#alpha beta omega au
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lady-of-the-spirit · 6 months ago
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Omegaverse creators i have a question!!!
If you vote remember to reblog!! For science
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seraphimcestuous · 11 months ago
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Alpha Sera x omega Emily; suggested it to an author once and they wrote it, but I wanna hear your thoughts cause I'm bored and why not
I am very, very picky about my a/b/o dynamics, full disclosure.
I think Sera would, despite being an Alpha, have more stereotypical Omega tendencies - she's the one constantly bringing things for nesting, she's more prone to being anxious.
She is also very, very possessive. She can't scent Emily - not properly, not like Mates, only like Family (which is still Good, but it's not right) - so she's constantly nearby. When she's close to rut, she tries her best not to be obvious but she is SoSo touchy - the same when Emily is close to heat. If Sera does not have her arm around Emily in some way when either of them (or both) are close to their respective cycle, she feels like she's dying.
Adam learned the Hard Way to keep away from them for two days either side. Sera pulled the blow at the last second, realized what she was doing in time, but he came very close to dying at Sera's hands.
Emily basks in the attention - she Loves her sister, Loves her SoSo much and wishes Sera would touch her more in public even when neither of them were close. Yes, she feels safe in the Nest, but nothing compares to the Warmth and Safety and Love of being encased in both Sera's arms and wings.
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fishylife · 1 year ago
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Absolutely LOSING MY MIND!!! Huang Xuan, yes the actor Huang Xuan, found out what A/B/O was and was asked about it in an interview X'D Apparently fans often edit him as an omega but he thinks he's a beta, and hopes to be an alpha. And then the video ended with an example of such a fanvideo of mpreg omega Huang Xuan in a ship with Zhu Yawen X'D
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liuhsng · 1 month ago
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✩ˎˊ˗ between the shelves ( sjy ! ) — part 1
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✩ˎˊ˗ part of the untouchable series | enhypen masterlist
⤷ pairing — jake x fem!reader ⤷ part 1 | part 2 ⤷ word count — 18.7k ⤷ taglist for the series — open ! ⤷ warnings — a/b/o au, foul language, fem!reader, strangers to lovers trope, kinda oblivious!jake, jake is in love-love, tooth-rotting fluff, mentions of the other parts from this series, not proofread
✩ˎˊ˗ summary: as the only son of a prestigious family and the student council secretary, sim jaeyun—or as his friends like to call him: jake has always been at the top. admired, respected, and burdened by responsibility. he’s used to handling everything himself, ensuring perfection in all that he does. and then there was you, someone he had always seen but never had the chance to approach, until fate handed him the opportunity. hiding from relentless admirers, he found himself in the library, where, to his surprise, you weren’t just another passing face. jake has always adored the idea of having a mate, but he never rushed fate, until you. before he knows it, meetings no longer hold his full attention, tasks he once insisted on doing himself are left to others, all so he can be near you.
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A thick, leather-bound book rested in Jake’s hands, the pages filled with intricate Old English that he absorbed with minimal effort. The world outside didn’t exist in this moment. No expectations, no responsibilities, just the quiet hum of silence.
As a pureblooded Alpha born into wealth and status, moments like this were rare, but within the walls of the student council room, he could finally breathe.
His desk bore the title Council Secretary, and his scent of pine and oranges lingered in the air. His instincts, so accustomed to composure, were calm.
Until they weren’t.
The sharp bang of wooden doors slamming open shattered the silence, followed immediately by a heavy thud and the unmistakable sound of someone crashing onto the marble floor. A low growl echoed through the room, spilling through the air like a warning, but it was nothing Jake hadn’t heard before.
He shut his book with an irritated sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Can't even enjoy my mornings because of you mutts.”
Lifting his gaze, he saw Ni-ki sprawled out on the floor, groaning in pain, while Jay towered over him, phone in hand, grinning so wide his sharp canines glinted under the lights.
“That was pathetic,” Jay snickered, snapping another picture of Ni-ki’s crumpled state. “Hold still, I need a better angle.”
“Go to hell,” Ni-ki grumbled, pushing himself up on his elbows, glaring up at Jay like he was debating whether to lunge at him or play dead.
Jake sighed, setting his book down with patience before looking at them both with a deadpan stare. “If you two are done turning the council room into a wrestling ring, get out.”
Jay only grinned wider, slipping his phone into his pocket. “Relax your ass, Sim, we’re just having a little fun.”
Jake arched a brow. “And I was having a little peace. But as always, you two can’t seem to exist without disturbing the entire building.”
Ni-ki groaned again, rolling onto his back with a dramatic sigh. “For the record, I was thrown into the room.”
Jay shrugged. “You were in my way.”
Jake ran a hand through his hair, exhaling. Annoyed but amused, he couldn’t fight the small smile. This was routine, his peace ruined before the day even began. With a sigh, he leaned back. “Where are the others?”
Jay offered a hand to Ni-ki, easily pulling the younger Alpha up with no effort. As he did, he casually answered Jake’s question. “Heeseung, Sunghoon, Sunoo, and Jungwon are with their mates doing God knows what, and yeah, we're here, I guess.” He shot a look at Ni-ki, who was brushing himself off, looking more disgruntled than hurt.
Ni-ki, still in the middle of recovering his pride, added, “Jungwon was asking what you'd like for breakfast too.”
Jake leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers against the polished wood of his desk. He took a second to think, then hummed. “Any sandwich and tea will do.”
Jay raised an eyebrow, a teasing smirk playing at his lips. “So Australian of you.”
Jake rolled his eyes, the smile still there. He couldn’t help it, his friends knew how to get under his skin but also how to make him laugh when he least expected it. “Fuck off,” he said with a laugh.
Jay and Ni-ki grinned before heading to their usual spots, each claiming their own desk within the spacious council room. They sprawled themselves out on the comfortable office chairs, limbs loose and postures unguarded, a contrast to the cold, poised way they carried themselves outside these walls.
Here, there was no need for their masks of control, no need to uphold the weight of their bloodlines with every carefully measured movement.
Jay leaned back, arms behind his head, his smirk fading into something more relaxed. Ni-ki, on the other hand, kicked his feet up on the desk in front of him. There was no need for perfection here, no calculating gazes from the elders who measured their worth in status and tradition.
Jake watched them settle, his fingers still tapping absentmindedly against his desk. It was an unspoken truth between them—this was a place where they weren’t heirs weighed down by the legacies of their families.
Jay let out a long sigh, staring at the ceiling. “So, what’s on the agenda today?” His voice was lazy, but there was curiosity beneath it.
Jake smirked, finally picking up his book again. “Not my problem until the first meeting starts. So, until then, entertain yourselves.” He flipped a page lazily before adding with a chuckle, “Besides, Jungwon’s the one holding it today.”
Jay let out a low whistle. “Poor guy.”
Ni-ki snorted. “He volunteered.”
“Still,” Jay stretched his arms over his head, “it’s cruel of you to let the kid handle all those reports first thing in the morning.”
Jake barely spared him a glance, amusement flickering in his eyes. “He’s the council president. He can handle it.”
Ni-ki hummed in agreement, already reclining further into his chair. “Fair point.”
Their silence was short-lived.
“Babe, I swear it wasn’t me!”
The frantic plea was followed by the sound of hurried footsteps before the doors were slammed open, again.
Sunoo stumbled into the room, half-dragged by Sunghoon’s sister, who had his wrist in an iron grip. Her eyes burned with fury, a stark contrast to Sunoo’s desperate expression as he tried and failed to reason with her.
Behind them, three familiar Omegas rushed in, all trying to calm her down, but their efforts were useless. She wasn’t letting go anytime soon.
The rest of the council members, scattered around the room, barely reacted, other than to smirk at the scene unfolding before them.
Jay leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “Well, this is new. Usually, Sunoo's the one doing the chasing.”
Ni-ki snickered. “What did he even do?”
Sunoo shot them both a panicked look. “I didn't do anything!”
Sunghoon’s sister tightened her grip, making the pink-haired Alpha yelp. “Liar.”
Jake exhaled sharply through his nose, snapping his book shut with a dull thud before pinching the bridge of his nose. “Every damn morning with you people.”
Heeseung, Sunghoon, and Jungwon strolled in, Jungwon balancing a tray of drinks while Heeseung and Sunghoon carried bags of food. Sunghoon placed his down on the table with a lazy smirk. “Yeah, because clearly, I’m the one who forgot her coffee order. Really, Kim?”
Heeseung snorted as he set his own bag down. “Man, you really dug your own grave this time.”
Ni-ki snickered. “Or, y’know, not let your mate plot your downfall first thing in the morning.”
Jake shook his head, leaning back in his chair, already done with the day despite it barely starting. “Someone just make sure they don’t destroy the place before the first meeting.”
Jungwon, the only one actually preparing for said meeting, sighed. “Not my job.”
This was gonna be a long day.
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Jake sat at his desk, his chin propped up on one hand as he lazily flipped through his book. His classroom wasn’t exactly his first choice for a hangout spot, but with an hour to kill before class started, the others had somehow decided it was the perfect place to loiter.
Heeseung and Jay were sprawled on the desks near the window, bickering over something trivial. Sunghoon sat with his arms crossed, seemingly unbothered, while Ni-ki stole Jungwon’s notebook, flipping through it with fake curiosity. Sunoo was slumped in a chair, spinning a pen between his fingers, looking as if he was ready to nap at any second.
The rest of the students in the room? Staring.
Seven pureblooded Alphas gathered in one place was enough to make anyone second-guess their presence. To most, they weren’t just intimidating—they were untouchable. A different breed entirely. Powerful, respected, envied. Gods among the mortals.
Jay stretched, letting out a loud yawn. “Y’know, for a guy who complains about us ruining his peace, you sure don’t kick us out.”
Jake didn’t even glance up from his book. “Because you’d just follow me somewhere else.”
Sunghoon snorted. “He’s got a point.”
Ni-ki, still flipping through Jungwon’s notes, suddenly looked up. “So, what’s the plan? We just sit here and let people gawk at us for the next hour?”
Sunoo groaned, tilting his head back. “Sounds exhausting.”
Jake sighed, shutting his book with a quiet thud. He knew better than to expect a moment of true peace when his friends were involved.
Jungwon tapped his fingers against the desk, glancing at the clock before looking around at the others. “We could go out and eat an early lunch or something.”
Jay, still balanced on the back legs of his chair, stretched his arms over his head. “Tempting, but do I look like I wanna move?”
Heeseung smirked. “Or… we could buy a new car.”
For a second, the room was silent. Then, with zero hesitation, the rest of them hummed in agreement.
“We should,” Sunghoon said, nodding as if it were the most logical idea.
“Yeah,” Ni-ki added, “we definitely should.”
Jake leaned back, unimpressed. “You guys can barely get out of those chairs.”
Sunoo, still twirling his pen between his fingers, shot Jake a lazy grin. “Exactly. We have the money, the connections, the resources… but no energy.”
Jay sighed dramatically, rubbing a hand over his face. “Such is the burden of being rich.”
Jungwon rolled his eyes. “You guys are ridiculous.”
Heeseung ignored him, leaning forward with a glint of amusement in his eyes. “Okay, but if we were actually buying one, what are we thinking? Another sports car? Something imported?”
“I’m feeling a custom build,” Sunghoon mused, pretending to consider the idea.
Jay grinned. “We could each get one.”
“We could,” Ni-ki agreed, nodding sagely.
They all sat there for a second, deep in thought. Not a single one of them moved.
Jake smirked, arms crossed over his chest. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.”
Jungwon shook his head, muttering under his breath before sitting up straighter. “Okay, so lunch?”
Sunoo waved a lazy hand. “Too much effort.”
Jay sighed, finally letting his chair drop back onto all four legs. “Then what? We just sit here and rot?”
“Pretty much,” Sunghoon deadpanned.
Jake, who had been half-listening while flipping through the last few pages of his book, finally closed it with a soft thud. He stretched his arms over his head, rolling out his shoulders. “Well, unlike you guys, I actually have something to do. Gotta return this.”
Jay raised a brow. “You need someone to come with you?”
Jake scoffed, shaking his head. “I’m not like Ni-ki. I can survive a walk to the library alone.”
Ni-ki, who had been aimlessly tapping his fingers against the desk, snapped his head up. “Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?”
Jake just shot him a grin before swiftly making his exit, his laughter echoing down the hallway as the youngest grumbled under his breath.
Jay snickered, nudging Ni-ki with his foot. “You gonna take that?”
Ni-ki huffed, slumping further into his chair. “I’m letting him have his moment. He’s gonna trip on air soon enough, and when he does, I’ll be there.”
Sunghoon smirked. “I’ll pay to see that.”
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Luminous shades of gold bled through the library windows, casting soft halos of light over towering shelves lined with countless books. Dust particles floated lazily in the air, illuminated by the gentle glow, as the faint scent of aged paper and ink settled like a quiet hum in the silence.
Jake’s slow steps echoed against the polished floor, the only sound aside from the occasional page turning or scratch of a pen. Most students were in class, leaving the library nearly empty, just the way he liked it.
With one hand shoved deep into his pocket and the other gripping a newly found book by some historical author he had always meant to read, he allowed himself to get lost in the moment.
His gaze trailed along the rows of shelves, taking in the endless spines of stories and knowledge, before drifting toward the farthest section of the library, where the soft rustling of pages caught his attention.
There was someone else here. You.
Your figure stood among the books, reaching up to return a few to their rightful place. The way your fingers traced the spines, the natural ease in your movements—it was almost mesmerizing. Like you belonged to this place, like the library itself was an extension of you.
His grip on his book tightened. Where had he seen you before?
His gaze lingered on the soft flush of your cheeks, the way your lips, plump and untouched by any trace of worry, parted ever so slightly as you focused on the books in your hands. Everything about you was delicate, and it made something inside him stir.
Jake swallowed, shaking his head as if to clear the sudden haze clouding his thoughts.
His thoughts were interrupted by the soft thud of a book slipping from your hands.
The moment it hit the ground never came; because he was already moving, instincts sharper than his own awareness. His fingers wrapped around the spine just in time, catching it with ease. The world around him blurred, fading into irrelevance as he looked up, only to find you reaching for it at the same time.
Your fingers brushed against his: warm, soft, fleeting. But it was enough. Enough for something to stir deep within him, a current running sharp and fast through his veins. His grip on the book tightened slightly before he forced himself to loosen it, finally handing it back to you.
“Thank you,” you murmured, voice gentle, but it rang through his ears like a bell.
Jake swallowed. Up close, you were even more unreal than he had thought. The golden light framed you like you belonged to another world entirely.
And then, there was your scent.
Honey and seawater. Sweet, but fresh. Familiar yet foreign. It was intoxicating, wrapping around his senses and settling into his lungs like something meant to be there.
His own scent spiked before he could stop it—warm, rich, deep, like oranges and pine, crisp air after rain. Not overpowering, but enough. Enough to see your breath hitch, your lashes flutter as you blinked up at him.
Jake silently thanked the universe at that moment for making him a pureblooded Alpha. Because if he weren’t—if he didn’t have the control, the discipline, the sheer force of will ingrained into his very being, he might’ve done something reckless.
He might’ve stepped closer. Might’ve let himself breathe you in for a second longer. Might’ve said something that would betray the way his entire body was suddenly on high alert, every nerve tuned in to you.
But instead, he did what he did best. He played it off, a lazy smirk curving at the corner of his lips as if this moment hadn’t just turned his world on its axis.
“No problem,” he finally said, voice smooth, calculated.
He made sure his tone was effortless, made sure his expression stayed composed, like his heart wasn’t hammering against his ribs, like his senses weren’t still tangled up in the traces of your scent lingering in the air.
He let his gaze flicker over you one last time before he forced himself to look away, shifting his weight slightly, fingers drumming against the cover of his book as if his entire body wasn’t still hyper-aware of your presence.
You gave him a small nod, your lips curling into a polite smile before turning back to the shelves. And that should’ve been the end of it. That should’ve been his cue to walk away, to let this moment dissolve into nothing more than a short interaction.
But Jake didn’t move.
Instead, he stood there, gripping his book a little too tightly, watching as you reached for another volume on the top shelf, your fingers brushing against the spine with ease. He watched as a stray beam of light caught in your hair, making it glow, as if the sun itself had taken a liking to you. He watched the way your lashes fluttered when you scanned the titles, the way your lips parted slightly in concentration.
And for the first time in a long time, Jake found himself at a complete loss.
He had met hundreds—thousands—of people. He had seen beauty in all forms, had been in the presence of those who were revered, admired, worshipped even. Yet somehow, none of them had ever managed to unravel him like this. None of them had ever made the air feel heavier, had ever made him question if he had truly seen them before, or if they had only existed in the parts of his mind he hadn’t dared explore.
Why did it feel like he should know you?
“You come here often?” The words left his mouth before he could think better of them, and for a second, he almost cringed at himself. He wasn’t that guy. He could do better than that.
You turned to him, one brow raised in mild amusement. “To the library?”
Jake chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, okay, that sounded dumb.”
“A little,” you teased, your lips curving into the softest smile. “But to answer your question, I do. I help here when I have free time.”
Something about that made too much sense. You belonged in a place like this, where everything was calm, where the scent of books and ink lingered in the air, where the golden light spilling through the windows made you look almost ethereal.
“Huh,” Jake mused, nodding.
Your brow furrowed slightly. “Why? You don’t come to the library often?”
“Only when I need to,” he admitted with a smirk. “Or when I’m trying to get away from certain people.”
“Ah,” you nodded knowingly. “So, I’m guessing today is one of those days?”
Jake let out a breathy chuckle. “Something like that.” He tilted his head slightly, curiosity getting the better of him. “What about you? You actually like being here?”
Your gaze softened, trailing over the rows of books surrounding you. “Yeah. It’s quiet. Peaceful.” You glanced back at him, a playful glint in your eyes. “And usually free of distractions.”
Jake placed a hand over his chest, feigning offense. “Ouch. Are you saying I’m a distraction?”
You bit back a laugh. “I didn’t say that.”
“Didn’t have to,” he shot back, his smirk widening.
For a moment, silence settled between you both—not the awkward kind, but something softer, something comfortable. Jake found himself memorizing the way the light reflected in your eyes, the way your fingers brushed against the book in your hands absentmindedly.
Then you tilted your head. “What book is that?”
Jake glanced down at the book he had been gripping this entire time. “Something I just finished.”
“Was it good?”
He studied you for a moment before a teasing glint flickered in his gaze. “Maybe you should borrow it and find out.”
You smirked, crossing your arms. “What if I hate it?”
Jake grinned, tilting his head, eyes glinting with mischief. “Then I’d seriously question your taste in books, and possibly in people.”
You scoffed, rolling your eyes, but you couldn’t help the amused chuckle that escaped. “Wow, so judgmental.”
He shrugged, unbothered. “I have standards.”
You laughed softly, reaching for the book. Your fingers brushed his—warm, electric. Jake’s scent spiked before he could stop it, oranges and pine, rich and inviting.
You didn’t say anything, but you hesitated, your fingers lingering against his for just a fraction longer than necessary. That momentary pause tells him you noticed.
Jake cleared his throat, flexing his fingers slightly before shoving one hand into his pocket. He watched as you flipped open the book, eyes scanning the first few lines. The sunlight filtering through the library windows caught in your hair, giving you an almost ethereal glow. You looked so focused, so at ease, and yet…
There’s something about you that tugs at something buried deep inside him.
“You’re sure we haven’t met before?” he asks, voice quieter this time, like he’s speaking more to himself than to you.
You glance up, brows furrowing slightly. “You seem familiar.” Your voice is careful, as if testing the words. “And not just because you’re the student council secretary.”
Jake watches you closely as you tilt your head, lost in thought.
“I feel like I’ve seen you before,” you continue. “At dinners, at events.” A small sigh escapes you. “But I never really cared to remember the faces or names at those things.”
Something in Jake’s chest tightens.
You weren’t like the others, then. The ones who flaunted their family names, who cared too much about appearances, about impressing the right people. You were rich, sure, but you didn’t let it define you.
And somehow, that made you even more intriguing. A slow smirk tugs at the corner of Jake’s lips. “Ouch.”
You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. “Don’t take it personally. I just never cared about those social circles.”
Jake hums in amusement. “And yet, here we are.”
You arch a brow. “And yet, here we are.”
Jake’s gaze flickers to the book cart beside you, filled with stacks waiting to be returned to their proper places. He tilts his head, considering, then gestures toward it.
“Mind if I help?”
You blink, caught off guard. “You?”
He raises an eyebrow. “What? Think I’m incapable of putting books on a shelf?”
You huff out a small laugh. “I just figured you’d have a class to get to. Or a meeting.”
Jake leans casually against the cart, hands in his pockets, looking completely unbothered. “My classes don’t even start for at least forty minutes or so.” His lips curl into that signature, lazy grin. “Plenty of time to lend a hand.”
You narrow your eyes playfully. “And why exactly would the student council secretary want to waste his free time stacking books?”
His grin widens. “Maybe I just like the company.”
You roll your eyes, turning to grab a book from the cart, but before you can, Jake leans in slightly, dropping his voice just enough to make you pause.
“Or,” he teases, “are you saying you don’t want a big, strong Alpha helping you?”
You let out a giggle, shaking your head. “Oh, please.”
Jake smirks. “That wasn’t a no.”
You shake your head again, amused, and hand him a book. “Fine, Secretary Sim. Let’s see if you actually know your way around a library.”
He takes it from you with an exaggerated air of confidence. “Prepare to be impressed.”
And just like that, minutes pass, time slipping through your fingers like sand as you and Jake move through the towering shelves, placing books where they belong. What started as a simple task quickly turns into something else entirely, something lighter.
You are nothing but a giggling fit as the pureblooded Alpha standing just a few inches from you recounts stories from his childhood. For someone who always seemed so put-together, so composed, seeing this side of him; one filled with sighs and boyish grins as he talks about his past—it was unexpectedly charming.
“So let me get this straight,” you say, biting back another laugh as you slide a book onto the shelf. “You cried because your tutor forced you to read Alice in Wonderland?”
Jake groans dramatically, running a hand down his face. “I was like… six, okay? And I didn’t just cry—I threw the book.”
You gasp, covering your mouth in mock horror. “The abuse!”
He snorts, shaking his head. “It was self-defense. I thought it was gonna be some fun story about a girl going on an adventure, but it made no sense.”
You stifle a laugh as he leans against the shelf beside you, watching your expression with a knowing smirk. “You think it’s funny?”
You nod, grinning. “It is funny. What kind of kid throws a tantrum over Alice in Wonderland?”
“The kind who got locked in a study room for hours and told he wasn’t leaving until he finished the chapter,” he says, deadpan.
At that, you burst into quiet laughter, shaking your head. “So what changed? You seem pretty into books now.”
Jake exhales, rolling a book between his hands. “Honestly? After that, I refused to read anything for a while. But my mom, she wasn’t having it. She started giving me books that actually interested me. Stories about history, people, real things. And eventually… I don’t know. I got used to it. Liked it, even.”
His voice softens slightly, a hint of sincerity slipping through his usual teasing tone. It makes you pause, watching him a little more closely.
“Guess I should thank my stubborn tutor,” he adds with a lopsided smile. “Even if Alice in Wonderland still haunts me to this day.”
You shake your head, grinning. “Noted. No Wonderland-themed gifts for you.”
Jake chuckles, his gaze lingering on you for just a second too long. Then, with a playful nudge of your shoulder, he steps back, grabbing another book from the cart.
He glances down at the watch strapped to his wrist, and his chest tightens when he sees the time—only ten minutes left before his next class. He exhales through his nose, shoulders dropping slightly.
Why did it feel so heavy to leave? It wasn’t like he wasn’t coming back. It wasn’t like this was the last time he’d see you. But something about walking away now, after all the laughter, after the ease that settled between you both, made his steps feel weighted.
He sets the book down on the cart, rubbing the back of his neck before finally looking at you. “Guess I should get going,” he mutters, not moving just yet.
You tilt your head, a soft, knowing smile gracing your lips. “Duty calls, huh?”
Jake chuckles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah. Something like that.”
There’s a second of silence, and he shifts on his feet, reluctant. He knows he should go, his class isn’t going to wait for him—but there's something holding him in place, like an invisible thread still tying him to this moment, to you.
His fingers tap against the side of his thigh, his weight shifting slightly. Then, before he can think twice about it, he blurts out, “You know… I never got your name.”
It’s a poor excuse to stay a little longer, but it’s the truth. He’s heard people mention you before, seen you in passing at events or around school—always just another face in a sea of familiarity. But here, now, under the warm glow of the library, he realizes that knowing of you isn’t the same as knowing you.
And he wants to.
Your eyebrows lift slightly, caught off guard by the sudden shift. Then, as if humoring him, you tilt your head, an amused glint in your eyes.
“You mean to tell me you, Sim Jaeyun—Jake, student council secretary—know the names of half the student body but not mine?” you tease lightly, arms crossing over your chest.
Jake scoffs, crossing his own arms in response, mirroring your stance. “Hey, in my defense, most people introduce themselves to me first,” he says, a smirk tugging at his lips. “You, on the other hand, just threw books at me and insulted my childhood trauma.”
You laugh, shaking your head. “Fine, fine.” You unfold your arms, watching him for a moment before finally saying, “(Y/N). (Y/N) (L/N).”
And that’s it. That’s all it takes.
He just knows he looks stupid right now. Like some love-struck idiot with a boyish grin plastered across his face. But he can’t help it.
Your name fits. It rolls through his mind so easily, as if he’s always known it.
“(Y/N),” he repeats, testing how it feels on his tongue. Yeah. He likes it.
Before he can embarrass himself any further, he takes a step back, pointing lazily at the book still on top of the cart. “Don’t forget to let me know if you hate it,” he teases, a smirk playing at his lips.
You roll your eyes but wave him off with an amused shake of your head.
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The brunette Alpha stood at the front of the room, hands in his pockets, the glow of the projector casting sharp shadows across his face.
Another council meeting was in full swing, and the proposal was displayed on the screen behind him—an extensive, well-structured plan covering student initiatives for the next few months. His voice was steady as he spoke.
“As you can see, the proposed projects align with last year’s data on student participation rates. The revisions focus on accessibility, budget efficiency, and—”
A voice interrupted.
“How are you sure this is actually in line with what the student body wants?”
Jake’s sentence cut off. His head tilted slightly, eyes flickering toward the source of the comment—a Beta seated a few rows back, arms crossed, expression laced with casual arrogance.
Silence settled over the room.
Jake didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he exhaled through his nose, his fingers curling slightly before flexing out again.
Then, he let out a quiet scoff. The kind that wasn’t amused. The kind that sent tension through the air.
The Beta shifted in his seat, but Jake only raised a brow, taking his time before speaking.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice calm. Too calm. “Did I just spend the last ten minutes breaking down survey data, feedback percentages, and budget adjustments for you to sit there and ask that?”
The Beta blinked.
Jake took a step forward, slowly, hands still in his pockets. “Tell me, do you think I’m just making things up? You think I’m sitting in my room, pulling numbers out of my ass for fun?” His voice was smooth, but the sharpness beneath it was unmistakable.
The room was deathly quiet now.
The Beta’s smirk wavered, but he pushed back. “I just think we should consider if—”
Jake cut him off. “No, see, I actually consider things. That’s why I have reports—real student responses—right here.” He tapped the remote, switching the slide. Pages of survey results filled the screen. “Meanwhile, you’re just speculating.”
Silence.
Jake’s gaze was cold. The Beta looked away.
“Thought so,” Jake muttered, clicking to the next slide as if nothing had happened. “Now, moving on.”
The tension still hung thick in the air, but somewhere near the front, Heeseung and Sunghoon exchanged a look—one of amusement, a smirk tugging at the corners of their lips.
Heeseung let out a quiet chuckle under his breath, barely audible over the sound of the projector clicking to the next slide. Sunghoon bit the inside of his cheek to keep from outright grinning.
“Damn,” Heeseung muttered low enough for only those nearby to hear.
Sunghoon, resting his chin lazily against his palm, whispered back, “Should’ve kept his mouth shut.”
The Beta had noticeably shrunk in his seat, his earlier arrogance dissolving under Jake’s scrutiny. His grip tightened around his pen, eyes fixed anywhere but on the secretary at the front of the room.
From the side, Sunoo barely spared him a glance before mumbling, “Serves him right.”
Jake, meanwhile, acted as though nothing had happened, his expression schooled back into indifference. He clicked through another slide, eyes skimming over the proposal details.
Ni-ki and Jay, seated near the back, exchanged glances before grinning. Without a word, Ni-ki held up a fist, and Jay bumped his against it—the silent gesture between them going unnoticed by most.
Well, almost unnoticed.
Jungwon, ever the responsible president, was supposed to be the professional one—the peacemaker. He was meant to keep the meetings under control, not laugh in moments like this. But, really, this was what happened when people tried to provoke them.
Despite knowing better, Jungwon let out a quiet snicker, only to quickly disguise it with a cough, covering his mouth as if clearing his throat. The movement was poorly timed, though, and Sunoo shot him an unimpressed look while Heeseung outright smirked.
Jake, standing at the front, didn’t acknowledge any of it, his attention seemingly fixed on the presentation—but the sharp flicker of amusement in his eyes betrayed him.
“As I was saying before we decided to entertain baseless accusations,” Jake continued smoothly, clicking through another slide, “the budget allocations for each committee have been balanced accordingly. If anyone has actual concerns that don’t involve unnecessary questioning of my ability to read statistics, now would be the time to raise them.”
Silence.
Jungwon pressed his fist against his mouth, eyes crinkling as he fought the urge to laugh again.
Jake exhaled sharply through his nose, rolling his shoulders back before giving a curt nod.
“That’s all for today,” he hummed, voice smooth yet edged with the remnants of his earlier irritation. He didn’t bother with any closing remarks or pleasantries, simply gathering his things with efficiency. His movements were controlled—yet the way he shut his notebook with just a little too much force gave him away.
The second the meeting ended, he was gone. No lingering, no small talk, just a brisk exit, bag slung over his shoulder.
His steps were quick, the grand library doors already in sight, the one place no one would dare follow him.
But just as he turned the corner, voices caught his attention.
“Oh! Jake’s free now, should we go talk to him?”
“He always leaves so quickly after meetings… maybe today’s our chance?”
Jake cursed under his breath.
A group of Omegas stood a few feet away, clearly debating the best way to approach him. He didn’t have the patience for this. Not today. He wasn’t in the right mindset to deal with hopeful smiles or small talk.
More importantly, he didn’t trust himself not to accidentally snap. The last thing he needed was to ruin someone’s day just because he was still irritated from some idiotic remark earlier.
And, god forbid, if someone tried to confess their feelings today, he might actually combust.
He quickened his pace, reaching the library doors just before anyone could call his name. Slipping inside, he shut them behind him with a soft thud, muting the distant voices that nearly caught him.
The Alpha took a breath.
The library was cool, quiet—the perfect escape. His sharp eyes scanned the room, quickly bypassing the open tables and the front desk. He didn’t want to risk being found. Instead, he made a beeline for the very back, where towering bookshelves created a maze of hidden seats.
There, near the last row, he found what he was looking for—a section with oversized shelves, their positioning just awkward enough to create a hidden space. It wasn’t a proper seating area, more like a forbidden section of the library, where students occasionally hid when they wanted to avoid the world.
Perfect.
Jake slipped into the small space, sinking onto the cushioned seat against the back wall. The moment he was out of sight, he let his head rest against the wood, eyes briefly shutting.
Finally. No interruptions. No stupid questions. No unwanted attention. Just silence.
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Jake had been there for a while now, longer than he intended, but time always moved differently in the library. The quiet had done little to fully rid him of his earlier frustration, but at least it kept him from doing something he’d regret.
A book rested in his hands, something he had picked up absentmindedly from the shelf near his hiding spot. He wasn’t even sure what it was about, but flipping through the pages had given him something to do.
His fingers hovered over the corner of the page, ready to turn it, when he heard it—soft footsteps approaching, barely audible against the carpeted floors.
Jake tensed.
He wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone. If it was one of his friends coming to tease him, or worse, someone trying to get his attention for another pointless conversation, he was going to—
But then the scent of honey and seawater hit him.
It was soft, familiar, cutting through his frustration like a breath of fresh air. Unlike the overwhelming scents he had escaped, this one simply existed, wrapping around him until his grip on the book loosened.
Then, your voice followed. “Are you okay?”
Jake froze.
Your voice was gentle, laced with concern. Not prying, but still searching. And suddenly, whatever sharp retort he had been about to throw out died in his throat.
His annoyance didn’t seem so important anymore.
Jake swallowed, his lips parting slightly, but no words came out at first. It wasn’t like him to be at a loss for words—not in meetings, not in arguments, not even when he was annoyed. But something about you being here, standing so close, made all the tension he had been carrying shift into something else.
Slowly, he lowered the book, tilting his head just enough to meet your gaze. Your expression was soft, brows slightly drawn together, not with curiosity, but with something gentler. You weren’t here to pry or gossip. You just… cared. And suddenly, his frustration felt almost childish.
“I…” he stopped himself, exhaling sharply through his nose.
He wanted to say he was fine, that it was nothing, that it was just another stupid meeting with people who didn’t know how to keep their mouths shut.
But the words didn’t come out.
Instead, Jake leaned back against the loveseat, gaze flickering to the pages of his book as if searching for an answer.
You didn’t press him. You didn’t demand an explanation or scold him for running off like his friends probably would have. You just stood there, waiting.
And for some reason, that made him want to answer.
“I just needed some space,” he muttered eventually, his voice quieter than usual, lacking its usual sharpness. He rubbed the back of his neck, finally meeting your eyes again. “Didn’t feel like dealing with anyone.”
You hummed, stepping closer. The scent of you made the last of his annoyance settle into something easier to manage.
“I figured,” you said softly. “You looked upset earlier.”
Jake’s brows lifted slightly, surprised that you had noticed. His friends might’ve caught on, but most people weren’t perceptive enough to see through his carefully crafted walls. Yet, you had.
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Some beta tried challenging me mid-meeting,” he muttered, irritation creeping in before he caught himself. Shaking his head, he added, “Doesn’t matter anymore.”
Silence settled between you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable.
Jake found himself watching you instead—how you shifted slightly on your feet, how your fingers curled at your sides as if debating whether or not to reach out. The thought made something in his chest tighten unexpectedly.
Then, after a moment, you spoke again.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Jake let out a quiet laugh, not mocking, but almost… grateful. He shook his head, a small, tired smile tugging at his lips. “Nah,” he said, closing the book in his hands. “But… I don’t mind staying here for a while.”
His voice was quieter now, almost hesitant, but the way your face softened told him you understood.
You hesitated before shifting your weight slightly. “Can I sit?”
Jake blinked, surprised by the question, then nodded, maybe a little too eagerly. Clearing his throat, he schooled his expression back to neutral and gestured to the spot beside him. “Yeah, of course.”
You settled down next to him, the space between you small but not suffocating. Close enough that he could feel your warmth, but not close enough to be overwhelming.
Jake exhaled slowly, feeling the last remnants of his frustration loosen in his chest. The meeting, the irritation, the unwanted attention from his admirers, it all seemed a little less important now.
For a while, neither of you spoke. The only sounds were the distant rustling of pages and the occasional creak of a chair as someone moved in the main area of the library. But here, hidden away behind the tall shelves, it felt like a world apart.
His fingers idly traced the book’s cover, though he wasn’t really reading. Instead, he was hyper-aware of your knee barely brushing his, your scent lingering; unexpectedly soothing.
“You always come here when you need space?” you asked after a moment, your voice soft, curious but not prying.
Jake tilted his head slightly, considering. “Not always,” he admitted. “But it’s quiet. And no one really thinks to look for me back here.” He huffed a quiet laugh. “Except you, apparently.”
You smiled, nudging his arm lightly. “I had a feeling.”
The pureblooded Alpha found himself smiling back—a real one this time. Not forced, not out of politeness, but something small and genuine.
Jake eased back against the wall, shoulders finally relaxing. His fingers tapped absently on the book’s spine, but he wasn’t reading, not when your presence felt more real than the words on the page.
“You know, you always seem to know where to find me,” he mused, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.
You shrugged, tilting your head slightly. “Maybe I just know you better than most, even if I just met you.”
The words settled between you both—not heavy, not awkward, just honest. Jake felt something unfamiliar stir in his chest, something warm.
He studied you for a second longer before shaking his head with a soft chuckle. “Scary thought.”
You rolled your eyes playfully. “Oh, please. You’re not that complicated.”
Jake hummed, amused, but didn’t argue. Instead, he let the silence stretch again, though this time, it felt different—more comfortable. The frustration from earlier had nearly faded entirely, replaced by something far less sharp.
After a moment, you reached over, tapping your fingers lightly against the edge of his book. “So, what are you reading?”
Jake glanced down, suddenly remembering he was even holding something. He flipped the book in his hands absentmindedly before handing it over to you. “Something I grabbed off the shelf. Wasn’t really paying attention.”
You took it, skimming the cover. “Mmh, seems interesting.”
Jake scoffed lightly. “You didn’t even read anything yet.”
You grinned. “I have good intuition.”
Jake shook his head, but the amusement lingered in his eyes. He watched as you scanned the cover, the way your brows furrowed slightly in concentration. He didn’t know why, but the sight of you so focused on something so simple made his chest tighten.
He looked away, clearing his throat. “You can borrow it if you want.”
You glanced up at him, lips twitching in the beginnings of a smile. “You sure? I thought you came here to read.”
Jake exhaled a short laugh, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, well…” He trailed off, gaze flickering to yours before looking away just as quickly. “I think I found something better to focus on.”
The words left his mouth before he could really think about them, and Jake nearly winced at himself. But then you laughed, soft and light—and the tension in his shoulders eased.
You nudged him again, a touch more lingering this time. “Flatterer.”
Jake smirked. “Just saying.”
You tapped your fingers against the book’s spine, tilting your head slightly as you considered something. Then, with an easy smile, you turned to Jake.
“Wanna read it together?”
Jake blinked, caught off guard. “Together?”
You nodded, flipping the book open and patting the space between you both. “Yeah. You said you weren’t really paying attention when you picked it, right? So why not give it a proper chance?”
Jake hesitated for a second, then exhaled through his nose, a soft chuckle slipping past his lips. “You really don’t take no for an answer, do you?”
You grinned. “Not when I know it’s a good idea.”
Shaking his head, Jake shifted slightly, leaning in just enough so he could read over your shoulder as you settled into the first few pages. The closeness wasn’t something he was used to—at least, not like this. It wasn’t suffocating. Instead, it felt warm, your scent wrapping around him in a way that slowly untangled the tension from his limbs.
For a few minutes, the only sound between you both was the quiet rustle of pages turning. Then—
“Oh my god,” you murmured, biting back a laugh.
Jake glanced at you, brow furrowed. “What?”
You pointed at a line of dialogue, barely able to hold in your giggle. “My love for you burns like the eternal sun, scorching and unyielding in its devotion.”
You turned to him, eyes sparkling with amusement. “Scorching and unyielding?”
Jake groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “I knew I picked up something weird.”
You nudged him playfully. “No, no, this is great. Keep reading.”
Jake huffed but followed along as you continued. Another dramatic line came up, something about hearts entwining like ivy around stone, and you couldn’t stop yourself from giggling again.
“You’re laughing,” Jake accused, though his tone was more fond than annoyed.
You nodded, grinning. “Because this is so overly dramatic. Do people actually talk like this?”
Jake smirked, flipping the page. “Maybe in, like, the 1800s.”
You snorted, shaking your head. “I don’t know, Jake. I think you should take notes. Maybe next time you wanna woo an Omega, try saying, ‘My devotion to you is like the tides, endless and drawn to the moon’s call.’”
Jake nearly choked. “Absolutely not.”
Your laughter echoed softly through the library’s quiet corners, warm and easy. Jake grinned despite himself, the bitterness in his scent from earlier fading entirely, replaced by something softer, warm oranges and fresh pine, subtle but there.
You inhaled lightly, the change making your chest flutter just a bit. Without thinking, you smiled.
Jake noticed.
His gaze flickered to you, curiosity glinting in his eyes. “What?”
You shook your head, still smiling. “Nothing.”
Jake wasn’t convinced, but he didn’t push. Instead, he let the moment settle, let the warmth of your laughter and the ridiculous book between you both fill the space.
“Alright,” he sighed dramatically, flipping another page. “Let’s see just how much worse this gets.”
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For a while, you read in silence, the occasional rustle of a page the only sound. The library's soft glow wrapped your hidden corner in warmth, making it feel even more secluded, like the rest of the world had melted away, leaving just the two of you.
Jake found himself enjoying the book despite its overly dramatic writing, maybe because you were reading it too. Your amused huffs and quiet comments made it more entertaining than it should have been. But after a while, he noticed something.
You had grown quiet.
Too quiet.
Jake subtly glanced at you from the corner of his eye, lips twitching when he realized what was happening. Your blinks were getting slower, your posture more relaxed, and the way your fingers had stopped fidgeting with the edge of the page told him—without a doubt—you were dozing off.
He let out a breathless chuckle, barely a sound, shaking his head. You really do have a way of catching me off guard, huh?
For a moment, he debated waking you, but something about the peaceful look on your face stopped him. Instead, Jake hesitated for only a second before moving carefully.
With the gentleness only a pureblooded Alpha raised on traditional etiquette could have, he shifted ever so slightly, angling his shoulder toward you. Then, just as lightly, he guided your head to rest against him.
You stirred for the briefest moment, instinctively snuggling a little closer to his side.
Jake immediately froze. His whole body tensed.
His heart skipped a beat.
It was ridiculous, but the warmth of you against him, the way your scent wrapped around him so effortlessly, made his thoughts stumble.
He swallowed, exhaling slowly through his nose, trying to will away the sudden tightness in his chest. This is fine. It’s nothing.
You were just tired. And he was just being considerate. That’s what an Alpha was supposed to do, right? Protect, provide comfort, ensure safety.
So why did it feel like something far more intimate?
He swallowed, forcing himself to focus on the book still open in his lap. The words blurred slightly as his mind reeled, but he kept reading anyway, if only to distract himself from the fact that you were resting against him, trusting him enough to do so.
Outside, the library remained as quiet as ever. The world carried on.
But for Jake, sitting there in the dim light, your soft breathing evening out against his side, something shifted.
And he wasn’t sure he could ever shift it back.
Your breath was steady, your warmth pressed lightly against him, and for a moment, Jake thought you had fully drifted off.
But then, just as he was about to return his attention to the book, you stirred slightly, shifting against his side.
Your voice, quiet and laced with sleep, barely broke the hush of the library.
"Wake me up in fifteen minutes?"
You mumbled the words, your voice slurring just the tiniest bit.
Jake stilled.
He looked down at you, watching as your eyelashes fluttered against your cheek, your breathing slow and deep. The way you said it—so trusting, so unguarded—made something warm unfurl in his chest.
He exhaled softly, barely above a whisper, but there was no mistaking the tenderness in his voice when he responded.
"Sure, omega. Sure."
It was the softest he had ever spoken. The gentlest he had ever let himself be.
Jake didn’t know if you heard it, if your drowsy mind even registered the way his voice had dipped into something almost tame.
But he didn’t care.
Because as you let out a content sigh, sinking just a little bit further into his side, he knew one thing for certain—
Fifteen minutes wouldn't be enough.
The library stayed still, the only sound a distant rustle of pages. Late afternoon light streamed through tall windows, casting a warm glow over your hidden corner.
Jake, who had only meant to let you rest for fifteen minutes, had somehow drifted off himself.
His breathing was even, his frame relaxed, and without realizing it, he had shifted closer. His head had dipped, resting atop yours, while your body had curled just slightly into his side.
The scent of oranges and pine surrounded you, warmer now, softened by sleep, no longer laced with the bitterness from earlier.
For the first time that day, everything felt at peace.
Until your eyelids fluttered open.
You blinked slowly, your body still heavy with sleep. The warmth against you registered first, followed by the weight on your head. It took your drowsy mind a moment to process that Jake had fallen asleep, too—that you had both somehow ended up nestled against each other.
Your cheeks warmed instantly.
Careful not to wake him, you shifted, his uniform brushing against your skin. Slowly, you reached into your skirt pocket, fingers curling around your phone. You turned the screen on—
And immediately panicked.
You had overslept.
By an hour.
Your breath hitched, and you nearly jolted upright, but Jake stirred at the movement, a quiet sigh leaving his lips.
You froze.
His head shifted slightly against yours before settling once more, his arm now loosely resting against your side, as if unconsciously keeping you in place.
Your heart was practically in your throat.
You should wake him up. You needed to wake him up.
You hesitated, phone still clutched in your hand as you weighed your options.
Jake was still fast asleep, his breathing slow and steady, completely at ease for the first time all day.
Something about that made you pause.
Carefully, despite the awkward angle, you tilted your head up just slightly—just enough to get a proper look at him.
And for a moment, you forgot how to breathe.
Up close, he looked softer, more serene than the composed, ever-efficient student council secretary he always presented himself as. His brows, usually furrowed in focus, were relaxed. His long lashes rested gently against his skin, and his lips, often pressed into a firm line, were now slightly parted.
Even his scent of warm oranges and fresh pine seemed calmer now, no longer edged with irritation or exhaustion.
You swallowed, feeling your heart skip a beat.
Jake had always been handsome, but there was something about seeing him like this, unguarded, peaceful—that made your stomach twist in a way you didn’t quite know how to handle.
The logical part of you knew you had to wake him up. It was already late, and staying like this any longer would only make things worse.
But a part of you, the part that wasn’t ready to let go of this warmth just yet, hesitated.
He just looked so�� at peace.
Yet you let out a soft sigh before gently nudging his shoulder. “Jake,” you murmured, voice hushed in the quiet of the library.
He stirred slightly, a low hum escaping him as his lashes fluttered, struggling against the remnants of sleep. His brows furrowed, and he shifted, blinking a few times as if trying to register where he was.
Then, his body tensed.
The realization of just how close you were hit him all at once—your warmth pressed against his side, your head resting against his shoulder, his own head tilted atop yours. His breath hitched as he sat up slightly, eyes widening.
“S—Sorry,” he stammered, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t—I mean, I didn’t mean to—”
You waved a hand, amused. “It’s fine. You looked like you needed that rest.”
Jake blinked, processing your words before exhaling, ruffling his already tousled hair. “Shit… What time is it?”
“Almost six,” you replied, stretching slightly.
His eyes widened slightly as he ran a hand through his hair again, the weight of lost time settling in. “Shit. Did I keep you in here? Don’t you have anything to do?”
You shook your head. “No, there’s a different student covering the night shift," you explained. “Library closes at eight anyway.”
Jake hummed in acknowledgment, but then you sighed, leaning back slightly.
“Great,” you muttered sarcastically.
Jake frowned. “What?”
You huffed. “I have no one to pick me up.”
Jake blinked at you for a moment before tilting his head, expression unreadable. “Huh?”
He didn’t say anything at first, just studying you, but there was something about the way his gaze lingered.
The Alpha tilted his head slightly, brows furrowing in confusion. “Wait, why don’t you just drive?”
You blinked at him before letting out a small laugh, shaking your head. “My car isn't here.”
Jake still looked puzzled. “Don’t you have a driver?”
You sighed, leaning back against the loveseat. “It’s my designated driver’s day off,” you explained. “So, I had to hitch a ride with a friend this morning.”
Jake hummed, nodding slowly, but when you casually mentioned her name, his eyes flickered with surprise.
“Oh,” he said, blinking. “You’re friends with Heeseung’s mate?”
You nodded with a small smile, amused by the way his expression changed, like he was processing that information and filing it away for later. “Yeah,” you replied. “We’ve been close for a while.”
Jake let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head slightly. “Huh. Small world.”
“You sound surprised,” you teased, raising a brow at him.
He shrugged, a ghost of a smirk playing at his lips. “I mean, kind of? I just didn’t expect it, that’s all.”
“Why?” you asked, tilting your head.
Jake scratched the back of his neck. “I don’t know," he admitted. “It’s just—Heeseung’s mate is usually around him or the others. I’ve never really seen her with you.”
You grinned. “That’s because we hang out outside of school.”
Jake let out an amused huff. “Figures.” He leaned back against the bookshelf, arms crossed. “So, you really have no way of getting home?”
You sighed dramatically, resting your head against the back of the loveseat. “Nope. Stuck here until I figure something out.”
Jake clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “That’s great,” he muttered, his tone laced with sarcasm.
“Right?” you replied, just as sarcastically. “Super great. Love this for me.”
Jake shifted in his seat, hesitating for a moment. You watched as his fingers tapped idly against his arm, his lips pressing into a thin line like he was debating something in his head.
Then, finally, he sighed through his nose and ran a hand through his hair. “I could drive you,” he said, but there was an unusual softness to his voice, like he was testing the waters.
You blinked up at him, caught slightly off guard. “You?”
“Yeah,” he said, but he looked like he was second-guessing himself. “I mean—only if you’re okay with that. If you’d rather call someone else or wait, that’s fine, too.” He shrugged, aiming for nonchalance, but the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes gave him away. “I just figured… it’d be better than being stuck here.”
You hesitated, not because you didn’t want to accept, but because he looked unsure, like he wanted to help but didn’t want to overstep.
A small smile tugged at your lips as you shook your head. “No, I mean—if you’re offering, I won’t say no.”
Jake exhaled, something in his posture easing at your words. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” you confirmed. “That would actually be really helpful.”
His lips quirked up slightly, and he nodded. “Alright. Let’s get out of here, then.”
Jake stood up from the leather loveseat, stretching his arms slightly before turning to you with a playful glint in his eyes. With an exaggerated gesture, he extended his hand toward you, palm up, and dipped his head slightly.
“After you, (Y/N)—the ever-so-pretty Omega,” he teased, his voice dripping with mock formality.
You laughed, rolling your eyes but still taking his hand as you played along. “Why, thank you, my kind Alpha," you replied, matching his tone with an amused smirk.
As your fingers briefly brushed against his, Jake let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. “You’re something else,” he muttered, but there was no bite to his words—only a quiet fondness he wasn’t sure he was ready to acknowledge yet.
As you both stepped outside the hidden reading nook, the warm glow of the setting sun filtered through the library windows. The golden light painted long shadows across the floor, making the whole place feel even more serene.
Just as you reached the front doors, you suddenly stopped and turned to Jake. “Wait here for a second,” you told him, motioning for him to stay put.
Jake furrowed his brows. “Where are you going?”
You pointed toward the reception desk. “I need to grab my bag. I’ll be quick.”
He nodded, leaning casually against the doorframe as he watched you jog over. You made your way to the desk, where the student taking over the night shift was already setting up for her hours ahead. She glanced up as you approached, blinking in surprise before a teasing grin spread across her face.
“So… you and Jake, huh?” she mused, raising a knowing brow as she handed you your bag.
You blinked before letting out a laugh, waving a hand dismissively. “Oh, please,” you scoffed. “It’s not like that.”
She hummed, clearly unconvinced. “Uh-huh. Sure. You do know he’s waiting for you by the door like a damn gentleman, right? That’s Alpha behavior if I’ve ever seen it.”
You rolled your eyes, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “He’s just giving me a ride home. That’s all.”
She smirked, resting her chin on her palm. “Mhm. And I’m just a regular student who doesn’t notice things.”
Shaking your head, you turned away, laughing under your breath. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” you called over your shoulder.
“Tell Jake I said hi,” she teased back, making you shake your head again with a smile as you returned to the entrance.
Jake glanced at you as you rejoined him. “Took you long enough,” he said, though there was no actual bite to his tone.
You rolled your eyes playfully. “Patience, Jake.”
He scoffed, but then reached out, tugging your bag off your shoulder before you could react. “Here, let me.”
You blinked at him. “Jake, I can carry my own bag.”
“I know,” he said easily, slinging it over his own shoulder like it weighed nothing. “But I want to.”
He pushed open the library doors with a smirk. “Let’s get going.”
You only grinned, stepping outside beside him, the air crisp as the last remnants of daylight clung to the sky.
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The car ride home was comfortable, the kind of quiet that wasn’t awkward, just easy. The city lights flickered past as the sky deepened into shades of navy, the last traces of sunset fading beyond the horizon.
You sat snugly in the passenger seat, curled slightly toward Jake as he drove with practiced ease, one hand on the wheel, the other resting casually near the gear shift.
“So, mate,” you said, attempting your best Australian accent, dragging the word out obnoxiously. “Where we headin’, aye?”
Jake nearly choked on his laughter. “Oh my god, what was that?”
“My perfect Aussie impression,” you grinned.
He shot you a look, lips twitching. “That was a crime against my entire country.”
“Oi,” you protested, making your voice deeper. “That’s offensive, innit?”
Jake shook his head, amused. “Now you just sound British.”
You burst into laughter, the sound filling the car. Jake just grinned, shaking his head as he made a turn.
“Take a left up here,” you directed, still giggling.
He followed without question, and as the road stretched out before you, the surroundings became quieter, lined with trees and distant estate homes. Soon, large iron gates loomed ahead.
Jake whistled lowly. “Fancy.”
You snorted, shooting him a look before gesturing around the car’s sleek interior. “Oh, please. Stop acting like you’re not used to the same lifestyle.”
Jake smirked, drumming his fingers against the wheel. “Okay, fair point,” he admitted. “But you have to admit, this is some next-level rich.”
You rolled your eyes playfully. “Says the guy driving a literal sports car.”
Jake chuckled, tapping the wheel. “Touché.”
The soft purr of the engine filled the space as the car eased forward, headlights illuminating the long road ahead. Soon, the massive gates loomed before you, standing tall and pristine under the dimming sky.
Jake took it in, lips quirking. “Still fancy.”
You hummed, reaching for the intercom, but at the last second, an idea sparked. You smirked and leaned back. “You do it.”
Jake raised a brow. “Me?”
You nodded, barely holding back a grin. “Just say… special delivery.”
He gave you a look, but the amusement in his eyes was unmistakable. With a small shake of his head, he rolled down the window and pressed the call button. A second later, a static click sounded.
“Special delivery,” Jake said smoothly, voice rich with amusement.
There was a brief pause—then, with a soft beep, the gates creaked open.
You burst out laughing, leaning back in your seat. Jake just shook his head as he pulled forward, a chuckle slipping past his lips.
“I don’t know what’s worse,” he mused. “That it actually worked or that you set me up for it.”
“You just have that kind of voice,” you teased, still grinning.
Jake smirked, flicking his gaze toward you. “Oh yeah? You like my voice that much?”
You groaned, reaching over to shove his arm. “Drive, Sim.”
As the gates opened fully, Jake eased the car forward, and the moment you passed through, the estate unfolded before him like something straight out of a movie.
The long driveway was paved with smooth cobblestone, flanked by lush, towering trees that cast intricate shadows beneath the soft glow of vintage-style street lamps.
Vibrant flower beds lined the path, a carefully curated mix of imported and native flora blooming in perfect harmony. The air smelled fresh, carried by the evening breeze.
Jake let out a low whistle as he took in the sight, his fingers drumming against the wheel. “Alright, I take it back. This is next-level rich.”
You smirked, watching his expression shift as you approached the heart of the estate. “Mhmm.”
The trees eventually gave way to a pristine white mansion that stood tall against the twilight sky. The grand structure was illuminated by soft golden lights, casting a warm glow against the cool evening.
Right in the middle of the circular driveway, a massive, intricately designed fountain stood proudly, water cascading from its tiers in a soothing rhythm.
Jake’s gaze flicked to the various luxury and imported sports cars parked carelessly around the front, some you recognized as your family’s, others belonging to guests or relatives who were likely visiting.
At that, Jake let out a scoff, shaking his head with an amused smile. “Okay, now this just reminds me of our house.”
You hummed, tilting your head slightly as you glanced at him. “Told you.”
He snorted. “Our parents really went all out, didn’t they?”
“They always do.” You sighed, leaning back into your seat. “Big houses, big cars, big expectations.”
Jake glanced at you briefly before turning back to the road, guiding the car toward the entrance. “Yeah,” he murmured, voice softer. “Big everything.”
There was a moment of silence, the quiet hum of the car filling the space.
Then, in true Jake fashion, he smirked. “But, to be fair, at least we’re not the ones worrying about car maintenance.”
You let out a laugh, shaking your head. “Small mercies, Sim. Small mercies.”
Before you could even reach for the door handle, Jake suddenly clicked his tongue. “Nope.”
You blinked at him just as he unbuckled his seatbelt and stepped out in one swift motion. His door shut with a quiet thud, and within seconds, he was already rounding the front of the car, effortlessly smooth as always.
The moment he pulled open the passenger door for you, he grinned. “Go on, princess. Fancy estates require fancy treatment.”
You huffed a laugh, shaking your head in amusement as you took his offered hand and stepped out onto the driveway. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”
“And yet, you keep me around,” he quipped, the corners of his eyes crinkling with that familiar, boyish smile.
Before you could fire back a response, the large wooden doors of the mansion suddenly swung open. The warm glow of the foyer lights spilled onto the marble steps, casting long shadows across the pristine entryway.
Standing in the doorway was your mother, poised yet undeniably elegant, dressed in a silk blouse and tailored pants. The usual sharpness in her gaze was softened, just slightly—with both worry and amusement as her eyes flickered between you and Jake, who was still casually holding your hand.
Her lips quirked up the slightest bit. “Well,” she mused, arms crossing. “It seems you’ve had quite the evening.”
Jake, ever the charmer, straightened up, offering a polite yet playful smile. “Good evening, Mrs. (L/N),” he greeted smoothly, his posture changing into something more formal yet undeniably confident.
You, on the other hand, simply sighed and shot him a look before turning to your mother. “Mom, please don’t start.”
Your mother let out a light laugh, though her eyes still held traces of concern. “I wasn’t going to.” Then, her gaze flickered to Jake’s sleek black sports car parked in the driveway. “I suppose I should be grateful you didn’t arrive in something flashier, Mr. Sim.”
Jake blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “Wait, how do you know me?”
Your mother let out a soft laugh, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Oh, Jake, dear. I’ve known you since you were in diapers.”
You and Jake exchanged equally confused glances before looking back at her.
Your mother smirked knowingly. “Your parents and I have been friends for years. We see each other at events all the time. I’m surprised you haven’t noticed.”
Jake scoffed in disbelief, rubbing the back of his neck. “Huh. Well, that’s news to me.” Then, he turned to you, raising a brow. “Did you know about this?”
You simply shrugged. “Nope.”
Jake let out an amused chuckle, shaking his head. “Figures.”
Your mother, still thoroughly entertained, placed a hand on her hip. “Well, now that we’ve established that, how about you join us for dinner? I’m sure you’ve had a long day.”
Jake straightened slightly, shifting into that polite, well-mannered version of himself that only surfaced in formal settings. “I appreciate the offer, ma’am,” he said smoothly, voice respectful but firm. “But my parents are expecting me back home soon.”
Your mother hummed, nodding in understanding. “That’s a shame. Maybe next time, then.”
“Definitely,” Jake agreed with a small grin before turning back to you. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
You nodded, offering him a small smile. “Yeah. Drive safe, Jake.”
He gave you a two-finger salute before slipping back into his sleek black sports car. The engine purred to life, the sound low and smooth, as he backed out of the pristine driveway.
You didn’t move, not even when the taillights faded into the distance. You waited until his car was completely out of sight before finally turning toward the open doorway.
The moment you stepped inside, your mother wasted no time.
“So,” she drawled, shutting the door behind you with a smirk that spelled nothing but trouble. “Jake Sim, huh?”
You sighed. “Mom.”
“What?” she asked, feigning innocence as she followed you further into the house. “He’s handsome. And he clearly dotes on you.”
“Mom.”
“Oh, and the way he opened the door for you? Adorable.”
You sighed dramatically, running a hand through your hair as you kicked off your shoes by the entrance. “Mom, I just met him—literally today.”
Your mother raised a perfectly manicured brow, crossing her arms over her chest as she leaned against the grand staircase railing. The warm chandelier light made the gold accents of her jewelry glint as she smirked at you. “Well, he certainly doesn’t act like it,” she quipped. “That boy was looking at you like an Alpha who’s been courting you for years.”
Your jaw dropped. “Mom! That is not—”
She cut you off with a knowing laugh, waving a dismissive hand. “Oh, sweetheart, please. The way he opened your door? The way he stood just a little too close while you were talking?” She shook her head with mock disbelief. “And you’re telling me you just met?”
You groaned, dragging a hand down your face. “I swear, you’re worse than Dad.”
Your mom gasped dramatically, placing a hand over her heart. “Excuse me?” Then, with a knowing smile, she added, “Speaking of your father, I’m pretty sure he’d approve of Jake.”
You stared at her, utterly exasperated. “Oh my god.”
She grinned. “What? He’s well-mannered, respectful, and from a good family. Plus, he drives a nice car. You know how your father feels about cars.”
You groaned louder, turning on your heel. “I’m going to bed before you start planning our wedding.”
“Oh, don’t tempt me!” she called out, amusement laced in her voice. Then, just as you reached your door, she added, “You'd make a cute pair, don’t you think?”
You slammed your door shut as her laughter echoed down the hall.
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Lunch had just begun, and the halls buzzed with the usual midday energy, students spilling out of classrooms, voices overlapping, shoes scuffing against the polished floors. Jake walked alongside his usual group, all casually making their way toward the cafeteria.
“Man, I am starving,” Jay groaned, stretching his arms. “What’s for lunch today?”
“Something fancy, probably,” Sunghoon replied with a shrug. “They said it’s steak.”
Ni-ki perked up at that. “Oh, hell yeah.”
“I hope it’s actually good steak,” Sunoo chimed in, adjusting his bag strap. “Not the rubbery kind they sometimes serve.”
The group chuckled, but Jake wasn’t paying much attention. His hands were tucked into his pockets, his gaze subtly scanning the hallway. It wasn’t obvious, he wasn’t desperate or anything, but he noticed the lack of a certain presence.
You weren’t there. It was weird. He hadn’t even known you for that long, yet your absence was noticeable.
His phone remained silent in his pocket, no texts or missed calls from you.
“Hey, we’re going,” Jungwon called over his shoulder as the group neared the cafeteria entrance.
Jake hesitated. “Actually,” he said, slowing his steps, “I need to finish up some paperwork. I’ll eat later.”
That got their attention.
Sunoo immediately narrowed his eyes. “You always say that.”
“Yeah, bro, what’s new?” Heeseung added, shaking his head.
Jay sighed, already tired. “Dude, just go. We all know you won’t eat properly if you’re buried in council work.”
“Exactly,” Sunghoon agreed. “We’d rather deal with you now than later when you’re sleep-deprived and grumpy.”
Jake waved them off lazily. “Yeah, yeah,” he shot them a grin before turning in the opposite direction. But instead of heading toward the council office, he found himself walking toward the library.
The moment he stepped inside, the atmosphere was different, it was quieter, calmer, with the faint scent of books in the air. His sharp eyes scanned the room, expecting to find you tucked away in your usual corner.
But you weren’t there.
He frowned slightly.
Instead, his gaze landed on the student librarian at the front desk, the same one who had seen you leaving with him last night. She noticed him instantly, and before he could even say a word, a slow, knowing grin stretched across her face.
Jake narrowed his eyes. He already didn’t like that look. “Where is she?” he asked, his tone neutral but firm.
The grin only widened. “Oh? Looking for someone, Sim?”
Jake exhaled sharply, unimpressed. “Her classroom. What floor?”
The student hummed, resting her chin on her palm. “And why would I tell you that?”
Jake leveled her with a flat stare. “Because I’m asking nicely.”
She clicked her tongue, dragging out the moment just to mess with him.
“Third floor,” she finally relented, her grin turning smug. “Room 3-A.”
Jake didn’t waste another second. Without another word, he turned on his heel, already making his way out.
But even as he left, he could still hear her barely suppressed laughter behind him.
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Jake wasn’t the type to go looking for people. If anything, people usually came looking for him, whether it was for council matters, social obligations, or just random confessions.
But today, instead of heading to lunch with the boys, he found himself climbing the stairs to the third floor, hands tucked into his pockets.
The student librarian had given him your classroom number with an all-too-knowing grin, and now, standing outside the door to Room 3-A, he was met with a scene that made him pause.
You were surrounded.
Not just by one or two people, but by half the classroom. Some perched on desks, others standing, leaning in with animated grins as they listened intently to whatever you were saying.
Laughter echoed through the space, loud and infectious. It wasn’t just that you were well-liked, it was that you owned the room without even trying.
The crowd, the attention, the way people gravitated toward you—it wasn’t new. And yet, as his eyes settled on you, a thought crept into his mind.
Did you even notice him standing there?
But then, as if you could sense him, your gaze snapped toward the doorway.
And suddenly, the noise faded into the background.
Despite being completely engrossed in conversation, despite the people practically surrounding you, your focus changed entirely. Your lips, still curled mid-laugh, softened into something more curious.
Jake hadn’t even taken a full step inside before you were already pushing yourself up from your seat, murmuring brief apologies to your friends as you effortlessly slipped through the crowd.
You reached him within seconds, tilting your head with a knowing smile. “Didn’t see you in the library.”
Jake’s lips twitched. “Yeah, well. That’s ‘cause you weren’t there.”
A teasing glint flashed in your eyes. “So you were looking for me.”
He scoffed lightly, shaking his head. “Something like that.”
Behind you, a whistle cut through the air. “Damn,” one of your classmates muttered. “Didn’t think Sim was into you.”
Jake didn’t acknowledge the comment, but he didn’t need to. You rolled your eyes before half-turning to shoot them an unimpressed look. “Oh, shut up.”
When you turned back, Jake was still watching you.
His gaze flickered over your face, assessing, before he finally tilted his head slightly. “You free?”
You blinked. “For?”
“Lunch.”
A beat of silence. Then—
“You’re inviting me to lunch?” you asked, amusement evident in your tone.
Jake smirked, rocking back on his heels. “I know. Big honor.”
You scoffed, playfully smacking his arm. “You’re such an idiot.”
“Maybe.” He nodded toward the door. “C’mon.”
You exhaled through your nose, shaking your head slightly before casting a glance over your shoulder—because, of course, your classmates were still very much watching. Some wore wide grins, others exchanged glances, and a few were whispering among themselves.
“Guess I’ll be back later,” you announced, sending them a wink before turning back to Jake.
And just like that, he was leading you out the door, the sound of hushed murmurs and not-so-subtle giggles trailing behind you.
The cafeteria was alive with the hum of conversation, the clatter of trays, and the occasional burst of laughter from groups of students huddled around their tables. The sheer size of the place should have made it feel open, but with the lunchtime rush in full swing, it felt like everyone was packed in shoulder to shoulder.
Jake barely hesitated before placing his hand on the small of your back again, guiding you through the crowd with effortless ease. It was instinctual, like he had to make sure you weren’t swallowed up in the mass of students.
The heat of his touch seeped through the thin fabric of your uniform, grounding and steady, but most of all, familiar.
You didn’t move away.
You didn’t want to.
If anything, your body naturally gravitated closer to him, and that realization alone sent a rush of warmth to your cheeks.
Jake, of course, was completely unbothered. He wasn’t even looking at you, his gaze flickered across the cafeteria, scanning the area, before muttering, “You’d think with a cafeteria this big, it wouldn’t feel so cramped.”
His voice was casual, like he wasn’t currently touching you like it was second nature.
You swallowed, trying to will away the warmth creeping up your neck. “What, don’t tell me you’re scared of a little crowd, Sim?”
Jake scoffed, glancing at you with a smirk. “Scared? No. Annoyed? Absolutely.”
You chuckled, shaking your head. “Such a prince, huh? What’s next? Gonna demand a private table?”
“Don’t tempt me.”
You gave him a look, lips twitching. “Wow. I thought you were the chill one in your group.”
Jake placed a hand over his chest, feigning offense. “I am chill.”
You raised a brow. “You’re literally guiding me through a cafeteria like we’re dodging landmines.”
He shot you a lazy grin. “That’s not me being not chill. That’s me making sure you don’t trip over some random first year’s backpack.”
You snorted. “Sure, Sim. Whatever you say.”
The line moved forward, and Jake’s hand, still warm and very much there, pressed just slightly, nudging you along with him.
The air between you two was light, playful, but underlined with something else, something neither of you was fully acknowledging yet.
Jake didn’t remove his hand, and you… well, you let him.
The line continued moving, and when you finally reached the food counter, he casually leaned in a little closer. “What are you getting?” The way his voice dipped slightly, like he was asking something personal, made your stomach flip.
You blinked, shaking yourself out of it. “Uh. Probably just whatever they have today.”
Jake raised a brow, amused. “That’s not very specific.”
You shrugged. “I’m not picky.”
He gave you a knowing look. “Right. I’ll believe that when I see it.”
You turned to him, narrowing your eyes. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”
Jake only smirked, looking far too smug for your liking. “Nothing, nothing.”
“No, say it.” You crossed your arms, facing him fully now.
He exhaled a laugh, tilting his head slightly. “I just feel like you have your little food preferences. Probably avoid certain textures. Maybe you don’t like overly salty stuff?”
You blinked. “…Okay, but how do you know that?”
Jake’s smirk widened. “So I am right?”
You clicked your tongue, rolling your eyes, but there was no real annoyance in it. If anything, the fact that he’d picked up on something so small about you after barely a day of knowing you was a little too endearing.
Jake, on the other hand, looked very pleased with himself.
The two of you finally reached the counter, and just as you were about to grab a tray, Jake casually plucked one up first—then handed it to you.
His fingers barely brushed against yours, but it was enough to send a jolt of awareness through your entire arm.
Your breath hitched.
Jake, however, was unfazed. “See? Not picky, but definitely predictable.”
You scoffed, snatching the tray from his hands. “I hate you.”
Jake just grinned. “Nah, you don’t.”
And damn it, he was right.
The two of you moved through the rest of the line with that same easy back-and-forth, Jake making little comments about your food choices while you shot back with equally teasing remarks. By the time you had your trays and turned toward the seating area, you realized something—
Most of the tables were already packed.
Clusters of students filled every available space, some standing and chatting with friends, others laughing loudly, their voices echoing through the massive cafeteria.
Jake scanned the room briefly, his sharp eyes flicking over the crowd before they landed on a relatively empty table tucked into a corner near one of the large windows. He didn’t hesitate—just placed his free hand on the small of your back again and guided you toward it without a word.
Your breath caught for a split second, but you didn’t pull away.
It was so effortless, the way he touched you—like he’d done it a million times before, like it was just natural for him to steer you through a crowded space. The warmth of his palm against your lower back was firm but not forceful, steadying yet entirely casual.
And the worst part?
You liked it.
Maybe a little too much.
You felt your face heating up again, but before you could dwell on it, Jake spoke.
“Looks like the guys disappeared on me,” he mused as you both reached the table, setting his tray down before pulling out a chair for you.
The gesture was so smooth, so instinctive, that it took you a second to react.
You blinked at him. “…Are you always this much of a gentleman?”
Jake let out a soft chuckle, his lips curling into a smirk as he leaned slightly over the chair. “Only for people who don’t make me carry both our trays.”
You rolled your eyes, but a small smile tugged at your lips as you sat down. “I could’ve carried my own, you know.”
Jake simply shrugged, taking his seat across from you. “Sure. But where’s the fun in that?”
You huffed a laugh, shaking your head before picking up your utensils. “Anyway, maybe your friends just assumed you’d be too busy drowning in council work to eat. You are kind of a workaholic.”
Jake raised an eyebrow as he unwrapped his utensils. “Oh? And you know this how?”
You gave him a pointed look. “You just told me earlier that you literally ditched them earlier by saying you had to ‘finish up papers.’”
Jake exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. “Technically, I didn’t lie. I do have papers to go through later.”
You snorted. “Right. And you just so happened to show up at my classroom instead.”
Jake’s eyes gleamed with amusement as he took a casual bite of his food. “Just a coincidence.”
You narrowed your eyes. “Mhm. Sure.”
He grinned. “What, can’t a guy take a break and conveniently end up where you are?”
Your fork paused midair.
The teasing lilt in his voice was undeniable, but there was something else there, something almost too deliberate in the way he said it. Like he wanted you to catch it. Like he was testing the waters.
And the worst part? It was working.
You quickly stuffed a bite of food into your mouth to distract from the way your stomach flipped at his words.
Jake just chuckled, clearly entertained by your reaction.
The two of you ate in comfortable silence for a moment, the chatter of the cafeteria buzzing around you. The corner you’d picked was quieter, a little more secluded, with sunlight streaming through the large windows beside you. It was… oddly peaceful.
Then, out of nowhere, Jake spoke again.
“I meant what I said, by the way.”
You glanced up, chewing slowly. “…About what?”
His eyes held yours. “That I don’t mind this.”
You swallowed. “This?”
Jake rested his elbow on the table, propping his chin up with his hand. “Eating with you.”
Your heartbeat stuttered.
It was such a simple statement, but the way he said it, the way he looked at you when he did—yeah, you were in trouble.
You quickly looked down at your plate, pretending to focus on your food.
Instead of commenting, he just smiled to himself, shaking his head slightly before picking up his fork again.
But the knowing glint in his eyes told you otherwise.
And damn it, you had a feeling he knew exactly what he was doing to you.
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The afternoon sun stretched golden across the field, casting a warm glow over the wide expanse of green. A light breeze rustled through the trees, carrying the crisp scent of grass and the faintest traces of sweat as Jake and Sunghoon tossed the football back and forth.
It was their free period, a rare chance to unwind and let their inner Alphas stretch a little without the weight of expectations pressing down on them.
Jake rolled his shoulders, catching the ball with ease before spinning it in his hands. “Think you can handle a real pass this time?”
Sunghoon scoffed, adjusting his stance. “Think you can throw one?”
Jake smirked, cocking his arm back and sending the ball soaring through the air—
But the second it left his hands, so did every ounce of his focus.
Your scent.
It drifted through the open halls beside the field, laced with something warm that settled into his chest like second nature. Jake’s head turned on instinct, drawn toward the source before he could even process why.
And there you were.
Walking side by side with Jungwon’s mate, your laughter trailing through the breeze.
Jake barely registered the thud of the football landing in Sunghoon’s grip. His attention was fixed entirely on you, the way you were so effortlessly blending into his world without even trying.
He felt something shift inside him, soft, warm, and dangerously easy to get used to.
Because it wasn’t just that it was you, though that alone was enough to mess with his pulse. It was the fact that you were comfortable, that you were talking and laughing with Jungwon’s mate, someone who had already been claimed, someone who was already part of the pack in a way that felt permanent.
And for some reason, seeing you like this, seeing you so naturally fall into step with people who had already been solidified in his life, it made something deep inside him settle.
Like a puzzle piece clicking into place. Like you belonged here.
Sunghoon’s voice barely cut through his daze. “Finally, a decent throw.”
Jake blinked, shaking himself out of it, but the warmth in his chest didn’t fade.
His hand twitched at his side, itching to reach for something, to act on something—but he didn’t even know what. His Alpha stirred, entirely content just from the sight of you.
He swallowed thickly. Then, suddenly, he was moving.
“I gotta—” Jake’s voice came out rushed, unsteady, as he took a step back. “Bathroom.”
Sunghoon didn’t even glance at him, too busy tossing the ball in the air. “Sure, whatever.”
Jake was already halfway across the field, already walking toward you.
The moment Jake started walking, he knew there was no stopping himself.
It wasn’t a conscious decision, his body just moved, drawn toward you like an invisible force had wrapped itself around his chest and tugged.
You hadn’t even noticed him yet, too caught up in whatever conversation you were having. Your expression was relaxed, your smile easy. The sight made something in Jake unravel, it was stupid, really, how soft he felt over something so simple.
But then, as if you could feel him coming, you glanced up.
Your eyes met his, and Jake swore he felt his heart stumble. Recognition flashed across your face, quickly followed by a small, surprised smile. “Jake?”
Jungwon’s mate turned as well, blinking in confusion. “Oh, hey! What are you doing here?”
Jake barely acknowledged her, his attention locked solely on you. “Free period,” he said, voice smooth but just a little quieter than usual. “I was training with Sunghoon.”
Your gaze flickered past him toward the field, where Sunghoon was still casually tossing the football in the air, completely unbothered.
“And now?” you asked, tilting your head.
Jake huffed a small breath, as if he hadn’t just abandoned practice the second he caught your scent. “Now I’m here.”
You raised an eyebrow. “For?”
Jake hesitated for half a second, then shrugged, a lopsided smirk tugging at his lips. “For you.”
Your breath hitched just slightly, but Jake caught it. And so did his inner Alpha, the presence inside him practically preening at the reaction.
Jungwon’s mate, completely noticing the tension settling between you two, let out a knowing hum. “Well, that’s my cue to leave.” She shot you a teasing look before waving. “See you later!”
You barely managed a nod before they slipped away, leaving you and Jake standing there, just looking at each other.
For a moment, neither of you spoke.
Then, slowly, Jake took another step closer, close enough that your scent wrapped around him fully. Close enough that he could see the faint pink dusting your cheeks, the way your fingers twitched slightly at your sides.
“Where are you headed?” he asked, his voice smooth, casual. Like he wasn’t completely invading your plans right now.
You tried to answer. Really, you did. But your brain was malfunctioning.
Because—goddamn.
Jake wasn’t in his usual navy blazer, and the absence of it shouldn’t have been this distracting, but it was. His white button-up was slightly rumpled, the top few buttons left undone, exposing just a hint of skin. His tie was loosened around his neck, his sleeves lazily rolled up to his elbows, and worst of all—his scent was stronger than ever.
The crisp bite of pine mixed with the warmth of oranges, fresh and intoxicating, like stepping into the woods after a summer rain. It wrapped around you, pulled you in, made your head feel lighter..
You swallowed, forcing your eyes forward before you got caught staring. “Uh—” Get it together, damn it. “Library.”
Jake hummed, slipping his hands into his pockets as he walked beside you. “Studying?”
“Something like that,” you muttered, still trying to focus on walking and not the way his arm brushed yours every now and then.
Jake glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, that ever-present smirk tugging at his lips. “You okay?”
No. Absolutely not.
But you weren’t about to admit that.
“Yeah,” you said, clearing your throat. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
Jake tilted his head slightly, amusement flickering in his gaze. “No reason. You just seem… distracted.”
You almost scowled. He knew. Of course he knew. His Alpha was probably reveling in it, preening at the fact that his scent was affecting you this much.
“Must be the heat,” you lied, pressing your lips together.
Jake exhaled a quiet laugh, low and knowing. “Yeah,” he murmured, voice dipping just enough to make your pulse jump.
The Alpha barely gave you a second to react before he was reaching for the books in your arms, smoothly plucking them from your grasp like they weren’t heavy at all.
“Jake—” You blinked, startled.
“You look like you’re about to drop these,” he said simply, adjusting the books against his hip with one arm. The other hand went to your shoulder, sliding the strap of your very, very girly bag off like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Your mouth opened, then closed. “Jake, that’s—”
He swung the bag onto his shoulder without even flinching.
It was pastel. It had bows. A tiny stuffed bear keychain dangled from the zipper, and the fabric smelled very obviously like you.
Jake didn’t even blink.
You, on the other hand, were short-circuiting. “What,” you finally choked out.
Jake peered down at you, unfazed. “What?”
You pointed, staring at the bag hanging on his shoulder. “That.”
He shrugged, completely unbothered. “What about it?”
“Jake, you’re holding my bag.”
Another shrug. “And?”
You stared at him. “It has bows.”
Jake smirked. “Cute.”
Your brain stopped functioning. “It’s pink.”
“Your point?”
You inhaled sharply, your hands flying up in exasperation. “You don’t care?”
Jake raised a brow. “Why would I?”
You huffed, actually huffed as you let your arms fall to your sides. “Because—because you’re literally walking around like that, unbothered, like you don’t have my pink, bow-covered, stuffed-animal-having bag slung over your shoulder—”
Jake leaned down a little, smirking. “Would it bother you if I cared?”
You gaped at him, caught completely off guard.
You hated how easily he did that, how easily he could flip the entire conversation on its head and make you feel ridiculous for even bringing it up.
“No,” you muttered, pressing your lips together. “It wouldn’t.”
Jake chuckled. “Then it’s not a problem, is it?”
And just like that, he straightened up, walking like he wasn’t carrying an entire armful of your things, including your very feminine, very obvious bag.
You? You were still recovering.
And somehow, you just knew, from the way Jake’s scent curled around you in smug amusement, from the way his lips kept twitching at your stunned silence—yeah, he was enjoying every second of this.
Jake didn’t even spare a glance back toward the field. Whatever Sunghoon was thinking, probably something along the lines of: where the hell did he go?
He should have gone back. He should have at least tossed Sunghoon a quick text to say he got caught up. But the moment he saw you, saw the way you were laughing with Jungwon’s mate, saw the way the sunlight hit your face just right, any thought of returning to training vanished.
Sunghoon would figure it out. Eventually.
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The next day, the moment the final bell rang, the hallway buzzed with noise, students shuffling to their lockers, conversations overlapping, and plans forming for the rest of the afternoon.
Jake stretched his arms above his head, rolling his shoulders as he walked alongside Heeseung. “Man, I need something sweet,” Heeseung muttered, eyes glued to his phone. “Let’s stop by the café real quick before we head back.”
Jake hummed in agreement, barely listening. His hands were shoved in his pockets, steps lazy and unhurried, until he saw you.
You stood by your locker, fingers moving as you fixed your books and reorganized your things. Strands of hair fell over your face as you reached up to adjust the top shelf, completely unaware of the way Jake’s attention had locked onto you like a magnet.
Like his feet had a mind of their own, walking past you wasn’t an option. He lifted a hand, waving Heeseung off without a word.
Heeseung, still distracted by whatever was on his phone, just nodded absentmindedly. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”
Jake took that as his cue and started walking.
He changed course, slipping away so smoothly it was like he had never been walking beside Heeseung in the first place. Within seconds, he was ten feet away from where they had been.
Heeseung didn’t even notice.
Jake stopped right beside you, leaning casually against the lockers. “Need some help?”
You glanced up, slightly startled. “Jake? What happened to—weren’t you with Heeseung?”
Jake smirked. “Was I?”
You blinked. “…Yes?”
Jake just shrugged, reaching out and taking the book you were about to shove into your bag. Without hesitation, he slung your very girly, very bow-covered bag over his shoulder like it was nothing. The sight of it against his unbuttoned navy blazer, his loosened navy tie, and the lazy confidence in his stance, was almost comical.
You narrowed your eyes at him. “Jake.”
“Hm?”
“You ditched him.”
His grin was shameless. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Jake—”
“Come on,” he cut in smoothly, already turning to walk with you. “Where are you headed?”
You huffed, shutting your locker. “The student council room.”
Jake raised a brow, a flicker of curiosity crossing his features. “Huh. Didn’t know you were suddenly on council duty.”
You shot him a look. “I’m not. Our class treasurer forgot to submit a report on the budget, so I’m doing it.”
His expression changed, something playful settling in his gaze. “And you didn’t ask me for help?”
You rolled your eyes, hugging the folder to your chest. “Jake, you’re the secretary, not the treasurer. Big difference.”
“Still part of it,” he argued, effortlessly matching your pace as you navigated through the crowded hall. “I could’ve at least made sure you weren’t running around like this.”
You scoffed, but before you could respond, you felt the warmth of his hand press lightly against the small of your back. It was a barely-there touch, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Your breath hitched.
Jake, of course, didn’t seem fazed at all. If anything, he was acting like this was normal. Like the heat of his palm wasn’t sending a strange sort of static along your spine.
“What?” he mused, tilting his head slightly when he noticed you stiffen. “Crowded hall. Don’t want you getting lost.”
You swallowed hard, pressing your lips together as you forced yourself to keep walking.
Meanwhile, a few feet behind, Heeseung who had been completely occupied with his phone, glanced up, only to find that Jake had completely disappeared.
His brows furrowed as he scanned the hallway, but all he could see was a familiar fluff of brown hair moving through the crowd.
Heeseung sighed through his nose, shaking his head. “Unbelievable.”
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The student council room was unusually silent.
No soft hum of pages flipping, no quiet muttering as Jake worked through his usual mountain of files, no fresh scent of coffee filling the air like it always did in the morning.
Just… quietness.
Jay walked in first, balancing his drink in one hand, fingers lazily tapping against his phone with the other. "He’s already here, right?" He barely glanced up, expecting the usual scene: Jake at his desk, half-buried in council paperwork, looking vaguely annoyed that they weren’t being as productive as him.
Ni-ki didn’t even bother looking around. "Duh. Jake’s always here first."
Except, Jake wasn’t there.
Jay froze mid-step, blinking at the empty desk. “Wait.” He frowned. “Where the hell is he?”
Ni-ki finally looked up from his phone, expecting Jay to be overreacting, only for his eyes to land on something even weirder, a stack of neatly arranged documents, sitting untouched on Jake’s desk.
It was done.
All of it. Every single piece of work Jake should've been doing this morning had already been signed, stapled, and sorted.
Jay exhaled through his nose, taking a slow sip of his drink. “Okay. So, either he pulled an all-nighter and got his work done ahead of time…” He trailed off before exchanging a look with Ni-ki.
“…Or he figured out how to clone himself,” Ni-ki deadpanned, poking the paperwork like it might vanish into thin air. “Either way, this is freaky.”
Jay barely acknowledged the joke, still staring at the empty seat. “No, but seriously. Where is he?”
Meanwhile, a few blocks away; Jake didn’t even bother looking up as the café door chimed, signaling more students coming in. He barely acknowledged the low murmurs around them, the not-so-subtle glances.
His focus was elsewhere. More specifically, on you.
You were curled slightly forward, fiddling with your drink, your hand resting on his blazer, which was draped across your lap.
He had thrown the blazer over you without a second thought—didn’t even say anything, just casually shrugged it off and placed it there.
Not that you noticed. You were too busy fuming about your morning.
“I mean, seriously,” you huffed, stirring your drink aggressively. “What kind of professor makes a deadline 7 AM sharp? That should be illegal. There should be laws.”
Jake hummed, lazily adjusting the girly pink bag that was currently on his lap. “So you did it last-minute.”
You shot the pureblooded Alpha a look. “No, because if I finished it early, I wouldn’t be this pissed off about it.”
Jake smirked. “Right. So you did do it last-minute.”
You groaned, pressing your forehead against the table dramatically. “Okay, fine, maybe I did finish it at, like, 3 AM, but that’s beside the point.”
Jake took a slow sip of his drink, watching you. “No, I think that’s exactly the point.” His voice was smoother now, teasing. “You could’ve just asked for my help, you know.”
Your head snapped up. “Oh, please. Like I’d let Mr. Secretary do my work for me.”
Jake huffed out a small laugh. “Yeah, but you let me carry your bag.”
You didn’t even blink. “And?”
Jake blinked back.
Because, yeah, he’d been expecting at least some kind of reaction. A scoff, an eye-roll, maybe even a muttered whatever, Sim. But instead, you looked at him like this was just normal. Like him carrying your pink, ribbon-covered, unmistakably girly bag was something he’d done a hundred times before.
Which, now that he thought about it, he kinda had.
Your omega practically preened at the thought.
It felt natural. Comforting.
Like it belonged there, like he belonged there.
And if Jake noticed the way your lips pressed together like you were fighting back a smile? No, he didn’t. Not at all.
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Mornings in the council room were always the same. Papers shuffled, chairs scraped against the floor, low murmurs filled the air as the student council members moved through their routine and Jake’s coffee—always lingered in the air, a signal that their secretary had already buried himself in work before anyone else arrived.
Except today, the room smelled normal.
No coffee, no Jake.
Jungwon, seated at his own desk near the window, skimmed through a proposal, his brows furrowed in concentration. Sunoo, half-awake and nursing his iced americano like his life depended on it, peeked up at the clock.
Ni-ki, on the other hand, had been watching the entrance for the past five minutes.
“Where’s golden boy?” he finally muttered, leaning back in his chair, spinning his pen between his fingers.
Jay, sitting at his own table across from Jungwon, barely spared him a glance. “No clue. Probably overslept.”
Heeseung, who had his feet propped up on his desk, scoffed. “Jake? Oversleep? Yeah, right.”
Sunghoon, who had been absentmindedly flipping through his phone, glanced up, unimpressed. “Maybe he finally decided to quit and live a stress-free life. About time.”
The words had barely left his mouth when the door swung open.
Jake strolled in, hands tucked into his pockets, his usual crisp blazer nowhere to be found. The loosened navy tie around his neck hung effortlessly, and his hair was slightly tousled like he’d been outside for too long.
The Alpha wasn't rushed, not groggy, just calm.
And that was already weird: Jake never looked this relaxed in the morning.
Jay barely lifted his head, but his eyes narrowed.
Heeseung blinked, sitting up slightly. Jungwon paused mid-page turn. Sunoo finally looked up from his drink.
Jake, however, didn’t spare them a single glance.
He just walked straight to his desk, set his bag down, and smiled.
Not his usual morning scowl, not the slightly annoyed expression they were used to, and that alone was enough to make the entire room go quiet.
And then—
“You reek of an omega.” Sunghoon’s voice cut through the silence, lazy but pointed.
Jake didn’t even look up, he didn’t tense, he didn’t acknowledge it. He just shrugged. “New perfume.”
Jay immediately put his pen down.
Sunoo, blinking, looked at Jungwon, then at Jake again. Ni-ki, having just taken a sip of his drink, nearly choked.
“Perfume?” Jungwon repeated, skeptical.
“Yeah,” Jake hummed, still not looking at them. “Wanted to try something different.”
And honestly, it would’ve been believable.
Jake wore cologne. That much was true. But not this. Not this soft. It wasn’t sharp like his usual clean, expensive scent.
It was warmer. Like honey and seawater, subtle but distinct, the kind of scent that only clung to someone when they’d been too close to an omega for too long.
And in a room filled with pureblooded alphas, it wasn’t something that went unnoticed.
But instead of calling him out, Sunghoon just exhaled through his nose, letting it slide. If some omega had thrown themselves at Jake this morning, it wasn’t exactly surprising.
“Damn,” Ni-ki muttered, shaking his head in amusement. “Didn’t know you had a confession today.”
Jake, finally glancing up, raised a brow. “Huh?”
Sunoo smirked. “The omega. They were all over you, weren’t they?”
Jake just rolled his eyes. “I don’t know what you guys are talking about.”
But Jay just stared. Because while the others were making their own assumptions, he noticed things.
Like the way Jake’s shoulders were too loose, the way his usually sharp morning glare had been replaced by something almost smug. The way his fingers lingered just a second longer when he reached for his pen.
Jake was weirdly comfortable, and Jay had a feeling it wasn’t because of some random omega.
It was someone specific. It wouldn't take a genius to acknowledge the fact that his scent was all over a specific omega just as much as theirs was all over him.
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That same day, the council room was missing something.
Or rather—someone.
Jungwon tapped a pen against his desk, lips pressing into a thin line as his gaze swept across the room. The usual members were in their usual places, some sorting through reports, others murmuring among themselves. But one chair, in particular, remained empty.
Jake’s.
Jungwon turned to the juniors under the secretary committee, his tone expectant. “Did he say anything about missing the meeting?”
The second-years exchanged nervous glances before one of them hesitantly spoke up. “No, President. He didn’t mention anything.”
That made Jungwon pause.
Jake was many things, laid-back, exasperatingly smug, and a flight risk when it came to avoiding unnecessary small talk. But he was also reliable. He never skipped a meeting without at least a heads-up.
Sunoo, lounging lazily in his chair, finally looked up from his phone. “Are we sure he’s not dead?”
Heeseung, ignoring him, strode over to Jake’s desk. His eyes immediately landed on the thick folder placed neatly at the center, its edges aligned with military precision.
He opened it.
Inside were pages upon pages of documents, all labeled, revised, and signed. Every committee task Jake was responsible for? Already handled.
Heeseung huffed a small laugh, shaking his head. “Figures.”
Sunoo leaned over, peeking at the contents. “So he did everything beforehand, left proof, and then just—what? Vanished?”
Silence.
Then he clapped his hands together. “Well, if everything’s here, we might as well start.”
No one objected, except Jay.
Jay, who hadn’t even looked at the documents because he didn’t need to.
Something about this was off.
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It was late.
The university parking lot was nearly empty, save for a few scattered cars and the occasional security guard making his rounds. The group were all making their way toward their rides, conversations overlapping in low murmurs.
The day had been long, the last meeting dragging on longer than expected, and now they were finally free.
"Ugh, I swear, if one more junior asks me to proofread their paperwork—" Sunoo grumbled, shoving his hands into his pockets.
"Maybe if you didn’t baby them so much, they wouldn’t keep asking," Sunghoon teased, smirking.
Sunoo shot him a glare. "Maybe if you actually showed up to the meetings on time, you’d—"
Jay wasn’t listening.
His attention had been caught by something else.
A few steps ahead of the group, his pace slowed, then stopped entirely as his gaze landed on one of the benches just near the lot.
At first, he didn’t understand what he was looking at.
Jake was there. That in itself wasn’t strange. But Jake wasn’t alone, you were there, too.
And that was what made Jay’s breath catch in his throat; Jake wasn’t just sitting with you.
He was practically curled into you, head nestled snugly against the curve of your neck, his face pressed to your scent gland like it was the most natural thing in the world. His arm draped lazily over the back of the bench, one hand resting near your thigh; casual, comfortable, too familiar.
And you? You were just reading.
Flipping through the pages of your book like this was nothing new. Like Jake burying himself against your scent, molding himself into you, wasn’t something worth reacting to.
Jay’s feet refused to move.
It took Heeseung nearly walking into him for the others to notice his sudden stillness.
“Dude, why’d you stop—” Heeseung started, but then his voice faltered when he followed Jay’s gaze.
One by one, the rest of the group turned.
And one by one, their expressions shifted.
“Oh.” Jungwon’s voice was quiet, but filled with realization.
“No way.” Ni-ki blinked.
Sunghoon let out a low chuckle, crossing his arms. “Well. That explains a lot.”
Sunoo pressed his lips together, visibly holding back a laugh as he nudged his mate. “I mean, are we even surprised?”
They weren’t.
Not really.
But seeing it—seeing Jake so effortlessly tangled up with you, as if he’d been doing this for years, was something else entirely.
And Jake? Jake was completely oblivious to the fact that they were watching.
If anything, he only seemed to relax further, exhaling deeply against your skin before shifting slightly, adjusting his position so he could press even closer. His nose brushed against your neck, fingers twitching slightly as if resisting the urge to grip your waist.
The sight of it made something click.
Jay had noticed it before, the way Jake had been disappearing more often, the way he had been skipping out on long hours at the council office, the way he had been coming back with a scent that was unmistakably omega, unmistakably settled on his skin.
But now, standing here, watching Jake press into you, breathe you in, claim you without even realizing he was doing it—it made too much sense.
Jay exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. “Well. That’s new.”
Finally, Jake moved.
Not because he noticed them, no, he was still completely wrapped up in you. It was because you moved.
Without even looking up from your book, you lifted a hand and ran your fingers gently through Jake’s hair, the motion absentminded and natural, like this was routine.
Jake hummed at the touch, actually hummed, his arm tightening slightly around the back of the bench.
The entire group watched in silent disbelief.
Sunghoon blinked. "I feel like we shouldn't be seeing this."
Jungwon huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. "Yeah, but here we are."
Ni-ki raised a brow. "So, are we just gonna stand here and stare, or—?"
Jake had been careful.
Or at least, he thought he had.
But apparently, not careful enough.
Because the second he smelled it—them, it was already too late.
Jake’s body tensed, his nose twitched, and his fingers flexed against the back of the bench. The comfortable warmth of your scent was suddenly invaded, drowned out by something else.
Jake inhaled once again, and immediately regretted it.
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⤷ read part 2 here !
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taglist: @hoonbrry @hime98 @chae-darling @moonchus @peatchiedii @creamkwan @nyfwyeonjun @whoe-dis @woonie-muffin @caelumsjy @90sni-ki @leiomorea @junjungsunwoo @in-somnias-world @notcamii @yizhoutv @lovesickth @elairah @graythecoffeebean @skyearby @ikeumina @blckorchidd @littlebambi-isdee @immelissaaa @jakesfurry @dreamy-carat @cristy-101 @m1kkso @h4niyahcar @firstclassjaylee
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© 2025 liuhsng — reblogs are highly appreciated and please don't hesitate to request some fics here if you want me to write anything !
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ladybyakuya · 10 months ago
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| when we're done making love and you look up and give me those eyes |
+cw. — abo au, headcanon format, mating cycles, heat cycles, some canon elements, omega!reader, gn!reader
+wc. —0.6 k
+syn.— where do they like to mark? Is it before marriage or during the first night? Is it you who marks first or him?
+notes. — mandatory celebration post for gen narumi but my brain said why be so biased hahah. enjoy. | redirect to blog navigation.
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Reno Ichikawa → Reno Ichikawa is the type to talk about marking before actually doing it. Marking is a big step when you are in any kind of relationship, whether serious or casual. So, without consent, he will not mark you. Reno likes to mark where you can see, touch his mark, and perhaps miss him when he is not around. It could be when he is inside you holding you as close as possible whispering how good you are to him and how blessed he is to meet you or it could be when you are sitting on the kitchen counter sipping a warm cup of coffee. He is talking about his day at work when he suddenly becomes a little cozy and comfortable. He takes your hand and bites around the wrist. It does not hurt much but when his teeth latch away from your skin you can see it in his eyes saying, “We've all night long to make it more memorable.” And throughout the night he makes you remember how he is worth your time. He is a little too excited to get marked by you. He is not really concerned with “where” rather he is more focused on “how”.
Gen Narumi → Gen Narumi will mark you when you two are engaging in sex with both of your sanity intact. He will not mark you when you are under the influence of heat cycle and begging him to mark you neither will he mark you when he is at his peak of mating urges. Surely, it slightly breaks his heart to see how desperate you are to get marked but he is totally aware of the fact that it is your hormone talking. So, when he is not in his rut and you are not experiencing heat cycles he will mark you, as many times as you want and wherever you want. But when he is done marking you: along your nape, inner thighs, wrists, and calf muscles he gets a little shy when it is your turn to mark him. He is the type to avoid eye contact after being too intimate so it takes time for him to muster up the courage to talk or even look after the marking session. Once he gets out of his shell of shyness you are in for an absolute treat.
Soshiro Hoshina → Hoshina likes to mark where your hands can not reach, nor to soothe the pain nor to remember how it felt and nor have the privilege of even seeing it. Only he can see where he marked. He is the type to leave multiple marks, on your nape and back. And he insists on being marked where it is not easy to see. Not because he wants to hide his relationship from the eyes of the world but because he wants something solely to belong to himself without the scrutiny eyes of his family. Growing up in a traditional family he is the type to break rules whenever he has the opportunity. So, even though you two already had a marking session before he would still insist on doing it on the first night after marriage. No one will know except you two.
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wetpussyju1ce · 3 months ago
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Alpha!König x Omega!fem reader (smaller than König)
original post
for @ohdrey89
+18. mdni.
könig and his tiny soon to be heat partner are a cute pair. since the day König shoved his whole knot inside her, his brain chemistry shifted and he's been stupid for her ever since. absolutely awe struck w her. he can't help it. now when she's all calm, asking him if he'd be willing to help her fix some fences to keep foxes away from her chickens, as if the day before his mind and whole being wasn't blinded with so much pleasure he felt reborn. she can't be asking him that so… so casual when he feels like he'd die if he stays away from her for too long.
he definitely knows he has some underlying issues if he's feeling this affected by them having sex for the first time. or maybe it's love. he'd like to think it is. because she's funny, smart, kind and pretty, and her pussy is the wettest, warmest and tightest he's ever been in. so yeah, she's definitely a catch. and she seems like she likes him to a degree, because even after their little excapade at the cottage, she still smiles at him and holds his arm or squeezes his thigh when they're all gathered up before dinner in his pack house.
his heart hammers in his chest and he feels his balls throb whenever she bats her pretty eyelashes at him or teases him. she asks him to help her with the most random things, things that require heavy lifting around her own little garden and cottage. and he does it. because why the fuck would he say no?
and she knows what she's doing too, sits on a bench with her chin resting on her palms as her elbows rest on her knees, watching the massive Alpha chop enough wood to last 3 winters, just because she asked. and he's sweating through his t-shirt, the fabric sticking to his freckled and scarred skin under. and she's just taking it all in. the bulging biceps, the big hands, the massive shoulders, his thighs that are as thick as trunks and the bulge between his legs, her absolute wet dream, live in the flesh.
when he's done, he's panting and his t-shirt is drenched, so he takes it off and she grins like the cat that got the cream. She offers him water off her cute pink pitcher, and he drinks like half of it. when he's done. she takes the water back inside the house, with him following her, his t-shirt in his hands. he stands in her small kitchen awkwardly, too big, too out of place for her soft and cozy home. that is until she tells him to leave the t-shirt on the floor, she'll wash it later. and he's about to disagree because he can wash it himself but then she's slowly lifting her tiny t-shirt over her chest, and he chokes on his spit.
His eyes immediately land on her small breasts and he can't breathe.
König doesn't even realise he's already crossed the kitchen and now has her flat down on her dinner table, his mouth licking and sucking, taking his fill out of her chest. And he's moaning, big warm rough hands holding her still as she laughs and moans on the table.
He frantically unbuttons her shorts and pulls the zipper down, before he can pull down her shorts and underwear in one go he remembers his manners and looks up, “Can– Can I eat you out? Please?”
“Yes,” She grins and he doesn't waste another second, pulling her clothes down in one go. he gets his head between her legs, buries it as far he can go, his nose nudging her clit as he licks broad stripes over her wet lips, then shoved his tongue in.
One thing the Omega learned about König is that when he wants something, he does it fully, wholeheartedly, he doesn't waste time with pleasantries. If he wants to eat her pussy, he will, with everything he's got.
The Omega quickly startes to trash under his filthy mouth, she grips his hair and pulls, her legs shaking as he messily drinks her slick between her legs. The noises he makes are loud and wet. She gets momentarily worries he may drown down there, considering she leaks a lot, like so much, especially when he's involved. But all König does is feast on her sweet cunt, drinking out of her as if she was the sweetest thing he's ever tasted, and she may as well be considering his dick is about to rip through his jeans, his knot tingling and ready to swell.
Her mind is foggy, her eyes are rolling at the back of her head as he eats her out and thumbs at her nipples with one hand at the same time, he's not giving her time or space to breathe. With every exhale she moans, and when he ears finally stop ringing she realises he's been speaking to her. Or at least saying something and she makes a small confused sound, looks down her body and tries to listen over the sound of him loudly and sloppily drinking everything she has to offer, and finally picks up something. König is another planet, his brain shut down and all he can repeat over and over again are praises for her, and her pussy; "You taste so good, so good-- So sweet and warm and tight-- Please come on my face, please I want it--"
That's it. That's all it took for her to squirt all over his face, shouting in her small cottage, writhing on her dinner table that she definitely needs to clean later. König is over the moon, unashamedly moaning with his head between her legs, he doesn't give a shit about breathing when she's covering his whole face with her slick, marking him up. He doesn't even realise he's also coming in his trousers, ruining his boxers with a horrifying amount of cum, but he'll deal with that later, after he gets his fill.
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ambriolett02 · 15 days ago
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I was cooking and I burned the bacon cause daaaaa- mn, fem!omega!reader in heat but all Underfell Papyrus is gonna do is be bratty and test her patience~
Can we talk about positions when there is such a size difference? Lol I struggle sometimes!
Also more ambiguously drawn omega!y/n in read more^^
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lostintransist · 1 month ago
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Broken Beyond Bearing | Part 5
-. —- / .-. . -.-. —- .-. -.. … / . -..- .. … - / ..-. —- .-. / …. . .-.
Part 1 found here | AO3
Simon’s rut had finished in due course, leaving everyone a little worse for wear but recharged emotionally. Johnny spent every moment not pinned to a mattress, keening, with you. He couldn’t quite tell how it was working. Each time he emerged from their room and daylight still touched their mountain you could be found outside.
Bundled up in the shawl he had picked up for you and the winter supplies everyone else had pitched in for, you seemed to be making friends with the crows. Johnny would dress for the weather and join you often sitting in silence broken by caws. Each time he sat you allowed him a little closer than the time before.
You befriended the crows; he courted you.
In passing times he coordinated with John about making sure you would be set for when they returned to missions. You would need a phone, a computer, a card to access the joint bank account, sign-in information for the local grocery store for deliveries and any other number of things. Everything that needed to be delivered would arrive before they left.
The day Simon’s rut finally broke Johnny showered quickly and found you on the back porch, setting the cashews out that no one had cared to find in the back of the cupboard.
“Care to walk with me?” Johnny smiled brightly at you despite struggling to see with the bright snow blazing into his eyes.
You narrowed your eyes at him before agreeing with a nod.
“Let’s not track snow in through the house, have you explored beyond the deck yet?” Johnny offers you an elbow.
The hard stare you pin him with reminds him of the feeling before a bomb blows.
“Just an elbow ya bonnie moves to and fro and not much else,” he shifted it to prove his point.
The laugh you let out comes through your nose, but you take his offer. Silence only found in a forest coated in snow is broken only by the crunching of boots. Johnny walks you around the house and down the drive. Nearly ten minutes pass in companionable silence before you speak up.
“Why a wife?”
“Mmm?” Johnny glances at you. He had been lost in his thoughts about well he didn’t really need to jump back into those thoughts right now, they involved his lips being in places they had not been invited…yet.
“Kate called me a wife. Why a wife and not pack?” Your lips are pursed as you ask.
Johnny tips his head as he thinks of how to reply. Seven more steps pass before he has an answer.
“Wife is an old word, not too common anymore. Its original meaning was a treasured one. It can still be listed in lieu of a designation on a lot of government forms. When Kate told John she had brought us a wife she told him that she brought someone we should treasure.”
You slowed to a stop, confusion and a waft of fear-laced want lifted into the air from your neck. Johnny held down the urge to lift a wrist to his nose to pull the scent in deeper. Even the sour, off notes to the want couldn’t disguise the heady pull of it.
He did, however, lift his hand from his warm pocket to press it to your cheek. Watching your eyes drift close and lips part at the touch sent a frenzy off in his body. That moment got him through a lot of rough spots after they shipped off.
Johnny thought about it now, that sweet moment where you began to understand they would care for you because you were their wife, as he aimed the truck up the drive. When the cabin finally came into sight in the bright, cold sunshine he couldn’t prevent his sigh. Three weeks home with you, while he recovered from a bad concussion, would be a blessed chance to woo you.
Parked neatly under the front porch, Johnny grabbed his bag and headed for the stairs. At least two storms’ worth of snow had settled on each step. Odd, but it’s not like you were expecting visitors. Clomping up the stairs to alert you to his presence, Johnny turned the door handle and sucked in a deep breath to call out.
Only stale air met his nose.
Stale. Cold. Air.
He hadn’t driven with a gun on his thigh but Johnny always traveled with a blade at his ankle. It appeared in his hand as he cleared the house. Each room that came up empty, no signs of a struggle, ratcheted up his concern. The back porch being covered in untouched snow told him you were gone.
Missing.
Stolen?
The knife slid home in its ankle holster, Johnny ran back to the truck and turned it around, heading into town. If you had any issues that is where you would most likely be. None of them had any voicemails when they turned their phones back on after a grueling mission.
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“Old MacDonald had a farm, eieio!” You sing out in your loudest volume.
Thirteen days trapped in this tiny cell at the sheriff’s office had given you a lot of time to work out a good outlet for your anger at being contained. Laying across the thin mattress projecting your voice into the cement box at least gave you something to do.
“And on that farm, he had a pig, eieio!”
Seven weeks alone after a lifetime of being surrounded by betas had driven you a smidge wilder than Scorpio left you. Thankfully one thing Scorpio had taught you was how to get over your shyness of peeing while being watched.
“With a ‘you have the right to remain silent’ here and a ‘anything you say can and will be used against you’ ther—”
Something slammed into the bars. Letting your head loll to the side you looked at the young alpha deputy, with black hair and tattoos peeking above his collar, who stared at you with wild eyes and a snarl to rival a lion. Too bad for him you were a fucking badger.
“Do you have to keep singing?”
Catching his eye, you took a deep breath.
“Twinkle, twinkle little fuck. Being cops must really suck.”
This twisted version of the song belted out louder than Old MacDonald did.
Deputy Tweedle Dee hit the bars again and yelled toward the desks.
“Any word on those military guys up the canyon? I might kill her if she keeps up the singing.”
“Promises, promises officer!” You shout after him, cackling at the whine of distress he let out.
Damn, you really needed to see people more. A few weeks with only the crows to talk to and you started to lose it.
A commotion beyond the edge of your hearing cut through your song.
“Where is my wife!?”
The roar had you sitting upright, snow boots clunking against the floor.
They might have abandoned you and not answered their phones when the food deliveries stopped but you knew your new keepers would object to you being gone.
“Now sir, you can’t barge in her—”
That was the receptionist. Bit of a bitch but she didn’t antagonize you like the deputy did at least.
Deputy Tweedle Dee reappeared from the edge of the cell, collar pulled tight by a hand lightly covered in hair pushed him forward. The tattoo insignia came next and there he was, Johnny. His sharp blue eyes scoured you, tension around his eyes easing at seeing you physically well. The angry glare returns as he shifts his attention back to the deputy.
You didn’t know what to call him; you didn’t have a companion word for wife. You had forgotten to look it up until now.
Johnny shook the deputy. You smirked as his head bobbled.
“Let her out. Now.”
“No, I can—”
The deputy’s words were cut off with his air as Johnny twisted the shirt around his hand.
“Now.”
The menace in his voice pairs neatly with the scent of rage and vitality lifting off Johnny now.
The deputy pulls the key from his belt and opens the cell you had been trapped in. You stand and cross to the exit.
“Deputy Fuck-up,” you snark as you pass the men.
Hate flares in his eyes as Johnny lets him go. The hand that choked a man settles against your back, heat flashing through your shirt. They hadn’t given you back your coat after they threw you into lockup. The thin blanket provided did nothing to fight back the chill of the snow and concrete.
Your beta preens at Johnny’s touch. The burn of his anger in your nose has her crying out to soothe him. She will hush if you ignore her, she always has before. Walking back through the precinct you can’t help but flip off the old sheriff who is standing up behind his desk in the glass-walled office.
He hustles around his desk, hollering into the room. The ruddy red of his cheeks slinks down his neck as he gets closer. He would like Santa with his white hair if not for the short trimmed beard instead of a long bushy one.
“Now, young man! You cannot take that beta!”
“Go out to the truck please, wife,” Johnny murmured down to you as he laid a kiss to your temple.
“I need my shawl,” you inform him.
Johnny looks at you, all light disappearing from his blue eyes.
“They took it?” Frost would have puffed off his breath if the heater hadn’t kicked in then, the hum filling the space.
You nod once, eyes not leaving him as the sheriff steps up to speak to Johnny. The one who calls you wife ignored the blustering man as he shrugged off his own coat and settled it on your shoulders. His touch lingers at the zipper, scent of burning and a hint of disaster in his scent. Turning from the oncoming storm you leave the building that had jailed you. The truck is unlocked when you reach it.
Opening the passenger door you gag and physically recoil. The stench of fear and panic billows out like smoke from a broken window. Pinching your nose closed and sipping in air through your mouth you open every door of the truck despite the cold biting at your skin.
“Damn, I didn’t realize he might actually care,” you mutter, tone nasally.
Nearing five minutes later Johnny pushes through the glass doors, your shawl in hand. At his appearance, you step from the driver’s seat where you had waited and close the back doors as you work your way around to the passenger seat. Johnny climbs behind the wheel and passes your shawl over. You let it rest in your lap, running your hands over it as he begins the drive back to the cabin.
Halfway through the silent drive, he speaks.
“What the hell happened?”
Struck as if by lightning you can’t prevent but biting back.
“The fuck do you mean? What the hell happened to being someone you treasure? The food deliveries stopped two weeks ago and I couldn’t reach anyone. What was I supposed to do but walk my happy ass to town?”
Johnny glances at you from the side of his vision.
“Why not drive?”
“You really need to talk to Kate about the fuckery I went through before you make assumptions,” you growl at him, fingers digging into the plushness of your shawl.
“Interestin’,” he drawls in his accent.
“What is?” you snap
“You weren’t this feisty when we left.”
He says it as if it is an interesting animal fact and not the trait that kept you alive and assured your demise rising to the surface again.
Snapping your teeth closed you cross your arms and stare at your boots. The remainder of the drive is silent. You ignore every drifting scent coming from Johnny, unwilling to engage in any way.
Broken Masterlist | Masterlist
@lucienofthelakes @gg-trini @talia-the-gemini @thriving-n-jiving @z-wantstowrite @asialovesyou09 @literallegendicon @canthavetoomuchchaos @reinekoya @jsptmoche @demothers-empty-blog @hbaasaad @sun-daddy-yoriichi @wiciclesatmidnight @kaoyamamegami @little-mini-me-world @corvid007 @skeletonsucker @feyresqueen @dreamland08
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ldysmfrst · 11 months ago
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Welcome to American Mate's Master List! The Taglist is CLOSED for this story.
This is an OT7 x Plus Sized/Chubby Reader story. The story will have Mature Scenes. The chapters with these adult themes will have (M) in the chapter name, so please 18+ readers only. Within the chapters, at the start and end of the Mature scene will be the following banner, if you want to skip them.
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The Hybrid K-pop group BTS is on tour in America; of course, things don't start out the way they should, but after an encounter with Y/n, things change but will everyone follow Fate?
It's Time to Meet the Bangtan Pack
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Chapter 1 - Two Weeks Early
Let's introduce you to the world of Hybrids and Playmates. It really is quite simple until a VIP Potential Client's manager walks into your office two weeks early, and it's only a skeleton crew right now.
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Chapter 2 - The Playmate Meeting
Bangtan Pack arrives at Playmate Services Inc., USA Idol Division. It's time for the pack to meet the unsigned Playmates, but things don't go as well as planned.
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Chapter 3 - Following Instincts
Dealing with the aftermath of the accident, Bangtan Pack reacts upon instincts, some more than others. Y/n learns a few new things.
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Chapter 4 - First Case of Alpha Space
Y/n may call herself a Hybrid supporter but never has she dealt with something like this. Y/n gets to see firsthand some of what an Alpha is like when they get a little lost in their instincts.
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Chapter 5 - Heated Discussions (M)
Y/n didn't want to cause trouble, but that seemed to be all she did. However, Bangtan Pack thinks sometimes the trouble is worth it.
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Chapter 6 - A Proposition for You
Things get intense for Bangtan Pack and Y/n, but not in a good way. Meeting the doctor tonight has bigger implications than Y/n thought was possible.
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Chapter 7 - Is This a Joke
After proposing to Y/n the option to become their playmate, the Bangtan Pack struggles to convince her to accept their Prime Alpha's offer. Will Y/n be persuaded or will she run from Fate unknowingly?
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Chapter 8 - Time to Tell the Family Pack (M)
While the Bangtang Pack is excited to have Y/n join as a "Play"mate, that may not be the case for her family pack.
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Chapter 9 - Shadows of the Past (M)
It becomes clear that pack dynamics can vary from pack to pack. This sometimes leads to interesting reactions. It's where the past can be seen influencing the present that will shadow all.
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Chapter 10 - A Date in the Right Direction
After the visit from Dr. Blackwell, some of the Bangtan pack start behaving differently. Is it a good thing or a bad thing? Maybe the eldest Alpha has some insight. (This chapter is Seokjin-centric in honor of his coming home from the military)
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Chapter 11 - Just a Staff Member
Y/n stands up for someone else, and everything starts falling apart. Last night was a dream but the reality of the situation finally hits.
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Chapter 12 - Everyone Deserves a Second Chance
It's time to make a choice that can make for an adventure or change y/n's life.
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Chapter 13 - Shall we?
It's time for the date with Namjoon. Getting ready becomes more fun than you think it could be with an unexpected surprise and new friends, but what happens as the night goes on?
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Chapter 14 - Does it Always End in Ruin?
Scenting in a car with the Prime Alpha goes better than expected, but once they return to the pack house, things take a turn for Y/n.
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WARNINGS FOR CHAPTER 15! This is a heavy chapter. Please read before reading the full chapter. Thank you 💜💜💜
Chapter 15 - The Pack Meeting and Troubled Pasts
Y/n shares her history with Bangtan Pack and finds she isn't the only one with a dark family life.
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American Mate (16) - We are Alphas
Bangtan Pack discusses what to do next, followed by Namjoon's attempt to correct things.
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As a paid member of my Patreon, you can read extra spicy smutty scenes and additional content, and have early release benefits for each chapter.
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TO BE CONTINUED...
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Reader Asks
Has the Bangtan Pack been with a woman before?
How would The Bangtan Pack react to finding Y/n dancing?
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Additional Content
Meet Alpha Giant Flemish Rabbit Jungkook's Family
Patreon Artwork Poll Results (1)
American Mate (5) - Extended Scenting Scene (M)
American Mate (8) - Extended/ Additional Scene (M)
Take a look at Chapter 12, Hobi's Fire Red Suit.
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yoyowrites · 8 months ago
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omega shen jiu that is trying very hard to contain his nesting instinct. it leading to him staring intensely at shen yuan, internally fighting himself because on one hand hand he wants to scent and bundle up the beta, on the other he would rather die than give in to his instincts. so every once in a while, he just stands and glares at shen yuan with his hand occasionally twitching but not moving otherwise. shen yuan goes between ignoring the omega and occasionally teasing him
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writingoddess1125 · 21 days ago
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To the Frontlines
Kofi Request - Possible pt. 2 if they want to continue
If you want NSFW (5$) or SFW (2$) like this click here helps me be less of a broke bitch
Alpha König x Omega GNReader
Also Not doing the Medic thing! We can do better then that people!
Your scent used is based off this perfume! (Psss It's the stuff Rihanna wears ;3 I'll always hook ya up with a dupe too! Here)
Slow, Funny and Sweet Baby! No Warnings
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It was the sound of the wonderful 4:30 am wakeup call that forced your eyes open, once more while it was dark out and everyone felt groggy.
Rolling up quickly from your bunk you saw the wave of the other few omegas in the space also get up- as they shuffle quickly to get to the showers and dress for the day.
It was fortunate at least that the Omega sectioned off barracks had its own spaces and there wasn't a lot of you so there was room for you all to at least separate out some, allowing some who needed it to nest or just to create general spacing.
Even if you had to fight over the 9 or so other irritated omegas you had the pleasure of sharing the space with to the showers- Always the unpleasant mix of scents washing over the washroom that made it smell like a candle from hell.
You quick to jump into the showers, hoping to catch the little hot water left and dress even faster. The assault of scents however soon started to disappear by the scent neutralizing patches all Omegas were required to wear being slapped onto everyone.
Sure it was encouraged for all those who had a secondary gender to wear scent patches to make sure grounds were neutral and no adverse effects. However in truth it was mainly enforced on the Omegas, not bothering to enforce it on the other half cause- Well fuck you I guess.
Slapping on the patches for the day you can't help but sigh, feeling already the uncomfortable chaff of the adhesive-
Was it fair?
No-
Where you going to challenge it?
Hell No-
They paid you and told you to scram to do your job.. And well they paid very well so you had no problem with taking this L.
You feel a tap to your shoulder as you button up your coat turning to see your bunk buddy and the closest person here on base looking at you.
Aaron was a stocky rather tall fellow, Pretty however- dark curly hair, pretty hazel eyes and dark brown skin. Most would assume a beta however they would be wrong by the damn near assault of roses, coffee and sugar when he took of those patches. He giving you a sarcastic smile as he held out the second paper cup shaking it playfully.
"Here are your suppressants sexy-"
"Oh thank you bestie, What did you spit in it?"
"Only a little-" He winked, The two of you smile and laugh a little taking the issued suppressants as you toss both your little cups in the trash. These where some of the few fun moments you got in your job here at KorTac, Breakfast which was always a bit more special since your bestie was behind the counter and the few moments before you are stationed in the big steel weapons box you call your job.
You'd never see combat, but as one of the weapon technicians you did the work for those who did. Which was as boring as it sounded- even with the charmer that was your sergeant always liking to talk down to you and most people in the little hellhole you all shared.
As if on cue a box of weapons where set down Infront of you, Still reeking of rotting blood. Looking up at your sergeant getting the morning scowl you were so used to at this point.
"Box for the day-"
"Thank you Sgt. Vega.."
You can only mumble as you start to pull out each item, mindful of the aftermath of whatever battle they had seen. Oh if those checks didn't have quite a few zeros behind them you were sure you'd have walked out of here by now...
Cleaning each blade, taking apart each pistol as you cleaned, put it all back together then tweaked it to work perfectly. Then chucking it into a bag or box depending on who it was getting sent to.
Day in and day out, Shuffling through the stacks of deadly metal. As the next box was set down Infront of you, already seeing the large rifle sticking out clearly ignoring any sort of gun safety and just ready to meet you-
"Is that a gun or just happy to see me hm?"
Dryly smiling to your own lackluster little joke, Quick to work you start to take apart the rifle- It only taking a soft roll in your palm as you recognize it immediately as 'That One'
Glancing next to your station leaned against you confirmed- bloody sledgehammer. There was always one bag of weapons that was always assigned to you. Seemingly whoever it was being picky and preferring one set of hands on their things..
You didn't have a clue who they were- however the fact that there was a sledgehammer included with the weapons made you not willing or wanting to find out...
But honestly this bag wasn't all bad really- Actually one of your favorites.
Especially since you got at least small moments of catching a fairly nice scent of what seemed to be and alpha on it. It was faint of course, Under the oil, the smell of blood and bullets. A nice spicy, fruit and booze smell- with a bit of vanilla. It reminded you of the nice festive alcohol you'd find in a store around the holidays.
However it was always short lived, especially since you had to clean it. Sad but as is life-
Whistling a bit to yourself you go through the bag, taking the extra time to get everything a bit more organized then what you'd so for the extra bags you had.
As you're finishing up the rifle you heart Sgt, Vega scream out to you.
"(Y/N)! I need that bag ready!"
"But, I just got it!-" You're cut off quickly by her shrill voice.
"Now!-"
"Son of a- Sorry I'm coming! God damn-"
You're fast to finish up your task cursing under your breath, checking the sight and making sure every screw and fastening was perfect. Looking it over quickly you jump up, feeling the snag on your wrist on the rifle, however quick to rush to the metal window of the armory where your boss is.
"Got it"
You mumble, Handing off the bag and hammer to your sergeant the women glaring at you for daring to make her wait as she walked out with the laundry list of weapons to deliver herself.
As you head back to your station you see where your wrist snagged, a small rip in the patch probably caught on the sight since it had been the last thing you'd touched- Changing out the patch from your wrist mildly annoyed now you return to your station mumbling under your breath.
Non the wiser at the snowball you had started...
On the other side of the base far from the were you continued to work. König sat in his office, his large form hunched over the stacks files on his desk as he looked over the details of his upcoming mission, Grumbling in his native language over the details listed as he bounced his leg slightly in thought.
A soft knock snapping him from his thoughts- Already smelling the Sergeant from the armory before she walked into the office as gently as possible.
"Colonel, I have yo-"
"Leave them there. You're dismissed Sergeant. "
He didn't even bother glancing up nor letting her finish her sentence, gesturing to the spot he always had them put it and waving her off just as fast. Already feeling the clear upset from the sergeant as she did as asked- König waiting till he heard that door close did he look up, sighing a bit to himself.
König was not in a good mood- and while he normally would have humored the women at least someone who had very clearly hinted she was willing to climb his 'corporate ladder'- He didn't feel like it today.
His nerves were a bit shot, wound up and he felt ready to snap his teeth at anyone if they came across his path at this point. Flexing his hands he looked to the bag in the corner spot.
It was a small ritual he had before missions. Something that allowed his mind to settle a bit.
He'd always look over each item in his office. A bit of paranoia and anxiety in the idea of someone possibly handing him poor items before he went out to whatever dangerous mission he was thrown into. That and it just gave him something to fidget with..
However he had started to be more lax about it.
It was clear most of the time it was the same hand doing his repairs, the sight to his liking, cleaned well and it was set up always the same in his bag. He still checked them of course but it was more for comfort.
Sliding over the bag he started his little ritual, humming a bit as he checked each item that would go into his vest or hands. Each gun, knife, the sledgehammer he sported on his back. Finally the rifle which he looked over- As he went to slide it back something caught his nose on the gun in hand.
His head twitched to the side a bit-
König rolled the empty rifle in his palm slowly looking it over, narrowing his eyes a bit as he saw on the corner a bit of white, clearly a part of a patch that managed to snag deep enough. Grabbing it between his fingers he rolled it a bit, Catching the scent once again between his warmed fingers.
He had to swallow the literal growl that wanted to erupt from his throat then and there.
Quickly pulling his mask up almost frantic he breathed it the tiny strip of gauze far more deeply exhaling softly to let the taste settle on his tongue.
Almost Peachy, Light flowers, Marshmallows and a bit of citrus.
Oh it was divine..
"Scheiße.."
He mumbled, eyes almost rolling at the tiny scratch of gauze. It made his mouth water, chest flutter and that feral part of his brain scratch at the walls he had long since locked up.
Truthfully it had been been quite some years he'd even gotten a scratch at that inner Alpha, Being jacked on enough suppressants to kill a bear at this point so he wasn't much of a liability- Sure the characteristics still were there however the need to fall into that mindset of wanting to mark, breed and so forth had been locked up behind pills shaped bars.
It had even been years really since he'd even sleep with an omega, let alone feel so undone by anyone.. All his conquest had always been either alphas or tough and tumble betas. Someone sturdy and easy to let go at a moments notice.
But this was different..
He ran his tongue over his sharpened teeth, jaw twitching purely by the thought of whoever this scent belonged to- really just soaking it in. König couldn't help but chuckle darkly under his breath. This little thing was managing to break nearly 20 or so years of suppressed instincts in minutes.
'Impressive little Omega..'
Racking through his brain a little as he continued to roll the fabric between his fingers. Letting the scent linger for as long as he could as he thought quietly to himself, looking at the weapons with a crooked smile-
"Interesting.."
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starlit-writer · 3 months ago
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in sickness and in health, ch. 2 - alpha!simon riley x omega!reader
here is chapter two!!!! in writing this chapter, i realized that this little fic has taken on a complete life of its own that i never anticipated, and will have many, many more chapters to come, so if you want to be added to a tag list to make sure you stay up-to-date, let me know in the replies! eat well, lovelies <3
as always, if you want to understand more about my omegaverse au, you can look at my masterpost here, and it'll help explain all of the intricacies that may or may not be explained well enough in these short-form fics!
word count: 4,270 chapter one chapter three masterlist ao3 link
You slept. And you slept. And you slept.
But, Simon held tight to his promise to you. He didn’t leave your side for any longer than necessary, and necessary held a very… loose definition to Simon as you laid on his bed, all but comatose. In the three days since you had shown up at his door, Simon had left the bed maybe five times to relieve himself, and a handful of other times just to growl somebody away from the door who had missed the memo that Simon and you would be out of commission for the foreseeable future. The rest of the time, he just laid next to you, curled up like a guard dog. Sometimes he talked to you, but most of the time, he was just watching your chest as it rose up and down, his fingers resting delicately over your wrist to ensure your heart was still beating. That you were still here.
It had been three days. And you still hadn’t woken up. The worry in Simon’s heart was becoming hard to keep down, and the neglect of his own body was starting to catch up with him. He hadn’t done any work, hadn’t showered, and had barely eaten the food that the team had left at the door. He was going insane with panic, with fear, at the thought that he lost you. That he had killed you.
He never knew what he had had until it was gone.
Simon was spiraling. He sat in the corner of the bed, making sure to keep his thigh pressed against you, but his head was in his hands as his fingers tugged relentlessly at his dirty blond strands. It was his fault. All of this was. He didn’t know how to be a good alpha, let alone any sort of partner that he knew you needed him to be. He was so completely lost in his own tortured mind that he didn’t even hear Soap as he slipped into the room.
It wasn’t until the tray full of food that Soap was carrying clattered to the ground that Simon even noticed he was in there. Simon’s head snapped up, his hackles rising as a vicious growl ripped through his throat. The sound was a clear warning to get the fuck away from him and his mate, but all Soap did was roll his eyes in complete exasperation and take a step closer to your sleeping form.
Simon’s growl intensified at the intrusion, his muscles rippling in preparation to fight. It didn’t matter that this was Johnny, one of the few people on this earth that Simon trusted wholeheartedly. His mate was dying, and Simon’s alpha was tearing itself apart, identifying anything and anyone that got too close to you as a threat. But, the other alpha ignored him. The only sign that Simon got that Soap even heard his posturing was the low, return growl that left Soap’s lips as they curled up to reveal his alpha fangs.
“Haud yer wheesht,” Soap grumbled in reply as his hand came up to rest on your shoulder, his thumb rubbing gently over the joint. Soap’s focus was entirely on you, completely ignoring the massive bulk of Simon just on the other side of you. Soap and you had always been friends, and you had sought comfort in him over the last few months of Simon’s neglect. Guilt gnawed at him that he wasn’t enough, that he couldn’t help prevent the bond sickness from stealing you away, but that guilt was far overshadowed by the rage he felt towards Simon.
“How could ye ever do this to ‘er, huh?” Soap muttered, the words low and dangerous as he finally glanced up at Simon. “She was good. More tha’ good. She was a great fuckin’ medic, better teammate, and now look at ‘er.”
Simon’s alpha growled in response. He knew he had fucked up, destroyed you in ways he was only beginning to comprehend. He would take you yelling at him, telling him how shit he was, but hearing it from Soap, another alpha, was a whole new level of shame and guilt. Simon wasn’t built to hold this much emotion, never taught how to properly deal with his feelings, and he was at his breaking point. His rage was rising, like water that had been left on the stove too long without proper supervision, the bubbles breaking free over the steely confines of the walls he had built around his heart.
The very same confines that had kept him from you.
Simon’s eyes zeroed in on Soap’s hand on your shoulder, and he lost it. He scrambled off of the bed, his movements uncoordinated due to the lack of sleep and sustenance, but still full of the undeniable power that lived within the massive bulk of the alpha. He slapped Soap’s hand away, and grabbed at the straps of his tactical vest. Simon picked the smaller alpha up and spun to press him against the wall, Soap’s head cracking off the drywall. But, it wasn’t enough. Simon hated himself. Hated Soap. Hated everything that he could even remotely tie in as a factor to your comatose state on his bed. Simon gnashed his teeth in Soap’s face, pure, unbridled alpha rage pouring off of him.
Soap just smirked, completely unfazed.
“Oh, I see. Now you can be all protective over ‘er when she’s dying, aye? When it’s yer fuckin’ fault that she wasted away like this? You should’ve been better!” Soap was close to yelling now, his own hands coming up to Simon’s throat. Soap wasn’t going to kill him, no, the only thing that that would accomplish right now is causing more harm to you. But, dammit, if he wasn’t close.
Soap squeezed at Simon’s throat, his alpha claws digging into the mating bite on the side of the larger alpha’s throat. “I should rip that fuckin’ bite right off of ye, ye know that right?”
Simon roared, jerking his neck around to get Soap’s claws as far away as possible from the scent gland that held the imprint of your smaller omega fangs - the last thing truly tying him to you. He was far too gone with his rage, his alpha bursting against the confines of his skin, to even begin to formulate a response. All he could see was the red-hot haze of his rage, of his grief, the anguish that had settled so permanently into his bones over the last three days.
Soap grinned, a mean, sadistic thing that did little more than show off his alpha fangs. It was a challenge, an expression eerily similar to what a predator does when defending their territory. But you were not Soap’s territory. He knew that. He wasn’t trying to vye for your affection or to stake claim on you. His goal was single-minded: get Simon pissed enough to finally admit that he needs you, that he’ll fight for you, for your health, and that he’ll never abandon you this way again.
And if he wouldn’t? Well, Soap wasn’t looking for an omega of his own. Mainly just saw you as a constant in his life, in his pack, but he would single-handedly rip out that mating bite that glared, swollen and red from the strain of the bond, on the edge of Simon’s throat with his own claws and claim you as his own, if it meant fixing you, giving you some sort of stability.
“Ye did this to ‘er! Yer neglect, yer fuckin’ issues, made ‘er this way! All because your head was so far up your goddamned arse you couldn’t see it! She deserves better! She deserves an alpha who will take care of ‘er, not someone who will abandon her for months on end in hopes of getting blown to pieces!”
“I know!” Simon roared in response as he lifted Soap away from the wall again and slammed him back into it. “I know!” His grip on Soap started to falter as tears welled up in his eyes. He let go of Soap with one hand, the smaller alpha falling back to his feet on the ground as Simon scraped his hand across his face to prevent the tears from falling.
“I… I just… I don’t know how to do this, Johnny. It’s not like I grew up with a…” Simon trailed off, his voice thick with tears and regret as he completely let go of Soap to run his hands through his hair in anguish. “My father was an awful man. A horrendous example of an alpha. He… the things he did, Johnny, to me, to Tommy, to my poor fuckin’ mum… the only promise I made to myself when I left that place and let it burn to the ground was to never be like him. And that meant keeping myself as far away from any omega as I possibly could. I never wanted this! And then the brass gave that ultimatum, and shoved us together, and… and I sure as shit wasn’t gonna be the reason that she got kicked out of the place that she worked tooth and nail to get to! I didn’t know how to be an alpha! I didn’t know how to protect her, and I had no one to ask! I just… I… I just didn’t know…”
Soap stood against the wall, mouth agape as he looked down at the massive, trembling form of the man he considered his best friend. Somewhere in his monologue, Simon had completely collapsed onto his knees, his head back in his hands, but Soap was too busy listening to the raw, honest truth falling from Simon’s tear-stained lips to even begin to try and guess when it had happened. Soap was in shock. But, he was at even more of a loss at how to comfort the other alpha.
Soap crouched down beside Simon, his hand awkwardly, yet gently, patting his shoulder as Simon’s hulking form shook from the force of his silent tears, his agony. Soap sighed as he rubbed his other hand over the back of his own neck. What the fuck had he gotten himself into?
“Ghost, I… I think you need to go talk to Price. Maybe get in with the base therapist.”
Simon stiffened under Soap’s touch as those words left his mouth. He didn’t want to go talk to Price, even if he was his captain and a part of his pack. He didn’t want to have to admit to his failures to the same person who gave him orders, signed off on his paychecks. And a therapist? Yeah, he talked to a therapist, he’d just about be signing off on his own discharge forms.
Soap felt it. How his words affected Simon. He sighed again, a low rumble reverberating from his chest in an attempt to provide some comfort to the larger alpha. It was normally a move reserved for comforting a pup, or a distressed omega, but Soap was truly at a loss of what to do here. He had never seen Simon break down like this.
“Ghost, Price can help. He’s been with his bonnie lass for years, and they’re happy with pups runnin’ ‘round. Just… you can’t keep doin’ this to ‘er. And if that means you need direction, need to see how to be an alpha… at least talk to Price. She deserves an alpha who can be there for her, at the very least.”
Simon nodded slowly, wiping his hand across his face again. He felt weak, like a failure, but he knew he had to try.
You never knew what you had until it was gone.
Yeah, well, he knew now. And he wasn’t ever going to let it go again.
Simon lifted his head, his watery brown eyes meeting Soap’s determined baby blues. There was still anger in Soap’s eyes, but he was shoving it away. No point in kicking his friend while he was already down.
“I… I can’t just leave her here.”
“I’ll stay with her,” came Soap’s immediate response. You had sought solace in him over the last few months, and as another alpha from your pack, you would probably be the most comfortable with him around, even if your alpha was gone.
Hearing Soap’s immediate reply made something in Ghost’s alpha twist with distress, aching at the idea of another alpha taking care of his omega, even if it was another member of his pack. A low growl born of his alpha’s displeasure of the situation rumbled out of his throat for a moment before he quickly cut it off by clearing it. Simon knew this needed to be done, and sooner rather than later. He had to fix his ways, to see what it meant to truly be the type of alpha that you needed, that you deserved. But, before he agreed, he had to know one thing.
“Do you love her?”
Soap froze, his head rearing back slightly in shock. Did he love you? “What?”
“You heard me. Do you love her?”
“Simon, she’s a part of our pack. She always has been, even before you and her mated. So, yes, I love her, but not… not like that.”
Simon nodded slowly, his joints aching as he stood up to his full height again. Everything hurt. His muscles were sore from lack of movement, sleep, and nutrition, and his heart and soul felt as if they had been ripped to shreds. Your end of the bond felt like it had been shrouded in impenetrable inky blackness, which just made him feel even more empty. Gods, it used to annoy him to no end to feel your neverending presence in his mind, but now he would give anything, his own life, just to feel it again.
Soap breathed out a silent sigh of relief as he saw the acceptance in Simon’s nod. His best friend was going to be okay, both of you would be. He had to believe it. And, in classic Soap fashion, he couldn’t help but try to chip away the sour, somber mood in the room by cracking a joke.
“But, ye fuck it up again, and I really will rip that mating bite right out of ye, ye can bet on tha’.”
Simon glared at him, but it was the first bit of normalcy he had felt in… months. He shoved at Soap’s shoulder, but all it did was make the smaller alpha’s cocky smirk widen.
“Fuck off, Johnny,” Simon mumbled half-heartedly as he pulled off the tank top he had slipped on after you had fallen asleep, and he tucked it gently next to your head to ensure you still had his scent while he was gone. He ran a gentle, almost reverent finger down your cheek, smoothing an errant piece of your hair back behind your ear. He sighed softly, his guilt threatening to break free again, but he quickly stepped back from you and tugged on a sweatshirt. He glanced at Soap, his gaze glinting with a possessive protectiveness.
Soap, knowing exactly what was running through his mind, put his hands up in a placating manner.
“I won’ touch ‘er. Just don’ be gone too long, aye?”
Simon grumbled something under his breath but nodded, grabbing his keys and shoving them in his pocket before he opened the door. He paused in the open doorway with one last, longing glance back at you filled with all of the pain and regret and guilt swirling through his veins before he finally stepped through and shut the door behind him with a soft click.
He didn’t want to be here. To be doing this but he would, if it meant fixing you. He stood in front of Price’s office door, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he tried to muster up enough courage to knock. The light was on, so Simon knew Price was in there. Hopefully he was just doing paperwork, and not anything… else.
Simon sighed loudly, scraping a hand down his face before he shook out his arms. He just needed to open the door. And, you know, pour his heart and soul out to the Captain, but that would come after. However, he didn’t get the chance.
“You gonna stand out there all day or are you comin’ in?”
Shit. Simon squeezed his eyes shut for a moment as he took a deep breath. He could do this. For you, he could. He had to. He shouldered open the door, but he kept his gaze on the ratty red carpet of Captain Price’s office. Mmm, low-pile. Probably feel really scratchy on his face when Price inevitably-
“Ah, Simon. I’ve been expecting you.”
Fuck. Simon felt untethered, for lack of a better word. He couldn’t get a read on Price’s expression as the older, greying alpha moved his glasses off of the bridge of his nose and carefully folded the arms in to set them on the giant wooden desk in front of him. Simon made a point to keep his gaze away from the gouged out claw marks on the surface of the desk. Simon swallowed thickly and looked back down at the carpet in front of him. He had never had to ask for help before, at least, not like this. Not anything that meant showing his weakness, his losing hand, the fact that he’s a shit ass alpha.
“Uh, yeah. I… um, sir, I need… help.” Gods, kill him now.
“Yeah,” Price breathed out harshly as he stretched his arms back around his head. “Yeah, I’d say you do.”
Simon winced at Price’s words. He sounded like a disappointed father, or, at least, what Simon imagined a disappointed father would sound like, and he felt like he had been brought into the principal’s office after painting graffiti on the side of the building during recess. He finally brought his gaze up to the older Alpha, taking a deep breath before he spoke.
“Captain, listen, I-”
Price cut him off with a raise of his hand as he stood up. Simon watched with wide eyes as Price grabbed a cigar out of the humidor that had always laid on his desk. Price grabbed his lighter, and placed the cigar between his lips before he turned away from Simon and looked out the window in the back of his office. A few moments later, and Simon heard the shink of the lighter catching, and he watched as a thick plume of dark grey smoke rose above Price’s form.
“You should’ve come to me for help sooner.”
“I know.”
“Do you?” Price questioned, looking back at Simon over his shoulder.
“You’ve been running for years, Simon. Even before she came into the picture. And I let you. I shouldn’t have, but I kept hoping you would figure it out. And then, well, you didn’t. And then I watched you continue to close yourself off, to keep your distance. I watched as you brushed her off over, and over, and over again. And, I admit, as the pack leader, I should have stepped in. Should have forced you to stay on base and figure your shit out, but, tactically, it would’ve been a mistake to keep you here. So, we’re here now. What’s happened has happened. How are you going to fix it?”
Simon stood there, slack jawed and wide eyed as Captain John Price just essentially ripped down every single one of his defenses, his excuses, in one fell swoop. He wrung his hands in front of him, feeling exactly like he had been flayed open, all of his weaknesses and failures laid out in the open like intestines.
“I… I don’t know. That’s why I came here. I was looking for… pointers, I guess. Of how to be a better alpha- fuck, how to just be a good alpha. How to treat an omega. I wasn’t ever… I didn’t have good role models for that shit, and I just- well, Johnny said-”
“Will you actually listen?”
“What?”
Price took a deep inhale of the thick, grey smoke and held it as he turned to look at Simon face-on, studying Simon’s shaking form, the wild, lost look in his eyes, before he exhaled. Price kept his face schooled in a neutral expression, but he really did feel for Simon. He had once been a lost alpha like him, confused on how to even begin to take on the responsibility of an omega, how to take care of them. “If we have this conversation, will you actually take what I say into consideration? Or are you going to attempt for a few days, get frustrated, and then give up?”
Simon winced as Price continued to lay into him with that same cold, calculating gaze he used when discussing potential battle plans. Simon sighed softly, letting his head fall back to stare at the ceiling for a moment before he rolled his shoulders and looked at Price. “I have to fix this.”
“Is that a yes?”
“Yes.”
Price grinned around his cigar and sat back down at the desk, his fingers tracing idly over the claw marks in the surface of the wood. He gestured his arm out, inviting Simon to sit across from him. Simon squeezed into the chair, his large bulk making the chair creak in protest. He leaned back, trying to feign a confident, or at the very least, unaffected air, but all of his thoughts just kept coming back to you, his knee bouncing in a very distracting fashion as he fought every urge to just run back to his quarters, just to check on you.
Price smirked and steepled his hands in front of him, resting his chin on his thumbs. “You’re scared, ain’t ya?”
Simon nodded, biting down on his plush lower lip.
“Good. Means ya care. You’re just shit at showing it.”
Simon’s lips pressed into a thin line, but what could he do? He couldn’t protest the truth. He was already flayed open, might as well attempt to dissect and treat the diseased portions where he has been keeping all of his shit coping mechanisms.
“Did you ever court her?” Price asked, watching Simon skeptically. He could guess at the answer, as the relationship between you and Simon was far from traditional.
“No, I… Price, the brass gave us an ultimatum, you know that. I didn’t have time!”
“Not before, you didn’t, but what about after? You still could have courted her. Maybe then you would’ve trusted each other more, and we wouldn’t all be in this situation. Do you even know her favorite food? Flower? Song to dance to at 3 am in the kitchen? Color?”
With each question, Simon sank further and further into himself. He felt like the worst alpha on the planet. And, honestly, he probably was, or else you wouldn’t be still laying in his bed practically comatose.
Captain Price sighed and rubbed his thumb over the deep-set lines in his forehead. “Alright, well, those are good places to start, I guess, but… being an alpha isn’t all about gift giving and protecting. You have to listen to her. And I don’t just mean the words out of her mouth - although those are still very important - I also mean her pheromones. Her body language. Her microexpressions. All of the things she doesn’t say.”
“What!? How am I-”
Price put his hand up again to stop the tirade that he knew was about to come pouring out of Simon. “You pay attention. That’s it. It ain’t rocket science, Simon. You’ve led how many teams through how many missions? I’m sure you can figure out if one omega prefers dark or milk chocolate.”
Simon sighed loudly, the sound trailing off into a growl. He felt so stupid. He had been too focused on himself, on his own trauma and his own issues that he had completely neglected the bare minimum for you. He had so much to make up for. He slammed his forehead down into the desk in frustration, the force making the pens on the desk jump. “I should’ve just allowed the brass to kick me out. At least then she could’ve been forced to mate someone who could actually provide for her.”
Price shrugged, leaning back in his own chair as he puffed on his cigar. “No point in thinkin’ like that. You guys are mates, and that bond stayed together for a lot longer than I ever thought it would. That means somethin’, you know. So, you’ve really only got one option. You’ve gotta fix it. Listen to her. Pay attention. Make her feel cared for.”
Simon nodded, his forehead still pressed against the cold wood of the desk, but something Price said kept sticking in his brain, ruminating like a dog trying to lick peanut butter off of the roof of its mouth.
“That means something?” Simon asked, looking up at Price, skeptically looking for clarification.
Price just grinned and pretended to zip his mouth shut before waving Simon off. “Go back to your girl. If you still haven’t figured it out in a few weeks, come talk to me. But remember, court her. Especially after all of this. Show her you care. That you can be a good alpha.”
Simon furrowed his brow, not thrilled about not getting an answer about what Price meant, but got up from his seat. He had been dismissed, and all he wanted to do was get back to you.
Courting. Courting. Right. He could do that. Right?
tag list: @kerst666 @misscaller06 @letaliabane @sai-int @itsmeamysworld @massivescissorsthingperson @aeeliy
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liuhsng · 2 months ago
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✩ˎˊ˗ when fate calls ( psh ! )
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✩ˎˊ˗ part of the untouchable series | enhypen masterlist
⤷ pairing — sunghoon x fem!reader ⤷ word count— 20.6k ⤷ taglist for the series — open ! ⤷ warning/s — a/b/o au, foul language, slowburn, enemies to lovers trope, mentions of drinking and alcohol, heavy angst + tooth-rotting fluff, indenial!sunghoon, mentions of the other parts from this series, not proofread
✩ˎˊ˗ summary: as the eldest son of a powerful family, park sunghoon has always followed tradition, dedicating himself to his responsibilities. relationships never crossed his mind, his focus was on the life carefully planned for him. but then there was you, someone he had seen countless times yet never truly noticed until now. when realization dawned on him that you were his mate, it unsettled him in ways he couldn’t explain. it unsettled him in ways he couldn’t explain. the unexpeced idea of love terrified him, so he rejected the traditional courting that came with claiming an omega. but as his avoidance hurts you, the high and mighty alpha is forced to confront the truth he’s been running from: some things aren’t meant to be planned.
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Park Sunghoon stared at the untouched coffee sitting on the edge of his desk, its heat long gone, leaving behind an aroma that lingered in the air. The clock on the wall ticked softly, mocking him with its glowing digits, 3:14 A.M. He was supposed to be asleep hours ago, but here he was, hunched over stacks of neatly organized paperwork. His bedroom, once a place of rest, now served as an office.
As the eldest, it wasn’t just expected of him to succeed, it was demanded. Every report and signature carried the weight of the Park name. Sunghoon leaned back in his chair, his head tilting toward the ceiling, eyes heavy with exhaustion.
The faint ache in his temples grew sharper, but he ignored it, just as he ignored the way his inner Alpha growled in frustration. "You’re supposed to take care of yourself—for her," it growled. "How will you protect an Omega if you can’t even do this much?"
His jaw clenched as he let out a quiet scoff. “There is no Omega,” he muttered under his breath, as if saying it aloud would somehow silence the voice.
The thought of having a mate, someone who would rely on him, only added to his frustration. He was already drowning in expectations, chained to a life that had no room for distractions, let alone love.
but his inner alpha didn’t back down, the primal side of him rebelling against his neglect. it clawed at him, not with anger, but with frustration, urging him to stop, to rest, to breathe.
sunghoon shut his eyes briefly, a bitter laugh slipping out as he rubbed the back of his neck. the idea of prioritizing himself, of prioritizing someone else in the future, felt absurd. he didn’t have time to indulge in instincts or fantasies, not when there was a legacy to uphold.
he opened his eyes, his gaze falling to the cold coffee cup, his reflection faintly visible in the dark liquid. the alpha in him stirred again, growling low and dissatisfied, but this time sunghoon ignored it entirely. with a sharp sigh, sunghoon pushed the cup aside, the clock’s ticking growing louder in the silence. the hours dwindled, and morning was creeping closer, but he knew sleep wasn’t an option.
there was work to be done, and park sunghoon never left anything unfinished.
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Sunghoon ran a tired hand down his face, sighing as his bloodshot eyes scanned the even larger pile of paperwork that greeted him. As the student council’s marketing director, his responsibilities seemed endless, and the fluorescent light overhead only made the mess on his desk look worse.
It was 6 A.M., and he was the first in the council room. Of course he was. He had made it a habit to arrive early, more out of necessity than enthusiasm.
A brief pang of guilt crossed his mind as he remembered his sister. He hadn’t been able to wait for her like he usually did, leaving the house before dawn without a word. “I’ll have to apologize later,” he muttered to himself, though the corners of his lips twitched upward in a humorless smirk.
Knowing his sister, she was probably already in Sunoo’s car by now, laughing about something with the Alpha. It didn’t help that Sunoo wasn’t just his best friend. The boy with the pink hair was also her Alpha, a relationship that Sunghoon had begrudgingly accepted but couldn’t help but feel protective about.
The thought made him snort under his breath. Of course, she’d be fine; Sunoo never missed an opportunity to step in, no matter how early it was.
The sound of the heavy, wooden doors swinging open pulled him from his thoughts. Jay walked in first, his tie already loose and his uniform jacket slung over his shoulder. The Alpha paused mid-step, his eyes narrowing as he took in Sunghoon’s slouched posture.
“Dude, you look like shit,” Jay said bluntly, tossing his bag on his own desk.
Sunghoon didn’t bother looking up. “Good morning to you too,” he replied dryly, his voice as flat as his expression.
Jake followed close behind, a half-eaten breakfast sandwich in hand. He took one look at Sunghoon and immediately stopped chewing. “Holy shit, did you even sleep?” Jake asked, his tone laced with disbelief. He gestured vaguely at Sunghoon’s face. “You look like a ghost.”
“Thanks,” Sunghoon deadpanned, leaning back in his chair as he crossed his arms. “Really needed to hear that.”
Jay snorted, leaning against his table. “You know, for someone who’s supposed to be a pureblooded, strong Alpha, you’re doing a great job of looking half-dead.”
Sunghoon gave them both a sharp glare but didn’t have the energy to retort. Instead, he pinched the bridge of his nose, groaning at the headache that was forming. “I’m fine,” he muttered, though the dark circles under his eyes said otherwise.
“Yeah, sure,” Jay quipped, grabbing a stack of paperwork that was messily sitting on top of his table. “Keep telling yourself that, man.”
Jake raised an eyebrow, still looking skeptical. “You’re not going to drop dead on us, right? Because I’m not carrying your heavy ass to the nurse’s office.”
“I’m fine,” Sunghoon repeated, though even he wasn’t convinced by the words.
Jay exchanged a look with Jake, both Alphas sharing a sigh before Jay set his own paperwork down on the desk once again. “You know, if you die,” Jay began with a mocking grin, his tone more teasing than serious, “you do realize you’re going to leave all of this on your sister’s shoulders, right? She’ll probably curse your name for eternity.”
“Or possibly your mate,” Jake chimed in, his voice casual as he gestured toward Sunghoon. “You know, the one you’re supposed to be taking care of in the future by not working yourself into an early grave?”
Sunghoon stiffened at the mention of a mate, his jaw tightening. He hated when they brought it up, and Jake knew it. “I don’t have a mate,” he said coldly, his gaze darkening as he turned to the next set of papers.
Jay opened his mouth to add another comment, but before he could speak, a new voice cut through the room.
“Yeah, as if,” Heeseung’s voice drawled from the doorway, his tone laced with amusement.
He was leaning casually on the wooden door frame, arms crossed as he looked at Sunghoon. “He runs away from any Omega he sees. Poor guy probably wouldn’t know what to do if his mate actually showed up.”
Jake snorted, leaning on his own desk as he tossed his sandwich wrapper into the trash. “He’d probably pass out on the spot,” he added with a grin.
“Or just bury himself in more paperwork,” Jay said, shaking his head. “Honestly, Sunghoon, you’re making all of us pureblooded Alphas look bad.”
Sunghoon glared at the three of them, his annoyance visible. “If you’re all done wasting my time, I have work to do,” he muttered, his voice sharp as he pointedly ignored the way Heeseung’s comment bothered him more than it should.
But Heeseung wasn’t finished. “You know, it’s funny,” he mused, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “For someone so obsessed with rules and traditions, you’re awfully quick to ignore the most important one.”
“I have no time for this,” Sunghoon snapped, his tone colder now, though the way his pen stilled in his hand betrayed his frustration. His eyes stayed glued to the paperwork in front of him, refusing to meet Heeseung’s knowing gaze.
“No time for what?” the older Alpha challenged, his voice calm but laced with amusement. He stepped further into the room, his smirk deepening as he leaned casually against the side of his desk. “No time for the idea of a mate? No time for the Omega who’s meant to balance out that storm in your head? Or is it just no time for things you can’t control?”
“I said, drop it,” Sunghoon growled, his Alpha instincts flashing briefly in his tone as he clenched his jaw. His fingers gripped the pen so tightly it looked like it might snap in his hand.
Heeseung raised an eyebrow but didn’t back down. “I’m just saying,” he continued, his tone now more neutral, “if you keep running from it, you’re only going to make it worse. You think ignoring it will keep things normal the way you want it to?”
Sunghoon’s chest rose and fell as he took a deep breath, his irritation now mixed with something deeper, something he didn’t want to acknowledge.
He glanced briefly at the clock, as if that would give him an escape, before returning to his work. “I don’t run from anything,” he said quietly.
Heeseung’s scent spiked up then, as if challenging Sunghoon. The sharp scent of coffee and leather surrounding Sunghoon spiked in response, tension building between the two pureblooded Alphas as the room seemed to pulse with an unspoken challenge.
But Heeseung tilted his head, studying Sunghoon for a moment. “Whatever you say,” he said finally, his smirk softening into a faint smile.
“But don’t come crying to us when it all catches up to you.” With that, he pushed off the desk, casually moving the placard on his own desk that read Vice President, Lee Heeseung, sliding it to the side as he stood up, making it clear that he wasn’t going to stay much longer.
Heeseung strode toward the door, hands casually shoved into his pockets, his movements deliberate but effortless. Just before he left, he threw a glance over his shoulder at Sunghoon. “See you later, Park,” he called, his voice light but carrying an unmistakable edge.
“I mean, he had a point,” came a new voice from the doorway, breaking the silence. Their gaze snapped up, and Sunghoon saw Sunoo leaning casually against the frame, his usual carefree demeanor somehow at odds with the tense atmosphere.
The pink-haired Alpha’s arm was slung over his sister’s shoulder, and despite the casualness of the gesture, Sunghoon couldn’t help but feel annoyed at the sight of it. Sunoo didn’t drop his arm but instead moved it to hold her hand, intertwining their fingers as if marking his claim on her.
Sunghoon clenched his jaw, his eyes narrowing as he watched them. “Right, you’re mated to my sister,” he said, the words coming out almost like a warning as his gaze flicked from Sunoo to his sister.
Sunoo grinned, unfazed by the glare. “Yeah, well, we did kind of notice you were a little… tense. Thought we'd come and check on you.”
“How long have you two been standing there?” Sunghoon asked, his voice laced with a hint of exhaustion. His patience was already running thin after the exchange with Heeseung, and now this.
Sunoo shrugged, his smile widening as he stepped further into the room, his mate right beside him. “Long enough to hear your conversation,” Sunoo replied, his voice light.
“And to know you’re not fooling anyone,” Sunghoon's sister added, her tone teasing but with a hint of seriousness. “Not even your inner Alpha, by the way.” She shrugged, as if the comment was an afterthought, but it hit right where it mattered.
Sunghoon glared at them both, irritation flashing in his eyes. He wanted to deny it, to brush it off as just another conversation about his future, but deep down, he knew they were right.
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The hallway seemed to clear instinctively as the student council made their way through. A group of powerful pureblooded Alphas, they carried themselves with the kind of confidence and authority that left no room for doubt about their status.
Ni-ki, ever energetic, walked in front, his eyes filled with curiosity as he turned to Jake. “So, about the proposals under the secretary committee…” he began, his voice full of interest. “Do you think there’s anything the public relations committee can help with?” Ni-ki’s gaze flickered to Jake's tablet, whose fingers were drumming absently on the screen.
Jake looked up from the screen, considering the question for a moment. “You guys could help with the promotions. We need the best PR support for this one.”
“Right,” Ni-ki nodded, clearly processing the info. “I’ll talk to them about the promotions then. We’ll get it done.”
Meanwhile, Heeseung and Jungwon were having their own little debate, their voices rising in the back as they argued about something entirely unrelated to council work. “I’m telling you, that new pheromone perfume? It’s garbage. They’re marketing it like it’ll solve everything,” Heeseung said, shaking his head.
Jungwon chuckled, shaking his head. “Garbage or not, some Betas are eating it up. You can’t deny it’s working.”
Heeseung rolled his eyes. “Yeah, keep telling yourself that.”
Trailing just a step behind, Sunoo and Jay passed a football between them, their movements smooth and practiced. “Why are they always like this?” Sunoo muttered, his gaze flickering to the pair ahead.
Jay shrugged, catching the ball effortlessly before tossing it back. “It’s entertaining. Besides, this is tame for them.”
Sunghoon, walking a bit apart from the group, scrolled through his tablet with furrowed brows. His father had sent over another set of files, and while he was used to the constant influx of work, it didn’t make it any less exhausting.
“Seriously, Jungwon, you’re impossible,” Heeseung muttered, shaking his head as he dodged Jungwon’s attempt to nudge him.
“Not like you have a choice,” Jungwon teased, flashing a mischievous grin.
Behind them, Sunoo caught the football mid-air and smirked. “I bet Heeseung’s just mad because Jungwon actually has a point for once.”
Jay chuckled. “Don’t push it. You know how he gets when he’s losing.”
Their banter continued, but Sunghoon remained in his own bubble, his fingers scrolling mechanically over the screen. That was until a familiar voice called out.
“Jake!”
The group collectively slowed, all their attention flicking to you as you approached. Jake stopped in his tracks, lowering his tablet to meet your gaze.
“Hey,” you said, slightly out of breath. “I need your help with something.”
Jake’s brows furrowed slightly. “What’s up?”
You handed him your tablet. “It’s about the proposal breakdown you sent. The third column—again, it’s all messed up, and I can’t figure out why.”
Jake blinked and then laughed softly, shaking his head. “That thing’s cursed.”
You groaned. “Please tell me you can fix it.”
“Of course.” Jake started tapping on your screen, walking alongside you as he explained the error. You nodded along, grateful for his patience.
Behind you, Sunoo and Jay exchanged a glance, their conversation fading as they tuned into yours. Sunoo tossed the ball back absently. “They’re a bit too comfortable, don’t you think?”
Jay smirked faintly, his tone teasing but light. “Maybe Jake’s just that charming.”
Sunghoon’s jaw tightened, his fingers pausing on the screen as he forced himself not to glance in your direction. Something about the way you walked so effortlessly into their group, completely unfazed, grated on his nerves. His inner Alpha stirred, but he pushed the feeling down.
Jungwon, noticing the way Sunghoon’s scent subtly shifted, leaned toward Heeseung. “You smell that?” he whispered, a sly grin forming.
Heeseung, ever the observant one, smirked knowingly. “Oh, I smell it alright.”
Sunghoon’s eyes flicked up briefly, landing on you and Jake. He quickly looked back down at his tablet, though the irritation bubbling under the surface didn’t fade.
“You good, man?” Jay called out, the football now tucked under his arm.
“I’m fine,” Sunghoon muttered, his voice clipped.
“Yeah, just approach me whenever you need help with that,” Jake said, his tone casual as he handed your tablet back. A small, easy smile tugged at the corners of his lips, the kind that made it impossible to feel tense around him.
You mirrored his smile, genuinely grateful. “Thanks, Jake. I’ll let you know if anything else comes up.”
Turning your attention to Ni-ki, who was walking just slightly ahead, you called out, “Oh, and Ni-ki, I already mentioned the pending tasks to Jake earlier. I think some members of the secretary committee might be able to lend a hand if you’re short on people for logistics.”
Ni-ki glanced back at you, surprised but clearly impressed. “Really? That’d be a huge help. Thanks, (Y/N).”
So you were close to Ni-ki too? Sunghoon’s grip on his tablet tightened slightly, his jaw ticking as he skimmed the lines of text that no longer registered. His focus wasn’t on the files his father had sent him anymore; it was on you. You were supposed to be under Jake’s committee, and yet here you were, chatting easily with Ni-ki like you belonged in every conversation.
Jake noticed the subtle exchange and shook his head with a playful scoff. “You’re getting way too independent for my liking, Nishimura,” he teased, shooting the youngest Alpha a pointed look. “You’re consulting (Y/N) without even running it by me first? Seriously?”
Ni-ki smirked, unfazed by Jake’s mock scolding. “(Y/N)’s good at this stuff. Besides, teamwork, right?” He threw Jake’s own words back at him, grinning.
You laughed, shaking your head at their banter. “Don’t worry, Jake. You’re still the boss. Ni-ki just wanted to cover his bases, and I figured it couldn’t hurt to get a head start.”
“See?” Ni-ki said, raising a brow at Jake. “Efficiency. Maybe you should try it sometime.”
Before Jake could retort, Sunghoon cleared his throat, a sharp sound that cut through the light-hearted conversation like a blade. Everyone stopped talking almost instantly, turning their attention toward him.
“My next class is just around this corner,” Sunghoon said, his voice calm but clipped, as if he wasn’t in the mood to entertain any further distractions.
His gaze briefly flickered to you, unreadable yet heavy, before he shifted his attention back to the tablet in his hands. Without another word, he began walking ahead, leaving the group behind.
Jay and Sunoo exchanged glances, the teasing smirks they’d been wearing moments ago replaced by something more knowing. Sunoo raised an eyebrow at Jay, who shrugged, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
“Interesting,” Jay muttered under his breath, loud enough for Sunoo to hear but quiet enough to avoid catching Sunghoon’s attention.
Sunoo nodded slightly, his lips twitching in amusement as he leaned closer to Jay. “Very interesting.”
You, oblivious to the subtle exchange between the two Alphas, kept walking alongside Jake, still completely engrossed in the conversation. “Anyway, just let me know if there’s anything else I can help with. I don’t want to overstep, but I figured I might as well be useful where I can.”
Jake chuckled, his laid-back demeanor putting you at ease. “Overstep? You? Nah, you’re just making my job easier. Keep it up, (Y/N).”
Meanwhile, Sunghoon, now a few steps ahead of the group, tried to keep his focus on the files displayed on his tablet. But no matter how hard he tried, his thoughts kept drifting back to you—walking too close to Jake, smiling too easily at his jokes, and being too comfortable in a group of Alphas where Sunghoon felt like you stood out the most.
His inner Alpha stirred uneasily, frustrated and annoyed at the pull you had over him. He hated how it made him feel, how he couldn’t seem to control the way his senses sharpened whenever you were nearby. His scent of coffee and leather spiked faintly as he clenched his jaw, pushing the feelings down as best he could.
Heeseung, noticing the slight change in Sunghoon’s posture and scent, smirked to himself but didn’t say a word. Jungwon, however, nudged Heeseung with his elbow, his expression smug.
“Called it,” Jungwon whispered, earning a chuckle from Heeseung.
You, still entirely unaware of the tension you were unknowingly creating, glanced toward Sunghoon’s retreating figure for a moment, a small frown of curiosity crossing your face before you turned back to Jake. “Do you think he’s okay?” you asked, your voice tinged with concern.
Jake glanced ahead, following your gaze to where Sunghoon had disappeared around the corner. “He’s fine,” he replied, though there was a knowing edge to his tone. “He just takes things a little too seriously sometimes. Don’t worry about him.”
But you did. You couldn’t help it.
And neither could Sunghoon.
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The classroom buzzed faintly with the low hum of people talking and the scratching of pens on paper. Sunghoon sat by the window, his tablet propped up in front of him, displaying spreadsheets and documents his father had sent over earlier, but his eyes weren’t on them. Instead, they were fixed on the gray sky outside, his thoughts wandering far from budget allocations and meeting agendas.
You.
You’d been on his mind since lunch, and no matter how much he tried to push the thought of you away, it kept resurfacing and demanding his attention. You’d always been around, working under Jake in the secretary committee. He knew you, he had seen you countless times in meetings and events.
But you’d never lingered in his thoughts before. So why now? Why did the sight of you walking beside Jake earlier make something in his chest tighten uncomfortably?
The faintest hint of honey and lilac lingered in his memory, soft but intoxicating. He swore he could still smell it even now, though he knew it was impossible. Your scent—it clung to his thoughts.
His jaw clenched, and his brows furrowed as he tapped his pen against the desk. He didn’t understand it. There was something about you that had his Alpha instincts stirring, clawing at the edges of his mind. His wolf, a part of him he usually kept tightly controlled, was restless.
“Mr. Park,” his professor’s voice cut through his thoughts.
Sunghoon blinked, snapping his gaze toward the front of the room. The professor was staring at him, waiting for an answer to a question he hadn’t heard.
For a moment, the room seemed to hold its breath, his classmates glancing between him and the professor. But then Sunghoon straightened in his seat, his expression calm as he answered, “The proposed budget allocation for next semester’s extracurricular activities needs to account for inflation trends. That’s why the margin was adjusted to five percent.”
The professor raised a brow, nodding approvingly. “Correct, Mr. Park. As expected.”
Sunghoon’s classmates exchanged looks, some impressed, others annoyed, but he ignored them. His body was here, in this classroom, answering questions and keeping up appearances, but his mind? His mind was with you.
The bell rang, snapping him out of his thoughts. He packed his things quickly, stepping out into the hallway where Jungwon was waiting for him, leaning casually against the wall.
“Took you long enough,” Jungwon teased, stepping beside him as they walked toward their next meeting.
Sunghoon didn’t answer immediately, his thoughts still tangled. Jungwon glanced at him, his brows furrowing slightly. “You good?”
“Fine,” Sunghoon muttered, his tone clipped.
They turned a corner, and Sunghoon’s steps halted for just a moment. There you were, standing a few feet away, chatting with Jungwon and Sunoo’s mates. You nodded at something one of them said, a small smile gracing your lips as you gestured excitedly with your hands.
Sunghoon’s chest tightened again, that unfamiliar feeling stirring in the pit of his stomach. His wolf bristled, the instinctive urge to step closer, to claim what was his. But he shoved it down, locking it away behind the mask of indifference he’d perfected over the years.
You glanced up, your eyes meeting his briefly. Without saying anything, you gave Jungwon a small nod, silently acknowledging him. Sunghoon caught the faint smile you sent his way before your attention returned to the conversation in front of you.
“Looks like we’re all heading to the same place,” Jungwon said lightly, his tone casual as he nudged Sunghoon forward.
Sunghoon didn’t respond, his grip tightening around his backpack strap as he forced himself to move. You were close, too close. He could hear your laugh, soft and full of life, as you spoke to Sunoo’s mate. He could smell your scent, and it made his inner Alpha agitated.
He didn’t like this.
Didn’t like how his instincts reacted to you.
Didn’t like the way his thoughts strayed toward you when he had more important things to focus on.
Didn’t like how his body seemed to recognize something his mind refused to.
Heeseung and Jay passed by, still caught up in their conversation, but Heeseung sent him a knowing glance. Not fully understanding, but suspecting something.
Sunghoon shut it all out.
He had no time for love.
No time for whatever this was.
Without another word, he walked past you, through the council room doors, and forced himself to bury whatever this feeling was before it could take root.
You hesitated for a moment, watching Sunghoon as he disappeared into the meeting room without sparing you another glance. It wasn’t the first time he’d brushed past you like that, but something about today felt different. The way his shoulders tensed, the way his gaze hardened the second he saw you—it was like you were a problem he didn’t have time for.
And you didn’t understand why.
Sunoo’s mate, who just so happened to be Sunghoon’s younger sister, sighed beside you, her voice low as she leaned in. “Don’t bother,” she murmured, arms crossing as she watched her brother’s retreating figure. “He’s always like that.”
But was he?
Because despite her words, you had a gnawing feeling that the way Sunghoon treated you was different. Like there was something beneath his cold exterior, something you couldn’t quite understand.
You were still lost in thought when Ni-ki slid into the seat next to you. His presence was casual, but his sharp eyes missed nothing.
He nudged you lightly, voice dropping into a teasing whisper. “Why are you staring at Sunghoon like that?”
You snapped out of your daze, your eyes widening slightly. “What?”
The younger Alpha smirked, resting his chin on his hand as he observed you. “You’ve been watching him since he walked in. And don’t even try to deny it.”
Heat crept up your face as you quickly looked away. “I wasn’t—”
“Uh-huh,” Ni-ki cut in, clearly unconvinced. “Sure, (Y/N). Whatever helps you sleep at night.”
You huffed, shaking your head before turning your attention back to Jungwon as he finally started the meeting.
Jungwon leaned back in his chair, fingers tapping idly against the smooth wood of the long table before his lips curled into a knowing smirk. “Alright, before we get to the real agenda… I’m assuming everyone here knows they’re expected to be at the grand dinner our dear marketing director's family is hosting?”
Collective groans echoed through the room.
Jay was the first to voice his displeasure, rolling his eyes as he slumped against his chair. “No offense, Sunghoon, but I was trying to pretend I forgot about that.”
“Do we really have to go?” Sunoo sighed dramatically, slouching back in his seat with exaggerated defeat. “What if I suddenly develop a rare illness that prevents me from attending formal events? I think it’s highly possible. I should get it checked out.”
“You and me both,” Jay added, rolling his eyes.
Jungwon chuckled, shaking his head. “I’ll make sure our dear school nurse looks after you.” His tone was light, but the glint in his eyes made it clear—none of them were getting out of this.
You sat quietly at the far end of the table, taking in the conversation with mild amusement. The mention of the event piqued your curiosity, though you weren’t as vocal about your distaste for it as the others.
Instead, you found your gaze wandering toward Sunghoon, who, as expected, remained perfectly composed, his expression cold, eyes still skimming over his tablet as if this conversation didn’t concern him in the slightest.
Unlike the others, Sunghoon wasn’t one to complain about formal events. No, he was used to them. They were expected of him, just as everything else in his life was predetermined. And yet, despite his practiced facade, something about the way he held himself—his grip tightening around the device, his jaw tensing ever so slightly—told you that he wasn’t entirely unaffected.
Not that you would ever get the chance to ask him about it.
Because every time you so much as looked his way, his entire demeanor shifted, as if your presence alone irritated him. And it stung, just a little.
Jungwon, unaware of the silent exchange, finally clapped his hands together. “Alright, moving on. Since we’re all forced to attend that wonderful dinner, let’s get to what actually matters—the upcoming school festival.”
A shift in everyone's demeanor followed as the real meeting began. Papers rustled, files were opened, and everyone straightened up, ready to discuss proposals and assignments.
“The main goal for this meeting is to finalize activity proposals before we present them for approval. We have a rough list, but we still need to sort out logistics,” Jungwon continued. “Jake, you and your team already compiled the initial proposals, right?”
Jake nodded, pulling out a neatly organized folder. “Yeah, I went through the ones submitted last week. I’ll run through them real quick.”
As Jake started going over the list, you chimed in with some of your own notes, offering insights from the secretary committee’s perspective. “Some of these proposals overlap with past events, so we might want to rethink a few of them to keep things fresh. Also, we should factor in the budget constraints before finalizing anything.”
Jay, being the treasurer, leaned forward, tapping his pen against his notebook. “Speaking of budgets, don’t forget that we still need funding for venue rentals and logistics.”
Heeseung snorted. “Stop acting like we’re broke. We could fund the whole event if we wanted to.”
Jay smirked, leaning back in his chair. “Yeah, but just because we have the funds doesn’t mean we should start tossing money around like it’s fucking Monopoly cash.”
Sunoo, the student relations director, hummed in approval. “Okay, but let’s consider which ones would actually engage the student body. No point in budgeting for an event no one shows up to.”
Heeseung leaned back in his chair, shrugging. “That’s fair, but we do have the resources. As long as it’s reasonable, funding isn’t really the issue.”
Jay sighed, still skeptical. “Fine. Just don’t come crying to me when we go over budget because someone thought a fireworks show would be a great addition.”
The discussion flowed naturally, Ni-ki making suggestions from the public relations side. “We also need to think about how we’re promoting these events. Even the best ideas fail if no one knows about them. I can get the PR committee to start drafting marketing strategies once we finalize the shortlist.”
But amidst all of this, Sunghoon was distracted. No one would have noticed—no one except Heeseung, of course.
Because while the others were engaged in conversation, Sunghoon was stuck in a losing battle against his own thoughts. His gaze flickered to you more times than he wanted to admit, even as he forced himself to keep his attention on his tablet. He wasn’t just distracted; he was frustrated.
Why did he care? Why did it bother him when you spoke so easily with the others? You had always been there. You had always been part of these meetings, always sitting on the opposite end of the table, working just as hard as the rest of them.
So why, now of all times, was he so hyperaware of you?
Why did your voice pull him from his thoughts? Why did the scent of honey and lilac make his muscles tense?
He didn’t have time for this, he didn’t have time for love.
“Sunghoon,” Heeseung’s voice cut through his thoughts suddenly, snapping him back to reality.
Sunghoon didn’t even hesitate. “Yeah, I agree with (Y/N)’s suggestion.”
Silence.
Jay raised a brow, glancing at Heeseung before turning back to Sunghoon. “You sure about that, man?”
Sunoo looked equally amused, glancing between you and Sunghoon as he tossed the pen between his hands. “Because that was the first time you spoke since the meeting started.”
The corner of Heeseung’s lips curled into a knowing smirk. “So, you were listening, huh?”
Sunghoon clenched his jaw. Heeseung knew. He always knew.
But instead of giving them the satisfaction, Sunghoon merely straightened in his seat, exuding the same indifference as before. “Of course I was. I wouldn’t be sitting here if I wasn’t.”
Then Heeseung let out a low whistle, still smirking, only leaning back in his chair. “Right. If you say so.”
Jungwon, still trying to be professional, shook his head. “Alright, focus, people.”
You, however, weren’t paying attention to them anymore. Your gaze drifted toward a specific pureblooded Alpha—the way he sat stiffly, the way his fingers tapped against the screen with an edge of tension.
And suddenly, you weren’t just confused.
You were curious.
Because if Sunghoon truly didn’t care about you, why did he remember every single word you had said?
You replayed every moment you saw him from earlier that day—his quiet, almost reluctant responses to you, how he kept his distance but somehow always seemed to be aware of everything you said and did. His voice echoed in your head now, and it made you question everything you’d assumed about him.
Was this really indifference?
Or was it something else?
The meeting droned on, but your mind couldn't stay focused. It kept drifting back to him—his posture, the sharpness of his eyes, the moles on his face that somehow made him even more attractive, the way he always seemed so calculated, like he was constantly running scenarios in his head, measuring each move.
Sunghoon wasn’t just someone who blended in with the group. No, he commanded attention, even without trying.
And yet, there he was, looking as uninterested as ever, his expression stoic as he scrolled through something on his device. But that nagging feeling—like there was something more beneath his mask—kept poking at you.
Without thinking, you leaned back in your chair, letting the tension in your body melt away for a moment, trying to get a glimpse of the real Sunghoon—not the calculated, polished version he liked to show other people.
You had to admit, you were intrigued. The pureblooded Alphas were all so predictable in their own ways, but Sunghoon was different.
Your thoughts were interrupted when Heeseung cleared his throat, looking at Jungwon with a raised eyebrow. “We’re talking about the theme for the event, right?” he asked casually, as if the meeting hadn’t slipped into a quiet lull.
Jungwon nodded, unfazed. “Yes. But we need more input from everyone. Ideas that aren’t just—”
“I have one,” you cut in, unable to resist any longer. Your voice came out clear and confident, a stark contrast to the flurry of thoughts racing through your mind. “We could go with something subtle but impactful. A theme that revolves around contrasts. Like light and dark, maybe even using elements of nature, contrasts of seasons, or contrasting textures. After all, it’s all about balance.”
You paused, feeling everyone’s gaze on you for just a moment longer than necessary. But you held it together.
The room fell silent. Sunghoon didn’t react immediately, but you could sense his attention subtly shifting in your direction. You dared to meet his eyes for a split second, but he quickly looked down at his tablet again, feigning disinterest.
But you noticed the way his lips pressed together, the slight tension in his jaw that he never showed anyone else. You wondered if he was considering your words or if he was just trying to avoid acknowledging the pull you had on him.
Finally, Sunghoon spoke up, his voice surprisingly calm. “It’s not bad,” he said, looking up from his tablet. “Contrast is a powerful tool. We could work with it.” His gaze lingered on you for a brief second before he turned his attention back to the discussion, as if the acknowledgment had been nothing more than a casual comment.
You blinked, slightly taken aback. The unexpected approval from him felt different from the usual dismissive reactions. But you didn’t have time to dwell on it. You quickly nodded, trying to maintain your composure.
“I’ll send a more detailed proposal with visuals after the meeting,” you added, pushing forward.
Sunghoon didn’t say anything more, but you caught the way his gaze flickered toward you again, his eyes narrowing just slightly. There was a brief pause, like he was weighing his next move.
The air had shifted just a little, and you couldn’t quite place why. But you were certain that there was something more to his response, even if he tried to brush it off as nonchalance.
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The rustling of papers and the faint creak of chairs filled the council room as everyone packed up. The meeting had dragged on longer than expected, and most of them were ready to go home.
Jake slung his bag over his shoulder, exhaling. “Alright, let’s go. I think we all want to sleep at a reasonable hour.”
Ni-ki snorted. “Reasonable? You all literally run on caffeine and stress.”
Jake rolled his eyes, already walking toward the door. “Just hurry up.”
One by one, they filed out into the dimly lit hallways, their chatter echoing through the empty corridors. Outside, the night air was crisp, the usual warm breeze replaced by a sharper chill.
The campus at night had an almost eerie but majestic feel to it, grand architecture bathed in soft golden lights, towering columns casting long shadows across the marble pathways. The air smelled of expensive cologne and freshly trimmed gardens—the very image of wealth and privilege. It was the kind of place that asked for admiration, yet felt untouchable, like something straight out of a dream.
They walked in their usual loose formation toward the parking lot, their voices filling the space between them. Sunoo and Jay were deep in a debate about their next group dinner, Ni-ki throwing in sarcastic remarks while Heeseung poked fun at Jungwon’s overly formal meeting style.
But Sunghoon?
Sunghoon was silent.
He walked with them, hands shoved into his pockets, his usual confident stride still the same. And yet, he wasn’t really there. He wasn’t paying attention to the conversation, wasn’t throwing in his usual sarcastic remarks. He barely even reacted when Ni-ki nudged him in the ribs or when Heeseung smirked at him like he was waiting for a comeback.
Jay was the first to notice. He narrowed his eyes, slowing his steps to fall in line beside him. “What’s up with you?”
Sunghoon blinked, like he hadn’t even realized someone was talking to him. “What?”
Jay gave him a look. “You’ve been weirdly quiet. Like, more than usual. It’s kinda freaking me out.”
Sunghoon exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. “I’m fine.”
But he wasn’t. And they all caught it.
Because for the briefest second, his scent changed—something bitter wafted through the air.
Jay’s eyes flickered, but he let it go. “If you say so.”
The conversation picked up again, but Sunghoon remained detached, walking alongside them but never really taking part in any of the conversations.
They reached the parking lot, and the group naturally split off toward their respective cars, saying their goodbyes.
Sunghoon walked toward his own: a sleek, black sports car, polished to perfection. It stood out even among the other luxury vehicles, a clear reminder of his status.
He pulled the door open but didn’t start it. Instead, he sat in the driver’s seat, gripping the wheel as he stared straight ahead.
The quietness of the parking lot pressed down on him, leaving nothing but the hum of distant streetlights and the faint ringing in his ears.
And then, for the first time all night, his inner Alpha spoke.
"Pathetic."
A dull throb started in his temples. He shut his eyes, jaw clenching.
"You’re running, aren’t you?"
“Shut up.” His grip on the wheel tightened, but the voice didn’t stop. It never did.
"You saw her today. Again. And what did you do?"
His chest ached. “Nothing.”
His inner Alpha scoffed. "Exactly. You ignored her. You walked past her like she was nothing."
“Because she is nothing to me.” But even as he said it, his own words felt hollow.
"Liar."
His head pulsed, frustration clawing at his skull. He couldn’t do this. He had responsibilities. Expectations. He had worked too damn hard to let something as simple as instincts get in the way.
His life was structured, orderly. He had a plan.
He had no time for love.
No time for distractions.
And yet, the way his instincts clawed at him, the way his Alpha had been restless all evening, it was suffocating.
His own body was betraying him.
He exhaled sharply, pressing his thumb and forefinger against his temple. Not now. Not ever.
With a final, sharp breath, he yanked the car door shut, sealing himself inside.
And then, without another second wasted, he started the engine and drove off into the night.
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The drive home was a blur. Sunghoon barely remembered driving through the city streets, his grip on the wheel tense, jaw locked as he forced his thoughts elsewhere—anywhere but where they wanted to be.
But the moment he pulled into the long, private driveway leading to his family estate, he knew that tonight was going to be hell.
His home was as grand as expected from a family like his—towering windows, intricate stonework, and the ever-present air of power. The gates shut behind him, and for a second, he let his forehead rest against the steering wheel. Maybe if he sat here long enough, his thoughts would settle.
Your scent still clung to his senses—honey and lilac, sweet but not overpowering. It had wrapped around him in the council room, seeped into his skin, and now it refused to leave. He hated how much it soothed him, how his muscles almost wanted to relax, how it made something deep in his chest coil tighter instead of loosening.
"You’re being pathetic," his alpha sneered, voice curling in his mind like a mocking whisper. "Avoiding her doesn’t change the fact that she’s yours."
Sunghoon’s lips curled into a silent snarl as he shoved the car door open, stepping out into the crisp night air.
“She is not mine.”
His inner alpha laughed, low and knowing. "Keep telling yourself that. See how well that works."
Ignoring the voice, he strode toward the house. The moment he stepped inside, everything felt too much. The walls felt closer. The silence was suffocating. His body was tense with an agitation he couldn’t shake. His instincts were screaming at him to move, to do something.
He made his way upstairs, stripping off his blazer and tossing it carelessly onto the chair by his desk. His bathroom door was open, the mirror catching his reflection. His eyes were sharp, glowing under the dim lighting, the exhaustion on his face barely hidden beneath the tension.
He turned away, forcing himself not to linger.
A shower. Maybe that would help.
The water was scalding against his skin, yet it did nothing to ease the heat gnawing at his chest. The steam didn’t drown out your presence—your scent lingered, thick in the air. His hands clenched against the tiles, his body stiff as the wave of frustration rolled over him.
“She’s under Jake in the secretary committee,” he muttered, trying to remind himself why it couldn’t be this way. “She’s always been there, but you never cared before. Why now?”
His alpha growled, the voice inside him bitter. "Because you were blind before."
“And I’m not now?”
"No. And you hate it."
Sunghoon exhaled sharply, the water running down his back as he scrubbed it away, scrubbing away the thoughts that wouldn’t leave.
He was supposed to have control. He couldn’t let this slip. He had responsibilities, obligations—his family, the council, the expectations weighing on his shoulders. He could not afford distractions.
And yet…
The moment he collapsed onto his bed, exhaustion tugging at him, he couldn’t escape the truth. The weight of it crushed him as he stared at the ceiling, and despite all the effort to push it down, all he could think about was you.
His body fought against it. His mind screamed at him to focus, to remind himself of his purpose. But his heart, and his damn alpha—kept drawing him back to you.
He lay on his bed for what felt like hours, the shadows from the window stretching over the floor, taunting him with the silence that felt too heavy.
“Get up,” he muttered to himself, sitting up abruptly, his body moving almost involuntarily. He couldn't sleep. Couldn't let himself relax. He needed something to focus on, something that would force his mind to behave.
Sunghoon stalked over to his desk, flicking on the lamp with a snap of his fingers. The pile of paperwork in front of him was waiting; papers that he had ignored for far too long, reports that needed reviewing, contracts his father had left for him to examine.
He grabbed the nearest stack, flipping it open, pretending to care about the figures and legal jargon written on the pages. But it was useless. His eyes skimmed over the words, but none of it made sense. His mind was elsewhere. His fingers would itch for the next page, yet they weren’t moving fast enough.
He cursed under his breath, trying to force his attention back onto the papers, but his thoughts kept drifting—drifting to you.
He slammed the folder closed, frustration clawing at him, his teeth gritting as he let out a harsh breath. What the hell was wrong with him?
"You know the answer," his inner alpha purred darkly. "It’s only a matter of time before you crack."
He shook his head, trying to fight back the growing sensation of need. He couldn’t allow it. He wouldn’t allow it.
Still, the clock ticked on, its hands mocking him, each second louder than the last.
He pushed himself up from his desk, pacing the room in frustration. His mind was a battlefield, the war between his own instincts and the duties he had been born into. He couldn’t just let go.
He had responsibilities. But everything in him—his very core, his inner alpha—was screaming for him to do the one thing he refused to acknowledge: follow his instincts. Go to her. Take the step forward.
"You’re already in too deep," the voice reminded him again, this time quieter, almost tender. "She’s not just anyone. she’s yours."
Sunghoon froze, his back against the wall as the words hit him harder than he could have ever anticipated. His heart skipped a beat. The thought of you, the reality of you being his, it felt almost too much to bear.
His alpha wasn’t wrong. But the fear of breaking the walls he had carefully built around his life, the fear of losing control, it was all too overwhelming.
Finally, Sunghoon gave in and walked over to his walk-in closet, the weight of his thoughts dragging him down. He yanked open the door, revealing rows of neatly organized clothes.
His eyes scanned the options without much focus, hand moving almost automatically as he grabbed a random hoodie from the rack. Pulling it over his head, he felt the familiar weight of the fabric, but it did little to comfort him.
Maybe a walk would help. Fresh air. Something to clear his mind. Maybe then, he could shake the way his body burned for something, anything that wasn’t this.
But the instant he stepped out into the cool night, his mind betrayed him again. He walked in the direction of the garden, his eyes glued to the ground, his thoughts clouded.
And there, in the garden, where the cold air mixed with the scent of flowers, the feeling hit him again, the overwhelming, suffocating need to give in.
Sunghoon found himself staring at the moon, and then, without realizing it, his mind drifted again.
You.
And when he tried to stop it, it came anyway.
Sunghoon’s frustration increased, his fingers clenching into fists at his sides. The wind swept across the garden, rustling the leaves, and yet he felt nothing but this suffocating pull toward you, toward whatever this was. The thoughts were relentless, the pull of his instincts gnawing at him.
His phone buzzed in his pocket, cutting through the chaos of his mind. He pulled it out, his eyes narrowing at the message from Jungwon, “Need you in the council office tomorrow for another meeting. Can’t do this without the rest of you guys.”
Sunghoon scoffed, shoving the phone back into his pocket. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with any more committee business. He was already drowning in it.
Yet, despite himself, he began to walk back toward the house, his pace quickening as if his legs knew what his mind refused to accept—that he couldn’t escape this. Not for long.
The only thing on his mind now was what he couldn’t have. And the bitter, hollow feeling that came with it was growing by the minute.
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The morning light barely made its way through the heavy curtains, casting faint shadows on Sunghoon’s disheveled bed. He groaned as a loud knock broke through the quietness of his room. The sound echoed in his head, still hazy with the remnants of sleep.
Reluctantly, he reached for his phone, eyes squinting against the harsh glow of the screen. 7:00 AM. The numbers were bold, a text from his sister flashed across the screen, accompanied by a string of impatient emojis.
“Sunghoon, get up. We need to head to the venue. There are last-minute details to fix before the event.”
A sigh slipped past his lips. The last thing he wanted was to be pulled into this whirlwind of preparations, but as usual, duty called. His inner alpha thrashed beneath the surface, restless as ever, but there was no time for that. He had responsibilities to uphold.
Another knock came, louder this time. “Hurry up!” His sister’s voice echoed from the hallway, laced with a teasing urgency.
“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, dragging himself out of bed. His body felt heavy, his mind clouded, but he forced himself to push through. His sister’s impatience was nothing new, but today, it felt more grating than usual.
He stumbled to the door, opening it to find his sister standing there with arms crossed, an amused smile playing at the corner of her lips. “You're seriously still in bed? I swear, you’re getting worse with every event,” she said, her tone light but laced with the expectation of someone who knew he could do better.
Sunghoon rubbed his eyes, his voice groggy. “I’m coming,” he muttered, trying to shake off the sleepiness clinging to him. She rolled her eyes, brushing past him and heading down the stairs without another word.
Minutes later, he stood in front of the full-length mirror in his closet, adjusting the black Dior suit his mother insisted on for every event. The fabric felt familiar, but it didn’t comfort him the way it usually did.
His reflection stared back at him: sharp, immaculate, and detached. The face of someone who had never been able to escape the expectations placed upon him. He barely recognized himself some days.
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Sunghoon’s sports car sped down the quiet road, the cool morning air rushing through the slightly open windows. His sister, as usual, was absorbed in her phone beside him, chattering on about whatever had caught her attention.
But Sunghoon’s mind was elsewhere. It kept drifting back to the image of you at the council, the way you carried yourself with ease, how your presence lingered in his thoughts like a scent he couldn’t shake.
“You’re driving like you’re half asleep,” his sister finally commented, giving him a quick glance with raised brows. “Sunghoon, are you okay? You’ve been off all week.”
He blinked, pulling himself out of his daze and offering a strained smile. “I’m fine,” he said, his voice betraying him as he tried to brush it off.
She eyed him skeptically. “You’ve barely talked to anyone at home this week. What’s going on?”
Sunghoon stiffened but didn’t respond immediately. His mind briefly flickered back to you, but he shook it off, trying to stay focused.
“Have you found your mate yet?” she asked, her voice soft but curious—not teasing. She could sense the change in him even if she didn’t fully understand why.
Sunghoon’s grip tightened on the steering wheel as he kept his gaze on the road. His mate. He hadn’t allowed himself to think about that possibility, not when everything felt so complicated.
“No,” he muttered, the word coming out sharper than he intended. “Not yet.”
His sister let out a dramatic sigh, clearly unimpressed. “You’re such a mess. Honestly, you could just relax. It’s not the end of the world if you let your guard down for a second.”
He didn’t respond. Instead, he continued driving, his mind still wrapped up in the swirling tension inside him. Why couldn’t it be anyone else? Why did it have to be you? He couldn’t seem to make sense of it.
The silence stretched on until his sister mumbled something under her breath, so quietly that he almost missed it.
“The poor girl.”
His head snapped toward her, brow furrowed in confusion. “What?”
She looked at him knowingly, the edge of her teasing never fully disappearing. “You’ve been pushing her away all week, haven’t you?” she said softly, almost pitying. “And you think she doesn’t notice? Poor girl. She probably thinks you’re confused with the way you keep looking at her.”
Sunghoon’s chest tightened at her words. He didn’t say anything, but the weight of them lingered in the air between them. His mind was too busy to process it. He had to stay focused. He couldn’t let himself get distracted by his feelings now, not when there was so much at stake.
His sister didn’t press the matter further. The drive continued in silence until they arrived at The Park Hotel, Seoul—a towering, luxurious building that his family owned. Sunghoon parked the car and shut off the engine, forcing himself to breathe.
As he stepped out of the car, his gaze landed on a sleek white sports car parked by the entrance. It was familiar, but there was something about it, something about the way it was parked so perfectly neat, that made Sunghoon pause. He glanced at it for a moment but didn’t think much of it. He shrugged it off. After all, there were so many cars in the parking lot. It was probably just another business associate’s vehicle.
“Come on,” his sister said, walking ahead toward the entrance. “Let’s go.”
They walked into the hotel, where the hustle of preparations for the event was already in full swing. His mother was already there, talking to a few staff members, discussing last-minute details. The sight of her being so composed and confident was a relief to Sunghoon. He always felt better around her.
“Mom!” he greeted, his mood lightening as he walked toward her. She smiled and greeted him in return before they moved toward the elevator.
“Top floor,” Sunghoon said, pressing the button for the penthouse suite, the family’s personal event space at the top of the building.
The elevator doors closed, and as it ascended, Sunghoon relaxed slightly, the tension in his shoulders easing. He loved this space; it always gave him a sense of control. The casual chatter in the elevator with his mom helped ground him.
“Everything ready for the event?” he asked casually, watching the numbers on the elevator screen rise.
His mom smiled, nodding. “Almost. Just some last-minute touches, but I think we’ll be fine. You know how much I love to be thorough with everything.” She glanced at him, her smile softening. “How’s everything with you, Sunghoon? You seem a bit distracted today.”
Sunghoon rubbed the back of his neck, trying to smile more naturally. “I’m just tired, I guess. Been a long week.” He quickly glanced over at his sister, who had her nose buried in her phone. “You know how it is.”
“Of course,” his mom said with a knowing look. “You’ve got a lot on your plate, don’t you? Just don’t overwork yourself. You know you can talk to me about anything.”
Sunghoon appreciated the concern, but he wasn’t ready to share what was really on his mind. “I’ll be fine, Mom. Don’t worry.”
The elevator finally stopped, and they were greeted by the usual flurry of activity as staff members hurried around, making sure every last detail was in place. His mom led the way, greeting workers and supervisors with ease.
But Sunghoon’s attention was already elsewhere. His eyes instinctively swept over the scene, and that’s when he saw you.
You were standing near one of the event coordinators, looking effortlessly at ease, your posture graceful. Sunghoon froze. His heart skipped a beat as his gaze locked onto you.
Before he could process it further, his mom continued walking ahead, greeting a woman standing nearby. Sunghoon barely registered who she was until he saw her face, and the resemblance was unmistakable.
His breath caught. The woman was elegant, poised, with the same features that were reflected in your own face. He stood frozen, unsure of how to react. His eyes flicked back to you, now standing beside the woman, his mind struggling to catch up with the sudden connection.
Then, to his surprise, his mom stepped forward and pulled you into a warm, affectionate hug. The gesture caught the pureblooded Alpha off guard, leaving him momentarily speechless.
His sister, noticing the way Sunghoon’s gaze lingered on the scene, raised an eyebrow. She smirked, almost as if she had been waiting for this moment.
“So… it’s actually (Y/N), huh?” she said casually, her tone light but laced with a knowing edge. “Guess you really can’t avoid it, huh?”
Sunghoon’s chest tightened as he took a deep breath, trying to process everything at once. What were you doing here?
Sunghoon stood frozen, his thoughts racing as his mom pulled you into a warm embrace. The sight of your face, the familiar features—everything about you felt like it was making his world tilt. He was still processing it all when his mom’s voice broke through his daze.
“Sunghoon, come here, both of you,” his mom called, waving them over.
Sunghoon’s feet moved almost automatically, his sister walking ahead of him, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she noticed the subtle tension in his posture. When they reached his mom, she was still smiling warmly at you and the woman standing next to you.
“(Y/N), I’d like you to meet my children, Sunghoon and his younger sister. And this is (Y/N)’s mother, who I’ve been coordinating with for the event,” she added, beaming. "She’s in the same university as you two, actually.”
Sunghoon’s eyes flickered between you and your mother. So, it was your family they were working with. The realization hit him harder than expected, his chest tightening.
Sunghoon’s sister raised an eyebrow and gave you a knowing smile, but it was his mom who asked the next question, her curiosity piqued. “What are you involved in at school, (Y/N)? I’m sure you’ve been keeping busy with the student council, right?”
You smiled a little, still feeling a little nervous under Sunghoon’s gaze, but his mom’s friendly demeanor helped ease the tension. “Yeah, I’m part of the student council. I’ve been helping with the planning and coordination for the event today.”
His mom nodded approvingly. “That’s wonderful! It’s always nice to see young people so dedicated and involved. I bet you and Sunghoon are both quite busy with school.”
You nodded in agreement, a small smile tugging at your lips as you looked at Sunghoon. “We see each other around. We’re both pretty busy with different things on campus.”
Sunghoon’s sister teased, “You two are pretty close, though, aren’t you?”
Sunghoon barely met your eyes, his lips curling into a tight, controlled smile. You mirrored his smile but said nothing, feeling the tension between you both grow.
“Well, it’s great to see you both getting along!” his mom said, clearly happy with the easy atmosphere. “It’s nice to have a friendly face on campus.”
Before Sunghoon could respond, his sister pulled you away with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Come on, let’s go help with the flowers,” she said, nudging you gently. “We’ll let Sunghoon handle things for a bit.”
Sunghoon watched you both walk off, his gaze lingering on your retreating figure. His thoughts swirled, but before he could gather them, his mom caught his eye, giving him a knowing look. She didn’t comment, but her silence spoke volumes.
Sunghoon took a deep breath, his mind still racing. Whatever this was, it was far from over.
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The evening settled in, casting a golden glow through the large windows of the hotel. The once-chaotic venue was finally coming together—round tables adorned with pristine tablecloths, floral arrangements meticulously placed, and staff scurrying around to finalize details.
You stood near a reception table, clipboard in hand, while Sunghoon’s sister leaned in beside you, skimming through the checklist.
“So, what’s left?” she asked, propping her chin on your shoulder.
You tapped the page with your pen. “Final seating adjustments, sound check, and we still need to confirm the catering schedule.”
She let out a dramatic sigh. “God, I don’t know how you keep up with all this.”
You smirked. “Maybe because I actually enjoy it?”
She gave you a teasing nudge. “Or maybe because you’re a perfectionist, Secretary Committee Girl.”
You rolled your eyes at the nickname. “I organize things. It’s literally my job in the council.”
Before she could respond, a familiar voice cut through the air.
“You’re overcomplicating the seating chart.”
Your head snapped up, and there he was—Park Sunghoon, standing with his usual composed posture, hands tucked into his pockets, expression unreadable. His mother had been talking to a coordinator nearby, but now, she glanced between the two of you, a small, knowing smile on her lips.
You exhaled through your nose. “We’re adjusting it, not overcomplicating it.”
Sunghoon gave you a flat look. “You moved the executive table again.”
“it needed to be closer to the main stage,” you argued.
“Which messes with the aisle clearance,” he countered.
You opened your mouth to respond, but his mother stepped in smoothly. “You two can argue about seating later. For now, go check on the banquet hall setup. The decorators should be almost done.”
Sunghoon sighed but nodded, while you grabbed your clipboard and turned to his sister. “You coming?”
She waved you off. “Nah, I’m staying here. You two have fun.”
You frowned at her mischievous tone, but the Alpha next to you didn’t give you time to dwell on it. With a tight-lipped expression, he gestured for you to walk ahead.
The large hall was buzzing with activity. Staff were setting up buffet tables, arranging cutlery, and making last-minute touches to the decorations. You and Sunghoon stood near the entrance, scanning the room.
“I’ll check on the centerpiece placements,” you said, glancing at your clipboard. “You can handle the catering status.”
He crossed his arms. “Why do I have to handle catering?”
You raised an eyebrow. “Because I don’t feel like arguing with the head chef.”
Sunghoon huffed but walked off toward the catering team while you made your way toward the floral arrangements. After a few minutes, you stood near the main table.
“They’re behind schedule,” Sunghoon reported, running a hand through his hair. “Something about delayed deliveries.”
You groaned. “Of course.”
You took out your phone, scrolling through your contact list. Sunghoon watched as you expertly navigated the crisis, calling the supplier and getting an update within minutes.
When you hung up, he raised an eyebrow. “You’re really in your element with this.”
You shrugged. “I have to be. The secretary committee basically runs everything behind the scenes.”
He scoffed. “So that’s why you always look stressed on campus.”
You shot him a look. “Excuse me?”
He smirked. “I see you in the student council room all the time, buried under paperwork. I just assumed it was self-inflicted suffering or Jake really hated your guts.”
You rolled your eyes. “Unlike some people, I actually like responsibility.”
Sunghoon just hummed, amused, before looking toward the exit. “Come on, we still have to check the ballroom.”
The ballroom, meant for the main program, was dimly lit as technicians adjusted the spotlights. You and Sunghoon walked toward the stage, where a staff member was testing the mic.
“You handle sound checks?” he asked, sounding mildly impressed.
You nodded. “Part of the job.”
Sunghoon leaned against a nearby pillar, watching as you exchanged instructions with the technicians. His eyes trailed over the way you moved—so effortlessly slipping into control, giving orders with ease, adjusting the smallest details without hesitation. You were in your element, and for a brief moment, he wondered if this was what he had been avoiding all along.
When you finally wrapped up, he glanced at you, voice quieter than before. “You’re really everywhere, huh?”
“That’s kind of the point,” you said, flipping through your notes.
His gaze lingered on you for a second longer before he looked away, clearing his throat. “So, what’s next?”
You skimmed the checklist. “We need to make sure the VIP section is set up properly.”
Sunghoon groaned. “Please don’t tell me we have to argue about chairs again.”
You smirked. “That depends. Are you going to accept that I’m always right?”
He gave you an unimpressed look but followed you anyway.
The two of you walked through the elegantly arranged VIP tables, double-checking details. At one point, you crouched down to fix a misplaced name card, only to feel Sunghoon standing way too close behind you.
“You’re hovering,” you muttered.
“I’m observing,” he corrected.
You turned your head slightly, only to realize just how close he was. His scent—coffee and leather—wrapped around you, warm and grounding. You swallowed, standing up quickly and brushing imaginary dust off your skirt.
His inner alpha stirred, "Weak. You’re running again."
He ignored it.
His gaze traced the slight parting of your lips, the subtle rise and fall of your shoulders as you exhaled. He let himself linger, just for a second, in the space between restraint and surrender. And that’s when the thought crept in, unbidden.
"Is this really what you’re afraid of? Her? Or the way she makes you forget everything else?"
His jaw tightened.
Because it wasn’t just the bond. It wasn’t just attraction. It was the fear of unraveling, of slipping so deep into something he couldn’t control that he’d abandon everything else, his duties, his carefully built walls, the life that was expected of him.
His alpha hummed in amusement. "She makes you weak, but you want her anyway."
Sunghoon swallowed hard, straightening his posture. The warmth in his eyes cooled, replaced by something unreadable.
You frowned slightly at the shift.
He smirked. “Nervous?” His voice was smooth, but there was a sudden distance in it.
You scoffed. “You wish.”
His gaze flickered to your lips for the briefest second before he took a step back, shoving his hands into his pockets as if forcing the space between you.
"Coward."
“If you say so,” he hummed.
Before you could respond, a voice interrupted.
“Ah, there you two are.”
Sunghoon turned, shifting his expression into something neutral as his mother approached, clipboard in hand. You straightened up beside him, the moment from before slipping between your fingers like sand.
“I need you both to oversee the final checks while I discuss something with the event coordinators.” His mother’s tone left no room for argument. She gave Sunghoon a look, one that was equal parts expectation and knowing—before handing you the clipboard. “You know what to do.”
You nodded. “Of course, Mrs. Park.”
Sunghoon exhaled slowly through his nose, nodding along as well. It wasn’t like he could say no.
"Another thing you can't say no to, huh?" His alpha taunted.
He clenched his jaw, pushing down the irritation forming in his chest. It wasn’t at you, he knew that much. It was at himself, at the way he was still standing next to you despite everything.
You, however, had already moved on, scanning through the checklist before nudging his arm. “Come on, Park. The sooner we start, the sooner we finish.”
His eyes flicked down to where you touched him, the warmth of your skin seeping through his sleeve. His inner alpha hummed in approval, but he ignored it, following you as you walked through the venue.
As you worked, your voice was steady as you went over the details. “Floral arrangements are set, table placements are final…” You trailed off as you examined the stage setup, flipping a page on the clipboard. “Lighting checks should be done soon. Could you talk to the technicians?”
He raised a brow. “You’re delegating to me now?”
You gave him a pointed look. “I can’t do everything myself.”
Sunghoon smirked despite himself, but there was something bitter about it. You weren’t even flustered around him anymore. When did you stop getting nervous?
His alpha scoffed. "You’re upset about that? Pathetic."
Still, he didn’t argue. He stepped away, scanning the ballroom for the lighting crew before walking off.
By the time he returned, you were deep in conversation with the floral team, gesturing toward one of the centerpieces. His gaze followed your movements—how easily you took control of the situation, how effortlessly you belonged in this environment.
"She’s everywhere. Always in the middle of things, always moving forward."
He rubbed the back of his neck, a familiar tightness forming in his chest. Maybe that’s why he had avoided this for so long. Because standing here, watching you do what you did best, made him realize something.
It wasn’t just about you. It was about him.
The fear wasn’t of falling for you. It was of what that would mean, of what he’d have to let go of to have you.
“Earth to Sunghoon?”
He blinked, snapping back to reality. You were watching him, an amused expression on your face.
“Spacing out already?” you teased. “We’re not even done yet.”
He exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. “Just thinking.”
“About what?”
“Nothing important,” he muttered, voice clipped.
You frowned at the sudden change in his tone but didn’t push. “Right. Well, let me know if you're ready to go. We still have things to check.”
You walked past him, your scent—honey and lilac—lingering in the air, soft yet unmistakable. His Alpha bristled, pushing at his restraint.
"She’s slipping away. Your Omega is slipping away."
Sunghoon clenched his fists. No. You were right here. He just didn’t know what to do with that.
For now, he settled for following you.
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The night air was crisp, carrying a faint chill that hinted at the changing seasons. You barely noticed, too preoccupied with checking off the last few items on your clipboard as you walked through the dimly lit parking lot with Sunghoon’s sister beside you.
“God, if one more person asks me about table placements, I’m quitting this whole thing,” she groaned, rubbing her temples.
You chuckled. “You say that, but you’ll still show up tomorrow looking like you run the place.”
She shot you a tired grin. “Shut up.”
A few steps behind, Sunghoon trailed silently. He wasn’t really listening to the conversation—at least, that’s what he told himself.
But his eyes betrayed him, flickering to you every so often, catching the way your brows furrowed in concentration, the way you absentmindedly tapped your pen against the clipboard, the way your scent of honey and lilacs felt like it was wrapping around him, daring him to step closer.
"She’s right there. Yours. Slipping away."
His inner Alpha’s voice was persistent, lingering in the back of his mind like an ache he refused to acknowledge.
He exhaled sharply, pushing the thought away. This was what he wanted, wasn’t it? Distance. Control. A clear line between what he felt and what he knew he had to do.
But then you stopped beside your car, unlocking it with a quiet beep. His sister slowed beside you, turning to Sunghoon with a slight frown.
“Hoon, you good?”
Your gaze flickered toward him at the question, eyes searching, like you were trying to figure out what was wrong.
And that was the problem. You always noticed.
The Alpha tensed, his walls slamming back up. His face smoothed over, his posture shifted; cold, detached, unreadable.
“Yeah,” he said flatly.
The change was almost unnoticeable, but you caught it.
Your grip on the clipboard tightened, as if debating whether to push, whether to call him out on it. But instead, you just nodded, lips pressing into a thin line.
“Alright,” you murmured.
His sister sighed dramatically, rolling her eyes. “You’re both so dramatic.” Then she turned to you, brightening up again. “Don’t overwork yourself, okay?”
You mustered a tired smile. “I won’t.”
Sunghoon stayed silent.
And this time, you didn’t bother looking at him before sliding into your car.
The moment your door shut, his Alpha growled in protest.
"Fix it."
He clenched his jaw, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets.
“No.”
Your engine rumbled to life, headlights casting long shadows across the pavement. He should’ve looked away, should’ve just walked off—but he didn’t. He watched as you drove off, the sound of your car fading into the night.
A quiet sigh escaped him. His mother.
She didn’t say anything earlier, didn’t scold or pry. She simply looked at him; knowing, like she already had a hint of what was happening.
And for some reason, that made his chest tighten.
So he exhaled, turned on his heel, and walked away.
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The Park estate was quieter than usual, save for the faint rustling of leaves outside and the occasional laughter echoing from the living room. Sunghoon leaned back against the couch, one arm draped over the backrest as he scrolled mindlessly through his phone.
The guys had gathered there a few hours before the grand dinner, since it was closer to the venue, and the suits for the evening were going to be delivered directly to the estate. It was comfortable, familiar.
“Bro, do you even listen to yourself?” Sunoo snorted, throwing a cushion at Jungwon, who barely dodged. “You keep saying you care about her, but where are you, huh? If I were your mate, I’d leave your ass.”
Jungwon groaned, rubbing his temples. “It’s not like I’m ignoring her on purpose, okay? I just—”
“Just what?” Sunoo raised an eyebrow. “Bro, you’re literally a pureblooded Alpha. Start acting like one.”
Jake snorted from his spot on the couch, shaking his head. “You talk a lot of shit for someone who barely figured out his own mating bond.”
“Hey, at least I figured it out,” Sunoo shot back. “Jungwon’s still treating his Omega like he's still courting her—he's walking on eggshells.”
Jungwon groaned, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t need this right now.” The younger Alpha huffed, slumping into the couch, ears turning a bit red.
Heeseung chuckled. “He’s right, you know. Just follow your instincts. Might help.”
Sunghoon tuned them out. His fingers tapped against his phone screen, his mind elsewhere. That was, until two familiar voices drifted in from the hallway.
“Oh yeah, follow that. Don't be like my brother—can’t relate to the whole instincts thing.”
His sister and Heeseung's mate.
Sunghoon barely registered her words, but the comment stung more than he expected. He tensed up, feeling his jaw clench involuntarily.
They didn’t even glance his way, walking past them straight to the kitchen.
For some reason, it made him feel smaller than he ever wanted to. He stayed quiet, his grip on his phone tightened, focusing on the lack of sound in the room.
Jungwon’s eyebrows lifted. “Uh… hello? You good?”
Ni-ki leaned forward, grinning. “Yeah, that was kinda weak, man. You always have something to say.”
Sunghoon didn’t respond. He couldn’t. His thoughts were spiraling too fast, his Alpha stirring like an itch he couldn’t scratch.
"They’re right. You’ve been avoiding this for too long."
His jaw clenched.
"Why? Because you’re scared? Because you think pushing her away makes you stronger? You already know the answer, don’t you?
Sunghoon snapped."
A low, warning growl left his throat, deep and sharp, cutting through the air like a blade.
His scent soured, something bitter and tense.
The room fell silent.
Sunghoon immediately regretted it.
His friends weren’t scared, he knew that much—but they were surprised. He never let his emotions slip like that, never let his control falter.
Jake raised an eyebrow. “Damn, man,” he muttered, clearly surprised. “You good?”
Sunghoon exhaled slowly, pressing his thumb against his temple.
Jungwon, still startled, hesitated before speaking. “Hey, man, relax…”
And then, Jungwon added, almost absently—
“What’s got you all messed up? It’s like you—”
Sunghoon cut him off. “I met my mate.”
The words left his mouth before he even fully registered what he was saying.
The silence that followed was deafening.
Sunoo was the first to recover. “What?”
Jungwon’s eyes widened as he processed what Sunghoon had said. “Wait—what?”
Sunghoon leaned back against the couch, rubbing a hand over his face. His heartbeat felt louder in his ears now, the weight of his own admission settling in. “I met my mate,” he repeated, this time with more certainty, but still unsure.
Jake let out a low whistle. “Well, shit,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “Didn’t think I’d hear that today.”
Jay was still staring at him like he had grown a second head. “You?”
Sunghoon shot him a glare. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Jay raised his hands in defense. “I mean, dude, it’s you. You’ve never even cared about that kind of stuff. I just—when? How?”
Sunghoon hesitated. He hadn’t planned on saying this out loud, let alone explaining it. The moment he said the words, it felt like he had given away the control he had spent years perfecting—it had just cracked at the edges.
Sunoo narrowed his eyes. “Yeah, and who?”
Ni-ki looked almost wary. “Wait, wait, hold up—are you sure?”
Sunghoon shot him a flat look. “You think I’d joke about this?”
“No, but you also don’t exactly seem sure,” Ni-ki pointed out.
That was fair.
Because the truth was, Sunghoon wasn’t sure, not fully. Or at least, he had spent the last few days convincing himself he wasn’t sure. Because if he admitted it, that meant things had to change.
And Sunghoon hated change.
Heeseung, who had been the quietest of them all, finally spoke up. His voice was calm. “Since when?”
Sunghoon pressed his lips together.
“Sunghoon,” Heeseung pushed, more insistent this time. “How long have you known?”
A muscle in Sunghoon’s jaw ticked. “…A while.”
Another silence stretched between them, heavier this time.
Sunoo groaned, running a hand down his face. “You knew and didn’t say anything?”
Sunghoon didn’t answer.
Jake scoffed, shaking his head. “Bro, what the hell?”
Ni-ki leaned forward, his expression sharper now. “You’re seriously fighting this?” His voice was wary, frustrated. Despite being the youngest, he thought it was stupid—this was instincts, this was nature.
The gods themselves had chosen fated mates with intention. Rejecting that was like rejecting the sky, the air, the pull of the ocean’s tide. It made no sense to him. “Why would you reject something that’s meant for you?”
Jungwon, usually the more level-headed one, actually agreed. “Ni-ki’s right,” he muttered. “You’re making this way harder than it has to be.”
Sunghoon snapped.
“You think I had a choice?” His voice came out sharper than he meant, louder. His scent flared again, dominance pouring out of him.
And that set them all off.
Because they weren’t just Alphas. They were pureblooded Alphas, born and bred into power, and when dominance was challenged, instinct demanded they answer.
Jake and Jay shot him a glare, their own scents spiking as an automatic reaction. Jungwon bared his teeth slightly, frustration and something close to disbelief flickering in his eyes. Sunoo looked like he wanted to hit him.
“Yeah, you had a choice,” Sunoo threw back. “And you blew it!”
Ni-ki’s glare sharpened. “Do you even hear yourself right now?”
Jake scoffed, shaking his head. “You think this is a fucking game? Do you know how many Alphas would kill to even find their mate?”
Sunghoon clenched his fists. “It’s not that simple.”
Jay barked out a short, humorless laugh. “No, you’re just making it complicated.”
Sunghoon had had enough.
He shot up from the couch, turned on his heel, and walked out, his footsteps heavy against the marble flooring, his scent still bitter, still unsettled. He didn’t care where he was going. He just needed to get out.
Sunoo and Heeseung exchanged glances before following after him.
The afternoon air was cooler than he expected. He exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair, trying to breathe.
Sunoo was the first to break the silence. “Dude,” he muttered, “what the hell is going on with you?”
Sunghoon didn’t answer immediately. He stared out at the sunlit garden, hands in his pockets, jaw tight.
Heeseung leaned against the railing beside him. “Talk to us.” His voice was calm. “You don’t have to deal with this alone.”
Sunghoon let out a short, hollow laugh. “Feels like I do.”
Sunoo crossed his arms. “No, you’re just choosing to.”
Silence.
Sunghoon’s fingers twitched. He didn’t know how to say it, didn’t know how to make them understand.
“I…” He exhaled sharply, tilting his head back. “I don’t want this.”
Sunoo furrowed his brows. “Why?”
Sunghoon swallowed hard. “Because I don’t know how to be that person. A mate. A bond. A life that’s—” He shook his head. “I wasn’t made for that.”
heeseung sighed, rubbing his temple before stepping in. “sunghoon, listen to yourself. you’re treating this like it’s some kind of punishment.”
sunghoon let out a heavy breath, the weight in his chest pressing down harder. “it feels like one,” he admitted.
“because—” sunghoon continued, closing his eyes for a brief second before looking away. “because it means everything changes. i change.”
Sunoo scoffed, shaking his head. “And? What’s so bad about that?”
Sunghoon turned to him, frustration bubbling to the surface. “You don’t get it—”
“No, you don’t get it.” Sunoo cut him off. “You’re not losing yourself, Sunghoon. You’re finding something—someone that was always meant to be yours.”
Heeseung nodded, stepping closer. “And having an Omega to call yours? That’s a responsibility in itself, one you were always meant to take on. You’re not abandoning anything—you’re taking something just as important.”
Sunghoon’s jaw clenched, his chest rising and falling with each sharp breath. He wanted to argue, wanted to fight back—but the truth was, deep down, he knew they were right.
The thought alone terrified him.
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The event was already in full swing by the time Sunghoon arrived, the grand ballroom glowing with golden chandeliers and the murmur of polite conversation.
His polished shoes clicked against the marble floors as he stepped in alongside the others, all of them dressed in perfectly tailored suits, their hair styled to absolute precision. They looked every bit like the pureblooded Alphas they were raised to be: refined, dominant, untouchable.
But none of that mattered the second he spotted you.
You were standing near the center of the room, surrounded by a group of familiar faces—his sister, Jungwon’s mate, Heeseung’s mate, and other Omegas of high standing. A tight-knit circle of Omegas that radiated grace and effortless elegance, laughing softly amongst themselves, their delicate fingers wrapped around champagne flutes.
And then there was you.
Your gown hugged your frame in all the right places before cascading down in soft waves, your hair curled to perfection, makeup flawless, lips painted a shade he couldn’t quite name but suddenly wanted to memorize.
It pissed him off.
Not because you looked good—no, that was obvious. It was the fact that you had noticed him, just as he had noticed you, but chose to act like he wasn’t even there.
He saw it. The way your shoulders tensed when he stepped into your vision, how your fingers gripped your champagne glass just a little tighter. But you didn’t acknowledge him. Didn’t even glance his way.
Like the past few days of him being distant meant nothing.
And that—that frustrated him more than anything.
A cough sounded beside him.
“Karma,” Sunoo smirked, enjoying every second of this.
Jake chuckled, shaking his head. Jungwon outright grinned. Even Heeseung—calm, composed Heeseung—gave him a knowing glance, like he had expected this from the start.
But the worst was Ni-ki.
The youngest in the group, ever observant, leaned in slightly, whispering just loud enough for them to hear.
“Damn,” Ni-ki mused, tilting his head. “That must hurt.”
Sunghoon clenched his jaw, ignoring the way the others tried to suppress their laughter.
His gaze flickered back to you.
Still not looking at him.
Sunghoon barely had a moment to collect himself before the inevitable happened.
People noticed them.
It was impossible not to.
A group of young, pureblooded Alpha heirs walking into a gathering like this, dressed to perfection, exuding confidence and power—of course, eyes turned their way.
The murmurs started almost instantly, subtle yet unmistakable. A few heads turned, quiet whispers rippling through the crowd as their names carried weight in these circles.
They barely had a chance to exchange glances before they were pulled into conversations, their group dispersing as they were greeted by family acquaintances, business partners, and distant relatives.
Sunghoon knew how this worked. He had been raised for it, trained to move through these events with effortless charm and perfect composure.
His feet carried him toward his parents, who were seated at a table near your group. His father, deep in conversation with a few business partners, barely glanced at him before greeting him with a firm pat on the shoulder. His mother, ever the composed woman, gave him a knowing look before murmuring, “You’re late.”
Sunghoon exhaled, adjusting the cuff of his suit. “Got caught up.”
His father chuckled, still half-distracted. “Ah, well. You made it.”
Before Sunghoon could take a step back, a familiar voice cut in.
“Well, if it isn’t Sunghoon.”
Sunghoon turned, and his expression barely shifted, though he immediately recognized the man.
An older Alpha, mid-forties, silver-streaked hair, broad-shouldered and sharp-eyed. Someone deeply tied to their family’s business dealings—one of his father’s closest partners.
“It’s been a while since I saw you,” the man continued, raising his glass in greeting. His tone was casual. “You’ve grown into quite the spitting image of your father.”
Sunghoon offered a small, polite nod. “It’s good to see you again.”
The older Alpha chuckled, taking a slow sip of his drink. “Good to see you too, kid. I remember when you were still a runt, running around at these events like you had better places to be.”
Sunghoon let out a short, practiced laugh. “Not much has changed.”
That earned another chuckle. Then, with an amused tilt of his head, the older Alpha leaned back slightly in his chair.
“You must have Omegas swooning left and right,” he mused, swirling his glass lazily. “With that face of yours, I bet they’re lining up.”
Sunghoon let out a soft breath, shaking his head. “I don’t have time for that.”
It was an easy response. Dismissive, effortless. A throwaway comment.
Except his eyes betrayed him.
Because, without thinking, his gaze flickered right back to you.
And you heard him. Of course, you did.
Omegas had sharper senses than most. Your hearing was leagues above everyone else’s, and Sunghoon knew it.
He knew it the moment he saw your grip on the champagne glass tighten ever so slightly. The way your shoulders straightened just a little more.
But you didn’t react, not outwardly.
Instead, you let out a small, polite laugh, face perfectly neutral. Then, in the same smooth, composed tone you always used at events like this, you excused yourself.
Sunghoon stiffened.
But it wasn’t just you who reacted.
His sister’s gaze snapped to him almost immediately, a flicker of something unmistakable in her expression: disappointment.
She said nothing, but she didn’t need to. The look alone said everything.
And she wasn’t the only one.
His mother, ever observant, barely shifted in her seat, but the sharp glint in her eyes told him she had caught on too.
Sunghoon swallowed.
He shouldn’t follow you.
He should’ve let it go.
But before he even realized it, his feet were already moving.
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The hall leading to the restrooms was dimly lit, the golden glow of the chandeliers fading the further you walked. The music and chatter from the ballroom dulled behind you, muffled and distant, as if the world was deliberately pulling away, leaving you alone with your thoughts, with the weight on your chest.
Your back hit the wall beside the restroom entrance, your breathing sharp and uneven.
Your inner Omega whimpered, "Not here. Not now."
You clenched your fists at your sides, nails pressing into your palms as you fought the sting behind your eyes.
You had known. You had always known how this would end.
And yet, standing there, shoulders stiff, throat tight, your pulse hammering against your skin, you hated that it still hurt.
You sucked in a breath, blinking up at the ceiling, forcing the tears back.
You would not cry.
Not in front of him.
And yet, the moment you sensed his presence, the moment his scent curled around you; thick, intoxicating, overwhelming, your body betrayed you.
Your fingers twitched.
Your breathing faltered.
You hated yourself for giving in so easily.
“What do you want, Sunghoon?” Your voice was cold, but the slight tremble at the end, barely there, almost unnoticeable, gave you away.
He stopped a few feet away, his hands flexing at his sides.
He was staring at you, his gaze dark, conflicted, like he didn’t know why he was here either.
His Adam’s apple bobbed. “I—”
“You what?” You cut him off, your voice sharp, edged with something dangerously close to heartbreak.
He exhaled, pressing his lips into a thin line.
You almost laughed. Of course.
“Nothing to say?” You scoffed, tilting your head. “Then why are you here?”
His jaw clenched. “I don’t—” He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling harshly.
You hated the way your chest clenched at the sight.
Hated the way his tie had loosened slightly, the way a strand of hair had fallen over his forehead, the way he looked so frustratingly undone for the first time tonight.
“You push me away.” Your voice wavered, but you forced yourself to continue. “You act like I don’t exist. And now you’re here, acting like you—” You swallowed, shaking your head. “You don’t get to do this, Sunghoon.”
His lips parted slightly.
“You don’t get to act like I matter when you’ve made it very clear that I don’t.”
Something cracked in his gaze. And for the first time, he looked afraid.
“I never said that,” he muttered, his voice softer now.
“You didn’t have to.”
Silence.
A suffocating silence. Your throat burned. You couldn’t do this. You turned to leave, to push past him, to breathe—
But suddenly—
You couldn’t move, and before you could react, a strong, calloused hand wrapped around your wrist—firm, desperate.
Your breath hitched.
Sunghoon pulled you back—hard—and in the span of a heartbeat, you collided straight into his chest.
The impact knocked the air from your lungs.
His scent swallowed you whole.
You gasped sharply, your knees nearly giving out.
And then—
Warmth.
Overwhelming, all-consuming warmth, his arms were around you.
One wrapped tight around your waist, pulling you flush against him. The other cradled the back of your head, fingers weaving through your hair—steady, like he was terrified of letting go.
Your chest heaved against his, hands fisting his suit jacket so tightly your knuckles ached.
But you didn’t care. You couldn’t care.
Not when his heart was hammering against yours, not when his grip on you was desperate, not when his entire body was trembling, like he was breaking just as much as you were.
Your breath came out shaky. “Let me go.”
He didn’t. He tightened his hold.
“Sunghoon.” Your voice cracked.
His head dipped lower, his breath fanning against your temple.
“I can’t.”
Your stomach flipped violently. Tears spilled down your cheeks, hot and relentless.
“You—” You squeezed your eyes shut, your grip on his suit tightening. “You’re such a fucking coward.”
His body tensed. But he didn’t pull away. Didn’t loosen his hold. Didn’t deny it.
Instead, his fingers curled into the fabric of your dress. And for the first time—Sunghoon let his instincts win.
Your hands gripped his suit tighter as your chest heaved, a strangled sob breaking free before you could stop it. The tears were now, falling fast and hot, no longer something you could hold back.
You pressed your face into his chest, the fabric of his suit absorbing the wetness, but it did nothing to soothe the ache inside you.
Sunghoon’s grip didn’t loosen. If anything, it tightened. He pulled you in closer, as if trying to protect you from everything.
The shaking of his hands on your back was evident, and the way his chest rose and fell in uneven breaths made your heart ache for him in ways you didn’t understand.
“Don't cry, Omega, please.” His voice was barely a whisper.
You shook your head, the words stuck in your throat. It felt like all the pain you’d buried, all the frustration, the confusion, the rejection—it was spilling out at once. You were drowning in it, and you didn’t know how to stop.
But his plea only made the sobs come harder, breaking free from your throat like you had been holding them in for years.
His arms tightened around you again, as if he could physically hold your pain together, as if he could stop you from shattering completely.
“I hate you.” The words barely made it past your lips, muffled against his chest, but he heard them.
You knew he heard them.
Because his entire body stiffened for a split second before his grip on you softened, his hand sliding from your waist to your lower back, the one behind your head shifting, his fingers threading into your hair with a gentleness that almost hurt.
“I know,” he murmured, voice so quiet it was almost lost in the silence of the hallway.
Your body shook against his, another sob wracking through you, and he just held you.
Not saying anything.
Not pulling away.
Just letting you break in his arms the way you had never allowed yourself to before.
Minutes passed, or maybe seconds—it didn’t matter.
Time felt frozen between you, the weight of everything crashing down in the space between your heavy breaths. Your mascara had smudged against the fabric of his suit, staining it, but he didn’t seem to care. He just kept holding you, his scent wrapping around you, keeping you from completely falling apart.
And then, finally—finally—you found your voice.
“Why?"
A single word. Quiet. Shaky. But sharp enough to cut through the silence.
Sunghoon stilled.
“Why did you do it?" Your voice cracked, but you pushed forward, your hands gripping his suit even tighter. “Why did you act like I didn’t exist? Like I was nothing to you? Why did you pretend you didn’t care when you—when you—" Another sob clawed its way out of your throat, your fingers trembling where they clung to him. “When you do this? When you hold me like this, like you actually—"
Your voice faltered, and Sunghoon inhaled sharply. His grip on you loosened, just enough for him to pull back slightly, just enough for him to see your face. His fingers, still shaking, brushed against your cheek, tracing over the tear-stained skin, his thumb wiping away the wetness that refused to stop falling.
His hands paused for a second.
And then—so, so softly—he spoke.
“I was scared.”
Your breath hitched.
“Scared?" you muttered, barely above a whisper.
He nodded, swallowing hard, his jaw clenching like he was fighting something inside himself. His fingers brushed against your cheek again, hesitating, before cupping your face fully, his touch impossibly gentle.
“I didn’t know how to handle it," he admitted, voice soft, filled with something unrecognizable. “I didn’t know how to handle you."
Your brows furrowed, your heart pounding painfully against your ribs.
“Sunghoon—"
“Everything in my life has always been about responsibility," he cut in, his grip on your face tightening slightly, not enough to hurt, but enough to make sure you were listening. “I was raised to be strong, to take over, to lead—to never let anything distract me from what I was meant to do."
His thumb traced the curve of your cheekbone, and his gaze softened—just barely.
“And then there was you.”
The words came out barely above a whisper, but they sent a shiver down your spine.
Sunghoon let out a shaky breath, his forehead nearly pressing against yours. “You were never supposed to be a part of that plan.”
Pain flared in your chest, sharp and unrelenting.
“So what?" you whispered, voice trembling. “You thought ignoring me would make it easier?"
His eyes squeezed shut, his expression twisting into something almost pained. “I thought if I pretended you didn’t exist, it wouldn’t hurt as much.”
A bitter laugh left your lips. “And did it?"
Sunghoon let out a slow breath, his hands stilling against your skin. His silence was the only answer you needed.
He was breaking, right in front of you.
And for the first time, you saw it. The fear in his eyes. The weight on his shoulders. The guilt, the regret, the want.
“You absolute coward," you whispered, fresh tears spilling down your cheeks. “You let your fear ruin everything. You let it destroy me."
Sunghoon inhaled sharply, his fingers pressing against your skin like he was afraid you would slip away.
“I know," he admitted, voice barely above a whisper.
And then, as if he couldn’t help himself, his hands moved again, thumbs tracing over your cheeks, smudging the mascara-stained tears without a care that his fingers were getting stained too.
He was looking at you now. Really looking at you.
Even with tear-streaked cheeks, even with mascara smudged against your skin, he thought you were beautiful.
You always had been.
And maybe that had been the scariest part of all.
He exhaled shakily, his forehead finally pressing against yours.
“I was so focused on all the responsibilities I had," he whispered, eyes fluttering shut, “that I forgot the most important one was right in front of me."
You. It had always been you.
And for the first time in forever, he stopped fighting it.
His hands trembled as he pulled you close again, wrapping you in his warmth, as if trying to make up for every second he had spent pretending you didn’t exist.
His heartbeat that was once steady, always controlled, was frantic against your cheek, like his body itself was betraying him, exposing everything he had kept hidden for so long.
“I’m sorry," he murmured against your hair, his voice soft, stripped bare of all the indifference he had once worn so easily.
Again.
“I’m so, so sorry.”
And again.
“I’m sorry."
Each word landed like a plea, an ache.
His hands clutched at the fabric of your dress, fingers curling against your back as he buried his face into your shoulder. His breaths were uneven, his hold desperate like he was afraid that if he let go, you’d slip through his fingers for good.
You squeezed your eyes shut, the feeling of his regret pressing against your chest like a force you weren’t sure you could withstand.
“I really hate you," you whispered, voice unsteady, and you felt the sharp inhale he took against your skin.
But you didn’t move away. Neither did he.
“I know," he murmured. He didn’t argue. Didn’t try to make excuses. He just held you.
You swallowed hard, fingers gripping the lapels of his suit. “I understand you more than you think."
A breath passed between you, thick with everything unsaid.
Slowly, hesitantly, he pulled back just enough to look at you, his hands moving from your back to cup your face. His thumbs brushed over your cheeks, wiping away the tear-streaked trails, smearing the black mascara that had run down your skin more than before.
His hands were shaking.
His fingers, stained with the remnants of your pain, trembled as they held you.
But he didn’t stop.
“You do?" His voice was so quiet, so uncertain, it almost broke you all over again.
You nodded. Because you did. You understood.
You had always known Sunghoon was never just the eldest son of his family, never just the heir, never just the perfect pureblooded Alpha everyone expected him to be. He carried burdens he never spoke of, expectations that weighed him down like chains.
And you understood now, you understood that loving you, wanting you, was the one thing he had never been taught how to handle.
Sunghoon exhaled sharply, his forehead nearly knocking against yours as he leaned closer, the warmth of his breath fanning across your lips.
“Can I kiss you?”
The words sent a violent shudder down your spine. Your breath caught, your heart twisting painfully in your chest.
Because this moment, this hesitation, this vulnerability in his voice—was not the Sunghoon everyone else knew.
This was the boy who had spent so long running. This was the boy who had finally stopped.
“It doesn’t mean you’re forgiven,” you murmured, even as your fingers curled against his chest.
For the first time that night, Sunghoon laughed. Soft. Shaky. Breathless. But real.
“I know,” he whispered, and then, slowly, finally, he closed the distance.
His lips met yours, and the world stopped spinning.
The first press of his lips was soft, like he was still afraid, still unsure if he deserved this, deserved you.
But then you exhaled against his mouth, a shaky breath that tasted like surrender, and something inside him snapped. The hesitation was gone.
Sunghoon’s hands, still cupping your face, tilted your head just enough for him to deepen the kiss, his lips moving against yours with a hunger that bordered on desperation. His body caged you in, pressing you against the cool wall behind you, but all you could feel was him—his warmth, his scent, his everything—surrounding you, consuming you.
His grip tightened. One hand slid down, fingers grazing your jaw, your throat, before curling around the small of your back and pulling you in.
Closer. Not close enough.
A small gasp escaped you, and Sunghoon swallowed it, exhaling a sharp breath against your mouth before chasing your lips again. His movements were rougher now, more frantic, like he was trying to pour every unspoken word, every regret, every missed moment into the kiss.
Like he was trying to prove something. That he was sorry. That he wanted you. That he needed you.
His other hand tangled in your hair, tilting your face up further, deepening the kiss until you felt dizzy, breathless—like you were floating, like you were falling.
And god, maybe you were. Maybe you had been all this time.
Your fingers fisted his suit, clinging to him. His lips, now hot and insistent, barely gave you a second to breathe—like he was terrified that if he pulled away, even for a moment, you’d disappear.
But you weren’t going anywhere.
You melted into him, letting yourself get lost in the moment, in the way his body trembled against yours, in the quiet, choked noise he made when your fingers finally, finally slid up to his hair.
It was intoxicating—the way he kissed you—like he was trying to make up for every second he had wasted, every touch he had denied himself, every moment he had spent pretending he didn’t want this.
Didn’t want you.
Your lungs burned, your heart pounded, and yet neither of you pulled away, unwilling to break whatever fragile, breathless thing had formed between you.
Sunghoon made a strangled noise against your lips before reluctantly—so reluctantly—he tore himself away just enough to rest his forehead against yours, his breath ragged, his lips red and swollen.
His eyes, dark and dazed, fluttered open to meet yours.
And then, barely above a whisper, voice wrecked, he murmured,
“Stay.”
A single word, but it held everything. A plea. A confession. A promise wrapped in desperation.
Your fingers tightened in his suit. “I’m not going anywhere, Sunghoon.” Your voice was steady, but thick with emotion. “Even when you push me away. Even when you try to pretend I don’t exist.”
His hands, still cupping your face, trembled. “Never again.” It came out like a vow. Like a prayer.
His thumbs brushed over your damp cheeks, smearing what remained of your ruined mascara. His grip on you didn’t loosen—if anything, he pressed his forehead against yours, inhaling deeply, as if he was making sure you were real.
The silence stretched between you, heavy, but not suffocating. Not anymore. Then, suddenly, he straightens—“We need to fix you up.”
You blinked. “What?”
Sunghoon pulled back slightly, scanning your face, your tear-streaked cheeks, the smudges of black under your eyes. Then, without another word, his fingers curled around your wrist, tugging you toward the restrooms.
“The female restroom is that way,” you pointed out, confused.
“I know.”
Your steps faltered. “You’re not allowed in there.”
Sunghoon scoffed, barely sparing you a glance. “As if I’m letting you out of my sight again.”
Your heart flipped.
Before you could protest, he pushed open the door, dragging you inside with him. The moment it clicked shut, he turned to you. “Up.”
You blinked. “What?”
Sunghoon rolled his eyes before gripping your waist and lifting you effortlessly, placing you onto the cool marble counter like you weighed nothing.
You gasped. “Sunghoon—”
But he was already turning to the faucet, pulling a Dior handkerchief from his pocket. You watched, breath caught in your throat, as he ran it under the water, fingers tightening around the fine cloth.
And then, with the utmost care, he turned back to you.
Your knees brushed as he stepped between your legs, his touch impossibly gentle as he cupped your face, tilting it slightly. The wet fabric pressed against your cheek, cool against your overheated skin, and Sunghoon—god, Sunghoon—wiped at the tear stains, the smudged makeup, his fingers brushing over your skin like he was handling something fragile.
Something precious.
You couldn’t stop staring.
The way his brows furrowed in concentration. The way his jaw clenched whenever he came across a particularly stubborn stain. The way his lips pressed together—like he was trying to hold back words he wasn’t ready to say.
The way he touched you. Like you were his. Like you had always been his.
Your heart pounded against your ribs.
And when he finally, finally met your gaze again, his own eyes filled with something unreadable—something raw—you realized, with stunning clarity, that you had never really stood a chance against Park Sunghoon.
Not then. Not now. Not ever.
A shaky exhale left your lips.
He was still staring at you, drinking in every detail, like he was memorizing the way you looked, the way your lashes trembled, the way your lips parted as if you had something to say but didn’t know how.
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” His voice was quieter than usual, but the tease was still there, laced with something softer.
You blinked, startled, feeling heat creep up your cheeks. “What?”
His lips curled slightly, but there was something about his smirk—something less sharp, less guarded. Something that made your pulse stutter. “You were staring.”
Your stomach twisted. Of course, he would notice. Your first instinct was to scoff, to roll your eyes, to dismiss it like you always did—but before you could, you felt it. The shift.
Your scent spiked—not in distress, not in discomfort, but in something else. Something sweeter.
The scent of honey and lilacs curled around him, delicate yet intoxicating, a confession wrapped in something neither of you had the words to say.
Sunghoon inhaled. Slowly. Deliberately.
His lashes fluttered for the briefest second, his fingers tightening just slightly around yours, before his smirk faded entirely.
And then, wordlessly, he leaned in.
He didn’t hesitate. Didn’t second-guess.
His lips found your forehead, pressing into your skin with the kind of tenderness that made your breath catch in your throat.
And he stayed there. Lingering. Savoring.
His breath was warm, brushing against your temple, the tip of his nose barely grazing your hairline.
You didn’t move. Couldn’t.
His thumb brushed over your cheek, the corner of his lips twitching slightly. “Come on,” he murmured, voice still hoarse.
You barely had time to process it before he moved, guiding you off the counter with his hands firm at your waist, catching you when your balance faltered.
But he didn’t step away. Didn’t loosen his grip.
Instead, his fingers threaded through yours, locking them in place as if letting go was never an option. You blinked up at him, breath uneven.
“You ready?” His voice was quieter now, softer in a way that made your breath hitch.
You swallowed, throat tight. Then slowly, you nodded. And just like that, he pulled you with him. Hand in hand.
The warmth of his palm was steady against yours, fingers locked. It wasn’t just an absentminded touch, wasn’t something he would let go of the second someone looked too long.
No, this was different. This was him choosing you. Claiming you as his mate. And the second you stepped out, the change in the atmosphere was immediate.
Silence. Then whispers. A sea of murmurs spread through the ballroom like wildfire, voices hushed yet urgent, their curiosity thick enough to suffocate.
Heads turned, eyes widened, people stared.
Alphas. Betas. Omegas.
They looked, and looked, and looked. Their shock crackled through the air like static electricity, palpable in every held breath, every barely concealed gasp, every sharp glance exchanged between one another.
You could feel their questions hanging in the air, unspoken yet deafening. Was this real? When did this happen? How did this happen?
Their gazes burned into your skin—some filled with intrigue, others laced with disbelief, and a few even brimming with something close to envy.
Because this wasn’t just anyone walking out of a room hand in hand with Park Sunghoon. This was you. And Sunghoon? He didn’t even blink.
He didn’t falter under the weight of their stares, didn’t acknowledge the whispers that carried his name in hushed, scandalized tones.
No, he just walked.
Back straight, shoulders squared, head held high. As if this had been the plan all along. As if this was exactly where he was supposed to be. And with every step forward, the hushed murmurs only grew.
Some Alphas scoffed—exchanging skeptical glances—as if trying to convince themselves they weren’t impressed. Some Omegas straightened, eyes wide with a mix of admiration and disbelief. Others, Betas included, simply watched, unable to look away, their expressions unreadable.
But none of them mattered. Not to you. Not to him.
Sunghoon’s grip on you remained firm, and even as the weight of the room threatened to crush you—even as the world outside of this moment blurred into nothing but an afterthought—one thing became blindingly clear.
You weren’t walking behind him. You weren’t trailing after him, waiting for him to decide when to let go.
No, you were right there, beside him. Right where he wanted you to be. And for the first time in a long, long time, you weren’t afraid to be seen.
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Sunghoon shot a smirk over his shoulder before tugging you even closer, his grip on your waist effortlessly firm. Your hands barely had time to react before his fingers slipped from yours—only to be replaced by the steady warmth of his palm pressing against the curve of your hip.
The moment you reached their designated table, all conversation died. The six boys stared, mouths slightly open, like they had collectively short-circuited.
“What the fuck?”
The words came from Sunoo, cutting through the silence. He blinked once. Twice. Then leaned back in his chair, hand over his chest like he had just witnessed a crime.
For a second, nobody spoke. Then, slowly, as if processing what he had just seen, Sunoo exhaled and shook his head in mock devastation.
“I feel like a proud dad,” he said, voice thick with fake emotion. “My boy finally grew a pair.”
Jake choked on his drink. Jay slapped the table. Ni-ki let out an actual wheeze, gripping his stomach like he physically couldn’t handle it.
Meanwhile, Sunghoon just sighed, clearly regretting every life choice that had led to this moment.
“Shut up,” he muttered, shoving Sunoo’s chair with his foot.
“Oh no, no, no,” Sunoo replied, shaking his head. “You don’t get to shut me up after making us sit through weeks of your bullshit. You brooded for so long.”
“You were insufferable,” Heeseung chimed in, still recovering from his initial shock.
“Actually unbearable,” Jake added.
Ni-ki snickered, nudging Jungwon. “Tell me I’m lying.”
Jungwon exhaled through his nose and pinched the bridge of it, like he was physically restraining himself from joining in. Instead, he turned to you.
“I respect you so much,” he said seriously, nodding. “For putting up with this.”
You smiled awkwardly at first, not really sure what to say. But then you caught the way they all looked at you—not like a stranger, not even like someone new. No, they knew you. Maybe not personally, but definitely through him.
Sunghoon had been avoiding his feelings, but he hadn't been quiet about them, either.
“I wouldn’t say patient,” you admitted, finally finding your words. “I just… didn’t want to force anything.”
Jay clicked his tongue, shooting Sunghoon a look. “You’re lucky she even gave you that chance, man.”
Jake leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. “You do realize you can’t run forever, right?”
Sunghoon groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “I wasn’t running.”
“Bro, you practically had track shoes on,” Ni-ki deadpanned.
Heeseung smirked. “But at least you were smart enough to stop and follow.”
Just as Sunghoon was about to retort, a flurry of movement caught everyone’s attention.
Across the room, Sunghoon’s sister, along with Heeseung’s mate and Jungwon’s mate, almost ran over to you, practically shoving through the crowd. Sunghoon barely had time to react before his sister skidded to a stop in front of the table, eyes blown wide.
“When did this happen?!” she demanded, breathless.
You blinked. “Uh… a few minutes ago?”
A sharp gasp.
“Oh my god,” Heeseung’s mate clutched his arm, her face pale as if she might actually pass out.
Heeseung sighed and started fanning her with his hand. “Breathe, babe. Breathe. You knew this would happen eventually.”
“Did I? Did I really?” she shot back, eyes still locked on you and Sunghoon like she was watching the finale of a long-running drama.
Jungwon’s mate wasn’t any better. She was bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet, excitement thrumming through her whole body. Jungwon, ever the responsible one, subtly reached over and stole her champagne glass before she could drop it.
“This is insane,” she whispered, eyes wide. “Like, historical. I need a moment.”
But while that mess was happening, Sunghoon’s sister was not celebrating the way the others were. No, she was glaring directly at Sunghoon, hands on her hips, looking like she was about to throw hands.
“You—” she started, voice rising.
Before she could even think about launching herself at her brother, Sunoo—who, unfortunately for Sunghoon, also happened to be her mate—stood up and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her back.
“Alright, alright, let’s not start a scene, love,” he said smoothly, voice light but firm.
She squirmed against his hold. “I just want to talk to him—”
“Liar,” Sunoo deadpanned.
“Park Sunghoon, you forced the poor omega to accept you as your mate, didn’t you?” she accused, jabbing a finger in his direction.
Sunghoon blinked. “Excuse me?”
“Yeah! You probably made (Y/N) feel like she had to accept you just because you’re all high and mighty—”
Sunoo sighed and pulled her back against his chest, locking both arms around her now. “Hoon, just let her get it out of her system. She’s been waiting for this day for too long.”
You stifled a laugh, shaking your head. “I actually said yes willingly, if that helps.”
Sunghoon’s sister froze. “You did? Like… willingly-willingly?”
“Willingly-willingly,” you confirmed, amused.
She blinked. Then sighed dramatically, leaning into Sunoo’s hold. “Well… okay. But if he screws this up, I will come for him.”
“Noted,” Sunghoon muttered.
Sunoo patted her head like she was an over-excited puppy. “There, there. You’ll survive this.”
Sunoo shot Sunghoon a smirk over her shoulder. “But man, you’re never living this down.”
Sunghoon groaned. “I hate all of you.”
Jay grinned, raising his glass. “Love you too, man.”
Sunghoon let out another sigh, but despite his grumbling, his hold on you was steady as he guided you toward an empty seat.
With ease, he pulled the chair out for you and waited until you sat down before moving to adjust the trail of your gown, making sure it was neatly tucked away so no one—especially him—would step on it.
The entire table had fallen eerily quiet.
It wasn’t an awkward silence. It was the kind of silence that felt like everyone was holding their breath, watching something unfold before them in real time, something they never thought they’d actually witness.
Even as Sunghoon straightened up, his focus remained on you. His eyes scanned your face with the same attention he always gave to important things, searching for anything he might’ve missed.
Apparently, he had missed something.
Without a word, he reached out, the pad of his thumb brushing against the edge of your eye, carefully swiping away the faintest smudge of mascara that had escaped his first attempt.
Your breath hitched.
But the Alpha wasn’t done.
Satisfied with his work, his fingers barely hesitated before they moved to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, letting his knuckles graze your cheek ever so slightly. The touch was brief, but it was enough to send a wave of heat rushing to your face.
You swallowed, pulse slightly unsteady, but managed to send him a grateful smile. “Thanks.”
Sunghoon hummed in acknowledgment, seemingly unaffected by the entire exchange as he finally settled into his own seat.
He exhaled, relaxed for the first time that night, before slinging an arm around the back of your chair—or maybe it was your waist, you weren’t even sure anymore. His fingers brushed against your side absentmindedly, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
And yet, the silence remained.
It was as if the group wanted to soak it in, to relish what they had just witnessed before fully reacting.
“I know they’re fated mates and all that,” Ni-ki mumbled, voice tinged with disbelief. “But this is shocking.”
“Right?” Jay breathed out.
“I never thought I’d live to see Sunghoon be so…” Jake trailed off, gesturing vaguely in Sunghoon’s direction.
“Domestic?” Heeseung guessed.
“Whipped,” Sunoo corrected.
Sunghoon let out a long, suffering sigh, tilting his head back against his chair. “Can you all just shut up?”
“Fuck no,” Sunoo said, smirking. “We’re never shutting up about this.”
Jake lifted his glass in mock toast. “To Sunghoon, for finally pulling his head out of his ass.”
Ni-ki followed suit, raising his drink with a grin. “To (Y/N) for somehow handling his brooding for weeks and still willingly agreeing to be his mate.”
Sunghoon groaned, muttering curses under his breath, but his arm around you didn't move.
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As the evening stretched on, your table of eleven had finally started to settle. The once chaotic energy mellowed into something softer—comfortable, easy.
Some of the boys were a little tipsy, their words slurring as they tried to argue over something completely irrelevant. Others remained to themselves, quietly nursing their drinks, letting the night wind down at its own pace.
But Sunghoon? Sunghoon was right beside you.
His arm had never left your waist, fingers idly tracing patterns against the fabric of your gown as if he needed the reminder that this was real. His other hand was laced with yours, his grip firm.
He held you like he wasn’t planning to let go anytime soon. And the scent—his scent, coffee and leather tinged with a lingering warmth—wrapped around you, mixing with your own like they belonged together.
You let yourself relax, melting into his hold as the voices around you became distant background noise. Sunghoon exhaled softly, shifting just a bit so he could rest his chin against the side of your head. It wasn’t something anyone else would really notice, but you did. You noticed the way his thumb brushed against your knuckles, the way his heartbeat was steady and slow against your back.
The rest of the table was lost in their own little worlds, some caught in their own quiet moments with their mates, others too caught up in conversation to pay attention.
Heeseung sat comfortably with his mate curled up against him, her head resting against his shoulder as he absentmindedly played with her fingers, their hands intertwined.
Jungwon was just as affectionate, his mate tucked against his side as he nursed a drink in his free hand. Unlike Heeseung, whose touches were slow and casual, Jungwon was openly doting, reaching up every so often to tuck a stray hair behind her ear or brush a kiss against her temple.
Sunoo, of course, was a little more dramatic with his affection. His mate—Sunghoon’s sister—had been sulking in his arms for the past several hours, still processing the events of the night. He cradled her easily, stroking a soothing hand over her hair as she grumbled into his chest.
“I just wasn’t prepared, okay?” she whined, her voice muffled. “This all happened so fast.”
Sunoo hummed, ever patient.
“You don’t understand.”
“I do, though.”
“No, you don’t.”
Sunoo rolled his eyes, pressing a kiss against the top of her head. “Fine, you win. I don’t.”
Meanwhile, Ni-ki was watching everything unfold like it was his own personal drama series. His eyes darted between all the couples, mouth slightly open in exaggerated disbelief. “Damn couples,” he muttered, half to himself, half to Jake, who only chuckled.
Sunghoon straightened, rolling his eyes. “Can I have a moment?”
“No,” Sunoo deadpanned, still holding Sunghoon’s sister against his chest. “You wasted weeks brooding. This is our moment too.”
Jake let out a loud laugh. “Yeah, man, we had to sit through so much.”
“I still have secondhand trauma,” Heeseung added.
Jungwon stole the champagne glass from his mate’s hand as he nodded in agreement.
Meanwhile, you just buried your face in your free hand, overwhelmed but undeniably warm inside. But before you could even fully process it, you felt his eyes on you, watching the way you tried to hide your flustered expression.
A low chuckle rumbled from his chest, and before you could react, he leaned in slightly, his voice dropping just for you. “You better get used to this,” he murmured, “because you’re gonna hear a lot more of this for a very long time.”
A very long time.
Forever felt like such a long time, but maybe it was worth it when you finally had your Alpha within arm’s reach.
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taglist: @hoonbrry @hime98 @chae-darling @moonchus @peatchiedii @creamkwan @nyfwyeonjun @whoe-dis @woonie-muffin @caelumsjy @90sni-ki @leiomorea @junjungsunwoo @in-somnias-world @notcamii @yizhoutv @lovesickth @elairah @graythecoffeebean @skyearby @ikeumina @blckorchidd @littlebambi-isdee @immelissaaa @jakesfurry @dreamy-carat @cristy-101 @m1kkso @h4niyahcar @firstclassjaylee
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© 2025 liuhsng — reblogs are highly appreciated and please don't hesitate to request some fics here if you want me to write anything !
668 notes · View notes
cloudyzeusy · 11 months ago
Note
PLEASSSSE!
omegaverse is invading my mind and at this point I'll go ballistic
Omega BF! Begging for puppies ♡
My omega boyfriend is the cutest always wanting to be around me. scenting me making sure every time I go out the so the omegas know I have a mate. so possessive its adorable.
so i love having him underneath me looking into my eyes as i fuck them.
"come on baby you can hold on a bit longer." i grunted as i felt his cunt tighten up below getting close to cumming.
"[name]~ please i can't i can't i want to." he moaned out body twitching.
"let go then i said thrusting slowly guiding him through it i watched his eyes roll back so i knew he had reached his peak. I didnt stop though pounding him harder ignoring the cries of overstimulation.
"where do you want me to cum on your face? huh or you want me to fill you up with my pups."
"please- I need it I want your pups~." making me smirk.
"do you?." i feinted ignorance "cause from the way you were acting I might give them to those other omegas."
"ah ah~ so mea-mean." he whined tears in his eyes I groaned feeling my self get closer to the edge.
I thrusted in one more time before filling him up I pulled out watching my cum flood out of his spent body. he looked so cute like this pliant and fucked out.
but before I forgot I grabbed the plug and stuffed him with my cum. plugging him up so my scent is with him from the inside out.
he's all mine. <3
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531 notes · View notes
absurdthirst · 2 months ago
Text
The Mismatch {Alpha!Dieter Bravo x Omega!F!Reader}
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 13.1k
Warnings: Alpha/Omega dynamics, mentions of social structures, classism, drug use (it's Dieter), mentions of bisexuality, deceit, jealousy, mentions of knotting, fighting, oral sex (female receiving), vaginal sex, knotting
Comments: Tired of living a life of debauchery, Dieter decides to use Omega Finder, to discover who is omega is. Witnessing this folly as his assistant, you know that he won't find her. Until he does, confusing you since you are his omega.
*** When reblogging or talking about Omegaverse, please remember that ‘a/b/o’ without the slash punctuation marks (/) is considered a slur for the Aboriginal people in Australia.
Co-written by @storiesofthefandomlovers
**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.
|| MasterList || Dieter Bravo MasterList ||
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Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.
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"Dieter. It's a pleasure to sit down with you today." The interviewer from The New York Times sits down with the actor. 
"It's a pleasure to be here." He smiles, his wedding ring flashing from the bright lights that have been set up in his living room.
"So, you've been married for ten years now. How are you enjoying married life?" The interviewer asks and Dieter grins, "it's amazing. I love her more and more every day. I never imagined it would be  like this." He declares and the interviewer nods, "you had an agency find your mate, correct?" Dieter nods, "yes...but it wasn't smooth sailing."
****
Everyday it surprises you that Dieter Bravo is an alpha. The neediness, the whining, the childish pouts when he doesn’t get his way or someone doesn’t recognize him on the street. You would have never guessed that he was an alpha before you started working for him. The alarm on your phone goes off, reminding you to take your suppressants and you pull the pill bottle out of your purse, popping one into your mouth as the trailer door flings open and Dieter rushes inside. The set makeup looks comical considering his eyes are widened and excited but the makeup is bold and dramatic. “I’m going to do it!” He cries out enthusiastically, making you frown. 
“Do what?” 
He huffs and rolls his eyes, expecting you to read his mind, you already anticipate every single one of his needs - right down to his drug resupply. “I’m going to find my mate!” 
Your eyes widen in shock, surprised that he would even consider that. “What? Why?”
Dieter looks up from his phone, "I want to find my omega. This agency...they will find them. They track the DNA data and find your mate...for a large fee of course." Dieter says and you sigh, knowing that the man is incapable of being monogamous. "Not available to the normies...you guys have MateMatch or whatever. This is for the elites who don't have time or the capacity to go out on dates sniffing for their omega." He snorts and looks in the mirror, "I want to settle down. Getting too fucking old now. I want my mate. My person." He declares, frowning at the wrinkles on his face.
Normies. Dieter thinks you are a beta. It doesn’t help that you have been on suppressants since before you worked for him, and you’ve never corrected him on his mistake. For good reason. Dieter does not need to know that you are an omega. “Dieter…” you sigh. “Your mate will expect you to be monogamous.” You remind him. “Biology will expect you to be monogamous. Once you are bonded….you can’t sleep around.”
Dieter rolls his eyes, “duh. I know that. I’m tired of waking up in a pile of bodies covered in cum and no one. No. One. Wants to cuddle me when the daylight is coming in the window. I don’t want to be alone for the rest of my life. I’m not stupid. I know that my looks and money will take me so far but when I’m shitting myself, who is gonna love me? My mate would.” He says dramatically, “I’ve made up my mind. The agency is already trying to find them.” He declares, “I’ll be a mated man in no time.”
You try not to huff, knowing he would pry and when Dieter wants to know something he will pester you until you give in. The truth is, he won’t find his mate easily, because she’s already standing in front of him. “Just…don’t get discouraged if it takes some time.” You offer, feeling slightly guilty about not telling him the truth and costing him a lot of money. You know he wouldn’t want you as his mate, you’re his assistant. The only reason you know that painful truth is because of a week he was away and your suppressants had run out. The shirt he had stuffed in your bag one night had called to you, making you go into heat until you could get a refill on your prescription. Blocking your scent again for when you were around him.
Dieter scoffs, "they are professionals. I bet I am married off before the end of the year. Dieter Bravo...serial monogamist. Now that would be a headline." He chuckles and reaches up to adjust his hair before he heads out onto set. 
It takes a couple of weeks but finally, Dieter gets the call. It's late after a long day of press junkets and Dieter is in the back of the town car beside you when his phone rings. "Hello?" He answers, putting it on speaking because he doesn't like the phone on his face. 
"Hi, Mr. Bravo. We have news." Shelley, the agency advisor says and Dieter bites his lip, nervous as fuck. "We found her!" Shelley declares and Dieter's eyes widen. 
"Oh wow. It's - it's a woman. Not that I'm complaining. I don't mind but - wow." He chokes, shocked that this is suddenly real.
You can hear everything, fingers twisted together and you hate how your gasp makes him turn towards you. They found you somehow? How did this company manage to get a sample of your DNA? You never allowed any of your blood to be put into a database. Shifting in your seat, you prepare for a difficult conversation with your boss about why you hid your omega status, and the fact that you are his mate.
“They found my mate.” He declares and Shelly continues to give Dieter the details. 
“Her name is Polly and she lives in San Fran. We are arranging for her to come here to L.A this weekend. She’s younger than you. 28. Blonde. Blue eyes. She’s fertile and ready to find her forever.” Shelley declares and Dieter shakes his head. 
“I can’t - I can’t believe it.” He grins and bids Shelley goodbye after confirming she will email the details. “Can you come with me to meet her? I’m- I’m fucking nervous.” He admits, his hands shaking slightly.
Stunned silent for a moment, you don’t know what to say. They couldn’t have found someone else, there’s never been a case of anyone having two mates. “I-um- Dieter….” 
He frowns, grabbing your hand. “Please, I need you. You know what to do to keep me calm. I can’t be high when I meet my mate.” He begs, making you bite your lip. 
“Yeah, I guess.” You murmur quietly, unsure if you need to tell him this company is lying to him.
He exhales shakily, squeezing your hand, “thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” He says, leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek. He feels a spark from your skin but he thinks it’s the tab he took before he left his trailer. “I need you there because I can’t afford to mess this up.” He stresses and you nod, a frown still on your face but he doesn’t notice.
You need to find out what company Dieter hired to find his mate, because they have fucked up royally. He lets go of your hand and you immediately start going through his schedule. If you know anything about him, he will want to have a chemical peel, to rejuvenate his skin and meet with that spiritual hack that he is convinced works miracles on his aura.
Dieter panics every single hour of the day until the moment arrives. He exhales shakily, his hands shaking and he's stone cold sober, not even a swig of booze. He looks over at you as he waits for his mate, dressed in a blue suit and his hair styled. "How do I look?" He asks, needing some reassurance.
He looks incredible. You’ve managed to never feel jealous throughout all the lovers that have come through Dieter’s bed. Never let yourself be jealous. Now you are. He’s excited and hopeful, a light in his eyes that you’ve never seen before. “Dee….” He turns that expectant smile on you and you know it’s not the time to talk to him about this Omega Finder agency, “you look great.” You admit. “All Alpha-y.”
He pushes his shoulders back, puffing out his chest with pride that you think he looks like an alpha. He has never conformed to what an alpha should be. Some extreme groups dictate that alphas should become first class citizens like it was before the Omega/Beta Civil Rights Act in the 50s. He has fought hard for equality in the wake of his biological makeup and he hopes he has provided a good road map for younger alphas looking to break the mold. He has a tugging in his chest, his eyes meeting yours, and he disregards it as nerves. 
Shelley from the agency enters the room and Dieter swallows down the words that were bubbling in his throat, words that were foreign to his tongue. He wanted to thank you for helping him with everything. "It's time." Shelley declares and Dieter adjusts his jacket, rolling his neck as he follows Shelley to meet his mate.
You trail along behind him, curious to find out what kind of person they have gotten to play Dieter’s omega. You hate how excited he is, knowing that he would never be this happy if he knew you were his mate.
Dieter enters the room that was set up to meet his omega and she is facing away from him until he is a few steps away. She turns just as he approaches her, a wide smile on her face. "Dieter, baby! My alpha!" She cries, throwing herself in his arms. His arms wrap around her. She's gorgeous. Like supermodel gorgeous and Dieter buries his face in her neck, breathing her in. Her scent is warm and inviting, making him melt against her, and he feels like this is right. This is his omega. He's read about how this moment should feel. How it should make him want to drag her off to bed right away, make him want to cover her in his scent, but maybe that was the old method. Times have changed and you can't just fuck someone you meet seconds before. He squeezes her waist and pulls back, leaning in to kiss her softly. "Omega." He declares, knowing the agency must know who his match is and he won't doubt it. He wants this. He wants to be settled down and if it's Polly, then it''s Polly.
You can smell her. You frown when the scent is one that you know well. It’s your scent! Your nose curls slightly, aware that something has been manipulated and you aren’t sure what. There is no way that she should smell like you.
Polly kisses him back, her eyes wide and a smile on her face as she takes in the appearance of her alpha. "You're so handsome." She coos, cupping his cheeks, and he smiles at her. "You're beautiful." He declares and she smirks, "oh I know." He chuckles, a little awkward at her confidence but it's not a bad thing.
You instantly dislike her. It’s the conceited aura dripping out of her pores, along with the fact that you know this woman is lying to Dieter. You swallow back the jealousy, wishing you had told Dieter the truth before now.
“So…should we go get dinner? Get to know each other?” He suggests and she nods. Dieter feels a little more confident as he takes her hand in his and turns to look at you. “You booked the restaurant, right? I booked the whole place. I didn’t want us to be interrupted and it’s early days so the press would disturb us.” He explains to Polly who beams at the news that Dieter rented out an entire restaurant for her.
You snort, knowing you are the one who had called the restaurant to reserve the entire thing. It hadn’t been easy and you had to promise the entire staff exorbitant tips to make up for there only being one guest. Dieter’s LLC would pay it. You’ll have Dieter sign photos later on to give the staff too on the promise not photos or autographs tonight.
Polly squeals in excitement and Dieter’s smile falls slightly at the annoying sound. He doesn’t want to rip her clothes off. She’s beautiful but she’s like a lot of women his PR team set him up to date. Still, she’s his mate, his omega. You can’t deny science and biology. Her scent was mouthwatering and he can’t wait to get to know her more. “Shall we go?” Dieter asks, holding his hand out to Polly who nods and Dieter turns to look at you, “you’re dismissed. Thanks for helping.” He says, his eyes flat as he looks at you.
“Of course.” It hurts, it cuts deep when he looks at you like you are a piece of furniture but that's what you deserve for not being honest with him. “It’s my job.” You can’t watch the gorgeous woman drape herself over him for another second so you turn and walk to the door, wanting to get away from them and figure out what to do next.
****
“So…what’s it like being an Oscar winner?” Polly asks Dieter over dessert. 
Dieter sighs, setting his fork down, “it’s…a lot of pressure. The expectations are higher. When I was just getting started, I was constantly fighting, battling for screen time and now? I don’t even need to audition. It feels like I have let myself get lazy.” He admits and Polly shakes her head, “that just means you get the bigger jobs. More money. That’s success baby.” She winks and Dieter nods, “I guess so but I miss being a struggling artist sometimes.” He confesses and Polly giggles, thinking he’s joking. He chuckles alongside her, going along with “the joke.” When the date is over, Dieter pulls her close to kiss her, his head tilting to deepen the kiss and she cups his cheeks, sliding her tongue against his. Neither of them know that one of the kitchen staff that didn’t sign an NDA snaps a photo that will be splashed over the papers tomorrow. “Dieter and his omega” the headlines will read. 
****
“So did you know when you met her that she was your mate?” The interviewer asks, tilting his head, and Dieter chuckles. 
“No. Not really. Everyone talks about how you instantly connect. The romance movies that show the alpha and omega immediately kissing but that wasn’t what happened with me. It was slow. It took a while to recognize her and when I did, it was spectacular.” 
****
Dieter kisses Polly when she arrives at his house, ushering her inside. They have been dating for a few weeks, commuting between San Fran and L.A. “You got those spring rolls that Pol likes?” Dieter asks you when you set the take out bag down. It’s been chaotic since the press found out about his mate but he’s handled it, leaning into the story about wanting to find his omega. Polly handled it with grace and he’s ready to take the next step if she is tonight.
“Yes.” The answer is clipped, short. Annoyed that his ‘omega’ has started texting you demands like you work for her. When your priority is Dieter. 
“What’s wrong with you?” He huffs, pouting that you are being short with him. Dieter loves nothing more than to be adored and since Polly has shown up, your temper has been easily provoked. 
“Nothing.” You sigh, reminding yourself that you signed up for this. You didn’t tell him the truth. “Dee….are you sure the company is right?” You venture. “That she’s your omega?”
Dieter glances over at Polly who is on the phone to her friend and he shakes his head. “Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to? I paid five hundred grand for them to find my mate and you think they are wrong? No way. She’s - she’s perfect for me.” His voice wavers slightly as the doubts that he keeps in the back of his mind jump out in the form of his assistant.
Your eyes widen slightly when he tells you how much he paid, making your stomach churn and your gag reflex almost make you retch. “Sorry.” You mumble quietly, looking down at the bag and pulling out the food that he had requested for an at home date. He’s become more closed off since ‘finding his omega’ and you miss the boss that you could ask him anything and get an answer. “Do I need to go see Tommy?” You ask quietly, wanting to know if he needs a resupply on his drugs.
Dieter glances back over his shoulder at Polly. Dieter nods, knowing he needs to restock. “Yeah. Tell him to send an invoice. He knows I’m good for it.” Dieter whispers, not wanting Polly to know he’s still doing drugs. She told him when they were having dinner that he needed to change his drug habit…and his wardrobe.
You nod, although you don’t say anything. Dieter has changed and while you are proud that his drug usage has lessened, he’s not doing it for himself. There will be a moment where he over indulges and you hate that. It’s another reason why you had never let him know that you are his mate, you didn’t want to demand he stop doing what he wanted. “I will arrange it, sir.” You revert back to the more formal interaction, knowing that Polly prefers that. “Will that be all?”
Dieter stares at you for a moment, tilting his head as his stomach twists with something unknown. “Dee Dee, I’m starving.” Polly groans as she walks into the kitchen. 
“No. That’s all.” Dieter murmurs and you nod, glancing at Polly who hums at you, narrowing her eyes. You don’t say another word as you leave and Dieter stiffens as Polly’s hand slides down his back. 
“I want you, Alpha.” She coos and Dieter sighs, knowing this moment would come and he hopes it’s everything he has heard sex between mates is. He guesses his venture into drugs and multiple partners was in vain to recreate that feeling that so many have described as unlike anything they have ever experienced. Tonight, he’s going to have that with Polly.
Out in your car, you sigh, closing your eyes to hold back the tears that you don’t deserve to shed. You chose this, you let all this happen and Dieter couldn’t be happier with a woman who wasn’t you. His ‘mate’. You think you know what’s going on, but you can’t prove it, and hating that you can’t just go off your suppressants to prove that you are his mate. He would accuse you of manipulating your scent, which is exactly what Polly is doing. “Fuck.” You hiss, leaning back and starting the engine. You need to get away from here before you go back inside and beg Dieter to knot you.
The dinner is cleared away and the TV plays some show but Dieter isn’t paying attention. Polly notices and leans in to kiss him, straddling him, and it progresses from there. Dieter can be a selfish lover, he’s ashamed to admit that, but this is his mate so he goes down on her. Her arousal doesn’t make him ravenous like others have described but he guesses it’s him. He’s killed his taste buds with acid. He makes her cum and then finally, he’s sliding inside of her. His head feels heavy but he kisses her, rocking into her until she clamps down on his cock and he grunts when he cums. No knot. He pulls out of her when he goes soft moments later and she kisses along his chest as she curls around him. He didn’t knot her. He frowns as she coos his name and he doesn’t know what he did wrong.
“That was amazing.” Polly makes sure that her tits are against his chest, her leg thrown over his as she toys with one of his nipples. She's heard a lot of wild things about Dieter Bravo over the years and while he wasn’t as unhinged as she’s heard, maybe it’s because this is the first time. It’s supposed to be romantic. “You are amazing and I’m so glad I’m yours, alpha.”
Dieter hums, turning his head to softly kiss her, his hand sliding along her spine. She’s his omega. He can’t deny that since the agency found her based on her DNA. He is hers and she is his. “Me too.” He murmurs, trying to push aside the feeling that something is off. 
****
“So why did you decide to speak to us now? You’ve won seven Oscars. Produced multiple movies. Why did you decide to tell your story?” The interviewer asks and Dieter smiles, “because it’s about her. My omega. I wanted to tell the world and explain what happened. In my own words.” He looks down at his wedding ring with love in his eyes.
****
Dieter hisses your name from across the room. Polly is on the computer in the office across the house, shopping with his card. She’s moved into his home within the past three months and Dieter is happy. He’s happy to have someone to talk to. Even if that person was you before Polly was found. He loves her, he does. She’s beautiful. You walk over to where he’s standing in the kitchen and he opens the cabinet door, pulling a small velvet box from the cereal bowl that never gets used. “What do you think? Think she will like it?” He asks, opening the box.
Your mouth goes dry, eyes fixed in the ring in his hand and you can’t believe how much Dieter has changed. You had expected him to screw up, honestly. You had been there for the end with Anika and Kate, witnessed firsthand the self-destruction that he was capable of. It was one of the reasons you had not admitted your discovery to him. The ring is beautiful and you hate it. You hate that Polly is lying to him and telling him the truth is going to break his heart. “You can’t marry her.” You blurt out, looking up into his eyes. “She’s not your mate.”
Dieter narrows his eyes, “what did you just say?” He hisses, glancing over his shoulder to make sure Polly isn’t nearby, that she hasn’t come into the room. 
“She - she isn’t your mate.” You stammer at the look in his eyes as he glares at you. 
“Who the fuck do you think you are? Questioning my mate? How fucking dare you.” He hisses, “you’re just jealous. Is that it? Because you’re alone and you haven’t found anyone. Fuck, I can’t - you are fired.”
Your mouth drops open in shock, unable to believe that Dieter just fired you. You’ve been with him for years. “Dieter-“ he shakes his head and holds his hand out. 
“Give me your keys.” He demands, his voice rough with anger. “Please- just listen to me-“ he cuts you off. 
“I don’t want to hear it!” He shouts, chest heaving with fury. “You’re jealous that I’m happy, that I found my mate!” He yells. “That you don’t even have a mate, since you’re nothing but a Beta.” 
Your chin trembles, never imagining Dieter would insult you for his (wrong) idea that you are a beta. “Fine.” Tears are pooling in your eyes and you dig into your pocket to pull out your keys. “Don’t blame me when you are miserable.” You hiss. “Or when you are fucking unhappy when you can’t knot her. Because she’s not your mate.” You slap his key into his palm and start to gather your things.
Dieter falters because he didn’t knot Polly last night or any night before that. How the fuck did you know that? He stares at you and clenches his fist around the key. His eyes narrow and he shakes his head, “get the fuck out. I can’t - she’s my mate. She’s my omega. How dare you argue that.” He growls and hates that you leaving is more upsetting than him not being able to knot Polly.
You sadly shake your head and sigh. “I’ve never had anything but your best interests in mind, Dieter.” You remind him quietly. “I hope you are blissfully happy with your ‘omega’.” You turn around and walk towards the door without saying anything else. You will have to call his manager and let him know, Dieter will need another assistant. You open the door and pause, looking back at the handsome alpha. “Goodbye, alpha.”
Dieter watches you go, his heart aching from losing you. You're not only his assistant but also his friend. "Good riddance." He tells himself as he sets the key down just as Polly appears with a smile on her face. 
"Hey baby." She coos, leaning in to kiss him and Dieter sighs, barely able to kiss her back. Polly pouts as she pulls back and runs her fingers through his hair. She needs to make him cut it, he looks better with it shorter. And to take that ridiculous earring out. “What’s the matter, baby?” She asks, pressing up against him. “You look sad. Can I cheer you up, somehow?”
Dieter turns his head to press his lips to hers. Maybe he was in his head last night. He slides his tongue against hers, deciding that he will be taking her to bed again. “You can cheer me up by letting me make my little omega cum.” He murmurs against her lips and she giggles, grabbing his hand to drag him into his bedroom. The ring is still in the drawer and he will give it to her in the next few days. He wants this. He wants to be settled.
****
“I was afraid of that.” Dieter’s longtime manager, Martin, sighs on the other end of the line. “His…omega has made comments about being ‘uncomfortable’ having an unattached Beta being his assistant.” 
You grit your teeth, wanting to tell him that you aren’t a beta and that Polly was a fucking scheming liar. Except you will just look pathetically jealous. “I’ve updated his calendar, but I guess I need to mail the laptop and the phone to you.” You tell him. “Unless you want me to drop it by?”
Martin really hates losing you. You managed to keep Dieter on schedule and on time. “Yeah. I guess you can mail it. Use the card and put the card in there too.” He says, rubbing his cheek. “You know he wants to marry her?” Martin asks and you hum, trying to not let your feelings show through. “I think it’s a mistake.” Martin admits, “but you can’t deny biology.” 
****
“So how was the proposal? When you asked her to marry you?” The interviewer asks and Dieter smiles softly, “it was perfect. I couldn’t have planned it better and when she said yes…I swear my heart was gonna explode.” He sighs and the interviewer chuckles at the look on his face. “I was the same with my omega.” 
****
“Will you marry me?” Dieter asks as he kneels down in front of Polly. The display on a private beach is all for her. The display of roses, the sign, the fireworks, the candlelit dinner. All for his omega. 
“Yes! Yes! Yes!” Polly squeals and Dieter grins, standing up to kiss her. She wraps her arms around his neck and he breathes her in, that smell that has become familiar to him but doesn’t feel like home. Not like he’s been told. He ignores that and poses for the photos that will be published in the magazine. “Give them something and they will leave you alone.” His PR girl, Sally, told him when he protested having the engagement photos published. They will be printed tomorrow for the world to see.
You groan as you close the page on your phone, unable to stomach the sight of that smiling little fake, the gorgeous diamond ring gleaming in the photo as she caresses his chest. You’ve done a little research on Polly and she’s a failed actress. She’s been obsessed with Dieter and you think that she’s somehow gotten the agency to tell Dieter that she’s his mate. It’s frighteningly easy to clone the pheromones for a mate and they even do gland implants for those that wish to be an Omega and aren’t. You can’t help yourself and open the article again, looking at Dieter closely. Wondering if you are just imagining the uneasy edge to his eyes.
****
Dieter stares in the mirror, his hair cut shorter than he likes, and he sighs, wondering who it is staring back at him. Ever since he proposed to Polly three months ago, he’s gotten whiplash from how fast the wedding was planned. He barely got a say in the wedding plans after he paid for her to hire a planner and now here he is. His tux is pristine and he brushes down the non existent dust. So different from the man who would wear stained and hole ridden sweats. He still hasn’t knotted Polly. She said it could be because of the drugs so he’s given up everything but weed and the occasional molly. 
He invited you, wanting you to be here even if you are upset. He hasn’t spoken to you since that fateful day and he hopes he can reconcile with you. His chest has been aching since the day you walked out the door.
The invitation sits like a spector, mocking you as the elaborate gold leaf script announces the union between Dieter and Polly. An ‘amalgamation of love between an alpha and his omega’. The description makes you want to throw up. Still, you are touched that you received an invitation, feeling like it’s Dieter’s way of extending an olive branch. There’s no way Polly would have invited you willingly. You think about your closet, wanting to be well dressed while you witness your mate marry someone else.
****
“It sounds like a true romance between you and your leading lady. So, how was the wedding day? Everything you both dreamed of?” The interviewer asks Dieter who sighs with fondness of his memory of the day. 
“It was perfect. We declared our union in front of the world and it was intimate and everything I wanted.” He admits, “I can’t believe it’s been ten years since we ever married. What is the anniversary? Tin?” Dieter asks the interviewer who nods, “and the traditional gift is a diamond.” 
Dieter chuckles, “oh I know. I got her a beautiful new ring.” He says, proud of himself.
****
“I’m sorry ma’am, you aren’t on the guest list.” You frown at the security and reach into your clutch to pull out your invitation. 
“I have an invitation, right here.” You protest, showing them your name on the heavy card stock. “I can show you my license, I’m not crashing the wedding, I’m invited. I used to be Dieter’s assistant.” 
The larger man shakes his head and shrugs. “I guess you’ve been uninvited. No one gets in that isn’t on the list. By order of the bride.” 
You hiss in annoyance and take a deep breath. “Then I guess that I got dressed up for nothing.” You smile and turn from doors and walk back towards your car, wondering if there’s another way to talk to Dieter before the ceremony.
Dieter adjusts his cufflinks that Polly picked for him. She picked the most expensive thing for every detail of the wedding. It’s not like Dieter couldn’t afford it but he didn’t get to decide anything. It’s also being filmed for Vogue. Something that Dieter was against but Polly begged him and he couldn’t deny his mate. His mate. It sounds wrong but how can he deny biology?
Sneaking around the side of the building, you have slipped your shoes off because the heels are killing you and grabbed a bouquet of flowers to bring in, like you are a part of the florists crew. The staff is hurrying around and some of them throw you a grateful look as you set down the beautiful place setting where the others are clustered. Slipping down the halls to try to find Dieter.
Dieter exhales when the wedding planner comes over to tell him it’s nearly time. He sighs and adjusts his bow tie just as he looks over at the French doors in his groom’s suite. His eyes widen when he sees you standing there, heels in hand. He opens the doors and he gasps, “what are you doing here?”
“Dieter..” You drop your shoes and rush towards him. “You can’t marry Polly. She’s not your omega, she’s lying.” You stress, trembling with fear that he will just throw you out. “I know she’s not your mate, because I’m your real omega.” You had stopped taking your suppressants after Dieter fired you, letting your true scent come out as your glands started working again.
Dieter’s jaw drops and then he inhales. It hits him like a train. Your scent. More concentrated than Polly’s and more delicious. His cock hardens and his heart is pounding as he takes another breath. “What - how - but Polly- she?” He chokes, confused and torn. He wants to rip your clothes off right now. He closes his eyes, rubbing them to try and stop his head pounding.
“She lied to you.” You tell him quietly. “She had a gland transplant.” You had researched the procedures and you are sure that’s what she’s done. “I- I knew you would hate that your assistant was your mate, so I didn’t say anything when you used the agency. I thought they would never find me.”
He is so confused. You smell delicious but how does he know you’re not lying? The thought makes his stomach twist and he inherently knows it’s not true. “Why didn’t you - shit. She / the agency and Polly. How - I don’t understand.” His chest tightens and he starts to shorten his breath as his mind goes foggy.
“I don’t know how she did it, but she got them to lie to you.” You step forward, biting your lip. “I tried to tell you, I didn’t know how.” You admit quietly. “When I tried, you fired me. I thought you were happy, that you enjoyed still having that freedom that comes with not being with your mate.”
Dieter feels like he’s going to throw up. Your scent wafts over him, his cock hard in his pants and he shifts to sit down on the end of the bed in the groom’s room. He heaves, trying to process the mess he’s made by buying into Polly’s lies. 
He squeezes his eyes and that’s when you sing. “When I get older, losing my hair. Many years from now. Will you still be sending me a Valentine?” He opens his eyes, shocked that you’re singing his song. His comfort song. “Birthday greetings bottle of wine. If I'd been out till quarter to three Would you lock the door?” You sing and stand in front of him. “Will you still need me, will you still feed me?” You sing and he raises his head and sings along with you “when I'm sixty-four.” 
His eyes are wide, “how - how did you know - that song?” He chokes, his heart pounding in his chest.
“It’s your favorite song.” You whisper quietly. “You listen to it when you think no one is around. When you’re feeling lonely.” Swallowing harshly, you shake your head. “I fucked up, Dee.” You admit. “I was so convinced you didn’t actually want to find your mate that I didn’t trust you with the truth. It’s hurt so badly to deny what I need, on the basic, biological level.” You close your eyes. “If you love Polly, really love her and want her to be yours, I’ll leave.” You promise. “You’ll never see me again. You can have your happy future. I just-“ your eyes open again and you find his dark conflicted ones. “I want my alpha to be happy.”
Your words hit him like a brick wall and he stares at you. You stare back for a moment until you think you have your answer and you turn to leave. Dieter’s hand reaches for yours and he pulls you down into his lap, his nose buried in your scent gland so he can breathe you in properly. You’re his. His omega. He can’t get enough, inhaling your scent and he kisses your skin, making you whimper. That’s when he can’t hold back. His lips find yours and he cups the back of your neck, pressing you against him so he can slide his tongue into your mouth.
The shiver that runs through you is powerful, your body lighting up in pleasure as his tongue flicks inside your mouth. Nipples hardening and your cunt starting to get soaked from the scent of your alpha and the electricity that runs through your body as he touches you. Moaning quietly as you immediately submit to him, whining slightly when his fingers press against your glands at your wrist.
It’s indescribable how you feel, how he feels. Your scent clouding his senses and he can’t seem to get enough of you. His tongue slides against yours and his hands slide down to grab your waist, pulling you to straddle him and his cock is throbbing as you grind down against him. “Fuck. Omega.” He pants, “my omega.” He murmurs, his body recognizing you in a way it never recognized Polly.
You are caught up in it for a moment. Your heart racing with pure joy that he recognizes you, he sees that you are his mate. “Dee, Dieter-“ you pant as you pull away from him, aware that he is still technically engaged to another woman. “We - we can’t. You’re still- Polly.” Despite her deceit, you aren’t the kind of woman who betrays. 
He pants, resting his forehead against yours. “Shit.” He hisses, knowing he has to go out there and tell the world Polly isn’t his omega. “Baby, I have an idea. Revenge. A dish best served cold.” He smirks and cups your cheek, “I have a plan.” He declares, “I am going to wait for her to walk down the aisle and tell her what I know.”
“You are?” Your eyes widen dramatically and you know how embarrassing it will be for her to be exposed to the world like that. She deserves it though, she knows that she’s not his mate and she tricked him. “Dee- that means people will be asking how you didn’t know. Questioning that you didn’t knot her before now.”
Dieter nods, “I know. I’m going to tell them the truth. I thought I’d taken too many drugs that I couldn’t knot anyone. That could still be the case.” He warns you, “I just don’t know how she managed to fool me with your scent. How did she know? How did she get the agency to believe she was my mate?” He asks, pondering the situation while his hands caress you, comforted by your presence.
“I don’t know.” That’s the part that you haven’t figured out, no one at the agency would talk to you now that you aren’t Dieter’s assistant. “But I’m sure that you can find out, especially since you will be damaging their company image.” Your fingers sink into his hair and you scratch his scalp gently. “You cut your hair.” You hum. “I like it longer.”
He scoffs, “Polly likes it shorter.” He hates that he changed for her. “Come on, I have a wedding to ruin.” He smirks and helps you off his lap. “After it’s over, I want you, omega. For as long as you’ll have me.” He murmurs, caressing your cheek just as the doors open and the wedding planner walks in. Her eyes widen at the sight of you and Dieter so close and he lowers his hand. “We ready?” He asks, his back straightening and his voice taking on the alpha edge that he rarely uses.
You shiver slightly at the command that he has in his voice and you know that it’s inevitable that Dieter will have you tonight. You still wonder if he has ever wanted you or if it’s just because of your biology, but you can talk about this later. Right now, you have to stop Polly from scamming your alpha.
The wedding planner looks down at your bare feet and she looks back at Dieter who narrows his eyes at her, “we are ready.” He repeats and the wedding planner nods, jarred by his commanding tone, and they escort him through the halls. Dieter walks down the aisle without finesse, his hand holding yours and he sits you down on the front row, ignoring the murmurs and curiosity from the crowd. Half of whom he doesn’t even know who they are. He adjusts his jacket and stands straight, waiting for Polly to make her entrance.
You turn to look at her, having to admit that she looks beautiful. Her smile is beaming and bright as she walks serenely down the aisle. Obviously happy to be the center of attention. Until she spots you. She freezes for half a heartbeat and then her smile turns slightly wooden. Not that good of an actress as she picks up the pace slightly to meet dieter in front of the priest.
Dieter takes her hand when she approaches the floral arch that cost Dieter more money than he knows and he offers her an Oscar winning smile. He lets the officiant begin, speaking about the sanctity of marriage, of mating, and the unbreakable bond between Alpha and Omega. The words are ironic to Dieter but he doesn’t let that show. Cameras taking in his expression and when the officiant asks if anyone knows why they shouldn’t be wed, Polly turns her gaze to you. You remain silent and she narrows her eyes slightly, relieved that you didn’t make a scene. “Do you, Dieter Damian Bravo, take Polene Marie Smith to be your lawfully wedded wife?” The officiant asks and Dieter drops her hands, “no.” He declares and the crowd gasps. 
“Dieter. I don’t - what-?” Polly chokes and Dieter scoffs, turning to address the crowd. “This woman is not my omega. She somehow conned the agency I hired to find my mate into putting her forward. She had a gland implant and manufactured the scent of my real omega to fool me into believing she was mine. She’s not. She’s a fraud.” He growls, pointing at Polly.
“That’s not true!” Polly cries, shaking her head furiously and grabbing for Dieter’s hand, but he jerks away from her. “I am your Omega! I am! I have always been yours, from the moment I met you, saw you, I knew you were my mate!” She presses her fingers to her scent gland and holds it out to him. “This is real, my scent - it’s your mates!” She technically is right but you scoff and shake your head.
Dieter rips his hand from hers, shaking his head, “you’re right. It is my mate’s but that isn’t you. It’s her.” He points to you on the front row and the crowd gasps again. “You’re not my omega. Fuck, I couldn’t knot you. I thought there was something wrong with me but it’s you. It’s not me. You’re not my omega.” Dieter hisses and the crowd murmurs as shock ripples through the crowd.
Your eyes widen when he admits to the world that he hadn’t knotted her. The fact that this is being broadcasted live because of her obsession with Dieter’s fame means that there is no way that this scandal is going to be swept away. “How did you do it?” You demand. “Did you trick the company, or did Omega Finder knowingly scam a rich and famous client?”
Polly slumps, knowing the jig is up. Tears in her eyes as she looks at you then her eyes slide over to Dieter. "I have loved you since you were in Hunger Strike. I knew you were mine. I just needed to get close to you. My friend started working at Omega Finder and he - he messed up so I blackmailed him. Made him match me with Dieter in the system. I got a gland transplant when he found out who Dieter's actual omega is and I - I copied the scent listed. I am a beta. I just - I love you so much." She chokes, stumbling towards Dieter but he shakes his head, stepping away from her in shock.
You close your eyes in relief that she has admitted it. Now no one will think that you are somehow tricking Dieter. You sigh quietly and step forward, reaching for your alpha and placing a hand on his chest. “Since Omega Finder messed up, I’m sure they will give your money back,” you tell him, sure the company will face major backlash.
Dieter wraps his arm around your waist, “I don’t care about the money. They did end up helping me find my omega in the end.” He offers you a smile and leans in to kiss you softly. Polly sobs, throwing her veil down on the floor and she rushes down the aisle followed by her bridesmaids. Dieter caresses your cheek and inhales your scent, not tainted by chemicals. “Since the wedding is all set up…would you like to marry me?” He asks, “I know this isn’t what you picked out but I want to be joined to you in every way.”
“It is a little gaudy for my taste.” You admit with a small laugh. “More formal, but I don’t care about that.” You reach up and caress his cheek. “I’ll marry you now, alpha. I don’t want anything more than you.” You know that he can be immature and needy, but he is also kind and loving. The yearning in his eyes for you makes your heart melt.
Dieter grins, leaning in to kiss you once more until he pulls back and addresses the chattering crowd. “I know you all came here today expecting me to marry my omega and plans have changed but the reason for you all coming here today hasn’t changed. I am going to marry my omega. If anyone wishes to leave, please do it now because in five minutes, this gorgeous creature will be mine in the eyes of the state of California.”
You turn towards dieter as everyone starts to chatter amongst themselves. You know people will talk, and leave the wedding. Mostly Polly’s family and friends but a lot of people will stay merely to be curious. “I know it’s not a wedding dress, but this is okay?” You ask, gesturing to your outfit.
"You look fucking gorgeous. You always do. I know that I didn't treat you the best and I - I have learned a lot of lessons from this faux mating. You have always been gorgeous and I noticed but I was terrified to lose the best woman I've ever known. You are an incredible assistant and I didn't want to overstep and lose you so I never mentioned that I thought you were gorgeous and smart and funny and so, so sexy." He rambles slightly, unsure now that the drama is over.
You laugh at how ridiculous you both have been. “And I didn’t think you ever even looked at me that way.” You admit, smiling broadly. “I was afraid that you would be disappointed I am your omega, so when I found out, I didn’t say anything. I have always thought you are sweet, goofy, funny.” You promise. “But I also believe that you are a good alpha. You strive to not dominate, but you still have so much strength. It’s sexy, you’re sexy, but you know that.”
Dieter flushes slightly at your words and he reaches for your hand, bringing your wrist to his nose so he can breathe you in. “Fuck, you smell good. I bet you taste delicious.” He murmurs, kissing your pulse. The wedding planner, frazzled, comes over with a wedding license for you to sign. You should have your passport but Dieter can pull strings.
You sign your name eagerly, unable to believe that this is happening. You had thought you would have to watch your alpha marry someone else. Watching as Dieter signs it too and hands it back to the wedding planner. “Let’s get married!” He shouts, making the crowd of wedding attendees laugh. You wish you had put on your shoes, but it doesn’t matter now. Nothing matters but you and Dieter bonding and mating.
The officiant settles everyone down and you and Dieter hold hands as he begins his speech, modified for this new twist. "I gotta say I have never done a mating ceremony like this." He chuckles and the crowd laughs. Dieter only has eyes for you, his focus on you as he repeats the vows and when the officiant asks for the rings, Dieter shakes his head. "I don't want her to have that ring." He says, gesturing to the gaudy ring Polly picked out. He reaches up to take his necklace off, a small delicate ring looped through it. "This was my mother's. I want you to have it. I'll get you a proper ring later." He promises, sliding the ring onto your finger.
“It’s beautiful, Dee.” You promise, knowing that while it may not be flashy, its sentimental value makes it priceless. Instantly falling in love with it. You bring his hand up and kiss his knuckles, “I will keep it safe for our son or daughter to have one day.”
His grin is blinding and he kisses the back of your hand. You slide the ring he picked out onto his finger and moments later, the officiant declares you husband and wife. Dieter wastes no time surging forward to press his lips to yours.
Dieter’s lips pressed to yours makes every nerve in your body light up. Feeling like electricity is coursing through your body and you cling to him while the audience starts to clap and cheer for you. You don’t even care that the entire thing is being televised, just that you are where you belong.
Dieter pulls back and grabs your hand, guiding you down the aisle and you are still barefooted. When you are alone in the hall, he grabs your waist and presses you against the wall, his mouth descending upon yours once again.
Your hand curls around his neck as you drag him impossibly close. Moaning when his tongue slides into your mouth and tangles with yours. It’s completely overwhelming and beautiful. Feeling his cock harden against your hip, you whimper as you imagine actually taking him, your alpha, for the first time. “We have- the reception.” You pull away to remind him breathlessly.
He sighs, resting his forehead against yours. “Shit. Let’s - let’s have a dance. Have some cake. Then I want to take my beautiful wife to bed.” He murmurs, nudging his nose against yours. He’s excited, his cock throbbing, but he has to be patient. “And I want us to take photos for our kids.”
You can’t believe that Dieter is talking about kids. You’ve never known him to do that, but maybe it’s different with you, his omega. “We won’t stay too long.” You promise. “They can party without us, while we do our own kind of celebrating.”
Dieter smirks, “I like the way you think, baby.” He kisses you again just as the wedding planner comes over to usher you over for photos. You pose with Dieter, knowing these photos will be splashed over every magazine and social media page but you take them with your future in mind. After the photos are done, you and Dieter enter the reception hall to loud cheers and he guides you onto the floor for your first dance. “Don’t worry. I told the wedding planner to make sure the song was changed.” He and Polly didn’t have a song so he let her pick it but now he’s picked out the first dance. “When I get older, losing my hair.” The Beatles begins to play and you giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck and he starts to sing along.
You smile as Dieter coos off key to the lyrics of the song. Not caring about that at all, but the sentiment behind the song. “I love you.” You admit quietly. “I’ve always cared about you, always liked you, but when I found out you were my mate?” You shrug slightly. “I couldn’t help but fall in love with you.”
“Even with the chaos I embody?” He asks softly, swaying you to the song. “I was a mess. An asshole. Fucked whatever I fancied and took any drug I wanted. I don’t want that anymore. Well, maybe weed and the occasional pill but it’s not what I want to live like. I want you. When I sought out the agency, I wanted to settle down, to find my mate, and I found her. I’m all in.” He promises, “all in baby.”
All in. You know that he means that. His eyes are full of excitement and you reach up to brush your fingers through his hair. “I’m all in too. I still want to work, to be your assistant if you’ll let me.” You know he’s hired someone else, but you liked organizing his life.
Dieter nods, knowing he’s selfish but he doesn’t want to find another assistant when you know everything down to his bowel movement schedule. “I don’t want you to leave me alone at work.” He confesses, sliding his hands along your back. “I love you.” He murmurs, pecking your lips when the song ends and the crowd applauds. “You hungry, ‘mega?” He asks, holding your hand.
It feels good to know that he is an alpha that will take care of your needs when you have taken care of him for so long. “I think we should eat.” You admit softly. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been with someone and I’m sure that I will go into heat during our honeymoon.”
Dieter holds your chair out at the head table so you can sit down together. He takes his seat moments later and reaches for your hand. “I’ll look after you. No matter what. Tonight-” His hand finds your neck, “I want to make you as mine. My ring on your finger. My mark on your neck. My cum inside of you. My omega.” He growls softly, his dark eyes flashing with possession.
His fingers press against your scent gland and you whine submissively. “Yes alpha.” You agree, slightly breathless at the thought. “I’m- I’m not on anything.” You confess quietly. “No suppressants, no birth control. I stopped them when you fired me.”
Dieter inhales deeply, loving your scent, untainted, and he nods, “that’s okay. I- I’m ready for a child if it happens. Are you?” He asks, “if not, I have condoms.” He says, not wanting you to get pregnant if you’re not ready.
“I want to feel your knot inside me. Just you.” You admit. “No barriers between us.” You don’t mind the idea of Dieter knocking you up the first time you have sex with your mate. It would actually be a really sweet little story for your personal lives.
Dieter offers you that soft, love struck smile that has appeared with the knowledge that you are his omega. “Good.” He murmurs, caressing your cheek just as the food arrives. “Now, eat omega. You’re gonna need it.” He winks at you and digs into his own food.
You hum as people come up to congratulate DIeter while you eat, most of them not even knowing who you are. Your phone is in your car and you know your family will have heard the news. You will have to have a reception with them or something to make up for the spur of the moment wedding.
Dieter knows he needs to speak to your parents after today to explain himself and he hopes your father doesn’t hate him. After you finish eating, you are invited to cut the cake. “I know you didn’t choose any of this, baby. We can have another bonding ceremony.” He promises, “another wedding where you can pick everything.”
“I don’t care about these things.” You admit with a small shrug of your shoulders. “We can do something small, that is more our speed.” You know Dieter would have chosen none of this himself either. Leaning in, you press your lips to his. “All that matters is that we are together. And happy.”
Dieter hums, pecking his lips against yours, “I love you.” He murmurs, knowing it’s true. He didn’t realize it before today but you’ve always been special to him. “You want to bail? They can enjoy the party.” He smirks, kissing your jaw.
You know that you should probably stay, the cameras are still floating through the crowds, the reporters are interviewing any and everyone to get their reactions to the change of plans when it comes to Dieter and it's honestly very on point for him. You grin, pulling away and nodding. "Let's go."
Dieter takes your hand, guiding you towards the back of the room and you giggle as he drags you out of the emergency fire exit door. He chuckles as you both rush outside. You still are barefooted, and he escorts you to the car that was going to take him and Penny back to his house. Dieter opens the passenger door to help you inside before he gets in, the driver off somewhere but the keys are in the ignition. “Let’s go.” He winks, turning the engine and putting the car in drive.
You should be surprised by Dieter basically stealing his own car, but you’re not. Giggling as he speeds off, you know it’s been caught on camera, another crazy story for today. Right now, you just want to be with Dieter. “Is Polly going to be at the house?” You ask suddenly, not wanting a tearful apology or confrontation with the other woman. You don’t care to ever see her again.
Dieter shakes his head, “no. She won’t be at the house.” He promises, “and if she is, I’ll call the police.” He reaches for your hand, caressing his mother’s ring that he placed on your finger.
“Okay.” You nod. “If you had, I was going to suggest my apartment.” You tell him. “I know it’s not as fancy as your house in Sherman Oaks.”
Dieter snorts, "fancy? Like a goddamn status symbol. That's all it is. My apartment when I first moved here had mold. It was bad. We can buy another home if you want? Have you pick it out?" He suggests, "I know a lot of shit has happened in that house."
“Why don’t we figure that out after our honeymoon?” You are thrilled that he is so open to making you comfortable but his past doesn’t bother you. “I don’t mind you having a history, Dee. I know all of it, hell, I witnessed most of it.” You snort. “It’s in the past. That’s the important thing.”
Dieter nods, bringing your hand up to kiss the back of it and he loves your scent, breathing you in. It's unfiltered and he realizes that Polly didn't smell this good, it was impossible. He drives back to his house, pulling up on the drive in no time and he cuts the engine after putting the car in park. "Your abode, Mrs. Bravo." He declares after he opens your door.
“Mrs. Bravo.” You hum as he helps you out of the car. “I think I like the sound of that.” You admit, looking down at your bare feet again and laughing. “I can’t believe that I married one of the most famous men with no shoes on.”
Dieter chuckles, "I like it. Didn't I tell you about my foot fetish?" He jokes, taking your hand to guide you into the house. You've been in here a million times but it feels different right now. The reality of finding the person he is meant to be with settles on his chest and he inhales deeply. The door is locked behind him and he steps closer, tenderly cupping your cheeks. "My beautiful omega." He murmurs, leaning in to press his lips to yours.
“Alpha.” You murmur softly against his mouth, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and bringing him closer. Now you get to experience what so many others have giggled and gossiped about. But it’s more than that. It’s mating with your Alpha. “I want-“ you push away slightly so you can think. “I want to suck your cock.” You admit breathlessly. “I’ve always wanted to see what it’s like.”
He groans, having imagined it himself if he’s being honest. High and jerking off while thinking about your mouth wrapped around his cock. “Fuck baby. I want to taste you. Want to claim you as mine for the whole fucking world to see.” He admits, kissing along your jaw. “I’m yours. You want my cock? It’s yours.” He promises against your skin.
You tilt your head. Moaning softly when he nips your skin. “I want to be in your bed.” You tell him. “Our bed, where I’ll make a nest.” You have been feeling the need to make a nest, but without your alpha, there wasn’t a point. You’ve never liked being in one by yourself.
He groans, sliding his hands down to squeeze your ass through your pretty dress. “Our bed.” He murmurs, sliding his hands lower to grab your thighs. He lifts you up into his arms and groans when you wrap your legs around his waist and his hard cock presses against your core. “Want you in our bed.” He groans, carrying you through the house to his bedroom.
You love the show of strength. Despite whining about working out for roles and how it doesn’t fit into his life, Dieter is surprisingly strong. Which, it shouldn’t surprise you, honestly. He’s carried plenty of women around during scenes. You kiss along his smooth jaw, surprised he shaved. “Do you like your facial hair like this?” You ask as you kiss, inhaling his own intoxicating scent.
“Fuck no.” He admits, “Polly wanted me to shave it. I hate it. Makes my wrinkles show more.” He confesses as he lays you down on the bed, hovering over you and he shrugs off the suit jacket.
“I like your wrinkles.” You admit shamelessly. “You’ve gotten hotter as you’ve gotten older. Aging like a fine wine.” You tease, biting your lip. “My own Harrison Ford. You can’t deny he has been handsome right through until old age.”
Dieter snorts, “I’ll take your word for it, baby.” He reaches for the hem of your dress. “Do you want to get naked and get your nest ready?” He asks, wanting you to be comfortable this first time.
“Of course.” You don’t have any issue getting naked with him, he’s your alpha. Any insecurities you might have had with anyone else seemingly melts away in the face of this being your biological mate. You pull the dress off of you and reach for your strapless bra, ready to reveal yourself to him.
Dieter sits back, watching you strip off, and his cock is throbbing in his tight pants. He reaches for to unbutton them to release some pressure but his dark eyes are hungry as they take you in. “Fuck, omega, you’re so gorgeous.” He murmurs, “so fucking gorgeous.”
You’ve heard those words before, but they are more potent coming from the alpha who is yours. Making you whine in pleasure as you lift your hips to peel your panties down your thighs. “You’re gorgeous, alpha.” You tell him. “I want to see you. All of you.” It’s not like you’ve never seen Dieter naked. You couldn’t possibly be this man’s assistant for so many years without catching sight of him one or fifty times. This time is different, this time he’s stripping off for you. “Please.”
He nods, shifting off of the bed to take off the restrictive bow tie and he tosses it to the floor before he starts to unbutton his shirt. His eyes take in the sight of your body as he shrugs off his shirt, kicking off his shoes, and he shoves his pants down, hooking his fingers in his boxers to push them down too. “Fuck. Nothing compares to this.” He declares even though nothing has happened yet. It just feels right. He covers your body with his and presses his lips to yours.
You shudder in pleasure, your hands immediately starting to map his body as they roam over his hot skin. The arousal and need pouring off him and mixed with his scent. “Fuck.” You whine, closing your eyes as he kisses down your throat and presses his tongue to your scent gland. “Never felt like this.” You gasp out.
He groans, scraping his teeth over your pulse, “never.” Dieter murmurs, kissing down your clavicle until he is sliding his tongue along the swell of your breast. He cups your breast, lifting it so he can take your nipple into his mouth. His other hand squeezing your other breast.
“Dee!” You arch your back into his touch, thighs shifting apart to let him settle between them. Rubbing your foot up and down his leg as you grind against the hard cock pressing into your skin. “Yes baby, fuck, you- you’re a tit man, aren’t you?”
“I’m an everything man when it comes to my omega.” He murmurs against your skin, switching to your other breast. His hand slides down to squeeze your thigh, lifting it so he can press his cock against your folds. You’re not ready for him yet but the wetness that coats his skin makes him groan into your flesh.
You’ve seen Dieter beg for sex, to be completely debauched and utterly whiny for attention. This man right now is completely in charge. Overwhelming your senses on a mission to touch and learn every part of you. He’s steady and sure in a way that makes you even wetter as he suckles at your breasts and squeezes your flesh. Making you squirm for more underneath him. “Deeee.”
He sucks and bites until your nipples are puffy and stiff and he continues his exploration of your body, kissing down your stomach. His heart hammers in his chest when he gets to your belly, knowing that one day, you’ll be carrying his child. He pushes your legs further apart and gets his first look at your pussy. “Fuck.” He hisses, leaning in to press his nose to your folds, breathing in your heady scent. “How the fuck have I lived without this?” He grumbles and slides his tongue through your folds, groaning at your tangy taste.
You whine his name loudly, your entire body trembling at the first touch of his tongue. You know that Dieter is talented, you’ve heard the rumors. He’s a dick and sometimes selfish, but he makes up for it with his skills. Closing your eyes, you let him do whatever he wants to your body.
He squeezes your thighs, lifting one onto his shoulder so he can push his tongue into your pussy, groaning when you reach down to tangle your fingers in his hair. He loves the way you tug on it and he presses his nose to your clit, wanting to hear you moan his name again.
“Grow it out again.” You beg, tugging on his hair again when he gives you such beautiful sounds. You love his hair a little longer and it’s going to be your favorite thing to tangle your fingers in when you are knotted together with him. “Oh fuck, Dee.” You moan. “I can’t believe you are eating my pussy. I’ve thought about this so much.” You confess breathlessly. “I want to suck your cock too. Feel you at the back of my throat.”
His cock presses against the mattress, leaking pre-cum from the thought of you sucking his cock. He pulls back for a second, his chin shiny with your slick, and his fingers slide inside of your tight pussy. “I’ll grow it out again.” He promises, “and you can have whatever you want, omega. Whatever you fucking want.” He promises then leans down to wrap his lips around your clit.
Your wail of pleasure is loud, unrestrained. Free to be however you want with Dieter, you know he loves the praise and you give it to him so willingly. His thick fingers feel so good, stretching out your walls and you know his knot will feel even better when he’s finally inside you. “Oh fuck, oh fuck Dieter, baby, my alpha.”
He loves hearing you call him Alpha. A designation that not many believed he had. Apparently he gives off “omega” energy because he’s whiny but that’s not accurate. He might be demanding but his mother always raised him to be spoiled, giving him whatever he wanted. He never had to command anyone to give him anything. He groans and curls his fingers, loving the praise, and he sucks harder on your clit, wanting more.
On and on, the moans and praises pour out of your mouth as he works you up. Feeling high off the endorphins, you wonder if this is what Dieter is chasing with his pills. Your body pulls taunt, a clear warning that you are about to cum. Making him growl into your folds and press his fingers against that spot inside you that makes you instantly break. “Dieter!” You cry out, thighs shaking around his head as you unravel.
He works you through it, reveling in the first orgasm he’s given his omega. He pumps his fingers until you’re pushing on his head so he presses kisses to your thighs, waiting until you relax around his digits. “So fucking beautiful, omega.” He murmurs, withdrawing his fingers and he wraps them around his cock as he shifts to his knees between your legs, needing to release some pressure.
His chin is slick with your juices and you love the way his short curls stick up in all directions. The smell of need and desire is thick between you and he has never smelled more delicious. “Knot me.” You beg, spreading your thighs wider. “Alpha…I need your knot inside me. I want you to mark me. Mate me so the rest of the world knows I’m yours.”
Dieter nods, his heart pounding in his chest and his aching at the thought of finally getting to have you like this. He shifts to hover over you, bracing himself on one arm as he guides his cock to your dripping entrance, positioning himself there, he starts to slowly push inside of you. His eyes fixed on yours, he inhales sharply at how you feel squeezing his cock.
Eyes blowing wide, you feel everything. Every ridge of his cock scraps against your sensitive walls, your entire body leaping in delight that your Alpha has slipped inside you. Making you moan loudly as he pushes in inch by inch. “Alpha….Dieter….oh fuck, it’s so good. I’ve never felt like this before.” You’ve had sex, alphas and betas alike but it’s never been this good before.
Dieter can’t even speak. His heart feels like it’s about to pound out of his chest and he can’t believe he has you like this. His omega, his mate, beneath him and taking his cock. It’s more than he could’ve ever asked for. He chokes and leans down to press his lips to yours, his cock twitching inside of you.
When he kisses you, it’s like you’ve become ravenous. Kissing him back passionately and feeling like you can’t get enough of him. Wrapping your legs around his waist and grinding up to make him push even deeper inside you. His cock hits your cervix and it’s the most pleasurable sharp stab you’ve ever experienced. Almost painful, but so incredible at the same time, making you gasp into his mouth around his tongue.
He pants into your mouth, the kiss is sloppy but unbelievably sexy to him. He slides his tongue against yours, his hand squeezing your thigh as you cling to him. His other hand finds yours, the ring that proclaims you as his on your finger and soon, you’ll bear his mark on your neck. He rocks into you as slow as he can manage but it’s hard when he’s so overwhelmed.
“Fuck.” You pant, every thrust filling you so completely that tears prick your eyes and you are blown away by the emotions that rocket through you. “I love you.” You whimper, tilting your head and exposing your scent gland to his teeth. Submitting to him completely.
He feels the alpha part of himself take over, a growl escaping his lips as he leans closer to scrap his teeth along your scent gland. This is something he never felt the need to do with Polly, figured it was something he’d feel when they were married but right now, he doesn’t care about the ring on your finger, he only cares about primally making you his. “I love you.” He declares and sinks his teeth in, claiming you as his omega forever.
You cry out, fingers digging into his shoulders as the pain rushes through you, along with the heat of being claimed. You had heard it is a moment that completely possess you, but you hadn’t believed it. Now that it’s happening, all you can think about is Dieter, your alpha, and his claim on you. His teeth buried in your gland, you start to cum around his cock.
He groans against your flesh, “you’re fucking incredible.” He says as he laps at your new bite and he loves the way you grip his cock inside of you. He can feel his knot swelling now and it’s harder to thrust into you but he presses his lips to yours.
Your nails dig into his back, whining when you feel the pressure of his knot start to fill you. “Oh god, fuck, please.” You beg. “Knot me. Fuck I want it, I want it so badly, baby. Please alpha, I want to take it.” Your hips rock up, eager to take the thick knot inside you, locking you together while he floods your womb with his seed. “Fuck, Dee!”
His grunts fill the bedroom, sweat beading on his brow and he roars when he cums, his knot locking in place inside of you while he paints your walls with hot seed. “Fuckkk.” He roars, eyes squeezed shut as the most intense orgasm he’s ever experienced hits him hard.
He shudders and shakes above you, looking amazing as he fills you with a flood of warm cum. Making you moan again, biting your lip at the sensation and you clench down around the thick knot that is firmly embedded inside you. The final proof that you are an omega, his omega. You knew it all along, that he hadn’t knotted her, but there’s a sweet relief in proving to him that it was because Polly wasn’t an omega and not because there was something wrong with him. “Dee, fuck, that’s-“ you pant softly, smiling at the sensation.
He’s relieved he knotted you. He was worried that he’d taken too many drugs and he couldn’t knot anyone. He pants, leaning in to kiss along your jaw, “I love you, baby. Mine. My omega.” He coos, wanting to comfort you in this moment.
“Fuck.” You whimper and smile as he kisses your skin. “My alpha. You’re so good. Did you like it?” You ask, stroking his back lovingly while he settles into your embrace.
He sighs, shifting onto his back, mindful of your connection, so you can lay on his chest. His hand slides along your spine, a smile on his face. “I loved it. I loved you. Never ever felt like that before.” He confesses, “I’m so fucking happy to came to me before I married that psycho. My brave omega.” He murmurs, kissing your forehead.
“I couldn’t let you do it without knowing the truth.” You murmur softly. “If you didn’t believe me, rejected me, I could live with that. As long as you knew what you were doing. She was taking that chance away.” Your fingers trace a tattoo and you sigh softly. “But I’m happy you believed me.”
He hums, “me too. I know I haven’t been the best boss in the past but I promise you that I will be the best Alpha. I wanted to settle down and I wanted to find my mate. I found her and I want to be the best husband I can be.” He reveals, “I love you. So much.” He murmurs, “I just didn’t realize how much until today.”
“You’re a good man.” You remind him softly, just like you have many times before when he’s been wallowing in self pity. “You will be an amazing alpha, I know it.”
****
“So you have been married to your beautiful wife for ten years. The whole world watched as you exposed Polly who we hear is now married to another beta. Yet, you still got your happy ending with your omega.” The interviewer says and Dieter nods, offering the interviewer a smile, “she’s incredible. My rock. I couldn’t have won my Oscars without her.” Dieter confesses with affection. 
“Knock knock.” You knock on the door to the family room where Dieter is being interviewed. “I’m sorry to interrupt. The kids wanted to see their daddy.” You confess and your three children rush over to Dieter. Aged three, six, and nine. 
“Daddy! Guess what?” His eldest son clambers over Dieter and he gestures for you to come and sit down. 
“What, my love?” He asks his son while his six year old daughter wraps her arms around his neck. Your three year old son struggles to get onto the sofa so you pick him up while your eldest tells Dieter about his dinosaur project at school. 
“The perfect family.” The interviewer coos and Dieter nods, leaning over to kiss your lips. 
“We aren’t perfect but it’s my family and to me, they are perfect.” Dieter declares on camera. The interview is aired a week later during prime time and Polly watches while she sits beside her husband who tricked her into believing he was a rich man but it’s his mom who had money. She scoffs, turning the TV off while her husband snores, head tilted back against the sofa. She got her karma and you got your alpha, much to Dieter’s delight. He wanted to find his omega and he did, he just didn’t realize she had been in front of him the entire time.
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lostintransist · 2 months ago
Text
Broken Beyond Bearing | Part 4
… -.-. —- .-. .—. .. —- / … - .. .-.. .-.. / .- -.-. - .. …- .
Part 1 found here | AO3
CW: restraints, shots (medicine), disassociation, unresolved sexual needs
Waking comes slowly. The scent of rut and pancakes oozes from under the door. For the sourness of your own scent, you had always been able to use your nose better than most people you met. Within two minutes of all the men coming down the stairs you knew the tallest one who glared at you, Simon they called him, would be starting his rut.
Realizing you could smell it coming you tried to warn betas if they were going into rut or heat. You stopped doing that when Sarah mentioned some of the betas requesting suppressants instead of dealing with their oncoming cycle.
“Something interesting happened today, I want to run it by you.”
Bitch smiled down at you where you lay strapped to the table, bit firmly wedged between your teeth. You had taken the tip of her finger the last time she had you on the table and didn’t seem keen to repeat the experience. Sarah had not let you brush your teeth for four days, ‘to teach you a lesson about biting the hand that feeds’ or some other bullshit. All you had learned is to love the taste of blood in your mouth.
“Seems some of our guests have decided that they are going into rut and would rather not deal with that,” Sarah uncapped a needle, drawing air into it before plunging it into a vial marked only with a serial number.
Squirming did nothing to put distance between you and the evils held in the tiny clear vial. Replacing the air for liquid Sarah set the vial down gently before swiveling to you. You hated those small stools with no backs and the stupid mint green painted along the walls. When you finally died from Sarah’s ‘care’ this is what hell would look like.
“They were bunking in your room, and they aren’t the first beta to request this after spending time with you,” she grabbed your arm, pinching up the muscle between her finger and thumb. “Seems like we need a bit more information about your brain.”
A sound from beyond the locked door to your room pulls you from the memory. Covered in sweat and panting you scramble off your bed and peer underneath it to confirm you were alone. Once your room confirmed its emptiness you stripped your night clothes off. You hated buttons on your sleeping outfits but you didn’t trust these men yet and refused to tell them anything if you could help it. Using the pant leg to wipe off as much of the fear sweat from your body as you could you then dress in a matching set of loose beige sweats. They reminded you of what Scorpio provided.
Opening your door you scan what you can of the room before sliding through the smallest space you could. The door is shut tight behind you. Stepping silently from years of practice sneaking around the various buildings you were housed in you find John asleep on the couch. He is passed out with only a pair of boxers on, bite marks littering his skin. The faintest smell of slick clings to him, you would have missed it at this distance if your nose weren’t so strong. Biting your tongue you force back the cries of your beta to join them in the nest upstairs. You were not invited.
A small fire burns in the stove, lifting the temperature of the room. A stack of pancakes sits on the counter covered with plastic cling. Glancing up the stairs you can hear small noises and grunts that would send you into a spiral if you listened for too long.
Making a decision you drift into the kitchen. Eating the pancakes dry is a choice. The number of times you have to pause chewing to release the bolus from the roof of your mouth? Annoying, but these were free pancakes. When your stomach begins to groan, a ship sinking too heavy under a load, you pause. A pancake and a half are left. Covering them back up with the cling warp you look around the kitchen. A bowl, several measuring cups, a pan, and a used plate and fork are all tossed in the sink.
This you could handle. One of your main duties for a long time had been cleaning dishes after meals. Finding the soap and a clean towel you set to work. Humming a song you had learned before going to Scorpio the sink is cleared and cleaned in no time.
John is still asleep on the couch when you finish. The fire is starting to burn down. The wood stacked near the stove tells you that the flames can be fed. Studying the black surface doesn’t give you any clue how you are supposed to add it without burning yourself. Waiting had become the option. Glancing around the couch you found a blanket laid neatly over the back of the couch tucked under John’s body. The idea of getting close enough to be touched sent shivers rolling down your back. Freezing it was then.
A flutter of movement at the back door drew you to the pocket of cold air lifting off the glass. Two crows, you think they are crows as you could never remember how to tell crows and ravens apart, are playing on the back porch. Calling it play seemed best. They both would pick up a small stick before waving it about, dropping it, and hopping about.
You must shift, or move in some way because they fly away in a flurry of caws. Their departure hits you in the chest. Birds had been something you missed the most. Outside time at Scorpio had been strictly regulated and no trees were ever allowed to grow tall or full enough to be welcoming for a family of birds or squirrels. Wishing had been your one way out; you always wished you had been born with wings. Pressing your fingertips to the glass you ignore the chill of the heat being stolen.
Stolen. That word rings through your brain, a dirge of a funeral march. Something changes, like the clang of the mausoleum gates slamming shut and a jubilee begins. You can go outside. No one is here to stop you. John is dead to the world and the others are busy. Nearly dancing on light toes you retrieve your outside wear from where you had stored it in your dresser yesterday.
Boots on you are reaching for your coat when you remember the shawl from Johnny, tucked between the mattress and the bed frame. He had tried to make you laugh yesterday. Telling you stories of his sister’s antics when they were kids or lining up jokes he would knock down like bowling pins the most he got from you had been a smile you couldn’t stop. The man looked like you had gifted him his wildest dreams when he caught sight of it. Another one hadn’t slipped out after that.
He was too damn nice to you. Nice only led to pain. Gods, you wanted this to be different than Scorpio. No one there who had any power had given you a gift though. That’s what he called it, a gift.
“Noticed you admiring it in the store lass. Figured if you ended up with us your life before must have been shite and a splash of color would bring a light to your eyes.” He had explained after dropping it over your shoulders and standing in the bite of the wind to look at the stars.
Staring at him for a few breaths as he grinned at you had been a surreal experience. Any care you had received in the last decade had been stolen in passing or shared under the watchful eye of staff. The open, blatant, outright loud acknowledgment hung from your shoulders in the dark. He had turned to the stars after you clutched the gift in your hand, worried he might take the soft shawl back.
The two of you finally worked your way back inside when you couldn’t feel the fingers anymore. Johnny had parted with a soft goodnight and disappeared up the stairs in the dim light that illuminated from the stove. The click of the door shutting upstairs had broken the spell over you. The lock thrown and the gift was tucked under the bed to keep it safe from a cursory glance.
Making a decision you pull it cautiously from below the mattress curling it around your body before hiding it below your coat. Sneaking out of your room once more you find yourself in the kitchen. Taking the plate you leave the cling wrap in a ball on the counter. No alarm rings when you slide open the back door, the crunch of the snow beneath your boots the only sound that breaks the perfect silence.
Tucked in the corner under a tarp you see what looks like a stack of chairs. Glancing from the could-be chairs to the corner railing where you had seen the crows playing. Making a decision, you tear off two small-ish chunks of pancake and clear the snow from a portion of the wide railing top. Setting your offerings down you set about freeing a chair for yourself.
Waiting had been a skill you cultivated at Scorpio. You could leave your body behind and fly with wings longer than the cabin you stayed in. Sat as far from the railing as you could be time slips by as you wait for the possibility of them returning. A sound draws you from your internal world. Focusing your eyes on the sound without moving your body you find them. Swallowing down your offering the crows eye you.
Moving with exaggerated slowness you tear off two more morsels and toss them to the crows. The aim is off and they land in the snow on the floor of the porch. Beyond returning your hand to your lap you practice stillness. They take the offering. This continues, you tossing pancakes across the distance and them accepting. One of them offers a loud caw which causes you to jump. Both birds take flight at your sudden movement.
Cursing under your breath at your carelessness you stand. Taking the plate in hand you turn and scream, the plate flying out of your hands and into the deep drifts of snow next to the porch. John is watching you through the back door, blanket cocooned around his body. Two fingers wiggle from between the folds, motioning you in.
He steps back after opening the sliding door for you. He waits until you have stomped the snow off your boots on the rug set up for that purpose to ask you anything.
“Did that help?”
Pausing, a hand on the wall as you step on the back of one boot you send him a look.
He points with his chin toward the little crow prints in the snow.
“The birds. Did they help?”
Help? Help what? You feel less like you were dying? Help this place feel less like a prison and more like a hospice?
You study his face, attempting to parse out what question he asked below the one he spoke. In time you would see the him that harmed. It happened with every member of staff at Scorpio. Never trust their smiles, always trust their eyes had been the mantra, creed passed to each new beta. John’s eyes held only neutral curiosity. Nodding once, you focused on removing your boots.
“I’ll get you bird food for them the next time we are in town,” John nodded once and wandered away to the bathroom most likely from where he headed.
Setting your coat on a hook next to the door you trailed him with your eyes. You wondered once again what Kate had been thinking when she dropped you off here.
Before you could decide on her motives Johnny appeared at the top of the stairs. With a pair of sweats and a pullover hoodie, he had much more clothes on than the last man to leave that room. His hand gripped the railing tight as he gingerly worked his body down each step. Simon must be a rough lover through his ruts. Shuddering with memories veiled under the cast of drugs you didn’t notice Johnny getting closer until the smell of sex washed through your nose.
“You’re wearing it,” he sighed as if you had lifted a burden from him by doing so.
Folding your arms across it you glare at him.
“It was a gift,” you reply tersely.
A hand is lifted, finger crooked as if to brush down your arm. Johnny pulls back before touching you. Mixed feelings rise. You would have bit him if he tried to touch you but a part of you screamed to the point of vomiting when he didn’t connect.
A gentle smile breaks over his face, dawn over the desert, as his gaze finds yours.
“It is a gift. I’m glad you like it.”
Your stomach flipped over in its limited space in your body. Squeezing yourself tight you fight down the beta urge to lick him, to suck the scent of sex from his gland and into yourself.
Movement from behind him has you glancing at John who had returned settled a hand on Johnny’s shoulder and a kiss to his temple.
“Leave her be, we need to get food ready for lunch. Can you show her how to load the stove? The latch is being tricky again.”
Johnny leaned into the touch, clearly comforted by the contact. His eyes drifted lazily along the wall as he listened.
It didn’t make any sense to you. John and Johnny were both omegas, their scents confirmed it again and again, but they never acted like any of the omegas you had dealt with. Acting as equals often, even to their alpha counterparts, it confused you why they all allowed John to lead them. They broke every rule that had been beaten into you.
Nodding, Johnny turned and dropped a kiss on John’s lips before heading to the stove. John shuffled into the kitchen, opening the fridge and cupboards and pulling out various items.
“Hey Sprinkles, come on over. The stove needs fed.”
Looking around the room you try and figure out who Johnny might be talking to. When you lift a brow at him he grins, wide and mischievous.
“Yes, you. The shawl makes you look like a bowl of rainbow sprinkles. Now come on, let’s get this done and then you can tell me what you enjoy doing so we can find you something to fill your day with.”
Joining Johnny at the stove you learn how to open, feed, clean, and start a fire to warm the house up. The explanations he gave were clear and concise. You fed a few pieces in, confidence growing with each word of praise from his lips.
When the door is closed and the living spaces much warmer you follow Johnny into the kitchen. A pot with a lid not sitting fully on simmered away and a bowl with a towel sat in the corner. On the main part of the counter, a large platter of meats, cheeses, nuts, fruits, and vegetables drew in the eye.
John shoveled food into his mouth before disappearing with a nod. Kyle appeared next, smelling of sex too. He ate with the same ravenous hunger Johnny and John showed. You picked at your food, slipping pieces of cheese and cured meats into your pockets to hide for later.
After both men had gorged themselves on a meal they showed you where the TV and their collections of shows and movies lived. The newest one you recognized had been from nine years ago. Ads had been playing for it before you ended up with Scorpio. Excusing yourself to the bathroom you detour to place your extras in your pillow. After the men go to sleep tonight you would find a safer way of storing the food.
Curling into the corner of the couch to watch a show that looked interesting the men gave you a cushion as space as they twined around one another. Sometime later John replaced Johnny on the couch and you drifted in a half-awake state ignoring the throbbing need between your legs that spiked with each heady draft that reached your nose when the men took their shifts with Simon.
This routine went on for two days. They were such long days.
Broken Masterlist | Masterlist
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