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pellucid-constellations · 2 months ago

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If It All Fell (11)

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: If it all fell apart—if you forgot who you were—would you love him again? Would the bond guide you back? Azriel doesn't know if that uncertainty is one he can bear.

Word count: 5k

Warnings: Angst, pining

a/n: Omg guysss it's been months but here it is!!! I'm so happy and excited to share this chapter ❤️ Things are slowly coming to a close with this story, but don't you fret because there are still some big plans 👀 The POV bops around a little in the chapter because I just want to capture a lot. Well, enjoy!! Thank you for waiting for me :)

Series Masterlist (all parts ♡)

Nesta Archeron was glaring at you from the other side of the room. The icy stare was a stark contrast to the warm, jubilant nature of those around you, and you found yourself continuously edging into Azriel’s side to avoid the harshness. If the Shadowsinger noticed your growing distress—which you were sure he did—he didn’t make it known. He only allowed you to get closer, subtly shifting his arm to accommodate your movement.

Feyre was speaking on the other side of you, retelling a light-hearted story about the creation of her art studio. You had been part of the construction and she was more than happy to share that information with you.

Meeting her had been immeasurably easier than meeting Nesta.

“I’m so happy you’ve been feeling well enough to do this,” Feyre smiled, her hand on your arm starling you out of your game of avoidance. “I’ve missed seeing you. I know we all have. Elain was furious that she couldn't make it. She got caught up on the outskirts of the continent with Lucien.”

You took a calming breath in through your nose and shifted your gaze away from the chair Nesta was occupying. “Lucien?”

Azirel’s low tone rumbled at your shoulder. “Elain’s mate. He has an interesting story. I’ll tell you more about it later.”

And you trusted that he would.

Since the night the two of you shared, Azriel had become an open book. He had spent half of that night making you privy to the story you shared—how you met, how the bond snapped, and his subsequent idiocy of keeping it from you while you knew the entire time. That point had sent you into a fit of laughter because obviously you would have known. Your magic revolved around parsing out lies and secrets.

Coming to terms with that truth also helped you better understand the bond itself.

Azriel had explained that the cauldron found mates in equals, pairing the souls of those that matched. It had been confusing for you to make a connection between Azriel and yourself. He was an Illyrian with forceful wings and so much power that it needed to be contained in the azure siphons lining his body.

But then, on a particularly quiet night, Azriel had shared his role in Rhysand’s court. His words had been cloaked in reproach as if sharing that piece of him would send you running. You had listened with rapt attention and pieced together the truth of your bond.

Azriel was the spymaster, and you were the truthteller.

It also helped—presumably—that Azriel had gotten into the habit of telling you how much he loved you. Regularly.

He never expected anything following his declarations and never even gave you enough time to think of a response, but he said the words so openly. Handing you breakfast, taking a walk along the Sidra, in between stories from your life; Azriel always said I love you as if he didn’t mean to, like he was making up for lost time.

You hadn’t said it back yet.

Maybe you’d thought it.

“There’s also a book club that I know has been eagerly waiting for your return—”

“So you’ve really lost your memory?” Nesta’s biting tone cut her sister off. You snapped your gaze over to the piercing eyes you’d been avoiding.

“Um—”

“Rather convenient, how cuddled up you are with the spymaster when the rest of us haven’t even seen you. What progression does that show?”

“Nes,” Cassian chided from beside her.

Something heavy made your chest hurt—embarrassment, you parsed out. You leaned away from the warm chest you found comfort in and glanced at Cassian’s exasperated expression as he stared at his mate.

“What? You all have been hiding her away with your typical ploy of protecting her. Why hasn’t she been training with the Valkyries? Who gets to decide when she’s let out for a walk? I presume Rhysand is one of her handlers? I’d ask him but he refuses to speak to me about it and doesn’t show his face unless absolutely necessary.”

“That’s enough,” Azriel cut through. You’d put about an inch of space between the two of you and the missing contact was glaringly apparent.

“Is it? You’re making her weak.”

“Nesta, we weren’t here the first time this happened. We have no idea what she needs,” Feyre argued, squaring her shoulders towards her sister.

Nesta only scoffed. “Well, clearly, she needs something else because she still has no memory.”

“I don’t know what’s going on with you right now, but cool it,” Cassian commanded.

Sharp features ran over your form, analyzing your every move as the conflict continued. You felt exposed, belittled under Nesta’s gaze, and the fae only sharpened the lines of her eyes the more you squirmed. Azriel closed the space between you again, covering your knee with his hand, and Nesta’s jaw worked at the movement.

You wanted to say something, maybe defend yourself, but you were afraid to open your mouth and be ridiculed. Everyone had said you were friends with Nesta. They had described her prickly personality but said you had been fast friends. They said she had been asking about you.

You breathed through your nose and pressed your lips together.

“She’s gotten memories back, Nesta. We were told it’s a slow process,” Feyre reasoned, attempting to lower the tone of the room as Azriel’s shadows became restless.

“Right. And they all happen to be memories of the precious Inner Circle. Another agenda I’m sure was purposeful.”

That was true. You’d gotten back a handful of memories now, all with either Azriel, Cassian, Rhys, or Mor involved, but those were the only people you knew. And they were all distant memories made centuries ago. You had no new context and had started to assume that this process would be chronological. Sort of.

“We are introducing things slowly,” Azriel all but gritted out, his presence large and looming at your back. “Even the process of getting those few memories hasn’t been pleasant. Based on what we understood we thought it would be better if—”

“It’s always what you think. She isn’t yours, Azriel,” Nesta fought, gripping the arms of her chair in a punishing hold.

“Careful, Nesta—”

“You’re scared.” Your voice was sure but quiet as it silenced the room. You stared at Nesta, brows furrowed, and watched the tells of her fear emanate from her. “Why are you scared?”

Nesta looked jarred, affronted. She glowered at you. “I am not scared.”

“I can see it. I don’t understand it, but I can see it.” You met her eyes and something looked different about them—something searching. “Is it about me?”

The room tensed, air becoming still.

Nesta stood abruptly. You straightened your back and were halfway up to follow her, a confusing urge leading you to comfort the woman who obviously did not like you, when pain took your breath away. You faltered, feet failing as you shot them out to balance your wavering posture. You fell forward instead, the ground a harsh pain against your knees.

Azriel

Azriel was so quick to find your side, any vitriol lingering in the room no longer his concern. He pulled you against him and slotted your head in his neck as a whine left your lips.

“What’s wrong with her?” Nesta asked, harshness tinged with underlying urgency.

He had known she was scared—everyone knew that—but you voicing it had made it real, and Nesta was not one to put that out in the open. In another life, just a few months difference, you would have confronted her privately. But you didn’t know.

“She’s remembering,” Azriel muttered, holding you closer as your body became dead weight against his. This part always sent terror shooting through him, but he was getting better at containing it. You needed him to be calm.

“Does she always collapse? You didn’t think to—”

“Nesta,” Feyre interrupted, placing a gentle hand on her sister’s arm. The High Lady shook her head with a wince.

Azriel watched the interaction with lidded eyes, his hands pressed to your head and back. He knew you would come to within a few minutes. Sometimes it took longer and you were far more dazed then, but he’d be willing to sit here for as long as you needed.

“I’ll get the compress,” Cassian declared, kicking up from his chair with a parting hand on Nesta’s shoulder. “Take it easy. It can be difficult when she wakes up.”

Nesta crossed her arms and shifted her weight between her feet as Azriel repositioned you on the ground. He looked down at your face, the way your eyes moved behind the lids, and then tucked you back into his chest. He reminded himself that this was something good; last time you remembered the first kiss you had had with him.

A turn of silence overcame the sitting room and Feyre excused herself to check up on Nyx. Nesta stayed, using Cassian’s return as her weak excuse.

“How long—”

“She’s okay, Nesta,” Azriel said, voice low. “I know it doesn’t seem like it, but she’s okay. You need to give her time.”

Nesta’s brow furrowed and she bit the side of her cheek. “You all have made her weak. She doesn’t need to be coddled.”

“She does. For now. That doesn’t make her weak—to need people.”

Azriel moved your hair off your forehead as a harsh breath left your nose. You didn’t wake yet.

“She would hate it—being treated like glass.”

“I know,” Azriel admitted. “She hates it now. But, as Feyre said, you weren’t there before. This is nothing compared to how we were then.”

“I haven’t seen her in months.” Nesta’s voice was smaller as she dropped to the ground beside Azriel. “She looked so… timid when she came in. She was never like that.”

Azriel let out a sigh and held Nesta’s gaze. “I know how this feels, but you can’t… you can’t blame her for this. You can’t punish her, Nesta. She needs you, too.”

“She hasn’t needed me this entire time, obviously. That was decided rather quickly.”

Azriel sighed again, but before he could help his sister sort out the myriad of emotions he knew she was feeling, you groaned and the sound rattled against his skin. The Shadowsinger pulled you away from his body but kept his arms holding you up. Your lashes slowly fluttered before you pressed your palm into your eye socket.

“Gods, ow,” you complained. “I hate that part.”

Azriel offered you a melancholy laugh and brushed his lips along your forehead—always stolen touches with him. “I’m sorry, my love.” He paused, sending a sidelong glance toward Nesta. The younger fae was frozen in place. “Can I get you anything?”

“The cold compress, maybe?”

“Cass is already on it. He’ll be back soon.” Another pause as you gathered your bearings. Azriel rubbed soothing circles into any skin he could reach. “Share now or later?”

The question was routine now. Some memories were easy for you to share, spouting them off as soon as you woke up like in the case of the first kiss you had learned about three days ago. Others hurt as if you were reliving them in the moment, like when Rhys was taken under the mountain or when you remembered the pain of Day Court.

So Azriel would wait, and then he would ask.

And if he needed to hold you as you cried afterward, he would do that, too.

Your tongue darted out to wet your drying lips and then your expression pinched. You sat up fully to examine the room, still disoriented if Azriel could tell anything by the rapid way your eyes moved, but you were looking for something—or someone, maybe.

When you looked over your shoulder and found Nesta’s frozen form, recognition shone in your hazy eyes.

“I remembered you,” you revealed. You twisted from Azriel’s grip to sit on the floor before her. “We were talking. Or, I was talking and you were… angry at me for something. We were in a terribly awful apartment. I think it was yours.” Your brows came together as you searched through the memory. You looked back up. “You were afraid then too.”

Azriel didn’t have a moment to protest before Nesta had her arms thrown around your shoulders, her grip on your sweater visibly unshakeable. You had to stabilize a hand behind you to keep upright, and even though Azriel knew your head throbbed after getting a memory back, you didn’t make a sound.

“You’re going to be fine,” Nesta angrily demanded, sounding as if she were placing a curse. “You are stronger than this.”

A minute ticked by, and then another. Azriel sat idly by as Nesta held you against her and you held her back without as much context, but just as tightly.

“Well,” Cassian re-entered the sitting room, cold compress held loosely in his hand. “This seems to be going better.”

~~~

A few days after meeting, and somewhat understanding, Nesta Archeron, you found yourself on a walk with Azriel following the resurfacing of a particularly painful memory. It was something from the war—Azriel was hurt, barely alive, and you were helpless and miles away from him. The memory was mostly just remnants of pain and fear, and it had taken Azriel fifteen minutes to calm you down after.

But that was fine—it was good. Because for every painful memory came several good ones, and those memories made it worth it. You almost felt lucky to experience many of them for the first time again.

“Can I ask you something?” you posed, swinging your conjoined hands as they intertwined between you. You loved holding Azriel’s hand—especially after the first time you’d initiated the contact and he blushed so furiously it warmed his skin.

“Of course you can,” came Azriel’s soft reply.

The low sounds of Velaris winding down laid the background of the conversation. The occasional merchant sweeping outside their shop would wave to the two of you, and although you still didn’t recognize them all, it didn’t hurt as much to grin and greet them. A few of them reintroduced themselves with warm smiles after hearing of your condition, but others just appeared happy to see you in any context.

“When I remembered us after we were married,” you began. “Where were we? I’ve been in most of the rooms in the House and I can’t find it.”

“Ah,” Azriel hummed. His mouth curved up in a beautiful half-smile. “I was wondering when you’d ask about that.”

“You’ve been keeping something from me!” you accused with a playful gasp.

“No, no, not keeping it from you, angel. I wanted you to find it on your own.”

“What do you mean find it on my own? I’ve only recently been able to find my study in the House and I lose my way if I start in certain corners.”

Azriel chuckled, his eyes squinting at the corners.

This felt so good—so normal.

This felt like something that could last.

“How many times have I taken you on this walk?” he asked, gently guiding you forward on cobblestone.

“Are you changing the subject?” Azriel shot you a knowing look that had you rolling your eyes. “Fine,” you relented. “Almost every other day.”

“Why do you think that is?”

“It’s a nice path. The street isn’t too busy but there’s a lot to look at,” you shrugged. “I thought you just liked it.”

Azriel brought you to a stop away from the street. “Look a little deeper.” He gestured around with his chin.

There was nothing out of the ordinary, not at first. He had stopped you in a quieter corner of the street, one you always admired each time you passed it. Soft foliage lined each house you passed, purples and blues and muted yellows obviously cared for among old brick and stone. Gentle water could be heard in the distance, most likely from fountains or small wells meant to provide for families. In the setting sun, the houses were peaceful, serene.

Something called to you. It was inexplicable, but you found yourself without the urge to inspect why you were being called. Your power was usually unexplainable—at least that’s what it felt like—but this was different.

You turned to look on at the quaint cottage Azriel had stopped you in front of.

“Does this place mean something?” you asked, knocking your head to the side as you took in the ivy that trailed up tanned stones.

Azriel could be felt at your back, the Illyrian bringing his hands up to rest on your shoulders. “Yes. What does your intuition tell you?”

“I don’t think my magic works like that.”

“Just give it a shot,” Azriel chuckled by your ear.

It was when his lips pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek, stealing your breath away, that you hoped for more. That your intuition prompted you to ask for more.

“Is this… Do we live here?”

You could feel Azriel’s smile near your skin. You turned to face him, his hands dropping from your shoulders as your expression shifted into pleasant disbelief. Azriel’s smile was twisted into permanent light on his face, and he brushed your hair behind your ears as you stared up at him.

“We do. Picked it out right after we were married. We didn’t think raising a family in the House of Wind was very feasible long-term.” Azriel jolted, stuttering for a moment. “Not that we need to raise a family! Now, or ever, actually. That was just something we talked about before, but things are different now and just having you—”

“Azriel,” you smiled, interrupting his rambling by sliding your arms around his shoulder. “Can I ask you something else?”

Azriel blushed, closing his eyes with a sigh as he nodded in defeat.

“Will you kiss me?”

His eyes snapped open, the hazel searching yours with a quickened intensity. “Are you sure?” he asked. His hands were on your waist and you couldn't remember him putting them there. “You don’t have to—”

“I remember our first kiss,” you countered. Your eyes flickered down to the ring hanging around his neck. That question would be for another time. “Seems only fair that I’d get to experience one in real-time, don’t you think?”

“You don’t want to go in the house? Go see it?” he whispered, but he was leaning down as he spoke the words, his eyes glued to your lips.

“I think I’ll have time later.”

When his lips met yours, Azriel exhaled deeply, the hands on your waist pulling you closer with desperation lining his skin. He deepened the kiss in a way that seemed unintentional, intrinsic, and you saw stars behind your lids as he covered your mouth with his and kissed you harder. You had to take a step back to steady yourself and he only followed, his wings coming around your back to press you tighter.

Something rumbled in the back of Azriel’s throat as your fingers twined through his hair. You only had the faint memory of a kiss, but that one was much different than this. That kiss had been sweet and tentative. This kiss was desperate and needy and you could feel the way Azriel missed you in each of his touches.

And, Gods, did you miss him, too. Differently—a way you couldn’t even understand—but you missed him.

When you pulled back, you were met with Azriel’s furrowed brow, his eyes flickering between both of yours. He kept you close as you let out a breathy laugh.

“Do you always kiss me like that?”

“I should,” he breathed, and then he kissed you and kissed you until your back met the front door of your home.

~~~

“Things wouldn’t be so bad, you know,” Mor announced, breaking the silence in the room. “If you didn’t get everything back.”

You glanced up from the diary you’d been poring over, bookmarking the page as you stared up at your friend. “What do you mean?”

“I just mean if you had gaps, maybe things you never remembered, that would be okay,” Mor continued, rising to sit beside you on the loveseat.

She had come to visit you in the cottage—your cottage—bringing you one of your diaries they had hidden in the House of Wind. You had eagerly ripped it from her hands and dove into the contents, barely greeting her as you ushered her in and flipped the door shut.

“Well, the goal is everything,” you explained. You held up the diary and gave it a small shake. “That’s why Az and I asked for these. And there are still people out looking for the witch.”

Mor kissed her teeth and sighed. “But it would be okay,” she repeated. “If you never got it all back. It would be okay if you were just like this, all the time.”

“What, is there something you’re hoping I won’t remember? Something embarrassing?” you teased, but Mor didn’t laugh.

“I’ve been thinking about something you said a little while ago. It’s been bothering me. I talked to Azriel about it too, and I just… I need you to know that we all love you—that I love you—just as you are now. You aren’t a ghost.”

The smile fell from your lips. You placed the diary down in your lap and turned to face Mor, taking her hands in yours. “Mor, I know that. I didn’t mean—”

“No, you were right. We were talking as if you weren’t there and that wasn’t fair. None of this is fair, but especially not that. You have to know, y/n, that the way you are, right now, that’s still you. I’m sorry. We’ve all been idiots.”

You huffed out a small chuckle. “I mean I wasn’t going to say it.”

Some of the light returned to Mor’s eyes, masking the grief that lingered there. “See, there you are.”

You gripped her hands tighter, yanking her in for a hug. “I forgive you, Mor.”

She clutched at your shirt and laughed. “Thank the Mother. Because Azriel wouldn’t shut up about keeping you all to himself. I was sick of the gloating.”

“Azriel? Gloating?” you feigned a gasp, pulling back with a teasing smile.

“You bring it out of him.”

Memories came in different waves as time went on. Sometimes they were quick, difficult rememberings. Other times you were out for much longer and would wake up disoriented and confused. But you were never afraid of them.

At first, the slow nature of their return did make you afraid. You had feared that this process would take too long and everyone would grow tired of waiting. Maybe Azriel would start rolling his eyes when you lost consciousness or Cassian would start to grumble every time you couldn’t connect the dots in one of his stories. The fear was real and it ate away at you for about one week before it was completely diminished.

Because this conversation you were having with Mor—you’d had it with Azriel too.

He had pressed his lips along your forehead and told you that it was fine if you couldn't remember everything, he’d just make you fall in love with him again.

And maybe you were too afraid to tell him that he’d already succeeded at that feat.

A comfortable silence fell over the room as you and Mor continued your independent tasks, you reading your diary, Mor flipping through a stack of correspondence she had brought along with her. The sounds of scribbling and creased parchment were reminiscent of the first few days after you lost your memory—Mor would bring work into your room and sit beside you as you nursed a headache. Hearing it in this context, in your home, felt like it had a meaning to it.

Azriel

It was later in the afternoon when the front door silently opened, Azriel removing his shoes by the door and setting off to find his mate in the cottage. He could hear someone else and mistakenly thought it to be Nesta before he spotted a head of bright-blonde hair beside you in the sitting room. Mor had been the only one in the family who hadn’t visited the cottage yet and relief filled his chest and the sight of her.

You had started to worry that she didn’t want to see you. Azriel had reassured you several times that Mor just thought you didn’t want to see her after the way everyone acted, but his sweet words had done little to quell your fears.

Your relationship with Mor had been different since you woke up; she had been the one person you could trust for a while. When he was afraid and messing everything up, Mor held your hand and talked you through his idiocy.

He was glad some semblance of a reunion in his sitting room.

“Hi, girls,” Azriel greeted, keeping his voice low to match the calm of the room. He leaned down beside your place on the loveseat, pressing a kiss to your hair. “Should I get a fire going? It’s cold in here.”

You turned your head to grin up at him, and Azriel had to calm his heart as it skipped several beats. He was trying to be casual about all of this—about you in the seat you had claimed as yours several years ago, sitting beside your best friend and smiling up at him, looking as if you belonged here because you did—but you were making it very difficult with your pretty smile and the pretty way you blinked at him.

“Hi, Az. Mor’s here,” you offered.

“I see that, my love.”

You smiled again, this time directing it towards Mor. “She brought one of my journals. It’s from before I met you all. I don’t have any memories of that time yet. Very informative.”

“Thought we could go chronologically,” Mor quipped. She leaned up from the couch and stretched her arms. “I’ll let you guys get to it, then. With… whatever mates do.”

“Will you be back?”

Azriel’s heart hurt a little at the question, and he could tell by the softness in Mor’s gaze that she felt the same.

“Of course. Just not when you and Nesta are having your book club. Made that mistake a few too many times,” she teased, sending parting words out the entryway.

As soon as Mor had vacated the seat beside you, Azriel was occupying the space, rounding his arm over your shoulders and smashing you into his chest as he pressed kisses to your skin. You laughed and attempted to push him away, the journal now lost in a cushion, but Azriel was unrelenting.

“I missed you,” he proclaimed.

“I saw you this morning,” you giggled back, finally giving up and allowing the onslaught of affection.

“Doesn’t matter. I spent weeks not touching you. You just started letting me kiss you.”

“We’ve been kissing for a few weeks now.” Azriel only hummed at your words and moved his hands to cup your face as he kissed your cheeks. “Gods, we sound like children.”

“I love you.”

Main POV

You opened your mouth to reply, but Azriel had already silenced you with his lips. You were breathless when he pulled away, all thoughts emptying from your brain.

“How was your day?” he asked, removing himself from the tight grip he’d captured you in. But he still kept you glued to his side.

You took a breath in and blinked. “Um, it was good. Mor came.”

“You mentioned,” Azriel teased. “Any memories you want to talk about over dinner?”

“None today. It’s been slow over the past few days, I’ve noticed.”

Azriel brushed hair from your forehead. “That’s okay. They’ll come with time.” He paused. “Or they won’t.”

The reminder of Azriel’s promise to you sat behind his words. It echoed Mor’s conversation earlier and you fought the reassurance and dread that battled within you.

Because he was right. They might come, or they might not.

Your family would love you either way.

But, would you have to live with this feeling of… incompleteness forever as well?

Would that fade with time?

You offered a soft smile and leaned up to kiss the corner of Azriel’s mouth. “The things in the journal Mor gave me,” you began. “Usually, when one of you tells me about something from the past I feel a connection to it. Or I get a memory back. But I’ve been poring over this book—” you fished it out from the cushions. “—and, nothing. It’s like I’m reading a story and not my own words.”

Azriel furrowed his brow. “That must be difficult to comprehend.”

“It is,” you nodded. “And, that’s fine—I guess. Because none of you can really reinforce memories when you weren’t there. I just feel strange about it.”

“Can I do anything to help?”

You bit your lip as Azriel stared back at you with concern laced in his features. He was already doing everything he could to help, already pushing aside so much so you could find comfort in this confusing life you’d been dropped into.

You watched the way he held himself back, the way he always kept himself close to Velaris and refused necessary missions to keep you near. You looked on without the means to help him as he stressed over the memories you’d receive. He spent countless hours retelling your story and holding you through difficult bouts of unconsciousness and taking it so, painfully slow with you.

Maybe, if you really thought about it, this hole within you wasn’t that big of a deal.

“Could you get that fire started?”

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel fanfic #acotar #azriel angst #acotar fanfiction

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ghostaholics · 1 year ago

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𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄-𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓

➸ PAIRING: Lieutenant Simon 'Ghost' Riley x gn!reader (aside from a single idiom whose origin uses masculine language/pronouns - every man for himself) ➸ SUMMARY: Against all odds, the Lieutenant accidentally falls asleep on your shoulder. Unfortunately, there are witnesses to the precarious situation (just your luck that it would be Gaz and Soap). ➸ WORD COUNT: 2k

𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐀𝐃𝐕𝐈𝐂𝐄: don't poke the bear.

Danger in your line of work typically consists of trying to walk away from a mission while still being left completely intact (i.e. the goal is to make it out alive, in one piece). You’ve survived a great number of ordeals: cornered into a shootout with a dwindling supply of ammo, tiptoed your way through a field of pressure-sensitive IEDs, dove towards probable death (with an awfully high probability of splattering onto hot, concrete hell like a bug on a windshield) because your helo was sent tail spinning courtesy of a perfectly-aimed RPG – and really, the list goes on.

It's been child’s play, in the grand scheme of things. An extensive catalogue of life-or-death scenarios accounts for your entire military career. And sure, this might be a bit of a stretch, but you'd wager that none of those instances thus far have been as high-stakes as the current predicament you’ve found yourself in.

Jesus-fucking-Christ. Why’d Ghost have to fall asleep on you?

𝐀 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: avoid sitting next to him on the plane ride home. You've had to learn it the hard way.

And the kicker is that this whole thing could’ve been avoided; it didn’t have to be your problem. You could’ve sentenced any one of the other soldiers to your seat. Every man for himself, right? Get off scot-free, have a normal trip back to base with plenty of legroom so that you’re not cramped. Theoretically, it would've been beautiful – a passenger's paradise, the closest you could get to a first-class ticket.

But no.

Instead, play the Good Samaritan; extend your hand out with an act of benevolence. What’s the harm, right? So, you'd spared the poor guy, said you wouldn't mind switching places with him because he'd looked as white as a damn sheet at the idea of being crammed beside this behemoth of a lieutenant who's infamously every FNG's living nightmare.

Yeah, well hindsight is 20/20. Had you known what was going to happen, you would've had no reservations about throwing him under the bus. Sayonara, mate.

Law of the jungle, plain and simple.

To make matters worse, he is, in fact, exhibiting terrible flight etiquette. His head (which is dead weight and feels about as pleasant as a fucking bowling ball, mind you) has taken up every inch of real estate on your shoulder and is practically tucked into the curve of your neck; you’ll need to take a trip to the chiropractor’s after this – several, probably. The edge of his skull mask is digging into you. And, the cherry on top: get this – he’s man-spreading, so his left leg's trespassing into your own territory and brushing against your thigh. Utter lack of regard for personal space.

Incredible.

You’d still rather die than wake him up, though. You're not sure what'll happen if you do, but that's a risk you're not willing to take.

All things considered, an achy shoulder is a much better alternative than incurring the wrath of one angry Lieutenant. He's more subdued in this kind of context. To be completely honest, if you weren't already well-acquainted with him, you'd find it endearing.

From here, it's easy to see the simple rise and fall of his chest, steady and even. Slow inhale in, slow exhale out. He's at peace, a rhythmic lull that matches your own breathing. You can't quite put your finger on the exact moment he fell asleep. (He's got a habit of shutting his eyes and folding his arms over his chest when he isn't in the mood to converse with the other soldiers onboard. But God willing, he would never voluntarily loll his head onto your shoulder.) For what it's worth, he deserves the rest – never been one to do it this soundly as countless missions have taught you that he's usually a light sleeper. You remember him roughly prodding the toe of his boot at Soap's arm once when the Scot was conked out and his snores were a bit loud for Ghost's taste.

Rather odd then, that the Lieutenant even managed to allow himself to doze off like this. It’s too loud, too unsteady – the droning of the plane engine doesn't exactly make for good white noise and the turbulence outside is jostling the cabin around. Moreover, this puts him in a position of vulnerability, and he’s not the type to let his guard down so easily.

But somehow he did it with you beside him.

You try not to think about the implications of that.

𝐈𝐓 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐄, 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄.

Because, Soap's just woken up from his nap, the first among the entire company of soldiers in the cabin still sleeping, excluding yourself. His seat's parallel to yours, straight across the walkway within direct line of sight, so he’s got an unobstructed view of you and Ghost. Soap sends a questioning glance in your direction, eyebrow quirked. A look that says, The hell's going on?

The level of your voice is down; it's at a conservative decibel to avoid rousing the others. Yet you convey your distress with the same amount of passion as if you were stuck in the middle of a losing firefight. "MacTavish, help."

Soap works with bombs for a living. Surely, he's capable of defusing situations too.

Alright the man’s a demolitions expert, but that’s semantics.

He blinks like he's trying to make sense of the situation. Though, it's pretty obvious what the problem is here. You're not sure why he’s got to take a moment and contemplate it. You need a solution, now. And he's moving at a snail's pace.

For a second, you think he might sympathize with your plight.

But then his mouth morphs into a shit-eating grin and when he nudges Gaz awake, you know right then and there that you're absolutely fucked.

More witnesses.

Great.

Because that’s just what you need, isn’t it?

Gaz drags a hand down his face. He pans over to his right to figure out why he’s been jolted awake so suddenly, and sees Soap who’s inexplicably, nauseatingly jovial before his eyes land on you.

Much like Soap’s original reaction, Gaz can’t help but offer a quizzical expression. The confusion is evident. His brows are drawn together because he knows that the L.t. wouldn't fall asleep on your shoulder.

Soap's shifting, sliding his hand into his pocket before pulling out his phone. He messes with it – a few taps here, a few swipes there. And then before you're registering what's happening, he's aiming it straight at you, like one of those mums getting a snapshot of their kids in matching jumpers during the holidays.

"Say cheese."

An indignant gasp leaves your mouth. "If you so much as—

"Soap, no. Don't do that." Gaz says from beside him, plucking the phone out of his hands. He tsks him with a click of his tongue. Stern disapproval in spades. The meaning is clear: it’s a big thumbs down from the Brit. He’s not endorsing this type of behavior. “Gone mad now, have you?” he asks in admonishment.

You release a sigh of relief. Finally, some moral support. He's reliable. Your faith in him is unshakable. Always could count on Gaz to get you out of—

"Have to shoot with a wide angle, see? Or else it'll look wonky," he corrects, flipping the phone horizontally before handing it back to Soap.

"Aye, thanks mate.”

Gaz's smile isn't as excessive as Soap's but the smirk gracing his face tells you he's relishing in your misery all the same.

Fucking traitor.

"Knobheads—"

They’d risk their own hides to save you from certain death. You've seen it in Cairo, Valencia, and Seoul. Good men. Good hearts in the right place as well. However, they're also the type to embarrass you at every opportunity – public humiliation being somewhere on that roster as well. And for that, you want to strangle them.

"Rude,” Soap comments pointedly.

"Bite me, MacTavish."

"Just wake him up if it's bothering you," Gaz supplies unhelpfully.

"If you were in my shoes, would you do it?"

"'Course, not," he snorts. "I don’t have a death wish.”

“Well, I also prefer my head on my shoulders, thank you very much," you whisper furiously, nearly hissing at him.

And Soap is admiring his handiwork, when he coos, “Aw, the two o' you make quite the pair." He briefly twists the screen so that you can catch a glimpse of it, and even from this distance, you can confirm that he's captured the shot. Annoyingly well, to add insult to injury. Angle? Spot-on. Lighting? Brilliant. It's interesting, has character. Black and white photography. He's managed to make a stunning composition and your upper lip is curling up into a sneer of disgust at his artistic eye. How infuriating.

"I'll send this to the Cap. He’ll get a kick outta it."

"Sod off."

"He'll appreciate bein' included."

Gaz matches the energy with an equally gleeful smile, now delighted by the idea. “Hey, and the L.t. he looks—”

“—cute," Soap has the audacity to finish for him.

What.

There are many words that you’d use to describe Ghost.

Cutthroat, maybe. Imposing. Glacial. Taciturn. A stringent set of ideals that makes him the perfect soldier: disciplined, honed, fierce. Intimidating, if he's not fighting on your side – someone you'd much rather have on your team than against, unless you fancied death. He can be a stone-cold terror on occasion. The man’s been penned as a walking horror story by those in the military. Given his iron-hearted demeanor, you'd be hard-pressed to disagree with that statement; there's not much room to call his steel-encased resolve into question.

So, yeah. Above all else, he's certainly not cute.

Your eyes narrow at them. "Congratulations, the both of you have officially made the top of my shitlist."

Soap, indifferent to your crisis, asks, "Want a copy for your wallpaper?"

There's another heated remark waiting on the tip of your tongue, because there's no way in hell that you would and you're ready to tell him off, about to give him an earful.

But somebody else beats you to it.

“Wipe that picture, or I’ll wring your bloody necks.”

Ice surges through your veins. Goosebumps break out across your skin. Because that voice belongs to one person. Oh, Christ. Never in a million years would you want to be on the receiving end of it.

There's anxiety warping in your chest. You're scared stiff, paralyzed with fear in a way that implores you to remain stock-still. The coarse fabric of your trousers bunches underneath your palms as you try not to freak out. This isn't your fault. None of it is.

And here's the worst part: Ghost hasn't lifted his head from your shoulder yet.

But Soap's unfazed. He blinks a couple of times, seems like he's weighing his options – as if there's something else he could choose besides following his lieutenant's command – yeah, right. He wises up, settling for a simple answer in the end. "Alright, Ghost." His smile makes a reappearance, sweet and well-meaning. Troublemaker. "Any chance you'd like a copy before I do away with it?"

"What kind of fuckin' question is that, Johnny?" he grumbles. "Obviously."

𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐔𝐒 𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄:

"I take it you don't think I'm cute then. Have I got that right?"

"I'm sorry... mind repeating that again, sir?"

"You didn't have anything to say about Soap's comment."

"I have a feeling that whatever I answer will get my arse handed to me, L.t."

He's smiling in response – like sunshine trapped behind clouds. Despite it being obscured by the mask, you can see his eyes crinkling at the corners, which makes the black charcoal that's lining them begin to crease a bit. "Permission to speak freely, Sergeant. You have the floor."

Your mouth parts in surprise. Well, then. Maybe you stand corrected. And so, you appraise him momentarily, giving it some serious thought. There's more to Ghost than you give him credit for. He's terse and rough around the edges, but respected for a reason. Admirable. Someone you think highly of and has deserved your approval. The mask undeniably provides an air of intrigue. “I suppose you can be,” you start off, gradually warming up to him being more approachable. “When you’re not terrorizing the new recruits, that is.”

#i got lazy again #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost x you #cod fic #cod mw x reader #cod mw 2 #cod modern warfare #call of duty fic #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley fluff

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carame1bunny · 8 months ago

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𝕱𝖗𝖚𝖎𝖙 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖔𝖓

Part three of this, but can be read individually:)

Pairing: Alastor x Doe!fem reader

Summary: It’s basically a bunch of snippets of Reader being pregnant (if you would like to read more about it, more scenarios and details, feel free to request!)

Warning: talks of pregnancy(like, a lot), smut, breeding, possessiveness, lactation kink, mentions of birth, etc…

Alastor wasn’t too surprised when a few months after their first mating, her body started changing.

I mean, they were really worked up, all the time. After their first time they stayed in her room and nest for two weeks, barely coming out. Alastor was the one who sent his shadow down to bring them food, a lot of food. He tried to feed her as much as possible.

“You need to eat as much as you can, doe.” He had her favorite pasta, like… a lot of it and he insisted on feeding her himself. So there he was, holding a spoon that was packed with pasta, however she shook her head and pulled away.

“Alastor, I am afraid to gain too much.” Her ears flattened on her head in shame. “What if you won’t find me beautiful? And you won’t want me as your mate anymore…?” Her eyes were rimmed with tears. He gathered her face in his palms, that were as big as her head, he gave her a long kiss on her forehead.

“My darling doe, how could I not find you the most beautiful creature in this world? You’re mine, my mate and my everything. And you are doing the most beautiful things one could do, you’re giving me a little fawn. You’re about to go through pain and discomfort just so we can hold our own in our arms. How could you worry about some extra weight on you?” He knew what calmed her down always, he put her on his lap and leaned her head into his neck, so she could feel his scent more strongly. “You need to nourish your body so you could nourish our baby, your body needs nutrients to produce milk and keep the baby warm.” He rocked her from side to side. That did it. After that, she ate the bigger portions that he gave her.

But, after a bit, it was evident that her weight gain wasn’t due to her eating habits. It was due to the little fawn that was growing inside of her.

Alastor was worried about her, she was not quite herself. She never threw up, but felt nauseous from nearly everything. She also slept whenever and wherever she could. She went to sleep early, woke up late, and still somehow found time to take naps. Husk was actually the one who told Alastor that there could be something up with Y/N. One early afternoon, Husk was cleaning glasses when he saw her out of the corner of his eye, she sat down on the couch with her notebook in hand. He turned away for a second to put the glass back into it’s place, and when he turned back, Y/N was already deeply asleep on the couch.

Alastor was terrified on the inside at first, they finally find each other, only so he could lose her? What if she was sick? He couldn’t bear to see his mate fading away before his very eyes.

All of his worries went away when Y/N got an even bigger appetite for sex than before, they already fucked like rabbits. But now? It didn’t matter where they were or what time it was or what were they doing. No. If his darling wanted to fuck, he would fuck. Luckily, Alastor disliked not having her around the hotel, it was still dangerous for her out there. So, he fucked her on every solid surface in the hotel, with zero shame.

One thing about mates is that after they did their mating, the doe would start picking up certain characteristics from the buck. They noticed the first time when Vaggie pointed it out. Alastor and Charlie were working out plans for the hotel, and of course their partners had to be there for moral support, Vaggie and Y/N were sitting on the cushion in her’s and Charlie’s room, the one that is in front of the huge window. Y/N was staring out the window, completely lost in thought, the other woman snapped her out of her thoughts by gently wrapping her index finger in one of Y/N’s locks.

“This is new, I didn’t know you wanted to dye it, but it suits you.” She smiled, but Y/N looked at her with evident confusion.

“What do you mean?” She tilted her head.

“Your hair?”

“What about it?”

Vaggie only chuckled and led her to Charlie’s vanity, where she held up one strand of Y/N hair, which was… red and with a slight blackish tint at the bottom, along with quite a few locks of her hair.

To the movement, both Alastor and Charlie went to the vanity too.

“Oh. My. GOD!” Charlie shrieked in joy.

“Why, what a pleasant surprise!” He said before noticing that the tip of her ears were also developing a crimson color. He leaned down and started running his finger up and down her ear, causing her to lean into the gentle touch and flatten her ears against her hair.

Weeks went by and the changes became noticeable, Angel Dust immediately planned a brand new wardrobe for her to match the colors of her hair and ears. Even when Alastor had to go into town for business, he always made sure that his Y/N wasn’t alone, it was mostly Angel and Husk who kept her company. It was the situation now, Alastor had to leave for an Overlord meeting, and Y/N was in Angel’s room. He thought it would be a fun activity to have the doe try on his slutty clothes, but she liked it, she felt sexy.

She felt the physical aspects of her change of appearance lately, but she couldn’t make sure.

“Angie, I cannot zip this up! I would hate to ruin it.” She was laughing at herself, she was twirling like a fool, trying to reach for the skirt’s zipper herself, and failing miserably.

Angel pushed himself up from the bed, with a big smile on his face. “Here, let me, that one always gets stuck and I have four arms for a reason!” He tried to make it happen, but something was just in the way. He made her turn around to kneel in front of her, trying to see what was stopping the tiny zipper.

And that is when he saw it…

“HOLY SHIT!” His concentrated eyes changed immediately to surprised ones.

She looked down at him in panic, feeling a sudden pang of guilt, and tears. “What? I ripped it?! I am so so so sor—“

He just stood up laughing and put her in front of the mirror, so she could see herself from the side. She was still feeling sorry about the non existent rip that she didn’t even notice what he was trying to do.

His soft hand came up to her chin, so she could look into his eyes and then he guided her gaze to the mirror. “Y/N, look! There is a reason that the skirt didn’t want to zip up.” His fingers grabbed the bottom of the skirt to pull it lower, revealing her stomach.

Before she even had time to register what was happening, his lower set of arms came up to cup the lower part of her belly, which was slightly swollen.

She was shocked to say the least, but in a happy way. She was still staring at it from the mirror when Angel’s upper arms came to envelop her into a hug.

“Oh, Y/N… You are going to be the best mama, I know it.” After they broke apart from the hug, he lifted one eyebrow. “Sooo… Creepy face fucks good…?”

“…Fuck yeah.” They both started laughing, until Y/N was hit by her pregnancy hormones. One moment she was laughing, she was sobbing the next. Thankfully , Angel stayed with her until Alastor arrived back home. He held her and cried tears of joy with her. He tucked her in with his softest blanket, poor thing needed a nap after shedding so many tears. Fat Nuggets was curled up at her belly, and Angel slept close to her, too. Feeling protective over his best friend who was cooking up something beautiful inside of her.

That explained a lot. Her emotions, her sudden waves of horniness, her constant nausea and tiredness. No wonder all these things were happening to her.

She was expecting a little fawn, her and Alastor’s little fawn. A tiny fruit of their mating.

When Alastor arrived back, he knocked on Angel’s door and the sleepy spider opened it up. He let him in and they both looked at Y/N, who was asleep and cuddling with Fat Nuggets.

“I might just get jealous.” Alastor spoke in a hushed tone, then made her way to her side. He reached under her and gathered her in his arms in bridal style.

After saying farewell to Angel, he took his mate back to their room. He put her in their soft bed and laid beside her, snuggling her into his arms. She woke up when she felt his skin warming hers, this was the perfect opportunity.

“Alastor…?” She whispered, he was looking down at her, admiring his love.

“Hello there, my dear. Had fun with Angel?” He caressed her hair. But she leaned up on her elbows and towered over his side. Her silk nightgown was bigger on her form, so her tiny belly bump wasn’t visible.

“I have something for you…” she smiled, a genuine smile. He chuckled and pushed her strands of hair out of her face, those particular strands were just like his own. It made his primal and possessive self go mad, it was obvious to everyone that she belonged to the radio demon.

He kept looking at her with a love-dazed expression, waiting for her to continue. She pushed the straps of her lacy gown down her shoulders and she started to pull it over her head. “Well, this is certainly a beautiful sight.” His eyes were glued to her boobs.

“I have something better…” She straddled him and kissed him deeply. After a few seconds they were still lost in each other's lips. “I” kiss. “Cannot” kiss. “Wait” kiss. “To fee—“ She pushed her swollen belly into his lower ribs, not harshly, but enough to make him notice. “What is..?” He pulled away and checked her lower stomach, and that was when he saw it.

“My doe…I—“ He palmed her skin, it felt firm, but oh so very soft. His eyes softened and went glassy. His hands could feel the little life inside of her, where their little fawn was nestled into her womb.

He suddenly wrapped her up in his arms and attacked her bump with big smooches. “We did it! You’re carrying our baby, we will have our own baby!”

I think we all know that after Alastor was aware of his doe being pregnant, he practically became her shadow. He followed her everywhere. Helped her with everything, actually… He didn’t help her, he did everything for her.

His protectiveness got on a whole new level. There wasn’t a second of the day when his eyes weren’t on her, or his hands anywhere else but on her skin.

Angel kept his mouth shut, and waited for the two deers to tell everyone the big news, which was a few days after her bump’s appearance. What? They had their own celebrating rounds, multiple of them actually, like… multiple rounds every few hours. They needed each other in their bed and in their arms.

Charlie couldn’t stop crying at the news, she was so happy, she instantly started ordering a shit ton of books about babies. Vaggie was better at hiding her emotions, but she could not stop the smile that etched itself onto her lips, she instantly occupied herself by sharpening her spear. No fawn will ever be harmed on her watch!

As time went by and the bump was clearly evident, Y/N noticed how much others lingered in her presence. Vaggie was looking out for any danger. Charlie always talked to the baby and touched Y/N’s stomach. Angel couldn’t help but buy everything baby-related that he found cute. “What? It is my duty as Uncle Dust to make sure the fawn is a fashion icon from day one.” He said one day when he knocked on the deers shared room, with all of his hands full with shopping bags. Sir Pentious and Cherri were always lingering with Vaggie, their main priorities were protection. Pentious also made his egg bois baby-proof every surface.

They went to Cannibal town to pay a visit to one of Alastor’s dearest friends, Rosie. Y/N was wearing a dress that was tight around her boobs, but flowy at her belly. They made their way to her shop and it was so heartwarming to see the cannibal woman’s smile light up at the sight of them. She instantly ushered the crowd away to take a closer look.

“Oh Alastor! I don’t see you for a few weeks and you bring such a beautiful young lady to me?” Rosie caressed the doe’s cheeks with her manicured fingers. “I’m Rosie, and, oh… My, my. What a beauty you are! I see you two have grown quite accustomed to each other.” She noticed their similar features. Rosie suddenly opened her arms to envelop Y/N in a hug. “Come, come, darl—“ Of course, there was the bump. Her mouth dropped open and her fingers shot up to her lips. (Imagine her facial expressions in the Overlord meeting scenes here haha) “Oh, my darling. Congratulations!” Her hands were immediately all over her tummy. She ushered the pair to sit down., especially Y/N. “Sit down, dearie, you must be exhausted. Carrying that belly all the time.”

They talked and talked. Then Alastor revealed the reason for their visit.

“Rosie, me and my darling talked. And we decided that we would be honored if you could help Y/N deliver our fawn.” Rosie had helped many women through births, so Alastor knew that Y/N and the baby would be in the best possible hands. Who would have guessed that a cannibal could be the perfect midwife?

“I would be the one honored. Of course, I’ll help!” She wrapped an arm around Y/N’s waist to cup her tummy, while leaning closer to her. “We will get that baby out in no time!” After Rosie explaining everything she could about bringing a baby into the world.

If Alastor really couldn’t be around, it was Husk who was around Y/N. One time, Alastor had to discuss business with Carmilla and at the same time a very pregnant Y/N demanded a walk. So, Husk went with her, but not before he made her a sugary non-alcoholic drink that could keep up her energy. On the walk, Husk had one of his wings around her, shielding her and the precious belly from any harm. To say that he was surprised would be an understatement, especially when he felt a little kick against his wing at her belly, it made him get more attached to that little hellspawn. Of course he had a pocket full of his weapon like cards. You know, just in case.

Alastor knew that he was truly in love with his sweet mate, who was carrying his baby under her heart wherever she went. His favorite part of everyday was the hours before they went to sleep. They went back to their room every late afternoon, which consisted of her getting fluffed into the best silky pillows he could find, and him laying his head on her belly. Nothing calmed him down more than feeling his doe’s skin on his cheek and hearing the little movements of his baby.

Y/N was excited and nervous as fuck at the same time. Alastor noticed it, of course. When they went to sleep, his ears perked up to the sound of her constant tossing and turning. He gathered her face into his hands. “What’s wrong, little doe? Anything hurt? Is the fawn kicking up a storm again?” He smiled gently at her.

“What if something happens during the birth?”

He kissed her face, there wasn’t an inch of her skin that his lips haven’t touched..

“Everything will be okay, my doe. You are strong, I know that you are. You will push through it, and you will recover.” She pulled away and sat up on her knees.

“You don’t understand, Alastor. I don’t care about myself. The baby is who I’m worried about, it is all I can think about.” She was getting herself worked up, while Alastor started to bite back a smirk. She didn’t notice the change of her form. “But one thing I know… I would f̸͔̘͚͉̀͗̍̾́͜u̷͇̞̦̻̮͆̈́͐͛̓c̷̮̥̙͇͗̋̃͘͠ͅḱ̷̟͍͎͔̖͗͋̐́ǐ̵̡̙̼̼̻̈́̍͝n̵̜͖̠̰͎̊͋͊̋͛g̴̦̥̜̜͍͂͂̀̀̔ ̷̤̖͕̬̹͆̈́̐̏d̷̡̧̺̦͕̾̓̃́̅ì̵̙̼̖̯̈͒͐̽ͅé̴̱͎͇̫̝̂́̈́͊ ̴͉̩̜̼̞̏́̽̍͝f̷̭͓̬̘̠̓̔͗́̀ǫ̵̖̤̬̭̾́̀̒͝r̷͎̤̬̦̞̎́̓͆̚ ̸̹͍̭̖͚̄̄̈́̏̄ȍ̷̱͔͉̠̲̆͛̀̿ȗ̸̡͍̮͍̞̀̋̈͂r̶̛̘͍̟̜̮͒̎̑̈́ ̶̜͕̼̝̓̾͊͛͘ͅf̴̨̤͙̰͇͋̓̿̐̕ȁ̸͔̹̯̲̗̅̉͂̽ẘ̸̥͙͔̠͎̊͗̓̚n̵̡̯͎̝͓̽͊̒̉̀.̸̱͓̺͍̔̑̑̿̏ͅ”

Her voice went static, like his does. Her limbs became longer and her eyes went red. Even with her demonic form, her belly still poked out. He sat up and grabbed her face, suddenly pulling her into a passionate kiss. She instantly went back to her proper form, kissing him with nearly twice as much passion. She straddled his lap, already grinding against his hard on, while his claws ripped her nightgown. “God, you make me fucking crazy.” He said while she grabbed a hold of his pajama button up and ripped it apart, sending buttons to fly everywhere. By the time his mind had acknowledged it, she was already taking out his leaking hard cock out of his underwear.

His sharp teeth kept on nibbling all around her neck. “Not a bad form, my doe, becoming too much like your mate?”

She chuckled. “Yeah, but I don’t think it really bothers you, does it?” Her hands wrapped around his erection, feeling how hard he got from the sight of her, and lining it up with her entrance.

“Oh—How could it bother me? My mate, forming into a demon before my eyes, with a big belly. Don’t worry, you looked so very sexy… I just want to…” He grabbed a hold of her wider hips and pulled her down onto his cock. “Fuck you so hard that I knock you up again.. You look so amazing, I can finally grip you properly.” His nails nearly broke the skin on her hips.

She was riding him as if her life was depending on it, swirling her hips and bouncing up and down. He started pounding up into her, meeting her thrusts, feeling the deepest parts of her. He noticed her nipples beginning to lactate, so he latched his lips onto her, sucking harshly. She was surprised when he did that, but moaned with a deep voice. It was so intimate, it also made him fuck up into her way harder than before.

“You’re so beautiful. So gorgeous.” He felt her orgasming around him, so he filled her up with his seed. She fell against his chest, heaving and tired.

He started caressing her back. “Good girl. You’re so good to me… Taking care of me so nicely, while holding our fawn within your womb.” He leaned his head on the top of hers, enjoying the way her soft ears made his skin tingle.

“You’re going to be the best mother, my love.”

Still no fawn! Don’t worry, there will be more, I just went overboard and I felt like Reader giving birth in this would have made it too long:)

Taglist: @jyoongim @lovingyeet @adamwarlockislife-blog @that-dumb-bitch @midorichoco @alastorswifeee @littlekacchan @sugurubabe @captainfia @alastorssimp @iheartalastor @speedycoffeedelight @1o-o

#alastor #alastor fanfic #alastor fanfiction #alastor fluff #alastor smut #alastor x reader #alastor x y/n #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x you #alastor x oc #hazbin alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel x reader

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ozzgin · 5 months ago

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A collection of doodles, memes and comics featuring monsters!

Monsters

Reverse octopus hybrid

Chubby Monsters

Zzy [Character Design]

Circus Merman [Character Design]

Octopus Hybrid [Character Design]

Lion!Hybrid and Tiger!Hybrid [Character Design]

Loan Shark x Blåhaj

Loan Shark flex [Rent-A-Monster]

Interviewing Monsters [Vegetable Lamb Hybrid]

The creation of Sprout [Vegetable Lamb Hybrid]

Saint Nicholas Visit [Vegetable Lamb Hybrid]

Zzy Pole Dancing Animation

Hucow Husband

Queen of the Black Puddle Male Version

Demon Girl Doodle

Slime Girl Suggestive Doodle

Comics/Memes

Kraken First Mate x Dumbass Human Captain 1

Kraken First Mate x Dumbass Human Captain 2

Kraken First Mate x Dumbass Human Captain 3

Monster under your bed guide

Big monster, goofy Reader

Shy monster, dominant Reader

Free Ice Cream

Monstermania RAW

Monster Fucker Awards

Guess the monster fucker

Monster D-Print

Sea Slug Boyfriend

Zombie!Househusband

Nessie x Reader

Shark Facts [Shark Loan Shark]

Bath Time [Shapeshifter]

Cooked Food [Shapeshifter]

Surprise encounter [Monster under your bed]

Stuffed toy jealousy [Monster Harem]

Horny repellent [Zzy]

Sisterly Love [Zzy]

Teddy Bear horror [Asylum Spider]

Clown Nose [Vampire Clown]

Blowing the horn [Vampire Clown]

Work Pest [Ghost Harem]

Special Seat [Dragon Guardian]

Love Letters [Orc Secretary]

Size Difference [Delinquent Fairy]

Reader Inserts

How to hold your human guide

You're not the father! [Monster harem]

Sleepover [Monster harem]

Breeding Kink [Monster Harem]

Crowned Spouse Reader

Reader chilling in a monstrous mouth

Handholding your monster boyfriend

How to lewd a skeleton boyfriend

Tentacle parts at the workplace + Part 2

House monster encounter [House Monster]

Reader with poor eyesight [House Monster]

Caught in the act [House Monster]

Room Service Reader [Monster Hotel Meme]

Monster Birthday Cake [Monster Author]

Monster Picnic [Forest Entity]

Reader with allergies [Forest Entity]

Gangbang Milestone [Monster Streaming]

Mating Habits [Octopus Hybrid]

Holiday Headpats [Shark Loan Shark]

Kindergarten Sign-up [Devil]

Mean Dog Reader [Monster Marriage]

Daos holding you [Werewolf]

Daos holding you (Romanian Edition) [Werewolf]

Protecting the Asylum Spider

Smooching the Asylum Spider

Meeting the neighbors [Bull Hybrid]

Chameleon viewer [Monster Streaming]

Walking home [Rent-A-Monster]

Monster Tutor [Rent-A-Monster]

Monster Ride [Deer Hybrid]

Reverse AU [Delinquent!Fairy]

Kitchen Tomfoolery [Zzy]

Centaur Bellyriding

Misc

Monster Fudger Genealogy Tree

Monster fucking would work for me because...

Bruised cervix

Adopt-a-Y/N

Monster!Reader

A monster fucker's thirst

Hucow Barista Husband [Cow Hybrid]

Trying on clothes [Monster Streaming]

#if you guessed i'm running out of links again #you're absolutely right #my art #doodle #monster doodles

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yanderenightmare · 1 year ago

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BAKUGOU KATSUKI masterlist

Boss ! Bakugo going yandere for his helpful assistant:

♡ WANTS & NEEDS

Yandere captor ! Bakugou punishes darling for a crime she didn’t commit and then regrets it:

♡ WRONGLY PUNISHED ♡ FOLLOW-UP ASK

Darling uses sex as a coping mechanism:

♡ DARLING INITIATING SEX

Hero ! Bakugou x Villain ! Deku x childhood friend ! darling:

♡ REUNION

Cock descriptions:

♡ COCK

What BNHA ! yandere is the scariest:

♡ SCARY YANDERE

Bully ! Bakugou creeps on his quirkless study partner:

♡ STUDY-SESSIONS

Bully ! Bakugo is scary and pushy and delusional:

♡ BAD GUY

Fuckfriend ! Bakugou turned yandere:

♡ BORING

Alpha ! Bakugou figures out why he bullies Omega reader:

♡ LESSON ♡ HEAT

Bully ! Bakugo series. He harasses the reader into a relationship:

♡ SEVEN MINUTES IN HELL ♡ TRUST ME

Boyfriend ! Bakugou headcanons:

♡ BOYFRIEND ! KATSUKI

Poly ! KiriBaku bullies cute darling:

♡ BAD INFLUENCE

Poly ! BakuDekuTodo x darling thirsts:

♡ BAKUDEKUTODO X DARLING ♡ BAKUDEKUTODO X DARLING ♡ POLY

Prince ! Bakugou x maid ! dalring:

♡ PRINCE x MAID

Imagines of what happens when the darling tries to deny the BNHA ! yanderes intimacy and sex:

♡ BAKUGOU

Bully ! Bakugo x poor ! darling:

♡ IN CASE OF FIRE: PUSH ALARM ♡ IN THE TRAILER ♡ FOLLOW-UP ASK

Barbarian King ! Bakugo arranged marriage with princess ! darling:

♡ BEAUTY AND THE BEAST

Yandere captor ! Bakugou reacting to pregnant darling:

♡ PREGNANT DARLINGS

Overworked and touch-starved Prohero ! Bakugou x girlfriend ! darling:

♡ ONE MORE TIME?

Yandere captor ! Bakugou with a darling who enjoys being his darling:

♡ DARLING ENJOYS BEING A DARLING

Bakugou and darling's sexual role-play dynamic:

♡ ROLE-PLAY DYNAMICS

Yandere captor ! Bakugo x pet ! darling:

♡ PET ! DARLING IN HEAT ♡ AFTERMATH OF PET ! DARLING IN HEAT ♡ BRATTY PET-DARLING

Yandere captor ! Bakugou x darling with early Stockholm syndrome:

♡ EARLY STOCKHOLM SYNDROME

Yandere captor ! Bakugou wants captive darling to be willing:

♡ WILLINGLY OR NOT

Poly Proheroes ! BakuDeku blackmails criminal ! darling:

♡ STREET SCUM

Bully ! Bakugou redemption, being charming with darling and asking her out:

♡ GIRLFRIEND

Sheriff ! Bakugou harasses backpacking tourist:

♡ HIS TOWN, HIS RULES

Yandere captor ! Bakugou's need for intimacy:

♡ INTIMATE ACTIVITIES

Bakugou having a breeding kink for his crush:

♡ BREEDING KINK

Yandere captor ! Bakugou cleaning darling’s cuts after she tries killing herself:

♡ CUTS & BANDAGES

Childhood friend Bakugou and you have been stuck in a toxic relationship forever:

♡ NO ONE ELSE

Pro Hero ! Bakugou regrets not making you his before it was too late:

♡ MISERABLE

Bakugou's type:

♡ SUBMISSIVE DARLING

Alpha ! Bakugou mating his terrified Omega ! darling:

♡ Five Steps for Alphas Mating Omegas

Prohero ! Bakugou going yandere for childhood friend ! spy ! darling:

♡ EMPTY SHELLS

Poly wolf-boys ! BakuDeku with a bunny ! darling in heat:

♡ HEATED

Daddy ! Bakugou punishes his darling for not following her strict schedule:

♡ RULE BREAK

Yandere captor ! Bakugou x clumsy ! darling:

♡ CLUMSY DARLING

How yandere captor ! Bakugou punishes his darling:

♡ PUNISHMENTS

Sadistic yandere Bakugou chases you down after you escape:

♡ BEAR-TRAP

Poly ! KiriBaku are a toxic duo for poor captive ! darling:

♡ BAD COP/GOOD COP

Alpha ! Bakugou finally finding his rebel ! Omega ! mate:

♡ MUD

Prohero ! Bakugou lusting over his equally successful childhood friend:

♡ PROFESSIONAL

Yandere captor Bakugou with a depressive darling:

♡ MELANCHOLIA

Incel ! Bakugou kidnaps reader to be his sex-puppet:

♡ TOUCH

Bakugou smut alphabet:

♡ NSFW ABCs

Bakugo frustrate with his affection over this clueless moron:

♡ SCARY LOVE

Bakugou's darling puts on his hero costume:

♡ PLAYING DRESS-UP

Yandere captor Bakugou's likes cooking with his darling:

♡ HOBBIES

Yandere captor Bakugou's sleeping habits:

♡ SLEEPING HABITS

Bully ! Bakugou being heartbroken and desperately in love with you:

♡ HEARTBROKEN

Yandere captor Bakugou spanking reader:

♡ DADDY'S GIRL

Yandere captor Bakugou with tiny darling:

♡ PUFF

How Bakugou became yandere for his darling:

♡ YANDERE BEGINNINGS

Hermit forest-dweller ! Bakugou takes lost hiker ! darling captive:

♡ HERMIT

BNHA genderbender:

♡ FEM

Bakugou teaches you how to cum:

♡ STRUGGLE

Bully Bakugou kidnaps you during the purge:

♡ THE PURGE

Parole officer Bakugou accepts your bride:

♡ OUR LITTLE SECRET

Yandere captor Bakugou infantilizes darling:

♡ DADDY'S BABY

Captive reader rebels against yandere captor Bakugou:

♡ GONE WRONG

The Torodoki family makes use of their quirkless daughter - with friends:

♡ FAMILY FUN

What type of hybrid he is:

♡ HYBRID

Sad and lonely stalker Bakugou:

♡ DRIVEN MAD

You and Bakugou survive under a collapsed building together:

♡ SHARED TRAUMA

Yandere Bakugou kidnapped quirkless reader:

♡ HYPOCHONDRIA ADJACENT ♡ PART TWO ♡ more thoughts

The Bakusquad discovers Bakugou's Omega Housewife:

♡ SECRET ♡ PREQUEL

BNHA boys as mythic creatures x darling:

♡ MYTHIC

♡ BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA masterlist ♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist ♡ ALL masterlists

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rafeandonlyrafe · 1 year ago

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perfect wife

words: 1.9k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, breeding, mating press, established relationship, marriage, housewife stuff? cooking and cleaning

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog

it’s not that you enjoy cleaning all the time, but you get in certain moods, when your energy level is high and you got enough sleep the night before, that you absolutely love to clean, especially satisfying deep cleans.

today happens to be one of those days, and ever since you woke up, smiling at the note that rafe left you on his pillow, wishing you a good morning and saying he regretted not being there with you upon waking up, but also couldn’t bear rousing you from your sleep when he had to leave for work. it makes your heart flutter to see it signed not by his name but rather ‘from, your husband.’

you’ve been married to rafe for two whole months now, and it feels like a fairytale, somehow even better than being his girlfriend. you feel like a truly good wife as you already scrubbed all the bathrooms spotless before 10 am, and are now working on the common areas before hopefully cleaning the bedroom before rafe gets home from work.

you hum along to the music you have playing throughout the house wide sound system as you wipe down dusty surfaces, taking care to clean all the little crevices that normally get missed.

time flies and before you realize, your stomach starts to grumble as noon rolls by. you take a pause from your work, having just finished the living room, and move into the kitchen, deciding to make yourself some food before getting to cleaning.

you love to bake, but cooking is not your favorite thing, so you make yourself something simple before you get a spark of creativity, making a stew to simmer so it would be ready by the time rafe got home around dinner. you finish your meal, having disregarded it halfway through to make the stew.

you clean the kitchen while stirring occasionally before it gets to the point that you can lower the temperature and walk away, now off to clean the bedroom. you grab rafes hamper, filled with clean clothes that he didn’t have time to put away last night, too busy kissing and cuddling with you in bed.

you dump them onto the freshly washed bedsheets, taking the time and care to crisply fold everything or hang up what went on hangers. you even spend some time organizing rafes closet. he kept it pretty clean already, but you wanted to make everything perfect.

you run downstairs to check your stew before continuing onto your closet, it being a much bigger mess than rafes. you have a terrible habit of trying on clothes, deciding its not want you want to wear for the day, and tossing it onto the floor instead of putting it properly away.

“baby!” you hear rafe shout just as you finish up. you quickly flatten your hands over the comforter on the bed, smoothing out any creases to make the room truly flawless before you rush down the stairs, greeting your husband with a kiss as your arms loop around his shoulders.

“something smells good.” rafe says, taking a sniff of the entryway, the smell of the stew having radiated throughout the whole house.

“i made you food.” you tell him, smoothing your hands over his shoulders, keeping your body close to his having missed him all day. “it should be ready in about 30 minutes, just enough time for you to shower.” you know rafes routine well enough, he liked to shower right when he got home from work, to wash the day away.

“you’re the most perfect wife ever.” rafe bends his head to press kisses to your neck, making you giggle when he focuses on your ticklish spot.

“go shower!” you shoo him away, wanting him to have the soup when it is nice and hot.

“love you, honey.” rafe kisses your cheek before heading up the stairs. you echo the words back to him before heading towards the kitchen to check on the stew, but pause when you hear rafe calling your name from your bedroom.

you rush up the stairs, worried that you maybe accidentally threw something out that was important or moved something and he didn’t know where it was.

“what is it rafey?” you question, eyes wide as you see him looking around the room.

“you cleaned all this while i was at work? and put away my laundry?” rafe questions, seeing that even the baseboards have been cleaned of the bit of dust that always collects on them.

you give a shrug. “i like cleaning for you.” “you know you don’t have to do all this baby.” rafe moves to wrap his arms around your waist. “i mean i appreciate it, but don’t feel like you’re required to now that we are married.” “i know.” you smile, cupping his jaw in your hands. “i seriously just wanted to.” “okay.” rafe nods, satisfied with your answer. he knows you get little bursts of cleaning, but doesn’t want you to get the wrong impression about your role, even if you do stay home while he is at work.

“go shower.” you press a kiss to rafes lips before leaving him in the bedroom, smirking to yourself knowing that he’s about to see that you cleaned the bathroom as well.

you return to the stovetop, stirring everything together before preparing the final touches, even setting out the perfect silverware for the occasion, choosing the dining room for such a meal rather than the island where you and rafe usually eat.

you jump when rafe enters the kitchen. he always moves so quietly through the house that it catches you off guard.

“god, if we weren’t already married i would propose to you all over again right now.” rafe wraps his arms around your waist as you work on ladling the stew into individual bowls, deciding to keep the rest in the pot on the stove for easy splitting up into tupperware later.

“i like making food for you.” you hum. “don’t expect it all the time though, i also love getting take out.”

rafe laughs and nods his head in agreement, you have a habit of ordering food at least two times a week, making it a tradition on fridays to watch an episode of tv while you eat in the living room.

“let me carry them in.” rafe stops you before you can carry the bowls yourself, picking them up and following you into the dining room.

you blow on your spoon to cool the stew as rafe begins to eat, commentating over and over how delicious it is, even going so far as to moan and roll his eyes back into his head, but when you take a bite you can’t help but admit that it’s very good.

“when we finish eating-” rafe says after a few minutes of silence, too engrossed in your meal. “i’m going to take you upstairs and fuck you.” “rafe!” you giggle at the sudden lewdness.

“i’m serious, baby. i need to after you did all this cleaning, put away my laundry and made me food? i need to put a baby in you immediately.”

“well… hurry up and get back to eating.” you gesture to rafe. you talked about having kids after marriage, but this was the first time since your wedding that rafe brought up actually bringing them into the world.

you both rush through the rest of your meals, leaving the dishes on the table to be taken care of tomorrow as rafe sweeps you into his arms, carrying you up the stairs with ease. he sets you down on the bed, his lips connecting with yours as he works on taking off his pants, throwing them in the general direction of his hamper before pulling away to pull your shirt off over your head.

“i can’t fucking wait to see you all filled up with my kid.” rafe says, massaging your breasts through your bra, unable to keep his hands off of them, even to take off the fabric covering them.

“need that so bad, rafey.” you whimper. you’ve always wanted to be a mom, and it feels like the perfect time to make that dream a reality.

“gotta fuck you now, princess.” rafe says, quickly taking his shirt off, his cock already completely hard as he pulls his underwear down, clearly excited to put a baby into you.

you reach behind your back to take your bra off before sliding your leggings and underwear down in one go, needing rafe just as desperately as he needs you. you move up the bed, resting your head on the pillow as rafe moves to hover over you.

“i would eat you out or finger you but i need this right now.” rafe says, reaching down to rub at your clit as his tip presses against your entrance.

“i need you right now too.” you tell him, letting out a moan as he pushes in, moving slowly to let you adjust. you wrap your arms around his shoulders, rafes chest heaving with deep breaths, trying to control himself.

“you can move.” you tell rafe after a minute. he doesn’t give even a second for your comment to sit before he is thrusting in and out, making your joint moans echo throughout the room.

rafe presses sloppy kisses against yours, lips vibrating together when you’re both unable to hold back your noises of pleasure. “feels so good.” you whimper, his thumb still rubbing against your clit, never stopping making you feel good.

“i know it does, princess.” rafe says. “you’re doing so good for me. gonna fill you up real good.” “you’re gonna be the best daddy.” you tell rafe, and its true, you know just from the way he treats you, how he straightened out and takes care of you, that he’s going to be an amazing dad.

“fuck-” rafe curses, somehow able to move faster, slamming in and out of you, annihilating your cunt with the ferocity he is thrusting into you at. rafe is grunting with the effort he is giving as you grip his shoulders tightly, sure to leave red marks from your nails come morning.

“gonna go fucking crazy, your pussy is so good.” rafe says, as if he hasn’t already gone crazy with the way he’s fucking into you.

“keep rubbing rafe, i’m close.” you moan, back arching off the bed as his thumb rubs over your clit easily due to your slick.

“cum for me princess.” rafe begs you, needing to feel your cunt squeeze around him. you’d never deny your husband as he rubs you to orgasm, entire body shaking as your high hits you, moaning wildly as rafes cock maintains its blistering pace.

as soon as your clit pulses underneath his finger and your back settles back against the bed, rafe moves, pulling out briefly to reposition you, slotting his hands underneath your knees and pushing your legs up and open, spreading your cunt wide for him before his cock reenters you.

he begins to thrust immediately, keeping up the aggressive, feral pace. you’re so sensitive from your orgasm but you can’t complain when you know he’s working to get his cum inside of you, to fill you up, to grow your family.

“gonna cum.” rafe warns briefly, his words slurred out, his eyes half lidded from the ecstasy of your cunt as he pushes in for a final time, shooting his cum as deep as he can, leaning forward and pressing you into the mattress, not even caring as your thighs burn from the stretch.

rafe grinds himself into you until there is nothing more to release, moving your legs back to a more comfortable position but keeping his dick buried deep inside of you.

rafe looks at you with a smile, his sweaty hair sticking to his forehead. “gotta make sure it takes.”

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sohannabarberaesque · 1 year ago

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Obvious scene during a mating-season orgy with the Hair Bear Bunch

SQUARE BEAR, ever the dopey-sounding one, as he prepares to make his presence known into his mate of the moment: Ohhhh boy; is this gonna be a lulu of a lovemaking session! HIS MATE OF THE MOMENT, with some irony: Might it surprise you to know that my name happens to be Lulu, as a matter of fact.... [I assume you can imagine what ensueth]

@warnerbrosentertainment @railguner34 @a-gang-of-silly-bananas @theweekenddigest @archive-archives @screamingtoosoftly @thylordshipofbutts @princessgalaxy505 @thebigdingle @themineralyoucrave @warnerbros-blog1 @jellystone-enjoyer @wevelocityteampresents-blog @ultrakeencollectionbreadfan @warnerbrosent-blog

#hanna barbera #vignette #headcannon #hair bear bunch #square bear #bear mating habits #ursine quality time #ursine sexuality #hannabarberaforever

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unhealthyfanobsession · 7 months ago

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The most wild thing about Cassian’s feral and constant defence of anything Rhysand is that it could be such a beautiful pain rather than a confusing annoyance.

Like I love “MMC who only thinks about FMC” as much as the next person but why wasn’t Cassian allowed a SHRED of character development.

What if every time Nesta says something bad about Rhys it’s like a barely healed over scab ripping open beneath her nails. The agony of 50 years, half a century without his brother. The loss barely healed before war comes, the time never enough. Distant, they’ve still been so impossibly distant. In the same room laughing and drinking whiskey but minds entirely occupied with their own personal destruction and salvation, both bearing the name Archeron. They haven’t even had a single good day, a single complete day, where one of them wasnt heartbroken or war wasn’t beating down their door.

And the entire cauldron-damned time he was quelling rebellion in Illyria it was all he heard. Insults for the brother who gave everything to save them. Again and again, his whole life Cassian has had to fight and punch and bloody in defence of his brother. It’s instinct. He didn’t even think, lashing out with words as if his mate was Devlon. And he regretted it. Of course, the second the words left his mouth he regretted them, but … it was true, wasn’t it. In a sense, in a horrible way.

Everyone did hate Nesta.

Not the female herself, he knew, but what she reminded them of. She wore her trauma on her sleeve while they all choked and gargled on the blood still staining their hands and everyone hated her for it. Mor most of all, he guessed. An open wound, refusing to shut. It was why she was here. Why they were both here.

Fuck the money. Fuck the liquor and sex. It was the pain. The empty spot at the dining table, the aching absence in the pictures on the walls. They … well, he and Feyre, really, couldn’t stand her absence but her presence was nothing but a mirror. Reflecting everything still inside of them. Broken and raging and screaming insults at anyone who dared speak ill of his brother.

Habit, instinct, to lash out when one he loved was insulted.

He hated Nesta for hating Rhys. And he hated Rhys for hating Nesta.

Because what, in the almighty fuck, was he supposed to do with that?

When he loved them both so much.

#nessian #cassian #nesta archeron #acosf #sarah j maas #a court of thorns and roses #a court of silver flames #nesta and cassian #acotar #nessian fanfiction

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tired-biscuit · 11 months ago

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18+ MDNI, fem!reader // cw: hybrids, predator/prey dynamic, mounting, sort of dubcon-ish, a hint of somnophilia, breeding, established relationship.

wc: 1.6k

fox hybrid!naruto is as playful as much as he is sneaky.

he follows you around the apartment; curiously peeking from behind the corners, watching your every move not because he’s skittish, but rather because he wants to learn how you behave when you think he’s not around.

he does it quite often for some reason. perhaps it’s the wild of the predator that’s coursing his blood or the naive wonder that’s just signature for his personality, who knows, but if you catch him by any chance — and you do, he isn’t nearly as slick as he thinks he is — he immediately comes over, wraps his arms around you from behind and makes sure to comfort you and nip your cheek or bottom lip with his sharp fangs after every kiss he gifts you in apology.

still, he continues his watch. he learns your patterns over time despite the fact that he has a habit of tripping over his own two feet and blowing his cover with all the noise it causes. he learns the way you move, the little quirks that you exhibit, the timing of them. he learns them all as a safety precaution which he doesn’t really need if you think about it.

after all, he could slam into you full force as a means to take over and could simply make you submit to his predatory instinct just like a couple of his apex predator friends had done with their own mates in the past. he’s well aware that he’d win if he did it that way; he’s no wolf or bear, but he’s still stronger and armored with a far bigger set of teeth than the one that currently sits in your mouth.

however, the problem is that you’re sneaky too.

you’re a tough little thing to grasp — hard to impress, even worse to court. are practically made to slip between a person’s fingers if they were to try and squeeze you into their fist without asking for permission to do so first. on top of all that, you being a cat hybrid amongst all the other possibilities available doesn’t help his situation either; it makes you exceptionally perceptive and equally as hard to dominate because of it. so troublesome!

and that’s not all there is to it. even your eyesight is spectacular, as is your awareness of your surroundings. the triangle-shaped ears that sit atop your head twitch and constantly angle in the direction of the smallest movement he makes. and naruto knows that they do, that they listen and assess the danger. he’s tested it out so many times during the course of your relationship.

the first step he takes towards you whenever your back is turned in his direction is also usually his last because of how fast you are to turn around to face him in mere seconds, rigid body language exhibiting high alert. he’s never even gotten the chance to fully sneak up on you yet, much less tackle you into a play fight.

this entire thing would be so much easier if you were a bunny. he’d push and you’d take it like a good little rabbit, the end. everyone knows that bunny hybrids practically throw themselves before the jaws of a predator and spread their strong legs just as willfully the moment their first heat comes into play.

but naruto, even whilst itching to conquer you because of the beast within, kind of digs the challenge a moody little kitty such as yourself brings to the table. especially when the effort that he’s put into all this preying finally manages to pay off.

actually, it enables him to catch you when you’re least expecting it — during your afternoon nap.

your feline behaviour really shines at its brightest when you doze off. instinctively drawn to warmth, he’s since learned that you always fall asleep in the patch of sunlight that spills through the window and onto the couch across the room when the days are clear and the curtains are pushed to the side. always in the same position, too. on your tummy, with your limbs relaxed and stretchy; tail swishing from side to side ever so slightly before going completely still. just like now.

oh shit, there it is; the sign he’s been waiting for!

your tail has stopped moving so that means you’re completely out for the next half hour, perhaps even more. he watches from a safe distance just to make sure, leaning against the doorway that leads into the living room and straining his fox ears as hard as he’s possibly able as a means to catch every sound.

thud, thud, thud. your heartbeat is calm, as is your breathing. you’re at ease while you sleep, he can not only hear it but see it too. open and vulnerable and trusting, allowing yourself to be caught completely off guard. you could almost pass as docile, the way you look right now, but he knows better — he’s been with you for long enough to know.

so he takes one step forward, slowly. toes, heel. nothing happens.

he takes another. all is well.

and then all of a sudden, before your heavy eyelids can get the chance to crack open at the sound of fast-approaching footsteps, and before you can come back to from the depths of the cozy catnap you were so pleasantly indulging in, naruto at long last makes his move.

your sweet fox boyfriend pins you down with his weight as he lays on top of you; he squeezes you flat against the couch until your cheek is pressing into its soft cushions. he’s warm and shirtless and his skin smells like the summery shower gel he must have washed himself with earlier, but he doesn’t seem to be scared of your claws that might come in contact with him, promising pain.

even his hair is still damp. a small droplet of water lands on your cheek when you try to turn your head to the side to look at him.

you hiss at him with prominent annoyance when it slides down the edge of your jaw, the action a subtle warning that clearly tells him to stop this nonsense right now, but he’s been expecting that, too. so he works quickly to try and tame you into submission, allowing instinct to take charge because it’s the only safe bet he has.

you’re surprised how easily he works his way around you and it’s entirely your fault. he doesn’t show how strong he actually is underneath all the shy caresses that he gives you and the nice grins and it makes you forget, giving you a false sense of authority that quickly diminishes when you’re the one experiencing that raw power on your own body.

so it’s no wonder that you stand no chance while he manhandles you and keeps you caged underneath him. that you feel utterly helpless while he drags your comfortable little shorts down your legs with zero problem; until they’re hanging off one ankle right along with your panties.

he frees his cock, fists it a couple of times with the help of some drool before he mounts you then, breathing hard and still making sure to avoid the claws you’re bound to sink into him the second he releases your wrists. he’s holding them both with just one hand, seemingly mocking your incompetency even further, albeit completely unintentionally.

and it’s true; he doesn’t mean it. naruto has never been mean-spirited like that despite the whole predator aspect that lives and roars beneath his gorgeous tan skin.

but foxes can be tricky.

so he holds his grip and they dig into the couch instead, your claws. they get caught in the blanket that you’re both sweating on top of now as his hips rut into you and yours follow the deep, almost animalistic rhythm even though your anger and pride tell you to stop, stop, fucking stop obeying him.

but you can’t stop, you’re forced to submit because he’s a bigger threat than you are; it’s just how your brain is wired. you bend to survive. it’s exactly like that situation with the scrawny mouse girl who you used to tease and endlessly make fun of back in high school.

how does it feel to be on the prey side, little kitty?

you’re unsure how to feel about this entire thing, it might be because your mind has slipped into a certain kind of haze. he fucks you like he’s never fucked you before and a prolonged mewl that you can’t hold back leaves your lips when his teeth sink into the crook of your neck all of a sudden, marking you.

the strap of your tank top is hanging off your shoulder, exposing you further, and his hot, greedy mouth follows the naked skin without a second thought, just biting, licking, sucking. marking.

he’s growling and snarling into your ear every time he slams into you, sounding like the exact opposite of himself. you’re no better either; you keep making so much noise that you’re ashamed of yourself. moaning and whining, squirming and thrashing underneath him. by the time he fills you up with his seed, you’ll probably start to purr.

just the thought alone makes you feral. the sudden urge to be bred and bear his children plagues your mind like the deadliest storm. imagining your pussy leaking his warm cum is simply too good while stuck in a lowly position such as this one.

his cock is throbbing inside you as he pounds into your slick cunt, trying to push its way into your fucking womb. he’s big and heavy, hot in your tummy and hard to fit. the adrenaline that he’s getting because of the complete control he now has over you is surely exciting him enough to make him see god.

he probably won’t see god, though.

oh no, you’ll make sure to drag this wicked fox into the very depths of hell the second his knot stops swelling and he releases you from his iron-like grip.

#i had to get this outta my system cos it’s been eating me alive fjdjdjhd #naruto smut #naruto x reader #naruto uzumaki x reader #naruto uzumaki smut #biscuit drabbles #cw hybrids #cw dubcon #cw somnophilia #cw breeding

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grandline-fics · 1 year ago

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Shifting Focus

DESCRIPTION: The moment they began to see you as more than just a crew-mate

WARNINGS: None

CHARACTERS: Sanji, Law | Shanks,Kid, Smoker

WORD COUNT: 1,125

MASTERLIST

---------------

SANJI

Another battle done, another town unexpectedly saved and the Strawhats were front in centre of a celebration banquet thrown by the thankful civilians. Never one to turn down the chance to enjoy themselves with a good party everyone in the crew savoured every moment of it before they’d have to set sail again. Chopper, Luffy, Franky, and Usopp were laughing and joking around as usual. Zoro had found a relatively quiet place to drink while still enjoying the atmosphere. Brook stood with the musicians, already he’d picked up on their songs and was able to join them perfectly. As always Sanji’s first priority was the food, looking over everything appreciatively and talking to the cooks to learn any new flavour combinations or techniques.

The sound of cheering pulled him from his careful examination of how the meat was prepared. Across the town square he watched as you, Nami, and Robin were being taught the dance moves of a local dance. You were getting the hang of it but when you were meant to kick your leg out, you twirled which knocked you into Nami. Together the two of you were knocked towards the ground only to be stopped by Robin’s summoned limbs. The three of you laughed along with the other dancers. Sanji couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle, that was you all over.

Even when you stumbled you still found a way to find a positive about it all. After getting untangled from your crew-mate you wandered over to the food table and grinned happily at Sanji. “Were you blown away by my amazing dance skills?” you asked playfully, eyes trained solely on his face.

“I couldn’t take my eyes off you.” Sanji admitted with a flirtatious grin, returning your intent stare with equal attention for emphasis. He took in the way your eyes sparkled under the soft light of the lanterns hung above your head, the way your lips spread out into the brightest smile that was too infectious to fight. All around him he could hear the laughter and sound of other women and only now did he realise that you were the only person he wanted to pay attention to. Suddenly the sound of the music changed into something fast and you gasped excitedly, reaching for Sanji’s hand. “Wh-”

“C’mon Black Leg, dance with me!” you urged, tugging him towards the centre of the square. Slowly you looked over your shoulder to fix him with a challenging look. “Or do you think you can’t keep up with me?” Sanji stared at you and prayed he wasn’t misreading the hopeful glint in your eyes. Could it be your words held more weight beyond the light-hearted flirting he’d been used to?

Not wanting to let the chance go, he tightened his grip on your hand and twirled you effortlessly while walking with you to the dance floor. “Oh I’m with you every step of the way.”

LAW

Law was exhausted and yet even with being a doctor, he chose to push himself further instead of actually taking the free time they were between islands to rest. He sat hunched over his desk, gaze pouring over multiple medical textbooks and charts of the islands they could end up at. Absently he heard the sound of footsteps in the hall but kept his tired eyes focused on the pages in front of him. “Captain? You haven’t gone to bed yet?” A low sigh came from his lips before he looked to Bepo. His deadpan expression telling the bear that obviously he hadn’t. He knew the crew was concerned for this awful sleeping habits but this was something that needed to be done.

“I’ll go soon.” He told the navigator and dropped his head back down, nothing more needed to be said. At least that was what Law thought. Two hours ago he’d promised Sachi he’d ‘go to bed soon’ and Penguin was promised the same an hour before that. It was getting out of hand so Bepo walked through the corridors of the Polar Tang in determination. Twenty minutes later the door to Law’s study opened and he snapped his head up. “Bepo I said-!” he shut his mouth to see you entering.

“Oh dear, Captain, we might need to get your eyes checked if you think I share any resemblance to him.” You teased while approaching the table. Law kept his head down but was acutely aware of you standing behind him, your gaze sweeping over what was causing today’s lack of sleep. Offering nothing more than a small hum of interest you set a cup of tea and a snack beside his elbow and stepped around to the opposite side of the table again. His stare moved from the offering to you as you sat on the edge of the table, one of the texts lifted into your hand.

“Aren’t you going to tell me to go to bed?” he asked with a frown, watching as you flipped the page and shook your head. “Why not?”

“Not much point in doing that is there, Captain?” You asked innocently with a knowing smile. “You never listen. I mean it’s fine, you know best.” Law folded his arms and continued to watch you. “There’s actually a bet now.”

“A bet?” Law repeated in interest and slight worry. Bets among the crew were standard, something to help pass the time but when it was about him, it was something he couldn’t ignore. You nodded and turned the text around to face him, lightly tapping a passage for him to read. Law’s eyes flickered down briefly to note the page and saw it was exactly what he was looking for; notes about a virus that was common in one of the islands they were heading to along with it’s method of treatment. But that wasn’t the pressing matter anymore he found. “What’s the bet?”

“Oh just just the guys betting what time you’ll actually fall asleep at. Whoever guesses right wins a date with me.” You answered so casually and leant over the table to grab another textbook. He observed you so intently, trying to hide his shock at the terms of the bet. He stared at you hard, searching your face for any trace that it was a lie but the twisting knot was growing in his stomach. He all but flinched when you unleashed the full force of your stare at him. “If you go to bed now, they all lose.” Your voice was low, practically urging him to make a decision. Whether you were lying about the bet or not, Law’s body acted immediately. He got to his feet and strode to the door, leaving you to smirk triumphantly. “Night Captain.”

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece fic #black leg sanji #sanji x reader #trafalgar law #law x reader #one piece imagines #one piece x you #one piece fanfiction #vinsmoke sanji #trafalgar one piece #trafalgardwaterlaw

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sensitive-neuvi-enthusiast · 1 year ago

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Day 8: Breeding

♤♡-Pairs: Zhongli x Fem!reader

☆☆-Warnings: mentions of cum, tummy bulge, mating press, messy, mentions of getting reader pregnant, horny Zhongli, enjoy (;

When you came home from your shift this evening, you hadn't thought you'd come face to face with your husband. Working at the Funeral Parlor, he usually came home at later hours. But instead you found him sat on the couch, legs crossed as he held a cup of tea in his hand. And he only simply nodded when you greeted him.

Maybe it'd been a long day.

He would talk to you when he was ready, so you made your way into the kitchen. Rolling up your sleeves as you set to wash your hands, prepared to start dinner. Little did you know, that dinner would be long forgotten. You felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist and a nose brush against the skin of your neck. "I don't need dinner tonight. I only want you and that sweet pussy of yours."

Your hand immediately paused, your eyes widening. Zhongli's tone was different...deeper, more primal. And you couldn't help but squeeze your thighs together, out of habit. He chuckled deep in his throat, pressing his lips to your neck. "Meet me in our room, undressed." You swallowed thickly before nodding, he gave you one more kiss before slipping his hands from around you.

You had never moved so fast in your life, quickly drying your hands, you made your way to the shared bedroom. Quickly shedding your clothes, lying down on the silk of the sheets. Heavy footsteps made their way up the stairs shortly after. You weren't sure why he made you come up first or why you didn't enter together. But that wasn't important. The door opened, his large frame entering the room. His eyes never left your form as he undressed himself. Eyes full of lust and want, they seemed almost...darker.

Soon, he was just as bare as you, knees settling on the mattress. Arms caging you in as he stared you down. "This is a rare occurrence and I think it's time. I'm going to pump this tummy of yours full of my cum." His words tapered off as he ran a hand across your stomach. "You'll be so full, there's no chance that you won't be bearing my children. Do you understand?" Heat pooled in your stomach at his words, you nodded unable to say anything. He smiled, were his...teeth sharper? And was that..

His cock, it had grown in size, both length and girth. He was already big to begin with, thick veins running along his shaft. Would you even be able to take that..? He answered your question by properly preparing you first. Sliding his fingers in his mouth before slipping them into your heat. Pumping them in and out, adding more to make sure you were stretched properly. Already, tears welled in your eyes from the pleasure. "You are going to look radiant swollen with my children."

Once Zhongli was sure you were prepped enough, both hands grabbed at your thighs. Pressing them up until you were practically folded in half. The length of his cock rubbed sweetly against your leaking sex. And he didn't waste anytime, he fed himself into you until there was a small bulge in your stomach. He'd reached your womb.

You whined, still unable to speak and you had a feeling that would be the case for the rest of the night. Looking down, you could see him inside you. He watched your face, watching for any discomfort before pulling back, thrusting back into you. Setting a pace that made the bed shake and smack against the wall. The sound of slapping skin echoed throughout the whole room. He groaned, deep and guttural as he pounded into you.

"Gonna fill you up nice, sweetheart. You'll be leaking my cum." His hips snapped forward, your breasts shook from the power. Your thighs shivered and cramped from the position but it was so delicious you couldn't be bothered to complain. All you could do was grip tight to the sheets and sob. Your breath catching in your throat as he used you like he wanted.

A mess was being made, you knew this for a fact. Your ankles groaned from the tight grip he had on them, keeping them in place above your head. He slid in and out, over and over again until finally his hips stilled. Spilling his load inside your warm insides, but he didn't stop there. Almost immediately, he picked back up. The sound almost obscene with how wet it sounded. A mixture of your arousal and his cum, coating your thighs and pussy.

"Need to fill you up more, I need you leaking."

You sobbed openly as he did just as he promised. That night, he had cum so much inside you that when he finally pulled out. It immediately gushed, leaking on the sheets and all the way back to your ass. That wouldn't do, he'd have to keep his baby plugged up.

Safe to say, you slept with his cock still inside you that night.

Masterlist

Prev. ☆ Next.

#genshin impact #kinktober #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin zhongli #zhongli #zhongli x reader #zhongli x you #zhongli smut #lovelies-getting-freaky

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ldysmfrst · 3 months ago

Text

American Mate (13) - Shall We?

Paring: Hybrid!BTS Ot7 x Plus-sized Human FemReader

Status: Ongoing series

Chapter number: 13 of unknown

Word count for Chapter: 9,681

Work count for Story: 96,460

Genre: Hybrid Playmate Au inspired by works created by @yoongiofmine

A little about the author: I am a mother of two beautiful children, one of whom has special needs, and the other loves everyone. I started a Patreon, and I would be grateful if you donated to help me make ends meet while I am out of work because I almost died in August of 2024.

Warnings: NOT BETA READ!! This chapter does have pack dynamics, comfort, possessiveness, angst, major mentions of past trauma, Violence, Loss of pregnancy, and Alpha fronting.

BTS HYBRID ANIMAL TYPES: Seokjin - Roan Ferret, Yoongi - Black Jaguar, Hoseok - Marten, Namjoon - Alaskan Timber Wolf, Jimin - Red Panda, Taehyung - White Southwest African Tiger, Jungkook - Flemish Giant Rabbit

AMERICAN MATE MASTER LIST / LDYSMFRST MASTER LIST

Knockknockknock

Startling you out of your depressing thoughts, you call out, “Who is it? I am in the bath still.”

“Ma’am, I am Bethan Ann, Omegan Alaskan Bear Hybrid and head of the preparation team. Prime Alpha Kim sent us to get you ready for the Gala. Whenever you are ready, please come out,” calls a sweet voice.

“Oh, is it really that time already?” you comment.

“Yes, ma’am but no worries, we have plenty of time. Prime Alpha Kim stressed the importance of going at your pace to ensure your relaxation,” Bethany Ann informs. “We will wait for you in the living room.”

You think whelp time for solitude is over as you climb out of the bath and dry off. You have to remember that in the future, you can ask the boys for anything, even alone time. They have told you that, and so has their manager, Sejin.

After slipping on Namjoon’s robe, you cannot help but smile as the scent of leather blends with the vanilla from your bath. Surprisingly, it is a delightful mix. The vanilla softens the leather, offering comfort and a sense of safety.

Namjoon is the leather boy of the group. Being a Prime Alpha, it makes sense that his scent is naturally stronger. It makes it easier for him to leave his scent behind as a show of possession and territory.

Walking out of the bathroom, a blush settles over your cheeks at the thought of having the Alaskan Timber Wolf hybrid claim possession over you.

“Ma’am?” asks a younger woman standing at your doorway. “If you please, would you follow me to the living room? Bethany Ann thought that it would be easier for the Alphas of the house to watch you from there without being in the way.”

“Sure, but you won’t have to worry about them. Jimin and Yoongi know to stay out of the area,” you mention, following behind her.

“True, I believe it was the two of them that may have dragged the third one away,” she giggles.

“Oh? Third one? Jungkook?” Your confusion is showing.

“Ah yes, he wasn’t happy with Bethany Ann being present since she is of hybrid descent,” the young lady smiled softly. “He was worried about scent tainting, but Miss Bethany Ann doesn’t have any scent glands.”

“Yep, I was born with them but they weren’t very strong. My mother was human, and my father was a hybrid, which means I only got the smaller scent glands, fluffy hair, body structure, and strange sleeping habits,” Bethany Ann says as she joins the conversation.

“Oh, I didn’t know that traits would pass down like that,” you say in awe.

“There are more hybrid mixed humans out there than people are aware of. Many end up losing their physical animal features but keep some of the other behavioral or physical traits.” Bethany Ann smiles.

“How can you not have a scent but you have scent glands?”

Bethany Ann’s smile falters, but before you can withdraw your question, she says, “Bears have glands in either their hands or feet. I ended up with skin cancer that spread to the scent glands in my feet. I was lucky enough that we caught it and removed the infected tissues before it got any farther.”

“Anyways, we are here to turn you from the pretty woman you already are into a gorgeous princess ready for her ball right?” Bethan Ann says as she has you sit in a salon chair.

Everything before you that is set up on the vanity before you look brand new: makeup, jewelry, and hair pieces. Bethany Ann is the principal stylist and has two human assistants: Cindy and Kat.

Bethany Ann oversees your makeup, Cindy works on your hair, and Kat deals with your nails. Soon enough, the three of you laugh, and it feels like you have known them for years.

You learn that Bethany Ann met Cindy and Kat, a mom-and-kid duo rocking the Cosmetic industry, during BTS’s Love Yourself World Tour. They were set to go on the Map of the Soul tour, which got canceled. However, they got along so well and had an equal love for Ateez that they made their own line of cosmetics called MayNell.

You notice a purple, white, and silver trend in all of the choices. “I take it my dress is purple or white?”

“Ah, well we have a few choices for you that are either purple, white, silver, or black. Namjoon already has his suit ready and we will match his accessories to the color of your dress,” Bethany Ann informs you.

It seems time flies when you are having fun.

Kat, you had learned, is gender fluid, born female. Their mom, Cindy, was a widow and that “cat friend” that everyone had. Both were human but found themselves more comfortable around hybrids than anyone else.

“Oh yeah, I… you guys were amazing. I feel great and relaxed because of you three,” you sigh. “I just wish I could see you again. Can we exchange numbers?”

“Oh of course! In fact, I am sure if you bat your eyes a little and let those boys know that you want us around we can find a way to become your primary team,” suggests Cindy.

“Really?” You question with your hopes up as you hand over your phone. “I couldn’t flat out ask Namjoon for that. You have others to work on.”

“Actually, we are contracted. Which means we can take on any client we want, if the proposal to be your prep team comes by our desk…” Bethany Ann looks at the other two, “I don’t think any of us would be against it.”

Taking back your phone, you think about the proposal. Could you ask for that? You are just a Playmate. It’s not like you will be in front of the camera that often, right?

You got along with all of them, but Bethany Ann felt more like a sister, like how your Omega Evie felt. You could easily see her getting along with your family pack, but now wasn’t the time to add new members.

You learned that as a hybrid descendant, she didn’t have a “predominant” second gender like full-fledged hybrids, but she identified as a Beta. When she was younger, she hated being a part of the hybrid “collective,” as she used to call it until she was an adult.

She got her college degree in fashion and cosmetics and started working under JYP. While working under JYP, she met several Idols and ended up working with StrayKids. She admitted that she now follows the hybrid culture because of one of the StrayKids members. This led to an almost hour-long session for all four of you about StrayKids.

You confess that your Bias is Flix and your wrecker is Chan, which causes the others to almost fall off their chairs in laughter.

“Chan as in Bang Chan aka Christopher?” asks Bethany Ann.

“Well yeah, not Changbin though I used to get their names confused at the beginning because I knew Chan as Chris but that man has like so many names. I mean heck one of them even has numbers in it!.”

You look at Bethany Ann as she continues to laugh but pulls out her phone.

She puts her phone on speaker, and you hear it ringing a few times before a voice comes on, “Hey, babydoll, aren’t you working right now?”

Your eyes turn to saucers as you hear the Australian accent in the voice over the phone. Involuntarily, you let out an unladylike gasp of “no way in hell” and cover your mouth, looking rapidly between the phone and the bear hybrid.

“Hi Channie, I am at work and my client turns out to be a StrayKids stan,” she says with a giggle still in her voice.

“Oh, was that her in the background that I heard?” Chan asks. Of course, he would hear it. Like most idols, StrayKids has only two human members but Chan, the leader and Alpha, is a Tasmania Tiger-wolf hybrid.

Shaking your head, your eyes still unblinking, you attempt to stop Bethany Ann from bringing the phone closer to you.

“You got it. Guess who her bias is?” teases Bethan Ann.

“Me?” questions the Aussie with a hilt of excitement.

“Nope sorry love. It’s Felix-ah. Is he nearby? Though maybe she could say hi,” inquires Bethany Ann.

“Nononononono,” you hiss quietly, “Bethany Ann… noo.”

However, to your luck(??), you hear Chan’s muffled yelling before he gets back on the phone, “Can I talk to the Stay, babydoll?”

You let out an undignified eek sound, which caused another laughing fit and a laugh from the phone: “Wait, wait… did you tell her?”

“Nope. Guess I should though. Y/n, Christopher is my mate. We found out the first time I worked with StrayKids, he courted me and it's been official for a little over a year.”

“Oh my god! My wrecker is Mated! I am sorry! I can pick someone else. I promise!”

Again, you are met with more laughter from everyone. “Babydoll, let me talk to my Stay.”

“You are on speakerphone, and her name is Y/n, and technically, she is Felix-ah’s Stay,” Bethan Ann says as she places the phone in your hand. You just look at it.

“Hello Y/n, I am Bang Chan, leader of StrayKids. Thank you for being a stan of my pack,” he says smoothly, his Aussie accent coming out the more he speaks.

“Hi,” is all you can say.

“You don’t have to worry about picking a different wrecker. Bethany Ann knows that I have people who like me. While I can’t say that I am happy to only be your wrecker, I can say that I am honored to have a fan who would respect my mate as well as you do.”

“Hey, Innie said you wanted me, Alpha?” A very deep-voiced Felix is heard through the phone, causing your breath to catch.

“Bethany called and wanted us to talk to someone. Here. Say hi and introduce yourself properly,” Chris says before you can hear the phone move around.

“안녕하세요, 저는 StrayKids의 Felix입니다. 잘 지내시죠?” the deep voice says.

It’s at that moment you die.

Like almost literally.

It isn’t till Bethany Ann nudges your shoulder that you respond, “안녕하세요, Felix-ssi.”

“Oh, Y/n speaks Korean? She was speaking English,” you hear Chris comment in the back.

“Y/n, do you prefer English?” asks Felix.

You nod, then remember this is over the phone, “Ah yes, please. I know Korean... kinda but I am American so English is my first language. Icanspeakineitherwhicheveryouwantmeto.”

You hear a chuckle rumble over the speaker as Felix understands what he got brought into. Dropping his voice into his lower register, Felix asks, “Y/n, you wouldn’t happen to be one of our lovely Stays would you?”

Your palms are sweating as you answer, “I am.”

“Hmm…” he almost growls. “I take it from Channie-hyung’s face that he isn’t your bias then?”

From the background, Chris comments, “I am her wrecker, at least.”

“That’s very nice,” Felix says, causing you to giggle softly. “I would think it would be even more nice if that meant… I was your bias, Y/n. Am I?”

“Ah huh,” you affirm, as you cannot believe you are even having this conversation.

StrayKids is known for not working with any Playmate service companies, so you knew you would only get to meet or talk to them if you could only find a way to afford a fan meet or a send-off.

“Well now you at least have talked to us, Y/n.” Felix states.

“Shit. I said that outloud?” you question, looking around only to have the team trying their best not to die from laughter.

“Yes, you did, but that is okay, you're mine, and any friend of noona’s is a friend of ours,” the blonde Aussie says.

“Careful now, Felix-ah. Y/n-noona is Bangtan’s newest Playmate and my client. So keep the flirting to a minimum thank you,” Bethany Ann playfully scolds the boy.

“Alright, noona, I will behave, but you have to find a way for her to come see us. I would still love to meet her,” says Felix with a whine.

“That is if she can get away from Bangtan Pack,” Chris pipes up.

“두 분이 계시네요,” another voice joins in . “이제 행사장으로 갈 시간입니다.”

“Okay Innie,” Felix agrees. “Oh wait, INNNNIIEEE.”

“뭐가 필요하세요, Lix?” the voice, now known as Innie, says.

“Say hi to my Stay Y/n-noona,” Felix instructs. “In english.”

“Oh. Hi noona! I am Jeong-In. You may be Lix’s stay for now but don’t worry. I will save you!”

“Yah!!!” you hear before a clattering noise takes over.

“Jeong-In-ssi, Felix-ssi, Chan-ssi???!!!” you exclaim.

“Got it!” Chan says, picking up the line. “Innie always tries to convince Felix's stans to fall for him instead. No worries, noona. It’s all fun and games. But yeah, you should come see us one day,” Chris affirms.

“I hate to cut this short but we really do have to get over to MusicBank. Babydoll, you know what to do. See you when you get a chance,” Chan says before the line goes dead.

“I cannot believe you!” you playfully slap Bethany Ann’s shoulder. “I was not prepared! Like you cannot just call up someone like that!”

“Sorry, but I couldn’t help it after your 5- —or was it a 10-minute speech about why Chan is the best leader and how amazing Felix was for persevering,” Bethany Ann smiles at you and goes back to getting you ready.

(NOTE: If you would like to see what is being described, please go to American Mate- LACMA Gala with Namjoon)

After trying on a few gorgeous dresses, your heart stuttered in your chest when you tried on a specific purple one. Purple had always been your favorite color, and you had your fair share of purple dresses, but this… this was something else.

It was a Fongt African Evening Maxi Dress, allowing you to move comfortably while showing off your natural shape.

There was a peephole in the chest area that was not very provocative. According to Bethany Ann, “You gotta keep it classy but still appealing.”

The sleeves had a slit from neckline to wrist with one strip of cloth allowing it to still move with your arms just above the bend of your elbow.

The cuffs were lined with satin and pearls, which you learned were real when they matched with beautiful dangle earrings with a flower resembling the bracelet that Seokjin gave you.

Your shoes were made of white satin and wrapped around genuine pearl ankle straps. The heels were high enough to be a heel but still comfortable to walk in, but what they did was elongate your leg when you stepped forward, and the slit in the skirt of the dress opened to just above the knee.

Your makeup was done with a dramatic black winged liner, purple eyeshadow to match the dress, and white accents to pull more pearl and satin into your look. Your lips were kept natural with a simple satin-speckled gloss.

Your nails were painted an almost hombre look, going from white tips to deep purple and an almost matching satin-speckled topcoat.

Finally, your hair was curled, re-curled, and pinned within an inch of your life, but it looked amazing. It flowed like a river in soft waves down one side of your head. Somehow, they gave you volume and fake bangs, which you could never do on your own.

“All done,” announces Bethany Ann.

Ring Ring

“Hello?” you answer your phone.

“Y/n, it’s Namjoon. Jen should be there with the car shortly. Are you almost ready to go? Did MayNell do well?”

“Yes, they were amazing. I haven’t had this much fun getting ready for a Gala in my life,” you say, smiling at the team. Movement behind them catches your attention as you see Jen approach.

“Oh, Jen is here now. I have to go, Namjoon. I will see you soon.”

“Really quick hand the phone to one of the team, please, before you go,” instructs Namjoon.

“Bethany Ann, he wants to talk to one of you,” you say, holding out the phone. A series of Yes, Prime Alphas, that won’t be a problem, understood, and humms come from her while you wave hello to Jen.

The conversation isn’t long and ends with Bethany mumbling something about it being in the trunk before she hangs up and hands you back the phone.

“It looks like we will be seeing you again, as we will be on stand-by at the Gala for last-minute touch-ups and maintenance throughout the night,” she says with a smile. The other two clapped excitedly as they piled up the used makeup so they would know what to use for later tonight.

“Miss Y/l/n, we should get going soon. Prime Alpha Kim is already on location,” Jen informs you.

Nodding, you make your way to follow Jen, waving goodbye to the team. Once outside, you see that it’s the same black car that was used for your date with Seokjin. Carefully making it down the stairs to the car, you hear a cat call coming from behind you.

Spinning around, you see Yoongi still whistling at you, and Jimin and Jungkook join in with hoots and hollers.

“Who is that sexy beast?” Jimin calls out, causing you to blush.

Jungkook is snapping probably a trillion pictures while he yells, “Work with me, pose, and pose. Now Vogue!”

“Have a lovely night, Princess,” Yoongi calls out while holding onto the back of his younger mates to keep them from running after you like he wants to.

The drive is calming, Jen, having put on 104.3 MyFm. The pop songs allow you to just live in them for now.

You thought you would be more nervous about tonight than you really are, but Bethany Ann, Cindy, and Kat made you feel comfortable, and the boys made you feel wanted.

Even if they were a bit dorky about it.

With that, your mind wanders to the rest of the boys. They all knew that you were nervous about tonight. It wasn’t just the Gala with the dancing, tons of famous people, and the media that was making you nervous– it was Namjoon.

Sure, you went on a non-date date with Seokjin, which felt more like an actual date than any you had ever been on, but that was with Jin. Someone closer to your age, not the Prime Alpha of a sizeable mate-bonded pack, and someone not powerful enough to make or break your career.

Prime Alpha Kim Namjoon was.

Looking out the car window, you see you are on a beautiful winding road, not the busy streets you expected.

“Jen, where are we?”

“We are almost there, Miss. Prime Alpha Kim is waiting for you just ahead,” she responds with a smile.

Turning around a final bend, you see the unmistakable dome of the Griffith Observatory. When you first got to California, you used to come here all the time. You can see a few spattering groups of people, but it was fall and getting colder earlier, so there weren’t many.

After Jen parked the car, she got out and opened your door. Guiding you around the side of the building, you see a few men in suits blocking a path for visitors, but allow the two of you in.

“He is right down this path, Miss,” Jen instructs. “The car will be waiting and ready to head to the Gala when you are finished.”

“Thank you, Jen,” you say as you walk down the path around the left of the main building.

Once you come around the last of the curve, you see a stunning view of Los Angeles. The sun is starting to set, which is casting a red and orange tint on the skyscrapers. You can see the lights from homes and offices turn on, making it look like the sky has blessed the ground with stars, but that isn’t what falters your steps.

Right now, you see him.

Namjoon.

He was observing the same setting sun with his back to you. He looked like a king looking over his kingdom, and his power and presence exuded from his very being.

100% Alpha.

His suit isn’t the one from this morning—no, no. It’s solid white from top to bottom, and against the bleeding colors of the sun, it makes him look stunning. His broad shoulders and solid back look like they could carry the world. The suit jacket accentuates his waist. The pants—wow, the strain of the material emphasizes the musculature beneath them.

Absent-mindedly, you have continued to walk forward with timid steps, and the slight breeze from behind you carries your scent to the Prime Alpha before he hears you.

With a quick turn, he faces you with a smile that turns to awe and shock as he takes you in. He knew you were beautiful before, but now, “You look like an angel.”

You shy at his words as you join him, “You are the one in all white, Namjoon. You look more like an angel.”

Upon hearing your words, a faint blush dusts his cheeks. Clearing his throat, he genuinely smiles at you, dimples and all, “I could never be an angel, but you sure could be mine.”

“Thank you,” you accept his compliment with your own responding blush.

Looking past him to gather your thoughts, you smile again at the view, “It’s so pretty up here. Isn’t it? I used to come here all the time.”

“I know,” he comments, causing you to look at him with a furrowed brow. “I may have asked your Beta, where your favorite spot in the city was. I hope you don’t mind?”

“Looking into me, I see,” you tease. “I don’t mind. I think it’s sweet that you were interested in knowing and wanting to surprise me. Brownie points for caring.”

Your last comment now draws a look of confusion from him: “Has no one ever brought you here before?”

Walking up to the railing, you debate how much you want him to know before the Gala. This would be the best time to discuss things with him before he goes from Namjoon to RM.

“I... I don’t have much experience in this, Namjoon,” you start. “Everything I tell you tonight, you should tell Bangtan.”

Without waiting for his agreement, you continue, “After moving to California when I was 11, I pretty much became an only child with a controlling but distant mother. I learned what it meant to be a family or a pack from Evie’s family.”

Namjoon joins you at the railing. His body turned to face you, his attention on nothing else. Glancing at the intensity of his focus, you pause and focus back on the slowly darling sky.

“I learned in high school that touching, hugging, cuddling was equal to whoring since I wasn’t a hybrid. So when a boy or girl would become comfortable with any of it, I took it as if they wanted to be with me.”

“How wrong I was,” you sigh out. Namjoon, having moved closer to you while slowly pushing his calming leather scent into the air.

“I dated a few times. According to my mother, I slutted my way through the short time I was in college till I ended up meeting Eric. I thought he was going to be my forever.”

It takes everything within Namjoon to keep his Alpha at bay while you talk about being with someone else. You are their mate and no one else’s. How dare someone lie to you about you being theirs.

At your silence, Namjoon tentatively takes a step forward and places a hand on your shoulder, “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to, Y/n.”

“I know, but with you being the Prime Alpha of the pack, there are things you should know.”

Taking a deep breath and leaning into Namjoon’s touch, you feel your nerves settle down a little bit more.

“Eric was fantastic at first. He even helped my mother when she was ill and bought her a condo when we decided to move in together. Mom was thrilled that I was not only with someone from a societal class, but he wasn’t a hybrid. He was so kind, respectful, attentive, but that changed. At first, I thought it was me. I didn’t make dinner on time. I was being flirty with the waiter. I dressed improperly for the occasion.”

“It started with underhanded comments and backward compliments. It wasn’t long before it turned into leaving bruises from harsh grips to busted lips from getting slapped and the occasional twisted ankle from him pushing me out of his way.”

“I was with him for almost ten years because I thought he loved me. Why would anyone who didn’t love me buy me gifts and sleep with me if they didn’t love me? Right?”

You wipe the tears that start falling, only to have Namjoon hand you a handkerchief, “oh thank you.”

“I am sure you saw in the medical portion of the contract that I had a miscarriage, right?” you question, turning to face him.

Not trusting his words, Namjoon only nods in confirmation. His Alpha is eerily quiet now, waiting for your following words.

“I had found out that I was pregnant. Seven weeks along. I was so happy because it would explain why I constantly felt exhausted and nauseous. I just knew that this news of a baby would make Eric elated and then we could get married and he would treat me better because I was carrying his baby.”

By this point, your lip is trembling, your breath is stuttering, and your skin is hot from the turmoil of emotions, but you knew Namjoon had to know, not only because of the contract but because of his pack. He needed to know that you had so much more baggage than what the contract said.

They all needed to know that you were broken and worthless.

“So I made his favorite dinner, wore his favorite pink dress, and waited for him to return home from work. I waited… and waited… and waited but ended up falling asleep at the dining room table before he got home.”

“He finally came home late that night, almost 2 am, and yelled at me for wasting food. He was slightly buzzed and had gone out with the boys. I of course apologized but told him that I had something special to share.”

“So I told him,” looking down at my nails, my throat so tight it is almost impossible to speak, I try to continue, “He wasn’t happy. He punched me for the first time that night. Right in the stomach. Then he grabbed my purse, took me by my hair to the stairwell, and pushed me down it.”

“The whole time, he was screaming at me about how ugly I was, how fat I was, how worthless and pathetic I was. He threw me my purse and told me to get rid of the devil’s pawn that I was carrying.”

“I ran and ran. I don’t remember calling Evie. I don’t know how she found me and got me to the hospital. But she did. I ended up with two fractured ribs, an ankle sprain, and a miscarriage.”

Next thing you know, Namjoon is pulling you into a hug. His large form engulfs you in leather and vanilla scents, a soft growl rumbling in his chest, and he just holds you like you will fall apart if he lets go.

“It broke me,” you mumble into his chest. “I moved into my flat, brought Derek into the pack, and took time healing.”

Pushing slightly on his waist, Namjoon slowly releases his hold. Looking at you, you can see his eyes hold pain and anger for what you have gone through, but there is something else. It isn’t pity. It almost looks like awe.

“Namjoon, I haven’t been with anyone since,” you say, hoping he understands what you mean.

Rubbing his hands up and down your arms, you see the thought process: “That is… he caused… skinship. This is why you are hesitant about skinship outside your family pack. The one person you allowed to be close to you with skinship destroyed the meaning and true purpose behind it.”

“Angel. Y/n. I don’t mean to be rude, but he is an asshole. He is worse than but, but,” growl. “I don’t want to rant. Thank you for telling me all of this. I can see why you have reacted to the pack as you have so far.”

Namjoon takes a moment to look at the now-set sun and the night skyline before continuing.

“First off, Angel, you are not broken; you are beautiful. Bangtan is so lucky to have such a strong and fierce woman to be with. Secondly, there is nothing wrong with not being with anyone else after going through what you have been through and we are not going to force you to do anything that you are not comfortable with.”

“But the contract said..” you start, but Namjoon cuts you off.

“I know what the contract says, and we are sticking to it. You don’t have to be the world’s best at skinship. Skinship takes time, trust, comfort, and connections. Omegas are naturally prone to want skinship, Betas see it as a way to regulate the pack but Alphas do it out of desire and want.”

“Yoongi-hyung wants to be your safe space, Jungkook-ah desires to be your happy place, and the rest of us are right there with them. We weren’t lying when we told you that you are special to us, but we just need you to see if we are special to you as well. In time.”

Taking in a deep breath, you shudder as you look him in the eyes. “Derek told me to heal and see where this all goes before he left the meeting yesterday. I know now that he was talking about more than just my wrist.”

“And are you okay with that?”

“I…I think I am.” Your statement draws a stunning smile from the wolf hybrid, “but. But… it’s still going to take time. I mean just today Jungkook and Taehyung barely kissed and I felt like I was watching a private moment.”

“It was a private moment but it was a private moment they wanted to share with you, Angel,” says Namjoon. “In front of the cameras, Bangtan pack is very playful, like on Run BTS, or stoic, like at Awards. However, behind closed doors… Bangtan is very affectionate. Sometimes, the younger ones can get a bit lustful and I have to shove them behind closed doors because it’s too much for even me.”

You giggle at the thought of locking the trio in a closet or “Have you ever tried a bucket of ice water?”

That pulls a hearty, honest laugh out of the Prime Alpha, “That would be very funny, but no, we haven’t. Jinnie-hyung would hate getting the packhouse wet like that.”

Taking your hands with seriousness on his face, Namjoon says, “Y/n, I will let the rest of the guys know what you told me. I will do my best to ensure that none of them hunt down this Eric person.”

“But I want you to be ready for them to comfort you, to want to hold you, to show you what skinship is supposed to mean. Also, be aware that if we don’t want you involved in our private moments, as you call them, we wouldn’t do them while you are there.”

You smile softly, and something inside you vibrates with almost excitement about being able to feel all of these things again, even though it still scares you a bit. “Well, you don’t have to worry about Eric. Evie and Derek, even before he was a pack member, had been collecting documentation and evidence of Eric’s abuse, and now he is in jail. He isn’t getting out because there were others before me.”

Stepping away from him, you glance at the sparkling city below. “Even though this chapter of my life started with a minor disaster, I think it will be a journey worth taking.”

“And you have seven men to take it with you, even step of the way,” Namjoon says, stepping up behind you and placing his hands on your shoulders, observing the sights below.

You learned more about Namjoon's family pack, his underground rapping start in the music world, and some funny stories about their first few years as BTS before they became famous.

By the time you had to leave for the Gala, any and all nerves about being around Namjoon had vanished. He was super intelligent, caring, and thoughtful.

You just felt calm around him.

He offered you his arm as you walked back to the car, which you were grateful for since it had turned chilly with the night sky.

“Angel, I have something for you,” Namjoon says as he points to a purple and white bag one of the guards at the trail entrance holds.

He reaches inside and pulls out a lovely satin and lace bundle. Shaking it out, you see that it is a cloak!

You reach out to take it from him only to get it pulled away, and Namjoon wraps it around your back with a flourish.

“I had this made for you after I heard how well your date with Jin-hyung went. I wanted you to join me tonight, and I knew what I would be wearing, so I wanted us to match.”

He continues talking as he ties the cloak in place, “It’s made of thicker satin around the shoulders because I heard you get cold quickly, and the lace is made in the design of our Smeraldo flower which symbolizes love and hope.”

Wrapping yourself tighter in the folds of the cape, you can’t help but feel like the material is hugging you back. “It's lovely, Namjoon. Thank you so much.”

“It also has a hood, but I don’t want to ruin your hair.”

After driving to a preparation area, you meet with Bethany Ann, Cindy, and Kat. All three rush to fix your make-up and playfully scold Namjoon for making you cry.

When you try to explain that you were the reason for crying, they still playfully scold Namjoon for allowing you to discuss matters that made you cry.

They also do a bit of makeup on Namjoon, transforming him from handsome to devastating. Yeah, you won't survive them all in makeup and suits.

Nope.

After adding a purple pocket square, amethyst cufflinks, and button covers (you didn’t know that was a thing) to Namjoon's look to match you more, Bethany Ann deems you ready for the Red Carpet.

You are escorted to a different car with extremely heavily tinted windows. Jen is still your driver but is now in an all-black pantsuit with purple and white satin accents.

You guess it is a BTS image thing to be all matchy-matchy.

The drive to the Gala is relatively short but still long enough for your nerves to try to kick in.

Namjoon is holding your hand while scrolling on his phone, “Well, it looks like the news broke about you being our new playmate.”

You reactively squeeze his hand tighter.

“It seems like many are supportive of it because we are on tour, and they hope you can comfort us,” he smiles down at you with moon eyes. “Army already loves you and after tonight so will everyone else.”

The car stops, and you can see the flashing lights through the tinted windows. Both of you take a few deep breaths.

“Ready?” he asks. With your nod, he knocks on the window, and Jen opens the door.

The next eternity is spent getting blinded by flashing lights and being asked an excessive number of questions that you can barely hear. Namjoon, thankfully, noticed your anxiety. Bending to whisper in your ear, “Don’t worry about answering these questions, just ignore them.”

Well, you thought before that you were getting blinded and bombarded… now it was 100 times more than that just because of the whispering.

Finally, you go to areas where panels and cameras are set up. You notice a few Hollywood Stars, like Dakota Johnson from 50 Shades of Grey, Lil Nas X, who stopped to say hello to Namjoon, and even Kate Capshaw with Steven Speilberg.

You had lived in Los Angeles long enough to conduct yourself properly around the Hollywood Stars and not embarrass yourself or the name of BTS.

Soon, it was time for the interviews. Thankfully, most of the questions were geared toward Namjoon. The random few that were asked of you could be answered simply. Some interviewers made you laugh, while others were more serious, and Namjoon would step in and take over if they got too pushy or personal.

You were concentrating on the cameras and the questions so much that you missed how Namjoon’s attention was on you any time you spoke up. His pride in your strength to not waver or fumble your words was amazing.

You were perfect.

You were his angel.

The eternity you felt in the Red Carpet turned out to only be about 45 minutes.

“Well, that went smoother than what I thought. It’s not so bad and kinda easy now that I look back on it,” you comment once inside the Gala.

However, the groan and the headbutt on your shoulder contradicted your feelings, “Namjoon? Are you okay?”

Holding on to your shoulders with his nose at the nape of your neck, Namjoon breathes in your sweet pea scent laced with god knows how many emotions. His Alpha is back to clawing his way forward, wanting to get your scent to stabilize.

“Namjoon?”

“Hello, is everything okay?” A woman’s voice asks. Looking up, you see it is none other than Jennie from BlackPink.

“안녕하세요, Jennie-ssi. Umm.. I think everything is okay but umm,” you look over your shoulder as best as possible, only to be met with a deep growl. “Okay, maybe everything is not okay.”

“Your Y/n, right? The new Playmate for Bangtan pack?”

“Yes, I am. My word travels fast,” you smile and attempt to bow in greeting again to be growled at by the Prime Alpha at your neck.

“Miss Y/n, I don’t know if you know this, but I am a Siamese Hybrid and your Alpha is not happy with your unsettled scent… I think,” she states with a look of concern.

“Oh! Well, I don’t have a good handle on my scent. Umm.. Do you know if they have hybrid rooms for situations like this?”

“Yes! They do… umm, hold on,” she says as she walks over to another man, and they talk in rapid Korean.

Soon, they both return to where you are, but now Namjoon has decided to band his arm around your waist, keeping you closer than before.

“Hello, I am Lee Jung Jae, human, but I know where the rooms are. Please come with us. We already told Jennie-ah’s manager to let Namjoon-ah manager know where you two are going,” the man says.

Following them down the hall and around a corner, you see a few rooms labeled “Hybrid only.”

“Oh, 감사합니다 선생님! Thank you for all your help,” you smile, hoping they will excuse you for not bowing.

Jennie holds the door open for you, “I haven’t seen him act like this since Jungkook-ah joined the pack. It’s a good thing, you don’t have anything to worry about. Just take 5-10 minutes to relax and everything will be fine.”

Nodding in understanding, you shuffle the two of you into the dimly lit room. There is a desk with a chair and a small couch. Couch it is.

“Alpha? Alpha, can we sit down, please?” you ask, moving toward the couch.

You feel Namjoon move his head, hoping he is looking around the room. When he still doesn’t verbally respond, you try another tactic.

“Alpha, my feet are hurting. Can we please sit together on the couch?”

That works.

Before you finish the sentence, Namjoon pulls you to the couch. Taking a seat, he grabs at your hips and sits you down on his lap. His arms curl around you, and his eyes, now a lovely forest green, observe your expressions.

“Hello, Alpha Joon. Are you going to be alright?” you ask while casting your eyes downward. You remembered something about eye contact and wolves not being an intelligent thing to do.

“Your scent is everywhere,” Alpha Joon replies, which shocks you since it's not the stilted speech you have heard from Alpha Yoon and Alpha Chim.

“Oh, well, yes. I suppose it is because this is a new experience for me,” you smile as you remember the reassuring touches from Namjoon during the whole thing. “Alpha was very helpful in keeping me safe and not panicking. Thank you for your attention Alpha Joon.”

The compliment pulls a smile from the wolf hybrid, “It’s my job as Prime Alpha. Need to calm your scent. Sweet pea. Angel’s sweet pea.”

Adjusting how you sit on his lap, Alpha Joon gips on tighter, but you smile and move a little bit more, allowing you to lean against the arm of the couch while still leaning on his chest.

“I should be fine soon, Alpha Joon. I actually enjoyed walking the carpet with you.”

“Too many were watching you. Lots of people were flirting with you and with what you shared earlier… I guess my Alpha was just in protection mode or something,” he grumbles, resting his head on yours.

“Oh, you are silly, Alpha. They are just doing their jobs. You saved me when it got uncomfortable, but everything is fine now. We just get to enjoy dancing and stuff now.”

The room is silent when you feel a large puff of air on your head, “Sorry about that, Angel. My Alpha has been trying to front since the observatory. I guess your mixture of emotions was too much,” the wolf hybrid says.

You tilt your head to see his eyes return to their darker brown color, “No worries, Namjoon. I am just glad that Jennie-ssi and Jung Jae-ssi were around to help find this room,” you smile at him, still looking between his eyes. “Your Alpha’s eyes are pretty, by the way.”

“Thank you. The green is a rare color but the pack says it makes sense because it takes a rare breed to be a Prime Alpha.”

“I would agree with them. Your Alpha also has better speech than the others so far.”

“Ah yes, that is also part of why I am the Prime Alpha. It allows for me to be understood in order to protect my pack.”

“Make sense. Now, do you think you are ready to head back out? I am sure Manager Sejin is worried by now.”

“I am, if you are or we could just go home… if you wanted to?”

“I would like to stay. I haven’t been to a Gala with a dance floor in a while and it looks like fun.”

Now that you didn’t have a leeched on Alpha, walking inside the venue was like walking into a fairytale. Beautiful works of art were tastefully displayed everywhere you looked.

Those attending looked like they walked off the catwalk from New York or Milan’s fashion week. Quietly, you thank whatever powers that be granted you the talented team to make you look like you might be able to fit in with this elegant crowd.

Before taking a seat, you were able to spot Jennie and Jung Jae, give them a quick thumbs up, and say thank you again for all their help.

The evening's events started with Michal Govan and Eva Chow’s speeches about LACMA and why we were all here. They were followed by tributes to Amy Sherald, Kehinde Wiley, and even Steven Speilberg. A short film by someone you had never heard of but now were interested in was shown.

Next came the dinner.

Shit dinner!

How would you avoid being rude and eat the food without knowing what was in it? Gourmet meals at these high-flaunting Shindigz never look like what they are made of.

As if sensing your internal panic, Namjoon squeezes his hand over yours. You glance up at him, your concern showing in your eyes, but before you can say anything, he leans over and says, “Are you worried about the meal?”

Nodding you, lick your lips, trying to figure out how to explain to Namjoon how you could… could… maybe hide in that room again til dinner was over?

Watching your tongue wet your lip, Namjoon smiles at the nervous habit you share with a particular mate. “It’s okay, angel. The seats are assigned, and they know your restrictions.”

Instant relief comes from his words. You should have known. They have told you many times that they will take care of you. He has told you that he will take care of you.

Maybe it’s time to start believing them.

Smiling brightly at the Prime Alpha, you turn over your hand and lock your fingers with his. You hope this conveys gratitude for the precautions and attentiveness during such a grand event.

Namjoon's eyes widen at your movement, now focused on your intertwined hands. His mate is holding his hand, not out of need but because his new mate wants to.

At that point, a strong wave of vanilla comes over the Prime Alpha, the mate bond. It’s forming between the two of you. He can feel the pull now. He didn’t destroy the bond before it got a chance to start with his proposition.

He may be known as the God of Destruction; however, when it comes to his mates and you, he will never allow any breaks.

The rest of the program was relatively interesting but boring. There were performances and more tributes, but once that was over… the party was on!

A famous DJ took over for the small, formal orchestra-like band that had been playing in the background. He played music from all around the world.

Namjoon danced with you as best he could. That man almost had two left feet, which caused you to laugh never-endingly.

“How?!? Namjoon! How can you be so bad at dancing?”

“I can dance! I have only stepped on you twice and that was because you were doing some kinda fancy thing that I hadn’t seen,” he huffed but still danced along with you until you abruptly stopped in your tracks.

“Hey, you almost got stepped on agai…” Namjoon stops talking and takes in your wide eyes and blushing(?) face.

You aren’t looking at him; you are looking past him. Turning around to see what you are looking at, he sees nothing but other guests. Looking back at you again, he notes that you are watching something or someone moving. Trying to track what you see, it hits him… Lee Min Ho. You are watching Lee Min Ho.

Stepping behind you, placing his hands on your hips, Namjoon leans into your ear, “Should I be jealous that your eyes are on another man? Not only that but Tae-ah’s good friend Lee Min Ho?”

You snap your attention back to Namjoon, “Friends? You know Mr. Lee? Wait… jealous?”

Chuckling to himself, Namjoon looks back at the famous Korean Actor and whistles, catching his attention. A smile blooms on Min Ho’s face at seeing Namjoon, and heads towards the two of you.

“Namjooooonnn! Why did you do that?” you harshing whisper through your own toothy smile.

Whispering in your ear again, “I thought you would want to say hi to someone you clearly know of.”

“Min Ho-hyung! I didn’t know you were going to be here tonight. It’s good to see you. How is the pack search going?” Namjoon greets the stunning actor with a hearty handshake-guy hug thing.

You move out of the way, and your brain is awed to see him up close. You can handle Hollywood stars because they are everywhere, but foreign stars… that is a whole different thing because they don’t come here often.

You accidentally watched him film a little for his show The Inheritors back in 2012 or something. That is when you first noticed him, but since most of his stuff was on streaming channels you had to pay for, you didn’t watch many things until recently.

Namjoon noticed your movements but continued to speak with his friend to let you relax or fangirl out.

“Joon-ah, may I ask who this lovely creature is?” Min Ho asks, turning his attention to you.

With a prideful smile, Namjoon introduces you, “This angel, is Y/n. She has graced me as my date for the Gala tonight.”

Attempting your best to maintain professionalism, you smile and respectfully bow, “만나서 반갑습니다, 선생님.”

“Oh, you speak Korean?” Min Ho says with a shock, “Joon-ah you did find a gem for tonight. Tell me, Y/n, how does it feel to dance the night away with this clumsy wolf?”

“Yah! I am not that bad,” exclaims Namjoon.

You giggle out, “It’s not bad. He keeps shying away from the classic dances with too much footwork but then again I think my feet are grateful for that.”

“I am not shying away from classical dances. I just don’t know much about ballroom forms. Besides, the band is there to give the DJ and guests breaks from dancing like we are now. That’s all,” Namjoon defends himself.

“Guest breaks? And here I thought I was the oldest one,” you tease.

“You ballroom dance, Y/n?” asks Min Ho.

Looking at the actor, you can’t tell if he is asking because he doesn’t think someone of your size can ballroom dance, or he is honestly curious.

“Yes, Mr. Lee. I have been trained in multiple ballroom dance techniques, but I prefer to compete in either a classic Waltz, Salsa, or Tango. " Your face sets into a defensive mask. “I wouldn’t expect anyone to guess that. Besides, it's not like those dances are very popular anymore.”

A look you are not sure of what it means flows over his face. “Joon-ah, you know it is rude to deny a lady her request to dance. Since you won’t be joining her, I will,” he says, stepping closer to you. He bows.

“Miss Y/n, I would very much like to have this dance with you,” he asks.

You stand there shocked, your mind trying to grapple with the fact that A)Lee Min Ho just asked you to dance, B)Namjoon is right there, and C) LEE MIN HO just asked you to DANCE!

Before you can accept or deny the request, the band starts up with a piece you recognize as Underground Tango by Goran Bregovic. The actor takes your hand, pulling you to the center of the floor.

“Mr. Lee. Mr. Lee, I..” you try to say before he pulls you into the classic Tango hold.

Bending down to your ear, he says, “Namjoon is a little slow when it comes to taking what he wants. Dance with me but watch him. Let’s see how long it takes before your Alpha fronts.”

You glance at Namjoon and see that he is, of course, watching you. You're his date, so why wouldn’t he?

“Shall we?” Min Ho asks before he takes the first step into the dance.

Your eyes automatically return to Min Ho’s, and your body falls into the dance like it was meant to be there.

The Tango is an intimate dance with constant body contact and wordless communication between the dancers. It requires concentration to perform well, and at this highly publicized Gala, you don’t want to look like a fool.

It was surprisingly easy to follow Min Ho’s lead. He kept his hands in proper and respectful placements, showed respect with his movements, and played up the sensuality of it all with his facial expressions.

You maintained proper eye contact with Min Ho and followed the energy of the dance by adding flourishes to your movements and the flicks of your dress. Pretty soon, it felt like old times: just you and your dance partner on the floor, with the music acting as your lifeblood.

In one turn, Min Ho brought you back into his hold but placed your back in his front, which, in the proper hold, pressed the two of you together. That’s when you hear a soft chuckle.

Glancing up at Min Ho, he tilts his head toward the audience, causing you to follow his gaze. You would have frozen in place if it hadn’t been for the years of training and Min Ho’s stronghold on your body.

No longer was Namjoon standing and watching you dance with his friend – It was Alpha Joon.

The forest green eyes are watching you like a predator watches his prey. Flicking all over your body, they sear heat into your skin as they trace all your contact points with the actor.

“If I could wager anything, I would think your Alpha doesn’t like you being touched by me right now. Possessive much?” Min Ho says quietly. “Let’s finish this with a show.”

Min Ho spins you around without warning and takes you into a dip. As he dips deeper, you cling to the actor, afraid to be dropped. Trailing his nose along your neck to your shoulder. His hand is securing your lifted leg through the slit at his hip.

As the music dies, he pulls you up and stands you nose to nose. Your heart is pounding, not because Lee Min Ho looks like he will kiss you. No no. It’s because Lee Min Ho looks like he is going to kiss you, and Alpha Joon is somewhere seeing the same thing.

A coy smile plays on his lips as he glances behind you, “I have a feeling you may be going home early, but still, enjoy the rest of your night, Y/n.”

Next thing you know, strong hands grip your waist, and a low growl rumbles through you. Your breath is stolen, and your body is not only thrumming from the dance but now from the Alpha at your back.

Min Ho steps back, looking Namjoon in the eyes. He says, “Hello, Alpha Joon. Thank you for granting me the opportunity to dance with your date; she was divine.”

“Mine,” a deep, gravelly voice comes from the wolf Hybrid.

“Is she?” asks Min Ho, his eyes flashing yellowish. “My Alpha thinks she is unmarked.”

“Your Alpha? You’re a hybrid?” You are shocked to hear this as you really take in the man before you, but you do not see any hybrid features.

“Alpha Bobcat hybrid. You didn’t think I was this graceful by being just any human, did you? Couldn’t you feel my athletic but lithe build while we were dancing so closely?”

Min Ho’s eyes wander up and down your form. A look of something passes over his face when Namjoon’s grip tightens, and the growl grows louder. Putting his hands up, Min Ho steps back farther.

“Alpha Joon, I don’t want to push or pry. I only meant to allow your date a moment of fun. I will respect your claim on her… for now,” the actor says, his face turning into a mask of friendliness that does not meet his eyes.

Without looking at you, he says, “ Y/n, please tell Tae-ah he needs to give me a call. It was an honor to dance with you this evening.”

With that, he turns and disappears into the crowd. However, you want to disappear into the crowd but cannot because you have a Prime Alpha at your back with a death grip.

Glancing around, you are at least relieved to see that it is mainly hybrids watching with worried looks on their faces, but no one has responded or reacted like anything is out of the ordinary.

This may be something normal for Alphas.

Running through all the things you could do next to get away from the dance floor, you think more about the fact that you didn’t know Min Ho was a hybrid and Namjoon is unhappy.

Instinctively, you should be scared, and you are… right?

Or are you excited?

It’s just adrenaline. That’s what it is; you attempt to convince yourself until you shift your weight and feel the so very telling dampness between your legs.

Why?

Why are you, now of all times, turned on?

It isn’t from the dancing; you would have noticed that with all the movements. Here you go again, getting turned on by a mated man: his possessiveness, his Alphaness, the body-consuming growls.

“Sweet pea, bergamot, and sugar,” Alpha Joon says as he takes a deep breath. “Min Ho left none. Good. Mine.”

“Alpha Joon, umm, should you be fronting right now at the Gala?” you ask softly.

“Fine, many hybrids are here,” he responds, rubbing his wrists along your sides and sending out calming scents to you. “Bergamot means scared. Nothing to scare from, my Angel.”

“Can we talk about this somewhere else, please?” you ask. Stepping out of his hold and quickly facing him. “Scenting in public won’t look good for your pack, Prime Alpha.”

His forest green eyes narrow at you. The look is calculating. Dropping his hands to his sides, the Alpha hybrid steps forward and cautiously asks, “Scenting is accepted, but not here?”

You smile at his tone and respond, “Yes, Alpha Joon. You may scent me, but please remember I am still getting used to this.”

Reaching for his hand, you step into his personal space, “Alpha Joon, can we head home now? You can scent me in the car, if you’d like.”

His green eyes shine like emeralds, “I’d be honored, let’s go home.”

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