your eyes. "You know I wouldn't treat you like that, right? I would never make you feel less than an equal just because you're an omega," he said, his voice low and gentle.

“You tried to last night,” you mumbled, still facing away from Joel. You leaned your forehead against the window, the glass cool against your skin. That was what made it so difficult, you couldn’t forget the tone Joel spoke to you with—it was the same tone that alphas used to force omegas to submit. It rattled you.

Joel clenched his jaw at your words, guilt bubbling up in his chest again. He knew you were right, that he had tried to reduce you to just your designation, that he had spoken to you in the way that made most omegas crumble.

He moved closer, close enough that he could smell the sour scent of your distress again. Everything at him was screaming to make it better, to fix it.

"You’re right,” he admitted. “I was a dick, and I hurt you. I won’t do it again. I swear on Ellie’s life."

You felt warmth radiating off him and onto your back. “You really scared me, Joel,” you whispered, your voice wavering as you spoke. That was the truth of it, he scared you last night. “I know you can overpower me in a second if you wanted to—I really have to trust you not to. My life is in your hands.”

As you spoke, Joel’s heart ached. He knew you were right. You were strong and fierce, but he was an alpha, and he could overpower you in a heartbeat if he wanted to. He gently squeezed your ankle, tugging on it. He could feel the heat radiating off you, and it took every ounce of restraint he had not to press himself against you.

“I know, I know I did. I’m sorry, baby,” he murmured, the nickname coming out before he could stop himself.

You sniffled, wiping tears from the corners of your eyes. You didn’t know what to do, anxiety binding your chest in knots. Joel stood close to you, nearly touching your back as his hand flattened against the porcelain countertop. “Alphas don’t have to think about that kind of stuff, ya know? You don���t have to constantly worry about it. You could be alone for your whole life and it wouldn’t be a problem, it’s not the same for omegas.” 

Your forehead was still pressed against the window pane, your body curling up to make you small. “Don’t gotta worry about an alpha forcing a claim on you, or killing you if you refuse. I’ve got to think about it all the time, even in Jackson. And then you wonder why I hate being an omega.”

Pain and sadness wrenched in Joel's chest as you spoke, his heart breaking at the vulnerability in your voice. He knew you were right—alphas didn't have the same worries and fears that you did.

He closed the distance between you, his chest pressing against your back as he leaned over the counter. He could feel the tremors in your body, and he desperately wanted to fix it, to make it better, to take your pain away.

"I know, baby," he murmured again, hooking his chin on your shoulder. The wiry strands of his beard curled against the collar of your sweater. "I know."

There was something in his solemn tone that made you break, a pathetic whimper rocking out of you before you could stifle it. He sounded so small, you never heard him sound like that before. It cracked a hole in your defenses just enough for the whole structure to come crumbling down.

You let out a sob, turning against Joel until you could bury your face in his chest. You cried into his flannel, fingers twisting in the well-worn material. He was still your person, your best friend in the whole world. You always turned to him.

Joel's heart ached as you buried your face into his chest. He could feel your tears soaking into his shirt, and his arms wrapped around you, pulling you as close as physically possible.

He held you tightly, one hand coming up to cup the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair. He gently guided your head to rest against his chest, his chin resting on top of your head.

"Shhh, baby, it's okay," he whispered, his voice rough and thick with emotion. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Wanted to take it all back the second I said it, I was such an asshole."

You didn’t know how long you cried for, clinging to Joel like a life preserver in a storm. He held you close, his calloused fingers tangling in your hair and his chin resting on the crown of your head. You inhaled his scent from him, the deep, musky smell of an alpha, mixed with a spicy scent that was entirely Joel’s. 

Joel held you through your tears, his fingers running through your hair in a soothing motion. He inhaled deeply, his nose buried in your hair, the scent of your distress beginning to fade and be replaced by a more familiar honeyed earth scent.

It took you a while to calm down, making you hiccup as your tears eventually ran dry. His shirt was soaked with them, but he didn't care. He just wanted you to feel better, he wanted to fix whatever he had broken.

"You all cried out, darlin'?” he murmured, his voice soft and gentle.

You nodded against Joel, sniffling still. “I know you’re sorry, Joel,” you mumbled, your voice soft and thick from crying. You still held onto him, face pressed into his sternum.

Joel's heart clenched at your mumbled words, his hold on you tightening slightly. "I'll say it as many times as you want to hear it, baby," he said, his own voice rough with emotion. He rubbed slow, soothing circles on your back. Your body was pressed against him, warm and soft.

Joel’s voice sounded thick, his Texan drawl heavier. You just held on, trying to catch your breath. The wind sounded louder outside, buffeting against the roof and filling the silence between you two.

Your distress scent faded, only leaving your cloyingly sweet smell behind. Joel took another breath, inhaling. It was intoxicating, the way you smelled. Almost honeyed earth after a heavy rain, it was addictive. He always had a hard time focusing when he was close to you like this.

He pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind, focusing on you and you only. He continued to hold you, his fingers still running through your hair. "Feeling better, darlin'?"

You nodded, pulling away slightly. You wiped your face off, your skin damp from your crying. “Yeah, I’m better,” you whispered. You looked up at Joel for a moment, your eyes bloodshot and watery. 

Joel's eyes roamed over your face, taking in your puffy eyes and running nose and swollen lips. You looked beautiful even when you had been crying, and it took all of his self-restraint not to pull you back against him again.

He nodded, his thumb coming up to lightly trace your wet cheeks, wiping away a few remaining tears. "I’m glad, darlin'," he murmured, his eyes not leaving yours.

Your lips were pursed thoughtfully, considering. “So you’ll start trusting me to handle myself?” you asked, trying to negotiate. “And I’ll rely on my instincts more,” you offered, still whispering. “Alright?”

Joel's heart was pounding in his chest as he held your ankle, his thumb rubbing over the faded tattoo there. He knew you were right, that he often let his protectiveness get the best of him when it came to you. He wanted to keep you safe at all costs, but sometimes in his efforts, he ended up stifling you.

He exhaled deeply, feeling the guilt and the weight of his actions settle heavily on his shoulders. He knew he would agree to anything you asked. "I will, but you have no idea how hard it is," he murmured, his gaze never leaving your face.

You nodded, tears still burning in your eyes. You needed him to agree, or this wouldn’t work. “Joel, should we change patrol partners?” you asked, tilting your head. You didn’t want to, but it also wasn’t safe for him to constantly put himself in harm’s way for you. “Someone easier for you to be around might be better. And I need someone who trusts me.”

Joel's stomach lurched at your question, the thought of being paired with someone other than you making his blood run cold. "No," he growled, his hand tightening around your ankle reflexively. "No. We're not changing partners."

He stepped even closer to you, his eyes filled with determination. "I don't want anyone else. I don't want you paired with anyone else. It's you and me," he insisted, his voice firm.

Joel crowded in close, pulling you toward the edge of the counter. Your knee pressed against his waist, his belt warm through the hole in the knee of your sweatpants. You clicked your tongue softly, your small hand smoothing along the back of his larger one. “S’okay, I’m not going anywhere,” you whispered, making sure he looked you in the eye. “You and me. Just gotta start trusting me.”

Joel's shoulders sagged with relief, the tension draining from his body as he heard your reassurance. The feel of your hand against his, the way your knee rested against his hip, it grounded him, reminded him of what was important.

“I trust ya.” He leaned in even closer, resting his forehead against yours. "You and me," he repeated, his voice a low rumble. "Always."

He took a deep breath, inhaling the sweet, honeyed scent of you. It filled his senses, calming his nerves.

You basked in the closeness for a moment, letting your eyes slip shut as you inhaled his deep, heady musk of him. It felt resolved for now. “Alright big guy, let’s make some food,” you said, lightly patting Joel’s stomach with a hand before you twisted around him off the counter in the kitchen.

Being outside of Jackson made you miss electricity. Thankfully you knew there was a chance that there would be a storm during the scouting run, packing the truck with extra food and firewood that had now come in handy. 

But, neither of you realized the storm would last for so long. It was three days that you two were stuck in the cabin, watching as the snow piled higher and higher. You weren’t waiting for it to melt, just to stop coming down so Joel could see your way out without crashing into a tree or a boulder.

You cracked two cans of Chef Boyardee that Joel found in one of the houses you picked through, setting them in the fireplace to warm as you sat cross-legged on the rug in front of it.

Joel was moving around behind you, the springs of the couch squealing as he sat on them. His gaze made the hair on the back of your neck prickle. But, he stayed silent—typical behavior for him. 

You looked at the grandfather clock on the wall, surprised to see that it was already nearing three in the afternoon. You must have slept in later than you expected, most of the day already having gone by. Honestly, it was better that way, you and Joel were starting to get a bit of cabin fever.

Silence permeated the room, brightly patterned oven mitts you found in a drawer covering your hands as you scarfed down the food. “So you used to buy this stuff at like, the store?” you asked, finally breaking the quiet as you turned to look at Joel.

You were little when the outbreak started, you didn’t remember much of what life was like before. It was normal for you to ask him things. Joel felt like a bridge to a different time.

It always caught him off guard when you asked about life before the outbreak—he couldn’t help but forget how young you were compared to him. He nodded as he chewed, glancing up to see you backlit by the fire. It made you look like you had a gold light surrounding you.

“Yeah, we used to buy everything at grocery stores,” he said, clearing his throat a bit as he talked. “There was more food than you could imagine, really, there was too much. A lot of it got thrown away.”

You listened with rapt attention, chewing the ravioli thoroughly. You really couldn’t imagine such abundance—even in Jackson everything was grown and made to satisfy the needs of a few seasons. Nothing ever went to waste, though. 

“That sounds like a dream,” you said softly, finishing your food. You stretched out on your back on the rug, the fire warming your side as you got comfortable. 

“These days it seems like one,” he mumbled, the sound of his spoon scraping the can filling the room. He couldn’t look at you directly, it felt like he was staring at the sun. It was hard not to go to you. His palms itched with the need to feel your fire-warmed skin beneath them. 

Joel got up sharply, running his fingers through his hair as he looked out the window. “M’gonna go hunting before it gets too dark out,” he said, scratching the back of his head as he walked away from you.

You hummed your acknowledgment, watching Joel pull on his gloves and his jacket and sling his rifle over his shoulder. He smelled the collar of the coat, your scent probably lingered from when you’d borrowed it last night.

“Be careful,” you murmured, watching Joel from where you lay. You wanted to get up, go adjust his jacket and the twisted strap of his rifle. But you stayed where you were.

“Always am,” he said, giving you a once-over before heading out the front door and into the snow. 

You busied yourself with melting snow to fill the big plastic bin Joel had dragged inside from the truck, cleaning the guns and mending some clothes with a needle and thread. Normally you’d go hunting with Joel, but you could tell he needed space for a bit. 

The cold woke him up, made him feel like he finally got his head out of water. Being stuck in that cabin with you—with your smell—was driving him crazy. The two of you spent a lot of time together, but it normally was outside. This was the first time you’d been smashed together in close quarters for more than a day. 

It was making him lose his mind.

He’d rather be shot than admit it, but he spent the first ten minutes of his hunting trip holding the collar of his jacket to his nose and fisting his cock. As soon as he realized he could smell you on the canvas, he’d been hard as a rock. 

Joel never met an omega whose scent got to him as much as yours.

He held the aging fabric in a fist to his face as he stroked up and down his shaft. His eyes were screwed shut, jaw clenched so hard it ached. It wasn’t hard for him to imagine that his spit-slicked hand was yours, the image of you stretched out on the rug stuck in his mind. The fire illuminated the contours of your body, highlighting the swell of your breasts and the indent of your waist.

It wasn’t the first time he fantasized about you. It started with a dream of you crawling into his sleeping bag while you were out on a scouting mission, pressing up close and nuzzling into him like you were his, whispering everything you wanted him to do to you in his ear. 

He woke up from that painfully hard, thankful that he was in the safety of his bedroom in Jackson rather than with you. But it spiraled viciously from there—even if he didn’t start off thinking of you, he would certainly get there eventually. Knotting you, biting you, fucking you. It all lived in his head. 

Joel groaned, biting down on his lower lip as his cum spilled onto the snow. The tree he was leaning against was rough on the back of his head as he slumped a bit, taking deep breaths. It took him a few moments for the ringing in his ears to stop, head finally clearing as he tucked himself back into his pants. 

With the edge taken off he readied himself, wiping the sweat off his forehead before grabbing his rifle off his shoulder. There was always some level of shame he felt after he jerked off to the thought of you, knowing he’d have to face you again and pretend nothing was amiss. 

The wind howled as he walked deeper into the forest, pushing his thoughts aside as he started to look for any semblance of tracks in the snow.

—

The rabbit Joel killed was a decent enough dinner with the dried soup you brought from Jackson, the meal rich enough to lull you both into silence as you thumbed through old paperback books you found in a closet. 

It was long dark when you told Joel you’d be going to bed, wishing him goodnight as you made your way to the bedroom. You were tired enough to fall asleep with little fuss, curling into the thick quilt and going unconscious almost as soon as your head hit the pillow.

But, of course, you didn’t stay that way. 

Screams filled the space around you. You were unseeing, choking on thick smoke. Opening your mouth to speak only resulted in a scream, the sound ragged and desperate. You could hear gunfire in the distance, but you didn’t know which way to look.

You were alone in this place, that much you could tell. The air was thick and warm—smelled like the omega shelter back in Vegas, you spent two years there. You reached out ahead of you into the darkness, hoping to find a wall or furniture or something. But it was empty, each step further into the black maw that seemed to have no ending. 

The sound of clicking made your hair stand on end. You were all-too familiar with that sound, the labored breathing of an infected following it. You didn’t know which way to move, the clicking was directionless. There were no weapons, no way to run. 

Clicking filled your ears, directly on top of you. Teeth tore into your flesh, ripping into your arm as—

You woke with a jolt, eyes wide in the darkness as you let out a choked gasp. Screaming still haunted the back of your mind as you sat up, trembling hands running over your face as you tried to enter the world of the living.

Your nightmares were relentless, memories of the fall of the Las Vegas QZ still fresh in your mind despite it happening a decade ago. The explosions that brought the walls down, the influx of raiders and infected alike. The smell of smoke and burning flesh and hair made you choke, forcing you out of bed as you fumbled for your Altoid’s tin on the nightstand.

Joel was asleep when you crept through the living room, good ear pressed into the cushion of the couch as you tiptoed past. The night was cold, Joel’s jacket back on your shoulders as you looked off the porch and pinched the joint between shivering fingers.

It stopped snowing, at least. The sky was cloudy, the moon peaking through sections of the clouds and making the snowy landscape glitter like diamonds. You and Joel would be able to leave in the morning.

A gust of wind made you shudder, the joint slipping from your fingers. It was a scramble to catch it, sending you to your knees. The wooden boards creaked as you tried to grab the remainder of your joint as it rolled. Your fingers just barely missed it, clutching the empty air as you watched it fall through a crack in the floorboards and disappear.

“Fuck!” you groaned, sitting back on your heels. You’d be awake the rest of the night, still feeling edgy and paranoid from your nightmare. You dragged your hands over your face, exasperated.

You headed inside, defeated. Joel’s jacket was returned to its hook as you looked at the way the fire lit up the room orange. The shadows flickered along the walls, sending shivers down your spine as you remembered waking up to the same glow in Las Vegas.

Then your gaze landed on Joel, still comfortably sleeping on the couch. One leg hung off, planted against the floor as his other foot was far over the edge—he was far too tall to be sleeping on the sofa.

You paused, chewing your lip as you stared at him. If you swallowed your pride, you’d be able to sleep tonight. 

It was a hard thing, letting go of your fears. You realized if there was ever an alpha you’d bend to, it would be Joel. Something about him made you trust him, even when he was harsh and rude and distant, you still knew him inside out. 

Part of you knew he was yours, even if you wouldn’t admit it. It was the talk of Jackson, Joel panting at the heels of some young omega like a lost puppy—you heard the whispers. 

You decided to give him a chance.

He didn’t stir as you approached, wondering if you should wake him up or just clamber onto him. The couch was already cramped enough with just him on it.

You tentatively reached out to shake his arm, Joel’s dark eyes opening almost as soon as you touched him. He sat up fast, looking ready to fight as his gaze took in every inch of the cabin. You yelped softly, moving back from him in surprise.

“What’s goin’ on?” he asked, voice thick and raspy from sleep as he started to get up. 

“I can’t sleep,” you admitted sheepishly, wringing your hands together in front of you. You felt silly asking him after everything that had happened between you two, but you promised him you’d follow your instincts more. His muscles tensed, you didn’t mean to cause such a commotion, your heart in your throat. “It’s stupid… I-I can figure it out.”

Joel relaxed, the tension in his shoulders leaving as he processed what you said. Your concern made him smile softly, a hand reaching out to curl around your shoulder. “Want me to help you sleep?” he asked, voice low. He treated you carefully, not wanting to scare you off. 

He was honored you were even willing to ask.

You huffed softly, brows furrowing as you nodded. His grin stretched, heart thumping with excitement as he obliged you. He was relieved you were asking, wanting to be a good alpha for you. Wanting to help you. “We can stay out here or go to the bed, up to you, baby,” he murmured, dark eyes focused on you as you considered. 

“The bed,” you mumbled, turning with little fanfare. Joel followed hot on your heels, warm at your back. You were anxious, breaths short and shallow as you tried to calm down. 

It was no big deal. It was just Joel. Your Joel.

You got in first, curling beneath the bedding as you turned to look up at Joel. He was toeing off his heavy boots and taking off his belt, shining orange and yellow in the dim firelight. He looked formidable from this angle, tall and broad like most alphas were.

“You alright?” Joel asked, noticing the trepidation in your gaze. He sat on the edge of the bed, one hand resting on the old quilt as he leaned a bit toward you. “I can go back to the couch. Don’t want you to feel pressured—I won’t do nothing you don’t want to do.”

You hummed, nodding. “It’s just sleeping, right?” you whispered softly. Your eyes were wide as you looked up at Joel, laying back on the pillow. 

He nodded. “As easy as closing your eyes,” he assured, his drawl thick. 

You couldn’t imagine the luxury of sleep coming so easy, but you nodded anyway. Joel clambered into bed with you, sliding beneath the covers with a sigh of relief. You were sure it felt better on his back than the couch, watching him stretch as he settled next to you.

“Just gotta come here,” he said, looking over at you. You looked so sweet in the dim light, eyes wide and lips parted. He wanted to reach out and pull you over himself, instead he dropped his hand, fingers tapping the top of the comforter in anticipation.

You acquiesced, scooting over to meld into his side. His arm curled around you, occupying the void between your neck and shoulder. Joel was so warm, it felt like you were cuddling with a space heater as you settled into him. His big hand pressed between your shoulder blades, rolling you toward him and tucking your face into his throat.

It was so easy to get comfortable, melting into him as you took in a deep breath. You always thought he smelled so comforting, warm and a little musky. You only ever caught his scent in passing, never concentrated like this.

Joel felt how you relaxed against him, a smile on his face as one of your arms stretched across his chest and your nose pressed into the hollow of his throat. It took you a few deep breaths to completely let go of your tension, the set of your shoulders sagging against him. “That’s it,” he murmured as he rubbed your back.

It only took a matter of minutes for you to feel your eyelids drooping, your breathing slowing as you meld into him. “M’tired,” you mumbled, sounding groggy. Your words were muffled against his neck, lips ghosting over the delicate skin of his throat. 

Joel chuckled softly, fingers lightly curling at the nape of your neck. “I know, baby,” he said. He glanced at you, dark eyes watching how your eyelids got heavier and heavier with every blink. He was surprised you were so willing to scent him, and how fast it worked.

He shifted slightly, bearded cheek pressing against the top of your head as he let his eyes shut. He felt so calm. The fitful sleep he normally experienced eluded him as you both finally drifted off.

—

Sleep became a sweltering, restless thing throughout the night. Dreams took on dark silhouettes, feverish shapes and flashes of light that seared and burned through your veins. You were weightless in the murky water surrounding you, fingers reaching for something. Someone to anchor yourself to.

Joel.

All your senses smashed into one, an explosion as life-altering as the Big Bang. You were a writhing mass of feeling that had you leaning into air heavy with tension and desire.

He was in it with you, just out of sight. You were so familiar with his presence, his smell, you always knew the weight of when he was nearby. Then, all at once he was with you in the dark place.

He was everywhere. The press and slide of heated skin where your bodies met and separated. You called for him, voice catching and dying in your throat before you had the chance.

You were burning from the inside, your spine an inferno as you reached for him in the dark. You knew he would fix it, knew he was what you needed. He would get you through the blaze and onto the other side.

He was a weighted shadow around you. Completely surrounding you, pulling you tight and grounding you to the anchor of his body. He kept you from drifting off into the fathoms of the abyss.

“Joel,” you whispered. You heard him respond to you in turn, the sound of your name like honey on his lips. The press of his mouth to your neck was like napalm and jolted you—

— and you woke with a rattling gasp, lurching where you lay in bed next to him. Sweat was beaded under your arms and around your temples, heat radiating from where Joel’s arms held you to his side.

You were panting into the cool air of the cabin, blinking until the unfamiliar shapes found themselves into focus once more. It was daylight, far past sunrise from the way sunlight was filtering through the blinds.

Your skin felt a size too small. Everything was uncomfortable and itchy as you stirred in Joel’s embrace, lifting your head out of his neck to take in deep breaths of clean air. It still carried his scent, permeating the room throughout the night. The area between your legs ached like a wound, your thighs squeezing together to relieve the throbbing. 

Something made him wake, the air shifted and thickened around him as he slowly blinked into the morning air. Part of him almost surged out of bed, ready to defend and protect. But he understood on first inhale.

The smell of you was everywhere. It was all-encompassing and alluring, filling his senses all at once. Saliva was rushing to his mouth, your scent was an intoxicating thing that had his nerves alight. Desire took hold of him, real and rooted in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time.

You knew when he woke, you didn’t even have to look at his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you gasped, turning away from him as your hand snaked between your legs to feel the mess of your sex. The predicament you put the two of you into was less than ideal. “I thought we had more time—I didn’t mean to.”

He was relieved. You were still in there, in your own mind enough to talk. His mind was slow to the uptake, blood rushing elsewhere as his thoughts turned over themselves. He was trying to remember from before, trying to figure out what it meant.

A soft heat. A distant memory from a junior high health class sprung into his mind. Not a hard heat brought on by a cycle. A soft one could be brought on by stress or exposure to an alpha, but they are shorter than a hard heat. Temporary. Sometimes a single knotting is enough to pull an omega from a soft heat unlike hard heats that last a week.

Joel cursed. It was too loud in the quiet of the room. His head was swimming from the force of the blood rushing to his cock, painful and aching as you moved away from his side.

“Gotta tell me right now, do you want me to go?” Joel asked, already rolling toward you. He followed the way your arm disappeared beneath the waistband of your sweatpants, your face twisted with both pain and pleasure.

It was a sight he only thought he would see in his wildest fantasies.

You were rigid and panting, squeezing your eyes shut for a moment as you tried to order your thoughts. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t thought of Joel helping you through a heat before. His rough and attentive hands guiding you through it.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, voice cutting into a whine. “You don’t have to—I just, I can do it on my own if I have to.”

The air between you was aflame before Joel kicked the quilt off and turned toward you. The need to give someone, you, what you needed was burning in him. It was a reminder that even after all this time he was still an alpha, he could still do this for you. 

A wet stamp of his lips on your throat made you keen, tilting your head back against the pillow to give him more space. His hand curled around your jaw and pulled you to him, lips smashing together in a fervent kiss. It all felt like it was building for far longer than the last evening, the urgency as you opened your mouth against his was the culmination of nearly a year of pining.    

The kiss deepened, his body tipping into yours and setting his skin on fire. Joel grabbed you with a wide hand, shifting you fully beneath him as his mouth dropped to your throat. He bit down hard enough to make you jolt, hands grabbing onto his biceps.

You were still mumbling into the air, shaking from holding back. Joel took your jaw in his hand and pressed his forehead to yours, his dark salt-and-pepper curls already damp from sweat. “Stop, baby,” he murmured softly, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. “I know what you need, I’ve got ya.”

It was easy to give in then, nodding as you both moved together quickly. Joel stripped you of your clothes, tossing them into the room as your fingers fumbled with the buttons on his flannel. You wanted to feel his skin under your hands, trace the contours of his muscles and the shapes of his scars. He was deliciously broad, all realistic working-man muscles–he had never been the flamboyant type.

He couldn’t help but press his cock into the crease of your hip as his nose traced to the curve of your throat, taking in the sweet scent there. His knot ached with the friction, a groan pulled from his throat as he devoured your mouth.

A big hand gripped at your belly and then your hip, positioning you so he could settle between your bent knees. He blindly found his rightful place between them, wide quads pressing against your own. The breath rushed out of him as he reached down and felt your soaked cunt against his fingertips.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” Joel breathed against your jaw. You were in a haze, hardly processing what Joel was saying as you whined, lifting your hips to the press of his hand. 

The air was punched out of your lungs as he dipped his fingers lower to collect the slick pouring from you, smoothing the rough pads of his fingers over your clit in swirling motions. His other hand flattened over your belly, holding you down to the mattress as he strummed his fingers over you as carefully as he would a guitar.

“Ohh,” you gasped, letting your eyes fall shut at the feeling as your hips stuttered in his hand. “Joel.” 

It was all you could manage to say, all you could manage to think. His expression made your heart trip, your hands reaching for him without hesitation. Your fingers were still slick from when you’d touched yourself upon waking, petting them over his beard as your hips rolled against his hand.

Joel caught the smell of you on your fingers, his dark eyes flashing. His lips dropped open as he sought your hand, pulling your index and middle finger into the hot, wet confines of his mouth. You whined, brows drawing together as warmth covered your face and neck. Needy, wet licks of his tongue took the flavor right off your fingers. 

He couldn’t help but jolt his hips forward, pressing the hard line of his cock against the back of your thigh. A deep sound rumbled from his chest as he let your fingers drop from his mouth, rocking you with his hips again.

The hand between your legs dipped lower, two thick fingers pressing into you. An urge he couldn’t articulate spurred him on, a sympathetic moan escaping him as he watched your back break on a whine. His eyes nearly rolled back in his skull as he felt the tight press of you around every curve and bend of his fingers.

You were painfully sensitive, already feeling yourself tightening around his digits as your thighs clamped around his forearm. It felt wonderful, transcendental, but it wasn’t enough, not right now. “Joel,” you gasped, hips tilting fervently against his hand, “I need–”

He nodded before you could even finish your sentence. He knew, of course he knew.

There was an ache of emptiness as he pulled his fingers from you, taking his cock in his hand and smearing your arousal over it. His weight pressed down above you as he hitched your thighs over his, nudging his hips against yours. You keened at the blunt press of the head of his cock through the seam of your sex, the wet sound of your lips parting for him loud in your ears. 

He teased you for a few moments, pressing the tip of his cock against your clit to make you whine sweetly. The grin on his face was diabolical, he knew it was mean to keep you on edge like this right now–but he couldn’t resist.

“Joel, fuck,” you groaned, digging your nails into his arms. He got the message, rocking forward to find purchase against you and filling you with a hard slot of his hips. You were wet enough to take him in one go.

You both stilled against one another, panting and holding on as you adjusted to the new sensation. Joel never thought in a million years that he would be so lucky. To have you pressed into the mattress beneath him was a dream come true, making him let out a strangled noise as he dropped his weight to his forearms to press his nose back against your neck.

Your cunt pulsing wetly around him brought the dying man back to life, pulling him in as your pants grew more desperate. He let instinct take over, pupils expanding like ink dropped in water as he set his teeth against the soft skin of your shoulder.

It wasn’t gentle. You didn’t want it to be. Joel grabbed you hard and fucked you senseless, driving you deeper and deeper into the mattress. The repetition of him filling you over and over was merciless, reducing you to mush beneath him as you forgot everything aside from his name. He nipped at your collarbones and anywhere else he could reach, each sharp feeling of his teeth drawing a ragged sound from you as your head pressed back into the mattress.

Joel was completely running on instinct, focused on filling you. To pin you down and knot you deep where you were begging for it. 

The walls of your weeping cunt were starting to flutter around him, spine arching like a bow pulled too tight. He grabbed your hip with a wide hand, forcing you to take him deeper. You were whining, mumbling pleas Joel couldn’t quite understand as your hands spasmed on his arms. He pressed his lips against your neck, stamping wet kisses up and down your throat, licking at your heated skin.

He rutted his hips hard against yours, making shivers run up your spine as you tried to catch your breath. You felt frantic, euphoria clouding the edges of your vision as he worked you higher and higher. Everything in you became painfully tight, a strangled whine coming from your throat as your legs shook and squeezed around his hips.

The pleasure was overwhelming, white-hot and practically making you pass out as Joel hitched your leg up, pressing into you as he grunted like an animal. Your whole body spasmed, cunt clamping down around him like a vise as you desperately tried to stay conscious. 

Joel’s hips bunched against yours, his teeth setting into the junction of your neck. The tease of a claiming bite, just enough to make you whimper. He jerked back away from your neck at the last moment, lifting his weight off of you as his dark eyes squeezed shut. Pleasure was licking at the base of his spine, muscles of his abdomen knitting together.

He groaned, spilling inside you and grinding your hips together. Too caught up in his instincts, his head whipped to the side to bite the calf that rested on his shoulder, teeth digging into the meat of it. You keened, pleasure and pain mixing as he pressed in close as his knot began to swell inside you.

The soft sheets embraced his body as Joel collapsed, his weight pressing you into the mattress as you shared each other’s breaths. Your pussy was still pulsing around him, making him tremble as he panted into your throat. The ache of his knot inside you was satiating, drinking a cool glass of water after a long summer’s day.

You brought his mouth to yours, the two of you shifting so Joel was on his back and you sprawled over his chest. He was greedy, thick fingers snaking between your bodies to feel where you two were joined. A broken sound came from his mouth as he felt how you were stretched around his knot.

You traded breaths and open-mouthed kisses, breeching whatever semblance of a chance at a professional relationship after this. Joel’s big hand pressed against your spine, pulling your belly to his as he nuzzled at your cheek, the curve of the bridge of his nose mashing into your heated skin. His beard tickled your face, making you scrunch your nose on occasion as you stamped your lips to his.

He softened enough to slip out of you, making you whine as he dragged his fingers through the mess between your legs and pressed it back inside your cunt. 

It was his intention to pull away, to go to the living room and give you some space now that you no longer needed him. But you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pressing your face into his chest. Your knees hooked around his thighs, moulding your bodies together as the sun casted stripes across you.

You fell asleep that way, hopelessly tangled as your heart rates slowed and breaths grew heavy.

–

You needed him twice more, waking him up at sunset and in the middle of the night as the moon rose high in the sky. Each time was feverish, you woke him desperately by teething at his throat and pressing your bare pussy against the hard muscle of his quad. It was too easy to press his knot inside you both times, the two of you whispering nonsense to one another as you bedded down, Joel sucking lazily at your breasts before you licked and nuzzled the scoop of his throat.

He felt something terrifying as the moonlight illuminated you after taking his knot for a third time, spend and slick leaking from your puffy, abused cunt as you drifted off. The need to keep you wrapped around his heart like a cage, delirium making him want to hide you away in this cabin with him and never go back to Jackson. 

He blearily reminded himself as sleep closed in that you just were in a difficult situation, he was the only alpha you could have turned to. It was nothing personal.

–

Waking up was a luxurious thing, rest seeped into the marrow of his bones as he stretched in the body-warmed sheets. He was lucky you were feverish enough to keep them both warm through the night, the fire in the hearth long burned out. Sun painted his eyelids orange, a hand scrubbing his salt and pepper beard as he finally opened them.

You were curled at his side, eyes open as you looked out the window. Upon his waking you turned to him, pensive and thoughtful as you took in his expression. You were returned to yourself again, calm without the storm threatening to swallow you whole.

“Thank you,” you murmured, voice thick with sleep as you used his arm as a pillow. The smell of sex and sweat was starting to fade, the evidence only in the marks Joel had sucked onto your throat… and your chest… and your stomach… and your inner thighs. He blushed at how carried away he’d gotten, over a year of hidden-away need manifesting as him greedily taking all you were willing to give yesterday.

“You didn’t have to take care of me,” you whispered, the silence from Joel making you panic. He was just looking at you, his curls sticking up every which way as the back of his skull remained pressed into the pillow. 

“‘Course I did, baby,” he murmured, his Texas drawl even thicker first thing in the morning. He reached out to you, gently squeezing your shoulder beneath the grasp of his fingers. “Wasn’t gonna let you suffer.”

You both stared at one another, neither of you daring to move first as though the dream would fall apart. Joel studied you just as you did him, taking in every twitch of your features as his brown eyes turned molten in the morning sun.

It was impossible to say who moved first. Your hand was on Joel’s jaw as his fingers pressed into your waist, lips smashing together in a fervent clash of teeth and tongues. 

You straddled him this time, giving his aching back a break as you leaned over him and kissed his jaw. For some reason you felt more desperate now than in your soft heat, cupping his cheeks with your hands as you curled your fingers into his beard.

There were no excuses this time, truth revealed in the morning light. No biological need driving either of you together aside from your lust.

Joel’s big palm smacked the curve of your ass, making you squeak against his throat before a giggle poured from you. He grinned, squeezing the plush flesh in his hands as he pressed his lips anywhere they could reach.

“Can I?” you whispered, eyes wide as you pulled back to meet his gaze. You looked vulnerable, as though you thought he would reject your advances despite the fact that his cock was already swelling with arousal. He couldn’t even imagine a world where he could reject you.

“Anything you want, baby,” he breathed, ready to burn the world for you if you asked.

You smiled, relief flooding through you. You didn’t think Joel would push you away, but you weren’t sure. Thank god you guessed right.

You spat in the palm of your hand, lifting yourself up just enough to reach between the two of you and take Joel into your hand. Without the haze of your heat blinding you, you were shocked by the size of him. It was hard to believe you were able to take his knot at all given the swell of him beneath your fingers.

Your eyes widened as you bent your head to look down at your hand. “Jesus Christ, Joel,” you murmured, the awe in your voice making his chest puff with pride. You glanced back up at his face, lips parted as you experimentally stroked him along the entirety of his length.

Joel’s nostrils flared as his eyes closed, pride warming your belly as you repeated the motion. The skin of his cock was overheated and velvet-soft, a quiet moan falling from your lips as you watched his expression twist. Precome leaked down to mix with your spit, the head of his cock flushed–part of you was tempted to ignore the aching between your legs to get your mouth on him.

You weren’t that generous, though.

It took a bit of contortion to line Joel up with you before you were pressing down on him, the two of you gasping in unison at the stretch. There was a twinge of pain, but you were too impatient to let him open you up on his fingers. His hands were iron around your hips, the force of his hold almost bruising.

He could see all of you in the morning light, his eyes tracing up as though he was seeing God for the first time. Joel was mesmerized, watching the bounce of your breasts as you rode him, the slight jiggle of the soft flesh of your thighs and lower belly. Your eyes rolled back in a way that made his heart twist, the roll of your hips making him root deep. 

Your hands pressed against his chest, feeling the long-healed scars by knives as you moaned. Joel’s hands smoothed into the creases of your hips, gripping you tight as he brought you down on his cock, hips fucking up into you.

It took all your focus to stay on top of him, thighs trembling as you dug your knees into the soft mattress. Your breath hitched every time he hit the deepest parts of you, eyes rolling back and mouth lolling open. The pleasure was so overwhelming it was almost painful, making you want to sob above him.

Despite your desperate coupling over the past day, this felt entirely different. This was something new and unknown, your bodies moving together as hot flashes of euphoria drip through your veins. 

Joel was in awe, the feeling of your soaked cunt gripping at him was almost too much to handle as the bed creaked beneath his back. He didn’t even realize how loud the springs were last night, too delirious to care. Each rock of his hips made your body pitch up before he shoved you back down in a dizzying loop that had you both groaning. 

Everything in you tightened as he railed into you, nails digging into his chest as the feeling hooked into you and dragged you toward the undertow. You were at the edge of a cliff, balanced dangerously at the edge of it as you whimpered.

“God, can feel you squeezin’ around me,” he breathed, his voice strangled. He railed into you in a frantic rhythm, brows drawn together as he held you so tight you knew you would be sore.

It only took another one, two, three snaps of Joel’s hips against yours before you fell. You barely were able to catch yourself in time, your orgasm spreading through you like a lighting strike as your muscles convulsed and your cunt spasmed around his cock. He cursed, an arm curling around your back and making your spine arch as he held you against him.

Joel couldn’t get enough of you, the wet squeeze of your cunt felt like a heaven he shouldn’t have been allowed in. He was vaguely aware of his mouth running, your name spilling from his lips as he fucked into you, treating you like a toy for his pleasure as he manipulated your hips.

You took everything he gave you, leaning over him to press your mouth against his. You were moaning against one another, begging in whispers. It didn’t take him long to bring you down onto him and keep you there, teeth gritting and breath stuttering as he pumped you full of him. Joel let out a groan through clenched teeth, sounding like a wounded animal as he forced you into stillness for a few moments before letting go.

The rest was easy, you collapsed onto him as Joel kissed and nosed at your hairline. He scented you where he could, feeling possessive in the aftermath. 

You didn’t talk for some time, communicating through touch as you let bliss keep your bodies bound to bed for a little while longer. But the sun was shining in the sky, the truck bed full of supplies for Jackson occupied the back of your mind as you looked down at Joel, soft and sweet.

“Let’s get going?” you asked, sounding more like a demand than a question. You didn’t know what else to do, lifting your chest from his as the air began to cool your sweat. Your legs were shaking like a colt’s against the floorboards, spend dripping down your legs before you wiped it away with your sweatpants. You would change into jeans for the drive home anyways.

Joel watched you with curious eyes, seeing the way you distanced yourself as you dug through your pack for fresh clothes. He stood, groaning a bit with the effort after spending so long in bed. It was only a few strides to get to you, pressing his body along your back.

“I want to do this your way,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around you and pressing his lips against the crown of your head. “I’ll do whatever you want, just wanna be yours.”

You felt giddy, a smirk quirked the edges of your lips that you tamped down, hands still clutching the sweatshirt and jeans like life preservers. “You mean that?” you asked, leaning back against him. “What if I never let you bite me?”

“Then I won’t bite you,” he said, no hesitation in his voice. He squeezed you once, letting you go and allowing the cold air rush against you once more. “Just think about it, you don’t gotta know now.” 

Joel stamped a kiss along your hairline before leaving the bedroom.

Packing up went quickly, the two of you working in tandem to make sure everything was still bound down and tarped in the back of the truck before clambering in. You watched the cabin disappear in the rearview mirror, already feeling nostalgic as it vanished behind snow-covered pines.

It wasn’t a long drive, maybe five hours if Joel went slow. He was going to go slow, milking every moment he got you all to himself before returning to Jackson. It only took you ten minutes into the drive to slide across the bench seat, lifting his arm to curl beneath it.

“So my way, huh?” you asked, pressing your nose against the canvas jacket he wore. 

Joel chuckled, a victorious grin stretching on his face. “Yeah, your way, baby. You’re in charge.” It felt odd to say, a bit unnatural to give himself to you like that. An alpha bowing to an omega.

You grinned, an arm wrapping around his thick torso and pressing close as he followed the snow-covered road. The landscape sparkled like diamonds, the two of you silent as you didn’t want to break whatever that moment was. 

Unsure of what lay ahead, but excited to find out–knowing it just may be something special.