#fitness center in alpha

[kennys-parka-jacket]

Always hilarious when people complain about fanon!craig being overly macho while fanon!tweek is the twinkiest twink that has ever twinked. My guy, they were literally assigned seme and uke roles in canon. What did you expect

[kisakis-boyfriend]

Alpha male reader with omaga mikey and they are with each other and Mikey heat comes Unexpectedly ♦️

Pairings: Mikey x male reader

Warnings: Alpha male!reader, dom/top!reader, sub/bottom/omega!Mikey, lots of pet names, clingy sex, public sex, biting, heat, knotting, brief mention of pregnancy, reader is called "sir + master"

It's a crisp, spring day and you are a humble alpha taking his little omega boyfriend out to the park. As usual, Mikey's first move is to find the food stalls and buy a snack to eat while you take a stroll. Something sweet, obviously. Because what's a daytime park date without a little sugar?

If you're lucky he might even share a bite with you (!!!!!!) without you asking! Your lips linger around Mikey's fingers for just a few seconds longer than they need to, and the omega feels a flush of warmth hit his body from the inside. He shrugs it off though, and your date continues over to a bench by the water.

“A lot of ducks here today, huh?” you comment. Eyeing the feathered creatures as a dozen or so glide along the water's surface.

Mikey looks at you with a raised eyebrow, “I didn't think anyone seemed that rude… that one kid even smiled as we passed them.”

You returned his puzzled expression with one of your own, until it clicked, and you snorted as you corrected him. “Ducks, Mikey,” pointing towards the water in front of you. “not dicks. You've got a dirty little mind today, dont'cha?”

“What do you mean?! That one mistake doesn't make me some pervert, like you think I am!” Mikey pouted, crossing his arms over his chest and swiveling away from you.

Your boyfriend's childish nature is adorable sometimes (and annoying at others…) — huffing while he avoids eye contact, even turning his body away from you so he can pretend to be mad. Such a cutie~

“Uh-huh, sure.” you said sarcastically. “Don't think I didn't see the look in your eyes when I "accidentally" sucked on your fingers earlier. Your mind went somewhere very naughty, and we both know it~” Your teasing turned the tips of Mikey's ears red in an instant, filling his mind with many ideas. In that moment, all the blood in his body rushed downward, causing his soft shaft to slowly swell and rise—creating a small bulge in the front of his pants.

As you turn your attention back to the natural world surrounding you, a soft whine makes your ear twitch. You glance over and notice the deep red taking over Mikey's cheeks and nose, and the way his fingers dig into the wood of the bench you're sitting on. “M-Mikey…?”

The utterance of his name sends another jolt straight to his cock, filling him with an unbearable heat that spreads to every last corner of his body. He's wheezing now, mouth open as ragged breaths come out and his chest heaves. You stare at the sudden new state of your partner in shock — is he getting a fever?! Is this spot too sunny?!

“Hey, babe, are you– are you alright?” you touch the back of your hand against his forehead, and it almost feels like Mikey got a terrible sunburn. “You're burning up! Uuuhh… should we move somewhere with shade?!”

“Lower… touch me lower pleeeaasee~ ” he whines. His thighs tense, rubbing together a bit as he tries not to let a glob of precum spill from his dick. “Please, sir… I need it– mMFhjkD–!! I need Master's touch…”

Wow. Ok, this is embarrassing! As your eyes scan your immediate surroundings, you find that most of the people are over towards the center of the park, or by the entrance. There are still a few people nearby though, and they could probably see or hear you if you do anything right here–

“Mikey, wh– are you…?” you're cut off by Mikey grabbing your wrist and forcing your hand into his pants, unzipping them so that you can fit your whole hand down there. His tiny cock has swelled so much, and the insides of his clothes are soaked already! There's a wet mess sliding down his thighs and pooling underneath his ass.

While you try not to alert any other park-goers, you discreetly palm your boyfriend underneath his clothes, rubbing at his entrance and nearly easing a finger in there. This alone causes your balls to tighten, and you sense something a bit more primal bubbling towards the surface as Mikey whimpers and thrusts his hips wildly — like an animal in heat.

“Mikey, why didn't you tell me your heat was coming on? We could have stayed home — taken care of this properly. The park could've waited.”

“I-I didn't– gnngh-! I didn't kn-know… I swear!” he stammers between noises of ecstasy. “OoOOohh mm~ yeah~ I didn't feel any-thiiing aaAhhH!! A-anything until after we got here… hnngh…” you have to quickly cover your boyfriend's mouth, lest he moan any louder and draw someone's attention.

Well, now that you're less concerned about his health, and you know why Mikey is red and a million degrees, now you have to make a quick decision — how are you going to take care of this? You could try to take him back home, where you'd have all the privacy possible to fuck him silly until this heat subsides. But, looking at the state your boyfriend is currently in, you don't see that working out very well. He's too far into this to walk that far… The park bathrooms aren't private enough, plus they're not all that clean. You guess…

“Pl-please please please please– it huuuurts…” Mikey cries, prying your hand away from his lips and trying to get both of your hands down his pants.

“No — zip these back up, quickly–”

“NONONONONO PLEASE—I'LL DO ANYTHING FOR YOU, MASTER, PLEASE–!!!” Mikey screams, clinging onto your arm like a child would to their parents when they don't want them to leave.

You slap a hand over Mikey's mouth again, nearly flying off of the bench to shush him. “SHH! Be quiet! I'm GOING to, but we can't do it right here! It's bad enough that someone probably saw us already… we're in public, Mikey! We can't just do it in front of an audience!”

Another pitiful whine reverberates into your palm, and the blond's black eyes well with tears as he reluctantly zips up his pants, feeling lonely without your hand on him.

“Get up, hold on to me if you need to.”

Mikey stumbles as you begin walking somewhere, wrapping his arms around your elbow and nuzzling his nose into the exposed skin. That little inhale of your scent has him clenching his legs together for a moment as a dribble of precum leaks out of his tip.

That whole display only causes your hormones to kick in further, bringing an uncomfortable wave of heat to your body now. It's all you can do to lead Mikey along until you come to a rather large hedge on the outer edge of the park, barely covered by a few trees and a fence on one side.

“Why are we… over here?” your little omega asks.

Before you answer, you scoop him up and lay him down on the grass. “Fixing our little "problem"—fuckin'… nngh-” you growl impatiently, “Look at what you did to me, honey…” the very obvious dick-shaped bulge in your pants made Mikey drool. His hands dig into the grass and dirt below him, and his legs spread instinctually.

“That's a good boy, but you gotta take your clothes off first, yeah?” you remind him. In a flash, your boyfriend has his pants and underwear off, only draped around one ankle. At the same time, you unzip yours and pull them down just enough to free your aching, throbbing cock.

“Ready for me?” Mikey nods vigorously, and you quickly line up your cock, pushing against his entrance with a bit of resistance. The slick coating his insides and sliding down his inner thighs helps greatly, though it is still a tight fit. Not that you're complaining, exactly — that tightness feels damn good for both of you.

The little omega opens his mouth to moan—or maybe scream—but not a sound comes out. Instead, his eyes simply glaze over while you bottom out in one thrust. “OoOOohH fuck-! Tight… so fuckin' tight for me…”

Instincts take over as you start humping Mikey's wet hole, already overwhelmed by having his soft, warm insides hug your cock. Primal as this all is, you also desperately cling to your boyfriend—overtaken by a primal love for him too. One hand combs through his hair, pushing it out of his face, while the other slides to the small of his back. “Mhm~ You feel so gooood, baby- ah! ah! ah! Fu-uck y-yeah–!” you drawl to the rhythm of your thrusts. Plowing Mikey's ass so hard that it kind of hurts your hips too.

The omega wraps his arms around the back of your neck, pulling your face closer until your lips brush against his skin. You nibble on his earlobe, and Mikey lets out a cute whimper as his eyes squeeze shut in embarrassment. Nibbling turns to nipping at his neck, which then turns into sucking on the tender flesh — all while the blond moans louder than he probably should.

“Fuck! I'm gonna- hnngh–!!” Before you can even finish your sentence, a flood of thick, creamy cum fills up Mikey's hole. Painting his insides white as you bite down on his shoulder to stay quiet.

“M-more! Moremoremore~! Need… Alpha's cum~💛” his voice fades towards the end, and his small body slumps all at once as the last drops of cum spill into his unprotected hole.

You're barely able to hold yourself up, but you try to, so you don't crush your precious omega with your weight. Though your vision is spotty, you can still appreciate the sight of your darling boyfriend in his blissful state. You assume he's half unconscious already; until you start pulling out and Mikey perks up, whining out “Noooo… isss'not enough yet… need master's cock~”

A knot is already formed at the base of your shaft, and you're honestly not any softer even though you pumped a bucket load of semen into him. You certainly can't walk home like this…

“Yeah? Is this what you're needing, honey?” you ask, bringing one of Mikey's hands to the knot and letting him feel it. He gropes it, strokes it, and begs for you to put it back inside in such a loving voice. It's enough to make you feel bad about even thinking of stopping here.

“Anything for my baby boy~ Haah… wanna push it in yourself?” Mikey nods tiredly, guiding the rest of your dick back into his hole. Once the knot reaches his entrance, he holds onto your hips, and you begin thrusting again. “A little harder—here, I'll help ya.” you take Mikey's waist in your hands and pull him towards you as you thrust in.

The speed of your thrusts picks back up, and with enough effort from both of you, your knot eventually squeezes past his fucked out rim. “Oh god-! It's in! Fffuuck, Mikey… s'tighter than before-!!” As your bulky cock stretches his ass, you can already feel another orgasm coming.

Mikey pulls you down by the neck again, clinging to you—his lifeline, his sunshine, his stars, his galaxy, his entire world—and you return the embrace. His small body takes everything you have to offer as you greedily hump him, creating just enough friction to unload another round of cum into his womb. “Shit! Cumming! Mmhm, gonna breed you, Mikey~ Gonna breed my sweet omega–!!”

“Breed me! Please… mMMhgNm…” his muffled cries turn into whimpers as you up the ante with your breeding talk–

“Oh fuck-! Gonna knock you up, yeah? Fill your little tummy with kids?” between every powerful bump against Mikey's body, you affirm his deep-rooted desires. “You'll be a daddy after I'm finished with ya, sweetheart~”

—

You're not sure how many minutes pass, but what you are sure of is the fact that your knot hasn't gone away yet… it's still swollen, tethering you and your omega together and preventing you from leaving your hiding spot.

Mikey is all but passed out under you, and it's still early enough in the day — it's not like you need to rush out of the park, sooooo… you guess you're just going to lay here until you can safely pull out.

In the meantime, what's the harm in admiring your boyfriend while he naps? After all, his soft features look even prettier after you had them twisting in pleasure~

[onelittlespiral]

Attention: Health and Safety Alert

Dear Students, Faculty, and Staff,

It has come to our attention that a serious outbreak of a virus illness has been seriously harming our campus community. We take this public health threat very seriously and want you all to be aware and alert so that you can stay safe.

As a matter of transparency, we want to be clear on the origin of this virus. The Frontal Recognizance Transmutation Arenavirus 24 (often called just arena or FRT-24) has been a known threat for some time, with clear symptoms from infected individuals. A research lab on campus was known to have been studying its effects. This particular strain, the alpha variant, was of particular interest, so when a sample went missing, we exhausted campus resources to locate it. We were unable to and are now deeply sorry to our campus community. We take full responsibility for the current outbreak.

FRT-24 is highly contagious, so it is important to know the immediate signs. Look for:

Sudden headaches or migraines

Dizziness or loss of vision

Fevers and chills, especially paired with heavy perspiration

Loss of cognitive functions

Rapid muscle swelling

If you are infected, symptoms may take up to three days to develop, and you may still be a vector in this time. As the disease takes hold, you may notice a change in mood, as a lack of interest in usual activities. Instead, the disease drives the infected towards spreading. Common hubs seem to be gyms, parties, and social gatherings. We have also noticed an uptick in fraternity membership this year, a possible sign of disease spread.

Know the signs in yourself or others, as often the infected will not show traditional signs of ailment. This student has given us permission to share his story:

This young man was a healthy Junior just a few weeks ago. He was a promising young academic in biochemistry, hoping to one day do research on emergent diseases. Since his experience with FRT-24, his life is forever changed.

The changes are alarming. He has gained over 100 lbs and been unable to focus on his studies. Instead, he was spending hours in the student rec center, consumed by his illness as he worked his body to exhaustion. Since his quarantining, he has been unable to answer any basic questions about his academic career or research project. Instead, he has shown a hallucinated knowledge of a personal training and fitness program. As an early vector, we are aware of at least 10 other students who were infected before his quarantine, and he is being held for further observations on disease progression.

Thankfully we have been able to identify the method of transmission. At this time, it seems bodily fluids are most transmissible method. It seems that this virus enhances the body in this respect. Those infected will often try to spread by any means necessary. They are very good at finding susceptible men, isolating them, and finding ways to expose them directly to their sweat, saliva, and in some cases semen. They will be desperate for any chance to get you alone with them, to join their ranks. Do no be drawn in by promises of muscle, of status, or ease of life. Their brains are no longer their own. They only seek to make you a drone for FRT-24.

While we are still in the early stages of understanding the virus, we would like to acknowledge the valiant work done by Dr. Pulaski and his team of researchers. They have lead the way in this fight, throwing themselves at this dangerous line of work. Without their noble sacrifice, we would be still months from understanding the origins of this outbreak. We have narrowed down the point of origin to a party held a few weeks ago in the PKE frat house. At this time, it is unknown if frat leadership was in any way involved with this outbreak.

Sadly, Dr. Pulaski was found earlier this week a few days after conducting interviews and performing sample retrieval from the PKE house believed to be the epicenter. He was found shirtless, flexing his newly formed muscles in the mirror at the student rec center.

When reached for comment, he only smirked and reported “feeling great, bruh,” a clear sign of decline. We are still uncertain if he has exposed any of his other researchers to the disease.

Remember, you are responsible for yourself and out campus community. If you suspect you or someone you know has been exposed, please report to the Student Health Center immediately for examination. In the mean time, please stay safe everyone. We will continue to keep you updated as we know more

Regards,

Dr. Brendan Host, President

Congrats @occamstfs on 2k followers. I hope you all enjoy a late entry to the party. Go out and check out the other writers under the #occam2000 tag, some great stuff in there. And don't worry, FML: Initiate is coming soon.

[adispit]

The Aftermath

Alpha rival king x alpha m!reader

A mini part 2 of The Crown!

Warnings: dubcon, handjob, possessive Leo

note: yeah this isn’t really a smut centered piece more centered on the story also I didn’t beta read this so if there’s errors yeah 😭

Something was wrong. Your nape ached with a searing intensity, and your fangs felt inexplicably dull. The air around you reeked of something unmistakable—alpha. Jolting awake, your entire body ached with a deep, lingering pain. Wait a minute, this wasn’t your bed. Where were you?! These luxurious sheets were also something you couldn’t afford…even as a royal.

Your entire body reeked of alpha pheromones—clearly not your own. They carried a hint of musky leather and a scent reminiscent of stormy nights. What was even more concerning was the fact that your body responded in this scent—you liked it..! As an alpha! Panic and confusion surged through your mind as blurry afterimages of the previous night flashed through your thoughts in a matter of seconds. You felt your face flush red with humiliation and shame. Right. You had gotten…bitched. Bitched by Leo.

Sunlight streamed through the windows of your bedroom like any other ordinary day. Except it wasn’t. The clear and fresh humiliation seared and burned into your mind, your only remaining pride as an alpha remaining— completely shattered and destroyed. How could you have submitted! To the very man who invaded and conquered your country?! The man who ruthlessly slaughtered your countrymen…the very man who also mercilessly fucked you…on the throne. Embarrassment once again took ahold of you as your sore nape throbbed at the thought of the events of the previous night.

"You done wallowing in pity?" A cold, harsh voice sliced through your thoughts, snapping you back to reality. A slim and lean man stood at the foot of the bed you lay in, holding a clipboard. He emitted no scent and seemed to be a beta. “Who are you?!” you demanded, glaring at him with guarded suspicion.

“Calm down. I’m a private doctor who’s friends with Leo, he called for me to come examine you.” He rolled his eyes in irritation. “He doesn’t even pay me to deal with the bullshit I have to deal with…Anyways, you clearly went through a number. This guy initiated such a forceful bitching on the spot when you were clearly emotionally and mentally stimulated. Now the consequences of that is, due to the traumatic experience which was caused by the sudden change of your secondary gender, your body is in a pseudo-state of an omega. You aren’t really one right now, you still retain your alpha features….” Hearing the doctor ramble on, you blankly stared off into space.

An omega. You were now an omega. Why— “Hey! Are you listening?” He snapped his fingers. “Listen to what I say!” His frustration was evident in his growl. You blinked your eyes apologetically, trying to focus on his words. “As I was saying, you do still have your features as an alpha, those fangs can still mark someone and your cock still has a knot. Well, a rather pitiful one as of now though, I did have to examine you.” He shook his head in what seemed like gratuitous pity.

“However, your body is in a state of transition into an omega right now. You will leak slick and have random pseudo-heats until you have stabilised as an omega. Without the presence of Leo, the alpha who marked you, your body would not survive those heats and it would be fatal. This is also because of the heat you went through after he bit you.” He droned on monotonously. Like a knife through butter, your heart felt as though it was ripped open at the news.

This man was fucking sick. Everyone was fucking sick! Grinding your teeth in fury, you glared at the doctor in a fit of rage. “Okay, don’t shoot the messenger…just trying to do my job. Just have plenty of rest and with your alpha by your side. I’ll prescribe an ointment for that bite. And speak of the devil! I’ll go now.” He helplessly pinched the crease between his eyebrows before striding off. “How’s my wife doing?” A rich, magnetic voice echoed in the chamber as you were met with piercing blue eyes that seemed to engulf you in their entirety.

“Fuck off.” You spat at him with as much venom your hoarse voice could muster. A pitiful attempt that seemed to only make the teasing grin on his face grow bigger. If he hadn’t bitched and fucked you, you would have assumed this man would have been sent by the heavens to save you. “So feisty… love that about you, (Name),” he grinned, his eyes locked on you, seemingly ready to devour you at any moment.

“You’ve heard the man, as your husband and your alpha, I shall assist you through your heats and provide you with all the loving care you could ever need.” With a malice-filled smile, he manhandled you into a hug that seemed to steal your very breath away from you. “Ugh! Don’t- fucking touch me!” You struggled weakly, flailing your arms as he gripped onto you tighter at your resistance. Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through your lower abdomen, causing you to collapse weakly into his arms.

Lightly caressing your cheek, he pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek as he muttered for you to rest, clearly displeased. The rasp of his voice filled your ears as you couldn’t help but press your legs together unconsciously. Your heart pounded in your ears as blood rushed to your cheeks and also your… “Are you hard right now?” A hint of amusement in his voice cut through the heavy silence. “N-no! I’m…” Leaving no room for argument, he lifted up your flimsy gown to the sight of your pathetically erect cock, leaking beads of precum.

Huffing playfully, he palmed at your throbbing dick, earning a soft whine from you. Your eyes were half-lidded and glazed over with lust. Your mouth hung agape, forming words that didn’t exist with a voice you didn’t have in your efforts to comprehend the pleasure you were begrudgingly feeling. You didn’t want this. You didn’t want rough and calloused fingers so delicately brushing over your sensitive tip, making your insides twist and turn at the familiar delicious burn of pleasure.

Your head started to droop, but a sharp squeeze to your cock brought you back in an instant. “Are you enjoying yourself, (Name)?” Leo smiled, full of mirth but also of ill intentions. Slowly, he began to pump your member again, his cruel smile twisting upwards as he heard you let out a strangled moan. Glancing at yourself, you had no choice but admit you were a mess really. Your skin covered with a fine sheen of sweat as you panted laboriously and your hips involuntarily rocking into the warm hold of Leo’s fist.

Grunting disdainfully at the lack of response from you, Leo sighed into the crook of your neck, hot breath brushing against the very bite mark that seemed to burn. “You say you don’t want this though,” his hand crawled achingly slowly up to the desperately sensitive tip. “Maybe I should just leave you be. Just. Let. You. Be.” With each word he punctuated it with a gentle rub of the precum-soaked tip, you nearly found yourself sent over the edge from that alone. You were too close to stop now.

“Please…” A weak plea left your throat. You couldn’t help himself. You knew it was a mistake, but one your useless body was so desperate to make. This ache had to go away. “Please Leo…”Leo grinned victoriously. “Well, since you asked so nicely…” You smelt the air suddenly surge with pheromones. Ah. That soothing smell. Whilst seemingly suffocating in his pheromones, Leo increased the speed of his pumping, making you come undone with a silent scream as the exhaustion overtook you. Slumping down, you felt your taut body sink into his arms before once again passing out. “Fuck.” Leo looked down at the wet stain in his pants and the tent that wouldn’t go away.

A few years ago, under the cover of night, he had ventured out to the same forest clearing where he had once found solace. It was a place he had comforted you in before, though back then, you were both younger. As he arrived, ready to unleash his annoyance on the intruder, he was taken aback to find you huddled, trembling with unshed tears. Your defiant gaze intrigued him, and despite his initial intention to chase you away, he was struck by your vulnerability.

“Hey, you can’t be in… here…” he began, but trailed off when he saw your pitiful form. Struggling with unfamiliar emotions, he attempted to offer comfort, a rare gesture for someone of his royal stature. “You… okay?” he asked awkwardly, furrowing his brows.

“I’m o-okay!” you quickly responded, rubbing your eyes and standing up with a sheepish grin. “S-sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you with my crying…” Your innocent reaction only made him more determined to be gentle, despite his internal conflict. His pheromones, released unconsciously, elicited a low snarl from you, signaling your hostility. The mingling scents of earthy soil and rain from you in the air only highlighted the moment.

“Sorry…” he said, rubbing his head in apology. You merely nodded and hurried away into the distance. Though he had expected never to see you again, fate had other plans. Now that you were back in his life, he was resolved never to let you go again.

note: so yeah that’s it uh Leo had an interest in you and ran w it and he met u to ur very misfortune. Reader isn’t having a really great time overall 😭 but I hope this explains things! Tried my hand at something more story related

Reblogs are appreciated ❤️

[ultram0th]

December 25: Antoine Vaillant

00 │ 01 │ 02 │ 03 │ 04 │ 05 │ 06 │ 07 │ 08 │ 09 │ 10 │ 11 │ 12 │ 13 │ 14 │ 15 │ 16 │ 17 │ 18 │ 19 │ 20 │ 21 │ 22 │ 23 │ 24 │ 25

Bodybuilder Antoine Vaillant’s phone lit up with a text: Merry Christmas! 

Antoine fidgeted relentlessly at his desk, hissing under his breath as he typed up an email that he needed to send to a sponsor. His impressive gym-built biceps would jostle against the obscenely large pectorals that were attached his muscular chest every so often as he struggled to type on his keyboard, making the top-heavy hunk shudder. His trimmed beard did little to cover up the blush that was taking over his face. Speaking of which, the prickles from his jaw scrapping up against the tops of the hairy muscle mounds sent sparks of pleasure throughout him even more, rendering him nearly incapable of typing a single sentence. The dark hairs that covered his pecs only intensified the hypersensitivity, and the sensation of his button-down rubbing up against his hard, nubby nipples should have been enough to have him blow a load in his pants on the spot.

However, despite the near overwhelming pleasure the older bodybuilder was feeling at his desk, his rock hard seven inches refused to give him any release. Instead it throbbed as it was placed tightly against his muscled thighs.

The bodybuilder frowned as he looked in the mirror that was in his office. He took great care of himself and his body. As a professional bodybuilder, Antoine knew the ins and outs of the gym, and it clearly showed. At 6’0’’ and approximately 250 pounds of meaty muscle, he was a beast of a man. Plus, during his offseason, he’d allow all of that bulging muscle to be covered in manly hair. He’d loved to saunter around, clad in tight pants and form-fitting button-downs that allowed him to display his alpha status. He completely ruled the gym and the little office he’d worked in to take care of his social media accounts. Everyone knew that he was stud— a total man’s man.

However, instead of the alpha male he was used to seeing, Antoine hated the image reflected back at him. He still retained his hard-earned muscles and his handsome looks, but all of that took a backseat to the enormous pecs he possessed thanks to a certain Christmas wish.

The bodybuilder looked as if he were smuggling two basketballs underneath his shirt that was several times larger than his usual ones, but was still strained to bursting. He’d been unable to button up the top three buttons, allowing the deep hairy top cleavage of his muscletits to be on full display. His erect, nubby nipples poked against the fabric, looking like a pair of thumbs. His pecs were so huge that they ballooned outwards at the sides as well, completely engulfing his thick neck and making it appear as if his head was resting directly atop the muscle mounds. His giant pectorals completely ruined his manly and proportional physique, causing him to come off as some freakshow who has beachball-sized pec implants.

But even more embarrassing for the stud was how sensitive they now were. It felt as if all of his body’s erogenous zones had traveled throughout Antoine’s body to center in solely on his pecs, with the epicenters being his nubby nipples. Sensations as simple as his shirt rubbing up the hairy mounds felt as good as masturbation, and Antoine’s cock always rocketed to life whenever his massive arms accidentally brushed up against his muscletits (which was often).

But that wasn’t the worst part…

“Mr. Vaillant?” a light voice called as Erik, a college intern helping to manage his socials, poked his youthful face into the bodybuilder’s office. “Your sponsor wanted me to remind you that you need to make a post of the new protein powder.”

Ever since what had happened, Antoine couldn’t help but admire some of the other men in the gym. He hated how jittery he’d get whenever he’d see another man’s pecs (which were obviously much smaller than his) pressing against their shirt or when he’d spot the large bulge in a guy’s pants. 

As he looked at Erik, he couldn’t help but admire the green tint to the young man’s eyes or how full his lips looked. The guy must’ve been an athlete in school, because his trimmed frame had some toned muscles that were still pretty sizable, albeit nowhere near as huge as the champion bodybuilder’s.

Antoine’s blush deepened when he saw the twenty-one year old guy’s green eyes try their best to avoid his huge pecs. “Tell them I’ll do it tomorrow,” he grunted, waving the skinny guy away with a buff arm. “And it’s 1930. Go home.”

Erik nodded, not-so-subtilely taking one last look at the older man’s muscletits before turning around. “Yes, Sir,” he said. “Have a nice weekend.” He left and closed the door behind him.

Antoine just huffed and slammed himself away from his desk, desperate for release. As he walked to the parking garage, Antoine tried to ignore the sight of his reflection in the car windows that showed his altered posture that had to account for the heavy muscle mounds. He walked with his back arched with shoved his pecs out into the open, as if advertising them for more to stare at. Even worse was that there was a slight bounce to them with every step the stud took, making his nipples rub up his shirt over and over again, his knees going weak.

The muscle hunk hopped in his truck and barely had time to close the door behind him before his frantic fingers undid the buttons of his shirt, desperate to give his sensitive chest some much-needed relief. Antoine practically tore his shirt away from his hairy torso, his inflated pecs heaving as he sighed deep breaths of relief, his larger nipples still burning with desperate want.

“This is getting real fuckin’ old,” Antoine groaned aloud as he struggled to catch his breath, his hard cock twitching wildly in his pants. Despite how irritated he was, he was also so incredibly horny, his sensitive pecs sometimes clouding over his frustration.

The top-heavy DILF took a moment to adjust his seat in his truck, having a little difficulty with his inflated pecs pressing against the horn on the steering wheel a few times. Antoine still wasn’t used to driving with his arms fighting to reach the wheel with his enlarged chest constantly getting in the way. He would have figured that after a few days, he’d be semi-accustomed to it, but he still gasped and whimpered loudly whenever his biceps would graze a nubby nipple whenever he turned the wheel. The rumbling from the powerful engine sent rippling vibrations throughout the truck, constantly making his pecs jiggle the slightest bit, which was shockingly enough to send little darts of pleasure throughout the stud. He had began to unwisely drive without his seatbelt, risking the ticket because whenever he wore it, the strap slipped deep into his cleavage and made him howl like a slut.

Doing his best to ignore the feeling his hypersensitive pecs brought him, Antoine drove straight home. Every so often when he’d be at a red light, the stud would grope his massive chest for a while, moaning loudly like a slut as he played with his tits. He’d be so caught up in the euphoric sensations that emanated from his sensitive muscletits, that he’d only be knocked out of it whenever the car behind him would honk because the light had turned green.

The embarrassed stud sped the rest of the way home, practically sprinting inside once he arrived.

Inside, Antoine barely fared any better. His massive pecs kept jiggling with every movement he made, and they kept getting in the way as he tried to cook himself dinner. No matter what he did, Antoine was helpless to do anything besides stimulate his sensitive chest, which led to him ceasing all of his nightly chores in order to just feel himself up.

As he gripped handfuls of his tits and gave them a squeeze, Antoine couldn’t hold back the low moans that bellowed out of his muscled frame. His face was bright red with humiliation, but the embarrassment he felt paled in comparison to the intense surges of pleasure that his muscletits brought him. His nipples were almost worse— every time he brushed up against them, his knees buckled and his cock throbbed even harder.

As he played with his chest, Antoine couldn’t help but think back to how this had all started. He’d been asked by some random Santa Claus out on the street what he’d wanted for Christmas. The bodybuilder had playfully replied with, “A big set of tits.”

Then the rest was history. 

The morning after the interaction, Antoine had been horrified to wake up and discover that his pecs had magically been inflated to nearly four times their normal size.

Antoine’s masturbation session was interrupted when he heard a knock at the door, making the top-heavy bodybuilder groan with annoyance. “What?” he barked out impatiently, his nubby nipples burning with want as soon as he let go out of his muscletits.

“Mr. Vaillant! It’s me, Erik!” the small voice of his tiny assistant called out from the other side of the front door. “You forgot to take the product home with you for your posts!”

Antoine sighed but opened up the door nonetheless. Like clockwork, as soon as he stared at the younger stud in his doorway, he could feel his cock twitch a little more and his nipples continued to burn with want.

Erik, in turn, couldn’t help but not-so-subtly stare at his boss’s inflated chest, the bulge in the front of his khakis starting to harden. His cock lengthened down his leg and he hungrily licked his lips at the sight of Antoine’s huge, hairy muscletits that were out in the open.

Despite having his warped pecs out for the younger guy to gawk at, Antoine couldn’t deny the surge of lust that he felt. “Fuck it,” he grunted as he grabbed Erik’s hand and yanked him inside. 

Antoine dropped to his knees and fished Erik’s uncut seven inch cock out of his pants. The bodybuilder leaned forward and thrusted his inflated chest out more, sliding his assistant’s cock deep into the cleavage of his pecs.

“OOhhhhh!” Antoine moaned loudly as a slut as the younger man pecfucked him. The bodybuilder grabbed the back of Erik’s toned butt and kept him in place as he thrusted himself up against his cock, driving it deeper into his pec cleavage. 

Nothing he’d ever done compared to the intense sensations that Antoine was feeling from his chest now. No sex he’d ever had with a woman nor playing with his own pecs was even close to the same. Sure he was embarrassed over his actions and over having his perfect musculature warped into a top-heavy caricature, but Antoine couldn’t bring himself to truly mind in the moment.

If walking around with ultra-sensitive muscletits that were way too big and cumbersome for his bodybuilder physique meant that he could get pecfucked by cute guys, then he was game.

His moans grew into pleasured cries as Erik reached down and began to thumb the bodybuilder’s nubby nipples.

Erik tensed up and came, blowing his load all over Antoine’s heavy tits, coating them in his spunk. Antoine’s forgotten cock had already blown its own load and was already hard and ready for a second round.

“Holy shit,” Erik panted as he leaned down and gave one of Antoine’s big muscletits a playful squeeze. “Merry Christmas, Antoine.”

Antoine shuddered at the feeling of his chest being squeezed, and all he could do was respond with a bellowing moan.

[propheticclown]

I LOVE HOW FLAWED THE ALPHA KIDS ARE!!! So many people hate a specific Alpha Kid or something but their character flaws are genuinely so realistic because they're all 16-year-olds! Jane is just a wonderfully written female character that doesn't fall into the trope of "My only negative emotion is sad because women are sad". She's allowed to be angry, but that same anger can cause her to lash out at her friends in a realistic way, for example, Roxy. On top of this, she arrogantly believes that she's in the right all the time and constantly corrects other people, which allows The Condense to take control of her because Jane foolishly believes that Roxy's "Batterwitch" stuff is nonesense.

Jake is constantly trying to impress his friends by exaggerating his "adventures" and masculinity to try and seem more interesting. But due to this compulsive need to seem impressive, along with his utter social isolation, he can come off as self-centered and genuinely doesn't understand other people's struggles and fails to communicate his boundaries with Dirk properly.

Dirk is obsessive and possessive of all his friends, especially Jake, but because they don't perfectly fit the vision he has in his head for them, he tries to push them to become better in ruthless and harsh ways, for example, sending a whole robot to Jake to fight, only for that robot to not actually be catered to Jake's fighting capabilities, either being too soft or way too hard, because he cares more about what Jake can become, than accepting him for who he already is, which would literally solve 99% of Jake's problems anyway.

Roxy is a unique case. She's one of the few characters who genuinely acknowledges her problems and takes steps to better them, but of course, she still has her problems. She wants to be loved and validated due to her isolation and can make seriously crass remarks when it's not appropriate (like when she was considering getting with Jake right after Jane's breakdown). She's needy, affection-starved, and desperate for validation. She still has flaws outside of her alcoholism and that's genuinely amazing. Most writers would make it so that Roxy's drinking would be her only problem but it isn't. Roxy is absolutely my favorite Alpha Kid because of this!

[hisunshiine]

—revelations under the moon

🌙 pairing: alpha!namjoon x omega!reader 🌙 au/genre: ABO au, fated mates au, angst, smut 🌙 series rating: M 🌙 wc: 9,468 🌙 series warnings: mentions of an off-screen character death (barely a character tbh), brief male masturbation, thoughts of 'cheating' (if they aren't true mates though..is it?), cursing, retelling of a fake historical fable that includes VERY brief mentions of murder and suicide as the consequence of a tragic hero's hubris explicit sexual content: biting, marking, knotting, semi-rough sex, unprotected sex, creampie, aftercare 🌙 an: wow, i did not think i would get this out in time, january was a rough month for me, but my grandpa just finished his last lung cancer treatment last week, and im trying to just balance all the stress of real life, but yeah, i think it's getting better. thank you to my beta readers, @downbad4yoongi @moonleeai and @peachiilovesot7 i appreciate all your help, whether you helped in december or in february, it is much appreciated, as always. you're the best hype squad. this is also my first ABO story, so if you hate it don't tell me. LOL 🌙 summary: "When crescent rises, we shall rise as one, Aligned with moonrise, our time has begun." Alpha-heir Namjoon and his long time sweetheart are thought to be the next pair to rule Highscrest, but when Duskfall is attacked, the heir makes a decision that changes the course of not only his and his girlfriend's destiny, but yours as well.

This story is part of the "New Year, New Me Love" @bangtanwritershq gift exchange, written for the lovely @colormepurplex2! Happy Valentine's Day!

🌒🌒🌒 Tuesday - Waxing Gibbous

The loud chatter of the crowd irritates you; your senses are on overdrive after the past two weeks you’ve had. Packing and moving everything you own across the river during the New Moon was unexpected—almost as unexpected of it being a result of a peace treaty signed by the Beta of your old pack after the death of Alpha Tyvrin. 

A Beta jostles you in an attempt to move closer to the raised platform at the far end of the civic center, and you shoot him a quick glare before turning your attention back to the men on stage to avoid any drama. An Omega glaring at a Beta isn’t as bad as if it was an Alpha, but insubordinate enough still. The new tribe members do not know your previous role in Duskfall and have every right to challenge any hierarchical disrespect.

“Quiet, please,” a voice rumbles quietly, but everyone in the room follows the directive. You recognize the Alpha Father, or the father of the Alpha-Heir and most recent Pack Alpha of Highcrest, at the podium. Your irritation drops as your senses can finally focus now that the room is silent. The smells of so many new pack members still suffocates your olfactory system, but it’s bearable now. One scent seems to overpower the rest, a clean forestry smell that seems to dilute the others. “Good evening, and thank you all for coming tonight. We hope you all have been acclimating to the changes these past few weeks. If you have any concerns, please reach out to any of us here.” 

The Alpha Father waves over his son, stepping aside to let him take the lead of the rest of the meeting. Your eyes drink in the lithe movements highlighted by the fit of his suit. “Thank you, Alpha Father. For those of you who are joining us from Duskfall, at the time of the New Moon three months prior, I began the ascension steps. Right before your arrival, I had just finished the last of the three trials. All that remains is the bonding.”

You look around the room to see if anyone else is having the same reaction to his voice as you are—the crowd is transfixed; all attention is on the Alpha Heir Kim Namjoon. He’s young, almost thirty, but commands the stage. It’s not just because he’s handsome, though the blue suit and his dark brown hair help. His aura oozes from afar, your inner wolf screaming at you that this is a man you would follow and it’s your turn to receive a dirty look as you bump into the person in front of you. You turn back to the stage, ears attuning to his baritone as he continues.

“—final ceremony will take place in three days, and as you all know, I will be selecting my mate. I know that there are many newcomers who may be wary of joining the pack with all of these changes happening so soon, but please have faith in us. Highcrest will protect you all, and we will be at full strength as soon as the full moon rises in a week.”

Some applause breaks out, and his confidence soothes the wolf inside you that worries about this treaty. Highcrest sits on the eastern side of the Twin Rivers split, atop the range that leads to Twin Falls. Your previous pack, Duskfall, was integrated into Highcrest two weeks ago after Shadowhide attacked and killed Alpha Tyvrin under the cover of the New Moon, in a successful attempt at taking the land between the two streams. 

The fertile soil and access to the freshwater source has been a source of contention between Duskfall and Shadowhide for decades, and while a group consisting of the Alpha, Beta and his best warriors patrolled your western border, Shadowhide attacked. The Beta and a few others escaped by the grace of the moon, which gave the pack enough warning to prepare and kept Shadowhide at bay now that the act of surprise was gone. With the Alpha slain and the clock ticking before Shadowhide invaded, the Beta had no choice but to reach out to Highcrest for help. A peace treaty was signed, allowing all pack members of Duskfall to join Highcrest in exchange for their commitment to the pack. Any members who were against the treaty were allowed to leave of their own volition and go back to the main city, or find a pack of their choosing, but with the danger of Shadowhide’s takeover imminent, everyone agreed to travel east across the river and up the mountain range to the safety of Highcrest.

“Thank you to all of Duskfall’s former pack for all of your patience with us as we’ve worked to create a space for all of you here in Highcrest. After the ceremony, which is open to all unmated Omegas, everyone from Duskfall will officially be of Highcrest, and those who have not yet finished their commitment rites can do so at that time.”

You watch as Kim Namjoon waves over a tall, slender woman with sleek hair falling down her back. She is the picture of elegance, her walk stalking forward in a hypnotic fashion as she steps beside the Alpha-Heir and speaks to the crowd. You recognize her from the Apothecary you’ve been training in ever since you’ve settled into your new life here.  

“Good evening, everyone. I’m Min Everlight, an Omega of pack Highcrest. I am the head healer for the pack, and if Alpha Namjoon is ever unavailable, please come see me down at the Apothecary. I’ll help in whatever capacity I can in his absence.” Her hand moves almost subconsciously towards his, and they intertwine fingers. “We have committed our lives to this pack, and all of us up here will do our best to provide for Highcrest. Please stop by the apothecary this week if you haven’t yet received the Aconite to remove your Duskfall markings in preparation for your Highcrest one.”

Everlight stays linked to Namjoon as he takes a slight step forward to end the meeting.

“When the crescent rises,” he begins, and the people around you intone their response. 

“We, too, shall rise.”

Walking under the waxing gibbous, you and your Beta roommate, Sana, wave goodbye to one of your elderly neighbors. You’ve been checking on all of the members of your old pack, helping them in any way you can to get them acclimated after work. You go home tired every night, but you want to make sure this merger works.

Sana skips ahead as your new home comes into sight, singing the Alpha-Heir’s praises. “He’s so brilliant, I promise you this is the best thing that could’ve happened to us. And Min Everlight? She’s amazing, right? You’ve been working under her these past couple of weeks, isn’t she effervescent?”

You laugh at her excitement, answering her vaguely as you unlock the door to your shared home. “She knows her stuff, that’s for sure. I’ve learned a few new things already since we’ve been here, but most of it I already knew.” Sana dreamily wanders to her bedroom, ignoring your slight diss and chattering mostly to herself about how wonderful tribe Highcrest is. You plop onto the couch unceremoniously, thoughts on Min Everlight. 

Everlight is effervescent, with an inner glow that makes her the perfect Omega as mate for the Alpha-Heir. You’ve heard from the other women at the Apothecary that she and Namjoon have been dating for years. Longtime sweethearts and—if their little show on stage meant anything—his choice for his mate. This thought makes you feel sick, because ever since you walked away from Duskfall and followed him to Highcrest, your heart has thrummed for him. 

Taking a deep breath that you let out with a sigh, you change your line of thinking before you venture towards a vitriol hatred of your soon-to-be female leader. Min Everlight has been nothing but motherly and nurturing to all of you since your arrival, but the more you see her all over the Alpha-Heir, the harder it is to like her. Not just because of her romantic relationship with Namjoon, either, but that she represents everything that you almost were, and reminds you of everything you lost.  

You scratch at your upper arm over your shirtsleeve, where the Aconite serum you rubbed on earlier dissolves your Duskfall tattoo in preparation for your Highcrest one. The Aconite is diluted and mixed with other herbs to prevent poisoning that would weaken you before the ceremony. Sana disappears into the shared bathroom to shower, and you close your eyes for a moment not meaning to fall asleep as you wait for your turn.

The moon goddess blesses you with dreams of Duskfall past, memories of your destined path as the tribe’s Luna-to-be—the Omega paired to the now fallen Alpha Tyvrin—and you wake to the reality that all you have trained for was for naught.  

🌓🌓🌓 Wednesday - Waxing Gibbous

Or, more like you wake with the sudden slam of a door, sitting upright as you squint to keep back the sunlight. 

“Damn, you slept on the couch?” Sana questions, looking cheery and well-rested.

You clear your throat to answer. “Yeah, I guess so. What time is it?”

Sana glances at her watch. “Um, it’s half past eight.”

“Shit, I overslept, and I’m supposed to meet with Everlight again today.” You stand abruptly, and begin organizing all of the large pillows on the couch, laying the blanket just so until you hear Sana laughing at you. You look up at her with a glare. “What?”

“I think you might be in pre-heat. You’ve fluffed that pillow at least three times, and that blanket cannot be folded over the back of the couch any more perfectly unless you’ve got a protractor in the cabinet.”

“There’s no way, it hasn’t been enough time since the last one.” You ignore her as you clamber back onto the couch, tucking your legs up under you seemingly forgetting your plans for the day.

“Your heat is probably gearing up because of some Alpha at the meeting last night. With Tyvrin gone, rest in moonlight, you’re no longer taking the suppressants are you? With everything that’s happened, it makes sense that you’d forget,” she theorizes, “and apparently Highcrest doesn’t have that practice here.”

You can’t believe you’ve forgotten. In Duskfall, you were chosen by Alpha Tyvrin to be his mate, and asked to take suppressants until the ceremony. This was to help to prevent you from having a heat, decreasing your pheromones from triggering any non-bonded Alpha’s into their ruts and endangering you. These past few weeks since the move, you haven’t been taking any suppressants, and you’re sure by now it's run its course and is out of your system.  

“They don’t practice that here?”

“No, weren’t you listening at the meeting? The Alpha-Heir doesn’t choose his mate the same way like in Duskfall. Highcrest has a different ceremony. All unmated Omega’s can be part of it.”

“But isn’t Everlight most likely going to be chosen anyways?”

“I hear there’s blindfolds involved, so maybe instead of sulking, and filling the apartment with your sour scent, you can just join the ceremony and give it a try.”

The news fills your chest with what feels like sunbeams, and you smile at the Beta as you relax into what you’re now realizing is a nest.

“Ah, the room smells so much nicer now. Also—you’re late.”

🌓🌓🌓 Wednesday - Waxing Gibbous

Kim Namjoon sits patiently outside the Apothecary, waiting for Everlight to finish for the day. He can sense her inside, her scent a fresh scent of clean linen, just brought down off of the line after soaking in the sun. It’s always been the strongest scent to him, out of all of the women in Highcrest, and he’s sure that the Moon Goddess will prove her to be his mate this weekend when he ascends to his Alpha status. 

Fingers drumming along his clothed knee, he hums to himself as he watches the sunrays filtering through the trees as it sets. The small bell above the door chimes as small groups of girls and women of all ages trickle out from the shop—Everlight hosted a gathering after work for all of the newcomers to review the Highcrest ceremony procedures for women, and they all bow respectfully when they catch sight of him seated in the chair near the door. 

Namjoon can’t help but wonder what else they were working on today, his nose itches to investigate whatever new tonic or serum she’s put together this time—the smell is amazing. Like a warm honey coating his tongue, hints of bourbon with small bursts of brown sugar peaking his interest. He hopes it’s not something inedible, like the Aconite serum, and his curiosity getting the better of him, he stands, unbuttoning his suit jacket and moving to peer through the small glass windows framed in the center of the door. 

Ah, he thinks as he takes in one of the new pack members, Everlight must have let one of the Duskfall women teach a new tonic. Namjoon recognizes you through the dusty glass standing in front of the group, and remembers that his Beta, Seokjin, had pointed you out from afar when you first arrived.

🌑Two Weeks Ago 🌑 Monday - New Moon

“That’s Alpha Tyvrin’s mate, er—was his mate. They hadn’t actually had the ceremony yet, the attack happened before the full moon ceremony could happen, but she was set to be Duskfall’s Luna.” Seokjin’s finger points down the lane from the window of City Hall, connecting to a woman walking towards the villager housing area. Namjoon eyes you warily before posing a series of questions to his Beta.

“Will it be an issue to have two mature Luna’s in a pack? Should we offer to place her with another pack to mate with an Alpha?”

“I don’t know…I haven’t ever heard of something like this happening. Typically the Alpha has already mated the Luna, and since one cannot live without the other—”

“I see.” Namjoon understands why the Moon Goddess would create such a fate for paired leaders. “Had the ceremony already happened, she would be buried next to him. It could be a help, now that we have so many more people, to have two strong healers in the pack. Maybe she could travel on patrols in case of an attack?” He wonders how Everlight would react to finding out that there’s another Luna-trained Omega in the pack, and if this would be a way to spin it to lessen any blowback. 

Seokjin looks thoughtful, eyebrows lifted as he tilts his head and gathers his words carefully. “That could be a good option for the second Luna, so that their training and skills do not go to waste, especially now that our pack has grown…It could also be worth mentioning—with so many new members, it would be a good show of faith if you were to perhaps choose the Duskfall Luna as your mate—”

Namjoon’s growl silences Seokjin momentarily but he presses on when he sees no claws being barred. 

“I’m just saying, nothing helps unite two packs better than having one of their own integrated into the upper levels of the hierarchy. If we want to keep peace and help Duskfall feel loyalty to Highcrest, taking their to-be-Luna as your mate would be the smart move. You and Everlight aren’t fated, so it’s not like our pack would frown upon it under the circumstances—”

Namjoon’s eyes cut like daggers as he stares his Beta down, almost dragon-like in ferocity as he contains his inner beast. “Everlight is my mate, Seokjin. I would never betray her like that.” 

🌓🌓🌓 Wednesday (present) - Waxing Gibbous

Looking at you now, Namjoon is glad to see that you and Everlight seem to have no issues working alongside each other. After reading through previous Alphas’ historical notes and reviewing the history of the packs of the Twin Rivers Valley, he decided that it would be best to keep you around, as he worries his newest constituents would revolt if they thought he had banished you from Highcrest. He spent the first couple of weeks talking to other elder members of Duskfall, and learned that a lot of the pack had come to rely on you as they became acclimated, that you had been going around to visit with them and check-in, and keep them all calm with the changes happening. 

He appreciated that you had taken this on as a duty, especially when you were dealing with the biggest blow of all. Namjoon meant to meet with you to thank you, but the longer he took, the more it felt fake, rehearsed, and like an afterthought instead of what it really was: an Alpha-Heir not yet familiar with his role, and learning about you from afar made him feel like a weird stalker of sorts that he had all this knowledge of you and your skills from others.  

Your skills would be most useful to their pack, and though you were meant to lead the pack by an Alpha’s side, you could still maintain some modicum of that role, just as the second to Everlight. Namjoon is sure this plan will work. He plans to have a meeting with Seokjin and Everlight tonight, that way he can make sure that they will follow his plan without any issues. 

He knows he could just order everyone to follow along, but using his Alpha to force others to do what he wants doesn’t always work out in the long run. The history of the tribal lands and the fact that there were three distinct tribes from the original one, up until Tyvrin’s death, is proof of that. 

It’s much better for a leader to have the consenting loyalty of his pack, instead of forced fealty that brews contempt and derision. Namjoon steps back from the door to allow another person to exit, and once again, the honeyed bourbon seeps through the opening. It’s much stronger this time, urging him to his feet almost against his will. 

He feels his blood thrumming, pounding through his veins like a rushing river. Namjoon checks his forehead, as if feverish, and notices his hand comes back with a sheen of sweat. It’s like he’s gone into pre-rut, which would be crazy. He’s pretty regular when it comes to his ruts lining up with Everlight’s heats, and she’s still not due for a little bit…

Namjoon stumbles backward, taking the three steps back to solid ground quickly as he tugs at the collar of his buttoned shirt. He’s too hot, it’s all too much, he has to do something, move, but he’s in the middle of the town, there are people who look to him to be more restrained than this standing all around…Namjoon trips a little on the gravel beneath his feet as he takes off back towards City Hall and away from Everlight, afraid that if she is due for her heat and his pre-rut was triggered by that, he would mount her right there in front of the last few people in the store and fuck her hard against the counter, not caring if everyone saw the powerful way he drove his cock in and out of her until he filled her with cum and knotted her.

He’s locked himself in his office, blinds closed with his fist wrapped around his thick length as he imagines it: his hands firm on the plump rounds of ass, spreading the cheeks apart as he spits between them, Omega slick lathering his cock with every stroke and the tight walls sucking him back in with every pump out, and when he cums—copious amounts leaking around his large hand—it’s only then that he realizes that it wasn’t the clean linen-scented Everlight he was imagining taking his knot.

🌔🌔🌔 Thursday - Waxing Gibbous

You’re irritated—more so than you’ve been since your entire life was turned upside down two weeks ago. The Beta that’s always around the Alpha, Seokjin, randomly showed up at your place in the morning saying you were tasked to go on a supply run to the nearest city. It makes sense—Seokjin explained that the Alpha had handpicked everyone in the group to help new pack members meet others and start to learn their ways, and you appreciate it, except for the fact that you don’t want to be far from home right now. 

In fact, because of the upcoming ceremony, Everlight had let all of the women training in the apothecary have the next few days off, as she expected to be chosen and wanted to prepare herself and her home for what was to come. You had mixed feelings when she initially announced this to everyone, because while you enjoy the respite from the constant go-go-go of changes around you, the reason behind it left you feeling miffed. 

All of yesterday, you spent time working at the Apothecary and were even asked by some of the others to show them some tonics and potions that they had never heard of, and while you enjoy teaching others, it’s quite draining to go through the motions while talking through every step you make, and why. The girls quietly scribbled down your words in their notebooks, committing your teachings to paper, which made you feel good about yourself, until reality hit about your future. 

It almost didn’t feel fair that you were so new to the pack and already others were looking to you to train and teach them new things, meanwhile another person is slated to take the position you’ve wanted and trained for your whole life. 

Shaking away your thoughts, you tap back into the moment, finally having arrived in the bustling city a little past mid-day. You hate all of the smells; the odor rising from the sewer grates and scents from the people who jostle you as they rudely push past your group. You hold back the urge to plug your nose, sighing out a weighted exhale as you follow Seokjin through the automatic sliding doors and into a grocer’s market. 

🌔🌔🌔 Thursday - Waxing Gibbous

Back in the forest, a half day’s trip from the city, Kim Namjoon spends his time in his office again, hiding out from his duties by disguising them as last minute studying and planning for the ceremony. 

He couldn’t bring himself to meet with Everlight the previous night, instead calling Seokjin only to discuss the plans for the supply run. He looked over the list of items Everlight needed in the apothecary, and only because the winter months were starting to fade away into spring meant this would be the last expensive trip until winter came again. 

Bees do not make honey in the winter, so why can’t he explain away the coincidence of the honey bourbon smell and the note written in Everlight’s scrawl next to the requested item underlined twice: Honey — we’ve been out for ages!! He doesn’t want to believe that he could be feeling this way for someone other than Everlight, but of two things he knows for sure: he smelled honey, and Everlight is distinctly NOT a honey smell. 

Seeing that on the list had Namjoon rise with a wild idea, to send the other Luna far, far away for the day, to help him clear his mind. In reality, he paces his office, wearing thin the once plush carpet with his worried steps until he can’t take it anymore. Crossing the room, he walks with such a force that no one dares to question where he’s off to. 

He knows where you live, knows that your Beta roommate Sana should be home, and when he knocks on the door with authority, he expects Sana to fling the door open so hastily that the movement sends the mixed scents of the apartment wafting out at him. Instantly, he expects his spine to straighten as his whole body is overwhelmed by the truth—except that never comes. No one is home, as a kind older woman politely points out to him after his third attempt at knocking. 

“Those girls went into town today, it seemed like the Luna had to drag Sana along with her,” she chuckled, clearly a pack member who was fond of the two women. “Did you want me to tell them you stopped by?”

“No! I mean—no need to worry them about my visit, I can talk to them tomorrow, thank you.”

He swiftly departs, deciding to just head home instead of back to the office for some peace.

“Joonie!”

Barely having set foot in his residence, Namjoon is bombarded with the irritating scent of laundry detergent. It’s too pungent; overwhelming in a way that he’s never experienced before. He catches himself before his nose wrinkles and Everlight ascends into his arms. He hugs her back, planting a soft kiss to the side of her head in an endearing manner before she pulls him into the dining room for an early dinner with his parents. 

Namjoon spends the evening engaged in conversation with his parents and Everlight, avoiding talks of the ceremony as best he can—despite his mother and girlfriend's best attempts. His dad eyes him warily—in that cunning way that only another Alpha can—sensing the change in the dynamics within the room. Namjoon is grateful his father remains quiet, simply watching the conversation over the nightcap of barrel-aged Cabernet Sauvignon from their cellar.

Once they call it a night and his parents disappear to their room, Everlight begs Namjoon to stay over, and unable to say no to the woman he’s never said no to before, he relents. He regrets this decision almost immediately, as his hopes that Everlight would help him take his mind off of the one thing that’s been at the forefront of it are crushed.   

“She’s just really good at healing. She knows a lot, like I can’t believe I’m even admitting it, but she knows things that I don’t. And the things I have been able to teach her, she learns it so quickly and easily. I’m actually kind of jealous.”

Namjoon can tell; Everlight’s face is scrunched up in a way that makes her look unattractive, and he doesn’t know what to do or to say to make her feel less insecure. 

“Maybe it’s a good thing she is joining our pack. It’s important to learn and grow continuously.” It’s as diplomatic as he can be at the moment.

“Yes, but she’s trained as a Luna, just like me. It’s a little like she’s trying to take my spot. Yesterday, while I was teaching, the other girls asked her to teach them something I didn’t know, and I just had to stand there and let her take over my lesson. The girls were so focused on her and taking notes, it made me kind of hate her.”

She’s looking at him, her eyes trying to find something within his, but he looks away, reaching for the light next to his bed.

Everlight reaches for him, aligning her body to his as her fingers grip his shoulders so she can position herself atop him.

“That’s why I can’t wait for the ceremony, baby. We can finally be a true, mated pair. Start our forever, with me as your Luna. No room for confusion from the pack about who will bear your pups.” Her eyebrows waggle up and down suggestively as she lowers her lips to his plump ones. “We can practice now if you want, you can scent me, let all the bitches in heat know to back off.” She kisses him again. 

Namjoon kisses her back, but her laundry odor fills his nasal cavity and her words are so off-putting for the role she hopes to take on for the pack. He can feel her hands travel down his ribcage, but nothing about her touch turns him on. Pulling away from the kiss, he catches his breath as he readies his excuse.

“Babe, I think we should wait,” his large hands hold her shoulders firmly before his touch grows softer, palms smoothing up and down her arms in a soothing motion. “The ceremony is so soon, and I want it to be sacred…I know that might sound cheesy and un-Alpha-like but—”

“No, you’re right.” Everlight smiles softly at him, but he can see the hurt in her eyes at being rejected. “I’m just feeling overwhelmed with all of the new pack members and the changes happening, I think I got a little over excited.”

“I love that about you, you know? You’re excitement over things, and how you want to be the best version of yourself for our pack. You’re already an amazing Luna in your own right.”

Everlight excuses herself to the bathroom, and Namjoon clambers off his bed, bare feet leading him towards his cracked bedroom window. In the light of the almost full moon, he can now see the noises that drew his attention moments ago: returning members of his pack walking down the path to their homes. 

There’s no mistaking it now. A warmth blooms from his groin, spreading higher until his neck grows hot from it as his nose and mouth feel thick with the sweetest bourbon honey scent. With you unaware of his gaze as you laugh with Seokjin and Sana, he feels jealousy boiling into his chest.

“Mine.”

🌕🌕🌕 Friday - Full Moon

You wake up late on Friday morning, your body a little stiff and sore. You feel as if you slept with a heater on, sleep clothes clinging to your body due to the sweat that covers your skin. You try to shake it off, but the feeling doesn’t go away, even after a cold shower.

You’re not surprised you woke up mid afternoon after arriving back at Highcrest near midnight, but you suppose the excitement of what’s to come will keep you awake the rest of the evening. You have to meet the elders for the pre-ceremony rituals at the start of moonrise, so you eat a light snack in the hopes it won’t trouble your stomach too much. 

You know now that Sana is right. Your heat will kick in no later than tomorrow afternoon, with the confirmation of the night sweating and soreness symptoms appearing today, but you worry about what it will mean if you end up not being chosen…you’ll begin cramping and sink into Omega-space, leaving you vulnerable to other higher ranking pack members without a plan prepared to get you through your heat.

At quarter till six, you leave your home with a small bag of items and head to city hall, where Elder Aline waits for you and the other Omegas who planned to join the ceremony to arrive. Elder Aline was old—she worked closely with the Luna three times removed was in power, and lived to prepare both of her successors, and now would be helping to prepare this ceremony. 

You hug your bag to your chest as the last of the group arrives: Everlight. She only looks slightly surprised to see you in the group of seven Omega’s, but she fixes her facial features quickly and offers you a bright smile. 

“I didn’t expect to see you in the group!” Everlight’s tone is friendly enough, but the undercurrent of her words screams out territorial.

“Oh, yeah, my roommate said I should come as an unmated Omega to take part in the ceremony. It’s different from our previous pack’s tradition, and if I hope to carry out my duties and help with future ceremonies, the best way to learn is to be part of it, right?”

Your answer makes sense, perfectly curated to help push away any questions that dig too deep into your motivations, including yourself. Part of you knew that it would be beneficial to you if the worst comes to fruition, but the other part, the more primitive part, knows the real reason is because the wolf inside of you longs for your mate to be Kim Namjoon.  

Elder Aline calls for your attention, her weathered voice a calming stillwater that acts as a soothing balm to the nervous energy in your chest. She speaks to the group, sharing some information about how the rest of the night will play out before she leads your small group towards the outskirts of Highcrest, to the south of a small lake on the edge of the forest. The walk takes a bit of time to navigate the terrain, especially with an Elder leading. 

You allow her moments to pause and rest, clearly fatigued from traipsing through high grasses and uneven dirt, but soon enough you are there, and placed along the treeline, a small clearing awaits you. She makes quick work of explaining the first ritual’s steps, and you allow her voice to lead you through the routine. 

The cleansing ritual itself takes the better part of an hour, as everyone planning to participate strips down to enter the water under the light of the moon which now grazes the top of the trees. A small pouch filled with herbs and petals is handed to each of you to rid you of any lingering outside scents. You lather your skin, taking the time to clean every inch before stepping out to air dry. It’s colder than you expected, but no one wants to risk masking their scent for the ceremony. 

The elder had laid a simple white dress on the shore of the lake near your bag, and once dry, you sheathed your body with it, happy for the fabric to provide some warmth. She pulls a thermos from her bag along with small cups.

“Purified under the new moon,” she intones, handing you a steaming cup of tea. “Red azaleas, to pull out your emotions and attract your true mate.”

You sip it slowly, letting the heat warm your hands. The other women join you after the elder gives them each a cup, and you huddle in a circle, trying to stay warm.

“I think it’s good that we have so many of us for the ceremony,” Everlight speaks, her voice light and airy. “It would be a boring ceremony if I was here by myself.”

Her words were clearly chosen carefully, meant to sound like a compliment to the others for their company, while laying claim to the role not yet given to her by the moon. You bristle, feeling your body heat up. Her comments were starting to annoy you, because a true Luna was not insecure or haughty. She was a healer, a person that others could go to when they needed strength, compassion, or empathy. Everlight seemed to have forgotten this. 

“I think it is great that Highcrest’s tradition is different from ours, it feels more…pure.” You don’t know how else to describe it, but the act of having the alpha choose his mate through this ceremony feels like how it used to be. The elder hears you and her words confirm this. 

“This is the true ceremony. But come now, it is about time for us to begin.”

She leads you around to the north side of the lake. A small copse of trees had blocked the incoming sight, and now that you were closer, you could see the small gathering of pack members standing in a crescent.  

Directing you to step into the open space, she takes your cups from each of you as the seven of you line up with ample space between each other. You look around nervously. The cold you felt earlier when you were wet and naked exiting the lake was gone; you notice that you feel hot. You’ve felt hot since drinking the tea.

The crowd murmurs quietly to one another as you look around for Sana, finally finding her to the right near the top point of the moon shape they were standing in. She waves at you, a smile breaking across her face as she takes you in. 

All at once the noise in the forest dies out. The muttering follows suit, and Elder Aline steps before the crowd. 

“Before the great divide of the tribal lands, the Alpha’s mate was never set in stone until the ceremony was completed. Even if the Alpha had taken many lovers as a young pup, it matters not, for what the moon reveals is the truth. And an Alpha dare not disobey the moon, lest the pack fall weak.”

She then begins her tale of the history of the original tribe they descended from. 

“Many, many moons ago, we once existed as a proud and noble pack led by an Alpha of unmatched strength and wisdom named Lycaon. Under his reign, our pack thrived, united as one for the good of the group. We honored the ancient laws dictated by the phases of the moon, for we knew the moon's power was both a gift and a curse. Before the divide, we could shapeshift along with the phases of the moon.

But Lycaon, with his pride swelling within him like a thunderous storm cloud, began to question the moon's choice for his fated mate. He refused his fated Omega, instead choosing who he wanted, and not who our celestial goddess knew our pack needed. Ignoring the warnings of his most trusted Betas, Lycaon decided that his unborn son would also choose his own mate, not the moon.

At first, this defiance seemed to have no negative impact. But before long, cracks began to appear between pack members. By refusing the moon's guidance, the pack ended up with an Alpha-chosen Luna who was not prepared for her role. The rejected Luna fell melancholy, and took her own life, saying she could not watch the ruin of her pack. Some wolves found themselves unable to control their shifting, and began to attack their own kin in fits of madness. Other pack members grew weak—their bodies unable to withstand the impact of their dual nature.”

The entire crowd was enraptured hearing the tale, as Duskfall members did not know the history, and you are among them in learning the true history of the divide.

“As chaos descended upon our once-proud pack, Lycaon's authority waned as the full moon wanes. Desperate to maintain his grip on the pack, he resorted to ruling the pack with fear instead of respect. But his efforts only fueled the flames of discord, and soon, the pack was torn asunder by fights and betrayal.

In the aftermath of our pack's collapse, three new packs rose from the one, each led by a different wolf claiming to be the one true Alpha. They fought for the lands we stand upon today, with Lycaon’s son, Claudin, taking the hills to found Highcrest, and the other two packs fighting over the lower grounds.  Claudin knew that in order to reclaim the strength and glory we had lost, he must not allow pride or the greed for power seduce him into betraying the moon.”

A low murmur swept through the crowd. You knew your former packmates had the same thoughts running through their mind as you did—could this really be true? Was Alpha Tyvrin’s downfall predestined to happen in order to reunite the original pack? Elder Aline coughs, and you focus back on her.

“And so, this tale of Alpha Lycaon and our pack serves as a tale of caution for generations, a reminder of the dangers of hubris and the importance of respecting the ancient laws that govern our kind. Alpha Claudin rectified the treachery his father had done unto the moon, but we shall never shift again as punishment.”

A quiet settles upon the crowd, and the elder gestures to a group of children you didn’t notice before. They step towards each of you, and she asks you all to kneel. The small child before you has a face like a cherub, full cheeks pulled tight as he shows his teeth to you, eyes disappearing in his delight. 

He bequeaths a length of dark fabric, and his hands move so as to wrap the ends around your face, deftly knotting it behind your head. When you feel him step away, you stand back to full height. Your other senses are heightened, anxiety blossoming at what comes next. You hear footsteps, and sounds of awe and admiration sweep across the crowd stealing your nerves. You freeze in anticipation. 

“Alpha Namjoon has done what we once thought impossible, uniting two tribes where whence was three, and we must continue to follow the moon’s guidance. We must not deceive ourselves. The moon will not lead us wrong. It will not lead him wrong.”

Seconds tick by as you wait, eyes furiously trying to see through the thick material stealing your sight. Seconds turn into minutes and you can hear the faint rustling of bare feet traveling across the grass, the weighted foot falls accompanied by heavy inhales of the still air surrounding the area. You know the Alpha has entered the clearing—can feel a palpable shift in the energy as your body grows hotter by the second. His scent sings to you, and you whine lowly, wanting to follow it.

Again, the crowd responds to something unseen by you, this time it has your inner wolf crouching, tail down and ears back—showing submission. Another whine escapes you, a little louder this time. Your distress must be filling the area around you, you can sense the crowd’s movement, reacting to your scent. You begin to panic, fearing that a distressed scent would push the Alpha to choose another, not the scared, submissive and pathetically whining bitch in heat—

🌕🌕🌕 Friday - Full Moon 

Namjoon walks up to the clearing surrounded by his closest advisors, some of whom had been absent patrolling the borders and securing their land the past several weeks, and returned in time for the ceremony. As he approaches, the sounds in the forest quickly fade, as if sensing his arrival.

He waits for his signal to enter the clearing, far enough away that he can only smell the crowd of his pack members standing between him and the clearing where the Omegas will stand. Namjoon spent all day in the forest, away from town preparing for the ritual by hunting for game to be used for the meal to feed his mate before the knotting. He also had to follow the same cleansing tradition, bathing under the light of the full moon, drinking the purified new moon tea, and dressing in loose, white linen pants.

He tried his best to clear his mind from the events of the previous evening, and once he was away from the bustle of the town square, he found it easier to convince himself it was just a fluke. After years of being with Everlight, the idea of being fully committed must have made him feel a bit scared, so he latched onto the idea of something new, someone different…you. 

Now, after his mindful afternoon in the forest, he knows he just has to trust the moon will lead him to Everlight, his mate. He knows her scent, knows it like he knows the taste of his mom’s cooking or the sound of his father’s favorite whiskey bottle opening.

As the moon climbs higher, he waits, steadily listening as the crowd quiets and Elder Aline speaks, recounting the tale of the original tribe. As she gets close to finishing her tale, Namjoon is tapped on the shoulder by Beta Taehyung, who motions to the blindfold in his hand. 

“It’s time, Alpha.”

Namjoon nods, taking the blindfold from the younger male and covering his dragon-shaped orbs. He fastens the knot, and he senses when another one of his trusted Betas approaches him. 

“I have the pouch here. Make sure to smell it deeply before—” 

Beta Jungkook is interrupted by Namjoon. “I know, I know. Smell it deeply before I let my inner wolf out to track my mate.” He lifts an open palm so Jungkook can place the small, organza fabric reticule into his hand.

When he hears his name, he knows that’s his signal. He follows the sound of the elder’s voice to enter the clearing.

“Alpha Namjoon has done what we once thought impossible, uniting two tribes where whence was three, and we must continue to follow the moon’s guidance. We must not deceive ourselves. The moon will not lead us wrong. It will not lead him wrong.” 

Raising the small sack to clear his olfactory senses, he inhales a piece of his own clothing, a small handkerchief he kept on him all week. A trick using olfactory habituation to cleanse his palate from the surrounding smells, allowing him to only smell his mate. The crowd shifts, he can hear stilted murmurs about his physique being on display since he was shirtless as he walks past his pack. 

Stepping fully into the clearing, he inhales deeply, and instantly he picks up the laundry scent that he’s so used to being surrounded by. It’s definitely Everlight’s scent—he’s almost positive—but it has an edge to it, a slight tinge that he’s not used to smelling. The longer he stands there, the more the scent morphs into a cloying, headache inducing smell. It’s almost fake, a manufactured scent that doesn’t entice him. 

He steps away from the smell of it, noting an undercurrent of something nice. The crowd reacts, confused at his actions, but he doesn’t care. He knows he has to trust the moon. And that bourbon-honey scent? He wants more of that. Lifting the pouch again to his nose to rid it of the sickly sweet smell, he drops his hand after a few inhalations, allowing the soft honey smell to seep into his pores. It’s alluring, growing more seductive by the moment, but then it takes on the additional bitter scent of anxiety, and Namjoon worries that something is wrong. 

He can feel his inner wolf scratching to get closer, to protect, to save his mate—when he steps closer, the crowd reacts again, so he grabs at his blindfold, tearing it free so that he can get to you. He needs to calm you down, you need to feel safe, to know that your Alpha is here to protect you. He’s closer to you than expected, and the whine you let out calls to him in more ways than one. 

His body feels alight with flames, he can see you’re trembling. His hand moves without him thinking, gripping the blindfold and tugging it up and off your head. 

🌕🌕🌕 Friday - Full Moon 

The light of the moon feels blinding as you blink to adjust your eyes to the sudden return of your sight before it’s eclipsed by the broad body of the Alpha. His breaths are almost frantic, a heavy panting that moves his shoulders with each exhalation as his wild eyes roam your face. His neck gland is hidden by a tied piece of cloth, masking his scent partially and you want to bury your face into him, seeking safety and comfort. 

Your body responds to his proximity almost immediately, a simultaneous calming of the mind’s anxiety as physically you feel engulfed in a blaze, a sweat finally breaking out along your hairline as you’re thrown into full heat. Namjoon’s nostrils flare as he inhales you, his face looking triumphant as he kneels on one knee before you. He reaches for your hands, which tremble as he locks eyes with you. 

“Namjoon, what the hell?!” Everlight stands several omegas down from you, her face free of the blindfold, which now dangles from her fingertips at her side. She doesn’t move for a moment, not until she realizes the Alpha was not responding to her. Her steps don’t falter as she gets closer to you, but your scent grows sour as you take in the murderous look on her face.

Namjoon’s movements are quick and fluid. He stands and postures himself, keeping you protected behind him as he shoves Everlight back with one hand.

“Mine,” he growls. Everlight drops the blindfold, confusion blossoming upon her face. 

Namjoon turns to you, grasping your cheeks gently in his hands. “Mate.”

He throws his head back, and lets out a loud howl to the moon. 

Chaos ensues. The entire field grows loud as some pack members celebrate the ceremony’s success, while others gossip about the outcome. You can hear snippets of the conversations until another voice grows louder, shouting at the Alpha. It’s Everlight, your brain registers, she’s angry, her sour scent wafting in your direction as she screams. 

Some Betas you’ve never seen before hold her back, preventing her from coming closer to you and Namjoon. You back up, jostling into him, and the urge you had earlier grows so strong you don’t hold back. Jumping into his arms, you bury your nose into his neck, and you instantly melt against him, fatigued. Namjoon is startled but holds you tightly, and you can feel when he begins to walk swiftly away from the crowd.

You don’t question it, you just let your Alpha lead you to someplace safe. It takes a few minutes before you arrive at a small cottage, its windows lit with a soft glow. You recognize it for what it is—a mating cabin. Set far enough away from the town square that a newly mated Alpha and Luna can have alone time to get through the next few days. 

Namjoon sets you down, but doesn’t let you go. Opening the door, the first thing you see is a pack of water on the small wooden table. It’s one large room, like a studio with an open concept. There’s a small kitchen set up to the left, and straight ahead is a large bed. The sheets are clean and welcoming, and you can feel your body beginning to cramp as your heat kicks in. 

You knew it was coming—the low-grade fever, mild cramping, and more recently, increased slick and pheromone production ever since Namjoon touched you in the clearing. You shuffle, uncomfortable as slick leaks out of you, trailing down your thigh slowly.

You can hear Namjoon inhale sharply, before he’s kicking the door shut and grabbing you firmly. He doesn’t speak. His eyes say everything though, the adoration and lust sparkling in the low light in the room. 

“Alpha.” It’s a statement. It’s a request. 

His lips are on yours, devouring, tasting, suckling as if he can’t get enough of you.

“Honey. You taste like sweet bourbon infused honey…it’s intoxicating.” Namjoon kisses you again, this time his lips trail from yours to your neck. He teases you, teeth nipping at the skin as your thighs rub together seeking pleasure as he pulls sinful mewls from your throat. Your hands grip his upper arms, and you try to tug him towards the bed. You need him. You need his knot. 

“Please, Alpha,” you beg, and he shivers in your hold, aroused by your submissiveness. “Need you.”

Namjoon lifts you up, allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist. You grind against him, biting his bottom lip aggressively. You feel so hot—burning up—and he’s the only thing that can cure you from this growing pain. 

Your heat is in full swing, and you can tell it’s triggering your Alpha’s rut. He’s trying to hold back, be gentle and slow, but when you push your leaking core against him, he gives in. His hands fumble with the waistband of his linen pants before his heavy cock springs free, fully erect and searching for your entrance. You move your waist to help the angle of his cock, as one hand holds your hip and the other holds the base of his shaft to align himself. 

When the slight pressure on your slit gives, you thrust forward, forcing him inside you with ease thanks to your copious amounts of slick. You feel full, the head hitting in just the right spot. Attempting to create friction, you try to undulate your hips, but the resulting shockwaves from the tip meeting that sensitive spot causes you to clench around him. 

He freezes, feeling the quickening of your walls and you yelp in surprise when he throws you on the bed. The loss of him inside you feels unfair, but he steps out of his pants and soon crowds your body with his own as he climbs over your body. A firm hand presses into the middle of your upper back, before he grips your hips and pulls them upwards. The dress slides down, revealing your bare backside to him and you feel more than hear the growl he lets out. 

He leans against your body, ripping your dress up until you are able to slide the garment off your arms and throw it to the floor. A smack jolts you forward, but he adjusts you back into place. You feel his thumb drag over your slick covered folds, taunting you. 

“Alpha!” you whine, and he chuckles before realigning his length to your throbbing core. At this angle, he reaches deeper inside of you, and he begins to rock his hips, thrust after thrust inside you. His large hand grips your chin, turning your head to the side. 

��Want to see that pretty face as you cum on my cock, want to hear you cry for me when you take my knot.” His low baritone promises you pleasure beyond your imagination. 

He licks up your spine, kissing and nuzzling into your neck, and you know it's the spot he wants to mark you at. You beg him to do it, but he just shakes his head against your skin. “Not yet, my love.”

He kisses you with every thrust he takes, before sitting up more to pin you down to the bed. His movements grow sharp, hands grabbing at your ass cheeks as he pounds into you. Switching up his movements, you can’t believe he fucks so well when he begins to rotate his hips and slips his thumb into your mouth. You suck on it, drool leaking from your mouth onto the sheets as your legs shake. 

You clench again, involuntarily spasming every few seconds and you know you’re close—you tell him as much. 

“Fuck,” he curses, and you grip the bedsheets as he adjusts his hold on you. His hands move to your hips and he arches your back even more as he speeds up his own movements. They're fluid, your slick making it almost effortless for him to please you, to take you from behind like this until he’s so deep he could feel himself poking through your stomach—

“Take my knot, want you to have my pups, fuck—”he presses his hips flush to your ass, streams of his cum filling you up endlessly as your body wracks with euphoric release. You whine as you feel the intense pressure of his knot filling you before the pain of his marking bite overtakes your senses. 

You feel overwhelmed in a good way, pain giving way to pleasure as the bite seals your mated status and his knot begins to slowly deflate. Once able, Namjoon rolls you over to face him, nuzzling into you as you hold him close. Your heat was sated for the time being, but you knew that soon you would be climbing him once again to meet your needs. 

You wince as his nose grazes your fresh mark and he makes an apologetic face. Standing up from the bed, he grabs a bottle of water for you, twisting the cap off for you and proffering the drink. 

You take a full swallow, quenching the thirst you didn’t realize you had. Heats have a way of making you forget to take care of yourself in that way. The fatigue consumes you, and you drop back down to the bed. Namjoon takes the bottle from you and places it on the side table. His hands massage your calves, working his way along your thighs. His movements could put you to sleep, but you knew as well as he did that this reprieve would not last long. The moon shone through the window casting a faint glowing halo around Namjoon’s head.

He was yours. 

In the moon's tender glow, we're born anew,

The night's canvas echoes our ancient call,

Omegas and Betas, to their knees they fall,

For the Alpha, bound by destiny's fate.

To lead, to fight, to protect, to mate,

In lunar hours, gaze upon the sky,

Let Luna's wisdom be your guiding light,

Her soothing touch to mend wounds that cry.

When crescent rises, we shall rise as one,

Aligned with moonrise, our time has begun.

↣ all rights reserved © hisunshiine 2024. please do not repost. translations & modifications are not allowed.

[octuscle]

Gringo Life

Carlos was breathing heavily. Today, his destiny might be decided. The savings of many years of hard work had been spent on Carlos's trip to the United States today. He was to meet the smuggler in a village not far from the border crossing. Carlos was to come without luggage, without papers. Only with the clothes on his back. Of course, that sounded strange, but Carlos did as he was told. He wore his best clothes. He had gotten himself a new hat. He looked hot. He was an alpha paisa! He would make a career for himself in the land of the gringos.

At the agreed meeting point, a man was standing next to a surprisingly clean new pickup. He looked like something out of a bad college jock comedy. Stars and Stripes tank top over a muscular, tanned torso. The buzz cut hidden under an upturned cap, powerful legs in tight jeans that also accentuated an impressive bulge at the crotch. Feet in dusty biker boots. He spat a bit of chewing tobacco on the street. “Carlos?” he asked. Carlos nodded with a dry mouth. “Good, then let's go.” With the little English he knew, Carlos asked where he should hide in this car. Probably not in the open loading area. The guy laughed and said that Carlos had booked a first-class ticket. You don't hide with this ticket. With this ticket, you drive the car into a better life yourself. He threw the car keys to Carlos and went to the passenger door. “Are you serious?” Carlos asked. He was already much more fluent than a few minutes ago. “You drive, I choose the music. By the way, I'm Zack!” Carlos climbed into the car. He had never sat in such a big and new and expensive car, let alone driven it. “You know how to drive an automatic, bro?” Zack asked. Carlos shook his head. “You'll learn!”

It was hot. Zack had turned off the air conditioning and rolled up the windows. Carlos had no idea which buttons to press to change that. He didn't want to ask Zack. Zack had turned up the music loud and was enthusiastically singing along to songs Carlos didn't know. He was sweating. He ran his hand over his neck. His mullet was soaked in sweat! “Coke?” Zack asked, opening what was obviously a cooled compartment in the center armrest. ‘Holy cow, dude! You're like, a total lifesaver! Thank you, fam!’ Carlos replied. With a heavy Spanish accent. But in fluent English!

“12 kilometers to the border” was written on a sign. Damn metric system, Carlos thought to himself. How many miles was that now? 10? Or more like 20? He drummed on the steering wheel to the beat of Chris Young's ‘Young Love & Saturday Nights.’ The muscles in his forearms twitched, making his tattoos dance. Zack opened the windows. The wind blew up Carlos' cut-off tank top. It felt damn good on his sweaty skin. At the end of the road, the border station appeared. Carlos took a deep breath. He slowed down. He rolled up to the Mexican border guard's hut. Zack handed Carlos two passports, which Carlos passed on. The officer only glanced through the window. He had to stand on tiptoe to see not only Carlos but also Zack in the big car. He stamped both passports and wished them a safe journey. Carlos breathed a sigh of relief. Although he knew that leaving Mexico was the easy part. Now came the entry into the USA. The officer could be a brother of Zack. Muscular, short-cropped hair, a tight, perfectly fitting uniform. He bared two rows of immaculate Hollywood-white teeth. “Welcome back to the USA!” he said as Carlos handed him the two passports. “What was the reason for your stay in Mexico?” “We were there to get wasted and hook up, y'all! Get ready for some wild times!” said Zack. The officer said that was indeed the best thing about Latinos. “Which one of you is Charles?” Silence… Zack nudged Carlos in the side. Carlos jumped and said, “My friends call me Chuck, Officer!” Zack grinned. The border guard looked at Carlos and then at the passport. Then he asked Carlos to take off his hat. Shit, the hat, Carlos thought. Of course, with it he looked like a wetback. He felt for the hat. There was no hat. He took off his trucker cap. His long blond hair fell into his face. He pushed it back. The border guard grinned and said that with short hair, Chuck would look less like a girl. He stamped the two passports and handed them back to Chuck in the car.

“So, what did I tell you?” said Zack. “Easier than stealing candy from a baby.” Chuck replied that he had obviously lost the bet. He wouldn't have believed in his life that the guy wasn't checking the back of the pickup. There were six kegs of the finest smuggled tequila rocking on the truck bed. “Dude,” Zack said. “Didn't you see the way the officer was staring at you? If you had told him you had the tequila on the truck bed, he would have let us through. The main thing is that you smile at him once.” Chuck kneaded the bulge in his torn jeans. Hell yes, the officer had been hot. But the load of his balls was reserved for Zack today. He had lost a bet, so Zack was allowed to suck him off in the repair shop. Chuck could only hope that the border guard was back on duty on the next trip to Mexico.

Chuck and Zack had been best bros since they first got kicked out of college together for drug smuggling. Behind the facade of the auto repair shop, they smuggled various things across the border. In both directions. It was lucrative. And each time they bet on whether they'd get caught or not. The loser had to empty his balls into one of the other's holes. They were rarely caught. For some reason, Chuck spoke fluent gutter Spanish like a construction worker. He didn't know when or where he'd learned it himself. That usually helped with problems at the border. And if that wasn't enough, a blowjob had been enough to get him out. Life was great.

Pics by @ki-kink

[hellsite-proteins]

i dont have a post but can you do this

heres the transcript

“Linda? What the fuck? Are you some fucking office secretary who just happens to be a middle aged white woman well into her 30s with a fucking demon of a child? Why in the ever loving shit did your parents name you Linda??? Like Linda is just Karen but somehow even more fucking stereotypical!”

peak writing

i'm not sure if this is a reference to anything or just thoughts on the name linda, but in my personal experience linda is just the boomer version of karen.

letter sequence in this ask matching protein-coding amino acids:

LindaWhatthefuckAreyousomefuckingofficesecretarywhousthappenstoeamiddleagedwhitewomanwellintoherswithafuckingdemonofachildWhyintheeverlovingshitdidyourparentsnameyouLindaLikeLindaisustKarenutsomehowevenmorefuckingstereotypical

protein guy analysis:

this was one of the rare structures that actually started to look worse as it was forming, and left me with a vile, unapproachable mess. i genuinely do not understand what rules the software had to break to even give me a pdb file, because there are side chains seemingly overlapping with each other and with the backbone. sure, no two atoms have their nuclei in the same space, but the bonds are so mangled that this could never stably exist. and this is even after the protein apparently severed some of the peptide bonds to make everything fit. apparently the rage against linda is strong enough to make electrons stop existing. this made me so mad i completely forgot that this travesty has some real alpha helices, if only to mock me. i am so upset that i had to look at this with my own eyes

predicted protein structure:

cartoon representation of the main chain

all side chains shown as sticks

close up of the center of the protein (so you can understand my pain)

[pampushky]

Teaser: My Name Is Brutus (And My Name Means Heavy)

Alpha! Lando Norris/Omega! Lauda! Reader

oooo what's this?? me dropping a juicy little teaser of probably one of my favorite things I've written??

so. this is basically an ABO au with a race engineer & lauda mc, with the wonderful trope of enemies to lovers thrown in, as you will soon see from the scene I'm releasing a bit early.

other things about the fic: slow, and i mean fucking slow, burn. exploration of what disabilities would look like in the ABO world (especially centered around the sense of smell and how that could be considered a disability if someone doesn't have one in a world where most things are communicated by smell), societal pressures about what the ideal alpha/omega/beta should look like to the rest of the world which leads to Lando making assumptions about MC's secondary gender/sex, mentions of past emotional & mental abuse, PTSD, scarring, and worries about self-worth. Oh. and obvious hurt/comfort. But again, and I cannot emphasize this enough. Slow. Fucking. Burn.

uhhh i guess i'll do a tag list too for this so. tell me if you wanna be on that.

“I do have… issues, with the way you run things here,” you scratch your claw into the wood of the table, a low rumble in your throat. The scent blockers you have on are distracting to Lando. He wonders, briefly, what your scent is like, when it’s not so medicinal. “You need more discipline. Less media. It makes you seem… soft.”

“Soft?” Lando leans forward, tilting his head. You look back at him with your constantly blank stare, a slight frown on your lips, icy eyes that challenge even the Lauda death stare. “What do you mean?” You hesitate, looking to Zak and Andrea, who both gesture for you to continue. You then look at Oscar, who bites his lip and makes eye contact with you, and shrugs softly, as if permitting you to say whatever you were about to say.

“....you will take offense to what I’m about to say, I’m warning you.”

“Please, I’ll be fine,” Lando waves it off, grinning lazily. His nose twitches. The heavily medicinal smell of your scent blockers is getting to him. Do you truly need to cover your scent that much? Are you worried that he’ll act aggressively because you’re also an Alpha?

“.... no. You won’t. I’ve seen your interviews.” You say dryly, and fold your arms. Lando balks. 

“I beg you pardon?”

“You don’t take criticism well.”

“I take it just fine!” Lando shoots back, feeling himself starting to get frustrated. Why did you have to wear them? Even if you are an Alpha, the medication provided by the FIA should be more than enough to keep anyone’s tempers from flaring.

“Then you won’t throw a hissy fit when I list out all my problems with the way you work?” 

Your tone is icy. Even. Perfectly calculated. 

“Oh, you know I want to hear about your issues with me,” Lando slams his hands down onto the table, and you just raise an eyebrow at him. He’s down to his undershirt, his fireproofs hanging at his waist as you stare at him. “So say it! Don’t hold back!”

Andrea just massages his temples as Zak looks like he wants to be anywhere else. 

“Only if you don’t throw a tantrum when I’m right.” You state, examining your nails from where you sit, as though this is boring for you. Monotonous and icy-calm. 

Lando hates your voice. Specifically how robotic and monotone it sounds. What little he knows about you— which is as much as the rest of the world, with how private the Lauda family is— is that you apparently have some vocal chord and brain damage. Nothing substantial enough to impede your thought process or the way you speak to make you mute, but enough to have caused the monotonous way you talk. A small enough problem that Lando doesn’t feel like a total dick for what he’s about to say.

“Oh, just fucking say it, you robotic bitch!”

That gets your attention. You pause, slowly bring your hand down, and look at him. With the classic, terrifying Lauda glare. Your eyes pierce his soul, and for a second, just a second, Lando considers apologizing. Tucking his tail between his legs, his ears folded back. But then, he remembers who he is, and he meets your glare with his own, lips drawn back to bare his teeth....

[piastrw]

this was supposed to be out on christmas as a gift, but i couldn’t finish it in time. so, here’s a snippet 🤲🏻

(carcar | omegaverse | pwp)

-

Oscar’s thoughts are a tangled, messy knot, slipping out of his control and spiraling into something uncomfortably raw.

He doesn’t know where to look, doesn’t know how to breathe properly with Carlos like this in front of him—shirtless, tousled hair, tanned skin.

The hair. It’s everywhere—dusting his chest, thicker down the defined ridges of his stomach, disappearing beneath the waistband of his jeans.

It’s almost too much, Oscar thinks, his breath hitching as his eyes dart lower. He’s trying not to stare, but his gaze catches on the flex of Carlos’s arms as they shift.

The way his hands—big, rough, just as hairy—press into Oscar’s thighs, squeezing, leaving behind faint pink blooms where they grip too tight.

It sends a spark of something sharp and electric straight through Oscar’s nerves, and he swallows hard, throat dry.

He doesn’t know when this obsession started. This itch. This constant pull toward Carlos that’s lodged itself under his skin and refuses to leave him alone.

He thinks about Carlos’s hands more than he should, about how it feels to have them gripping his hips, his wrists, his neck. He thinks about how it’s been a while since they’ve been—

Well.

Not together-together.

They’re fucking. Exclusively, sure, but without any real label. Just sex. At least that’s what they’ve been telling themselves.

His mum would have a field day if she knew. Probably sit him down for one of her classic lectures about what a proper omega should do—courting, dates, a respectable bonding ceremony.

Oscar was raised to do things the right way. He used to believe in that. But Carlos makes him reckless. Carlos makes him stupid. Carlos makes him feel like his head’s full of static and his body’s not his own anymore.

Carlos shifts again, pulling him from his thoughts. His hands tighten on Oscar’s thighs, thumbs brushing up the sensitive inside, and Oscar shudders.

Can’t stop staring at the way Carlos looks like this—half-wild, all heat, and so comfortable in his own skin it makes Oscar dizzy.

Carlos catches him staring, of course he does, because Oscar has never been subtle a day in his life. A knowing smirk curls at the corner of his mouth.

“You like what you see, cariño?” Carlos asks, teasing. His accent wraps around the words, making Oscar’s stomach twist.

Oscar flushes, his cheeks burning a deep pink. He looks away, embarrassed, but Carlos doesn’t let him. One of those big hands grips his jaw tilting his face back so their eyes meet.

“Don’t get shy now,” Carlos murmurs. He leans in, his breath warm against Oscar’s cheek, his other hand sliding higher up Oscar’s thigh.

Oscar whines and Carlos grins, sitting back on his heels.

It’s always like this.

Oscar gets too caught up in his head, too worked up, all hot skin and trembling limbs. Carlos loves it. Loves the way the omega comes undone so easily under his hands, lets himself melt into a puddle for him. Let Carlos take care of everything. Of him. It makes Carlos’ Alpha swell with pride.

Carlos’s fingers trace the waistband of Oscar’s panties, making Oscar squirm. The little white lace number is soft under his fingers, all delicate edges and a tiny bow at the center.

And that’s another thing Carlos loves about Oscar. He goes around dressed like such a boy—those awful shorts, plain team shirts that don’t fit quite right. No sense of style to speak of.

But underneath, Oscar always likes to be pretty.

Carlos bites back a groan, his thumb brushing over the lace. He adores this—peeling back those unremarkable layers to find something so sweet and delicate hidden underneath. It’s like unwrapping a gift every time.

But there’s something that makes it even prettier—the wet patch of slick, dripping out of Oscar and darkening the fabric.

“So wet,” Carlos murmurs, his thumb pressing down against the damp spot.

Oscar whimpers, squirming. “Your fault,” he mumbles.

“Yeah?” Carlos taunts, dragging his thumb down the lace. “Can’t help it, huh? You smell me, and suddenly you’re dripping for me.” He punctuates the words with a light slap to Oscar’s thigh.

Oscar doesn’t think he can get any redder than he already is. His face burns, heat pooling low in his stomach, and he wishes he could say something back, something biting, but nothing comes out.

Carlos shifts, leaning over Oscar’s face now, his body caging him in. He kisses him and Oscar melts instantly, his hands tangling in Carlos’s thick, soft hair.

Carlos’s hands find their place on Oscar’s waist, thumbs rubbing soothing circles into his skin, drifting lower to brush over his tummy.

Oscar is pliant, boneless beneath him, completely overtaken by the way Carlos fills every one of his senses.

All he can think of is Carlos, Carlos, Carlos.

…

[maxdibert]

Agree with your last post. I'm so annoyed by people putting Pandora with Regulus, Barty and Evan or Dorcas with the Slytherin gang or idk what else. Like Pandora was Luna's mother, why are they making her to be friends with canon death eaters? Dorcas was killed by Voldemort personally, why are they making her to be so young? Idk it's making me sad that people don't even try to respect the canon story and its characters and expand upon that. Instead they completely butcher it. I understand having fun but these headcanons have completely overshadowed the correct information we have and people now pretend like they have some canon merit.

Pandora is Luna's mother, and that's all we know about her. At what point does she magically end up being the same age as the Marauders? Why turn her into a Rosier? Where did the ridiculous idea come from that she was best friends with Barty Crouch Jr.? Like, hello? She's not Luna's mother; she's just an OC someone made up to fit their narrative, and they justify her existence by saying she’ll eventually become that Pandora. End of story. Like everything they write and do. Their Marauders aren't the real Marauders. That's not James; it's some random guy they invented and slapped his name on, and the same goes for the rest of them. What even is a Dorcas Meadowes? Is that something you can eat? And what's a Marlene McKinnon? Nobody cares—they're not real characters. We don’t care about them, especially if you only include them to hit a lesbian target audience or so the stories aren’t overwhelmingly male-centered and ridiculously problematic because the female presence and relevance don’t even hit the minimum gender quotas from two decades ago, like…

They say "fuck canon," but only to have an excuse to whitewash psychopaths and portray them as twink icons. It makes no sense. I insist: they could create their own lore within the Harry Potter universe. Take all those OCs, remove the canon names of characters they have nothing in common with, give them original and unique names, and create a new category on AO3 for the lore you've created. You wouldn’t be the first to do it, and it’s totally valid. And stop setting the stories in the '70s because all those OCs with canon names act like Gen Z kids—or even Gen Alphas—living in pre-Thatcher Britain, like, what the hell?

The best thing about the First Wizarding War universe years ago was that the CANON was unexplored, and you could create fascinating things. But always based on the CANON. Because no, “fuck canon” doesn’t work, because if you say “fuck canon,” then you're just talking about characters you don’t like. You say you’re a fan of Sirius Black, but you’re not a fan of Sirius Black. You’re a fan of an original fanfic character with traits that have nothing to do with Sirius Black, but you slapped his name on it—why? Sirius Black was the tallest, most handsome, and most masculine and violent of the Marauders in canon. He wasn’t a girly, whiny twink. Rowling spends the ENTIRE saga CONSTANTLY emphasizing how masculine, how macho, how handsome, how masculine, how handsome, and (again) how masculine Sirius Black was. Over and over. The only other character Rowling insists so much on describing physically is Snape, but only to constantly point out how ugly he is and ironically assign him FEMININE traits. Snape, who is canonically unattractive but also canonically not masculine by patriarchal standards, is someone super macho types like Sirius mocked precisely for that.

I think the problem with this fandom is that they want to be the protagonists, the cool kids, the main characters everyone admires. But the reality of the canon is that both the Marauders and the pure-blood Slytherins of the era would have hated, mocked, and marginalized people with the characteristics fans assign to these characters in fandom. That Sirius the fandom adores wouldn’t have lasted half an hour with the real teenage Sirius Black, who would have bullied him immediately for being “weird.” The fandom’s James would have been ridiculed by canon James, who would’ve seen him as a total loser. Fandom Barty? Canon Barty would’ve Crucio’d him to bits. Canon Regulus would’ve paid someone to drown fandom Regulus. And yes, that Severus fandom invented—a sort of rapist or something—would’ve disgusted canon Severus, who didn’t even dare say anything to Lily. But honestly, who’s that fandom Lily? Because canon Lily didn’t know what feminism was and was dying to have a traditional family before 20 with a rich guy who could give her financial stability. Like, seriously, xD.

I’m sorry, but your OCs wouldn’t last half an hour in '70s Hogwarts because both sides would tear them to pieces. And in the end, all the “fuck canon” rhetoric is just a way to deny that they need to project themselves as protagonists, but they know they never would be in the Marauders’ lore because, in that context, they’d end up as bad or worse than Snape. And that’s precisely why they hate Snape so much—because that character constantly reminds them that, in fact, the Marauders were bullies. And they were bullies to those who didn’t have the looks, social class, appearance, or clothes deemed acceptable. Snape is actually the closest thing to themselves that fans of the Marauders will ever find, and that reminds them that in that universe, they would’ve been the nerds, losers, and outcasts of the class.

I’m sorry for being so harsh, but it’s true. They’ve invented characters in their own image, slapped canon names on them to feel important and central, but the reality is that the actual canon characters would’ve bullied them so much they’d have ended up the same or worse than Snape.

[littlefireball]

Can you make a Werewolf Yeosang too?

Yah of course 😎 sub yeosang is here btw 😗

ʏꜱ|ꜱᴇx ꜱʟᴀᴠᴇ ᴀꜱ ᴡɪɴɴɪɴɢ ʀᴇᴡᴀʀᴅ (ᴍ)

ʙᴇᴛᴀ ᴡᴇʀᴇᴡᴏʟꜰ ꜱᴜʙ ʏᴇᴏꜱᴀɴɢ x ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ ᴋɴɪɢʜᴛ ꜱᴏꜰᴛ ᴅᴏᴍ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ʟᴏɴɢ ꜱᴍᴜᴛ|ᴏʀᴀʟ| ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴᴇᴅ ᴏꜰ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ,ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ, ꜰɪɢʜᴛɪɴɢ ꜱᴄᴇɴᴇ| ᴜꜱɪɴɢ ᴏꜰ ꜱᴀꜰᴇ ᴡᴏʀᴅ|ᴜɴᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ ꜱᴇx|ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪꜱ ᴘᴏɪꜱᴏɴᴇᴅ|ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ꜱɪɢʜᴛ

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 3.5ᴋ

Masterlist

Had it not been for the poisoning incident, you would have never found yourself caught up in this questionable contest. Now, standing toe to toe with your rival, you pace anxiously, battling the discontent bubbling inside you and the "toxins" wreaking havoc on your system.

A wave of regret washes over you as you think back to your adventurous spirit that led you to sample such strange concoctions—a glass of wine laced with aphrodisiacs. With no known cure for these powerful agents, the only path back to normalcy lies in having sex with others.

A searing heat envelops your body, your heart pounds wildly in your chest, and every breath feels like a struggle. At first, you tried to withstand the agony, but the toll on your body becomes too much to bear, drastically affecting your everyday existence. In a fit of desperation, you find yourself wandering into the grim world of the slave market.

Whether it's the intoxicating haze clouding your mind or amplifying your cravings, the sight of the prized "championship trophy" stirs a fire within you that demands to be unleashed.

Yeosang—renowned as the finest sex slave in the shadowy underbelly of the black market. To be more specific, he is a werewolf slave. How unfortunate for him, as he was forsaken by his own kind. The tale is straightforward. The mate of the wolf pack's leader became infatuated with him, yet he refused to yield to her advances, leading to her slandering him. Naturally, he stood no chance against the alpha; after all, he is merely a beta.

Clad in a sleek black silk suit, he kneels within the confines of a cage, his hands and feet ensnared by heavy chains, reminiscent of a peacock deprived of its liberty. His striking beauty feels utterly misplaced in this grim reality, with his youthful visage starkly contrasting the violent chaos that surrounds him.

Yet, he remains indifferent to the impending clash, for he is merely a "trophy," and the value he offers will remain unchanged, no matter who emerges victorious.

"Oh damn, what's wrong with me…" Your gaze is irresistibly drawn to him. Yeosang bows his head, his eyes fixating on the handcuffs encircling his wrists, a look of sorrow washing over his face as he gently traces the angry red marks left by the bindings. You take in this poignant scene, but soon redirect your attention to the looming battle.

Ho, you must be crazy because of that fucking alcohol. Why do you feel pity when you kill people for a living? Why do you have to compete in person when you can obviously solve the problem with money?

Just fuck it.

You inhale deeply, centering your thoughts back on the game. Both of you stand poised, hearts racing, waiting for your foes to make the first move.

Your eyes lock in a fierce stare, each of you radiating intensity. In your mind, you strategize, plotting the perfect moment to strike and finish the duel with a single, decisive blow.

Yet, the crowd's restlessness grows, their thirst for blood palpable.

"Just fight already! Quit stalling! You two idiots!"

A voice cuts through the tension, a man shouting in frustration at the drawn-out standoff. The knights halt their fidgeting, turning their fierce gazes toward the impatient onlookers.

Seizing the moment while your adversary is momentarily distracted, you launch yourself forward, driving your sword with all your strength!

He attempts to defend himself with crossed arms, but your blow is too powerful, sending him crashing to the ground, his trident skittering away.

You stride over him, looking down at the defeated figure, and raise your gleaming blade.

In a heartbeat, his head tumbles away like a ball kicked across the field, blood erupting like a geyser, splattering your armor and weapon.

Thus, the clash concludes—an outcome devoid of tension or buildup. The audience stands in stunned silence, unable to comprehend how this "epic battle" could be resolved in mere moments.

Even Yeosang stands in shock, having never encountered such raw power in any battle he has witnessed before. A wave of terror washes over him. Panic surges in his chest, gripping his nerves and rendering him motionless. His eyes, wide with fear, lock onto yours, as if he might crumble at any moment.

You step closer to Yeosang, your face devoid of expression, unlock the cage, and reach out your hand to him. "You belong to me now," you deliberately lower your voice, ensuring that your words remain unheard by others. After a tense pause, he finally responds, trembling as he takes hold of your hand.

You draw him out of the cage, your hand resting firmly on the back of his neck, and once more you lower your voice, whispering, "You understand what you need to do, don't you?" "Yes, Sir."

You both step into the room, the door clicking shut behind you. He reaches for your armor, but you halt his hand. Confused, he tilts his head, yet you ignore his puzzled expression and pull him onto the bed.

"Listen, I'm poisoned. I just need your help to detox, and I promise I don't have any strange habits."

"But… how can I assist you?"

"You're amusing. Did you forget your role?" Leaning down, you gently lift his chin with one finger while your other hand rests on his thigh.

"What's your safe word? I don't want to cause you any harm." He blinks in surprise, having never been posed such a question, but quickly gathers himself and replies, "Gr… Green."

"Good," you say with a smile, removing your mask and letting your hair cascade down. It's then he realizes you are a woman.

Taken aback, he stares in disbelief, struggling to grasp the reality. In all the slave competitions he's been part of, it's predominantly men who compete, with only a handful of women.

"You are staring."

"You are stunning"

He can't hold back any longer, his words spilling out in a rush as his cheeks flush with embarrassment. Your heart swells with affection at his charming confession, and you can't help but chuckle. You gently cradle his face in your hands, leaning in to press your lips against his.

This kiss is unlike any he has known; it's soft and tender, wrapping him in a blissful haze. There's no urgency, no nibbles—just the delicate dance of your lips, occasionally brushing against each other in sweet little pecks. You soon break the kiss, tracing your finger over his lips and softly ask, "Wanna feel good?" Confused, he nods his head.

"Words." you remind him. "Yes, sir… master." You stand up and remove your armor, leaving only your bra and underwear, then kneel in front of him.

Your hands caress his thighs as you kiss his sensuous lips again. With a hint of aggression, your tongue slides into his mouth while dancing with his and taking control. He can't help but moan shyly. The vibrations from each moan he releases gradually pushes you over the edge that makes you desire more.

"Oh fuck, your voice is so beautiful." You say between the kisses. The heat within your body burns like a flame, urging you to have sex with him. "Damn it…"

Your lips part once more as you settle onto his lap, rhythmically swaying your body back and forth, intentionally pressing against his member. The friction between your thighs sends shivers through you both, igniting a warmth that spreads rapidly. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, drawing nearer, occasionally brushing against his growing arousal.

Even through the fabric, the friction sends waves of excitement coursing through Yeosang. He can feel himself growing harder as the tip of his cock brushes against your lower core. A rush of heat envelops him, concentrating on his manhood, while the pre-cum seeps out, dampening his underwear, leaving him with a chill from the wetness.

With a firm grip, you pin him down, and he submits willingly to the bed, your lips locked together, creating an embarrassingly wet sound with each kiss. Breaking away from his lips, you begin to suck and lick at his neck, expertly targeting his sensitive spots. Your playful teasing elicits deep, satisfied moans from him.

"I have never used the word beautiful to describe a man." You whisper in his ears before planting a kiss on his lips. "Oh… gosh…" Yeosang has never experienced such pleasure before. For him, sex is always about service rather than enjoyment.

"Sounds good" Smiling, your hand trails down to the hem of his panties, pulling down enough to free his cock. You hold his member, feeling his hardness beneath your palm. Moving up and down slowly, you make sure he feels every move of your fingers. "Goodness…" The itchy feeling sends shivers down his spine, especially your finger rubs against his tip while giving it a hard press.

He never thought he could be so eager to have sex with anyone. Even you can say, he hates it. But you are different. Each of your movements sends a thrill through him, his desire rising like a tide of ecstasy. He craves you deeply, yearning to feel your warmth wrap around him, guiding him to the ultimate climax.

"Hmmm… I wanna enter you. Please." His beg makes you let out a low chuckle. "You're more impatient than me. Are you the one who was poisoned?" You release his handcuffs and pull him towards the headboard, where he clasps his hands onto it. Taking off all his clothes, his semi-hardened cock is revealed with precum covered on it.

"So horny, aren't you?" "Yes, yes. Please let me have you, master." You are hesitant from his words, wondering if it is education in the black market. He is supposed to be strong, brave, but not beg from others. 'What they did for him.' You think, an inexplicable anger ignites in your heart.

You will kill for him after this encounter ends. You promise.

"Be patient, little wolf." You kneel down before sinking down your face between his thighs. "Let me have a taste first." Gripping his cock, you guide it to your mouth and lick it from the bottom to the top. "Oh god." He arches his back as the numbness and the pleasure crush within his body, a long-throaty moan leaving his lips as you continue to please him with your tongue.

"Open your legs wide or I will stop," you command. "Yes, master. I am sorry." His legs wide open again as you prop against his thigh as support, moving up and down quickly while teasing his ball. Your tongue circled the head of his shaft, sucking hard, leaving a reddish mark. He rolls his hip to thrust deeper; his cock twitches each time the tip reaches your throat, and you know he is about to reach his peak. But you pull out before he comes undone in your mouth.

"Why…master…I want to cum." He cries out, tears dripping down because of delightful. "Only a good boy can cum. Will you promise? Little wolf." "Yes! I will! I promise." His begging satisfies your ego and makes it grow. Maybe the beast called desire inside you is finally breaking out of its cage.

"Then help me." Removing your panties, you throw it away before aiming at his erection, sinking down slowly. You can feel every vein of his cock as your wall tightens around it, making you carve for more. "Master, it feels so good!" "Yah, fuck!" His sperm keeps flowing out, wetting your velvet wall.

"Tell me if you can't bear it." He remains in disbelief at the words that reached his ears. You actually care for him? Is that true? What could possibly motivate that? Even if he's merely a means for your own cleansing, there's no obligation for you to feel anything for him. Yet, before he can delve deeper into his thoughts, you begin to bounce, rhythmically rising and falling after adjusting his size and the sensation of being enveloped.

Your hands press firmly on his shoulders, your nails piercing his skin just a touch too deeply, drawing blood and inflicting a sting. But he feels excited instead of painful. Your breasts bounce up and down from your movements, making him lost in this alluring sight. God, he can just watch how you bounce on him for an hour.

"Ahhh…master…gosh!!" Each time you descend, his tip brushes against your tender skin, eliciting a symphony of moans from both of you. Your rhythm accelerates, and the power behind your thrusts grows stronger. It feels as though you've drained every ounce of energy, leaving a hollow sensation in your lower body that is increasingly uncomfortable.

He yearns to explore your body, to savor every curve and contour of your skin. However, he remains immobilized, his hands bound at the head of the bed. The relentless tugging creates faint red lines on his wrists, while his palms grow slick with sweat from the tension of his clenched fists, leaving crescent-shaped marks.

Your right hand finds its way to his throat, applying pressure that steals his breath and brings dark spots to his vision. He attempts to lift his head for a gasp of air, but you have no intention of granting him a moment's relief. Your rapid up-and-down movements force him to hold his breath. The overwhelming stimulation leaves him dizzy and pushes him to the limit.

"Ahh! Ahh!! Green!!" The moment he speaks the safe word, you instantly cease all movement, loosening your hold on his throat. "Are you alright? Is there any pain?" you inquire gently, a trace of worry lacing your tone. He hesitates, words escaping him as he simply gazes into your caring eyes. You tuck a strand of hair behind his ear, your fingers gliding over his delicate skin until they rest on the vivid red birthmark.

Throughout his life as a slave, comfort has been a foreign concept, with no one ever caring for his well-being. In stark contrast to your indifference towards life in the heat of battle, you show genuine concern for him, striving to bring him joy. How could he possibly resist falling for you? Perhaps he's been ensnared by a different kind of poison, one known as "love at first sight." You lean closer, brushing your lips against his, captivated by the magic in his eyes.

"I can stop if you want." You remark. "No, please. I want you, master. I want my cock deep inside you again. I want to touch you. And has your poison been cured?"

Responding to his beg, you pull out from his body and free him from his bindings. Your gaze falls upon the bruises encircling his wrists, and you gently stroke them with your thumb.

"It appears my poison still lingers. Come and help me."

In an instant, he straightens up, his hands finding their way to your shoulders as he leans over you, pinning you down. Shock flickers in your eyes at his abrupt action, but you swiftly gather your calmness and align yourself with his intentions.

"Let me serve you, my lord." His face falls into your neck, sucking and biting your skin to leave a crystal clear red mark. He is really skilled at turning others on harder;the wet muscle trails down to your breast, licking your left nipple while squeezing another with his hand. His thumb circles it along the curve, giving a hard press to make you moan and throw your head at the back.

Guiding his cock to rub against your clit, he thrusts your cunt once again, hitting your sweet dead on. "Here, right?" He smirks with a sense of pride. "Ye..yah!" Not waiting for you to finish your words, his tip hits the same place once again. The waves of numbness make you squirm, and your screams are not as high-pitched as before, but with a shy feeling.

"I love your moaning, master." You let out an exasperated sigh, feeling a surge of warmth envelop you completely. Yeosang leans in, planting soft kisses along your neck while maintaining a steady rhythm. His shaft glides against your slick walls, creating a sound reminiscent of flowing water. With each thrust, he quickens his pace, closing the gaps between each tantalizing connection to your G-spot.

Your breath becomes shallow, and your heart pounds wildly as he maps out every curve of your body with his lips and hands, as if he were intimately familiar with every secret you hold. You wrap your arms around him, your nails digging into his back, leaving a trail of marks on his skin.

Yeosang buries his head in your chest, groaning against it. You are so perfect for him, from head to toes. Just everything. Although he doesn't even know your name, your personality, he ensures you are the one he is looking for. Someone who cares about him, someone with whom he can enjoy sex.

He loathes the idea of sex, viewing it as a repugnant transaction. He has grown weary of the way others have treated him, often rough and unkind. Each encounter left him battered to some extent, reduced to nothing more than a plaything. Yet, when he sees you, everything changes. You bring him joy and tenderness, showering him with genuine care.

It may seem almost humorous, but deep down, he realizes that you are the only one he desires, and his body confirms the truth of his feelings.

He places your leg on his shoulder and thrusts as fast as possible. "Ah!Fuck!" "Please say my name, my lord. I want to hear you say it." "Oh…yeosang ar…" Shit! He is unable to control himself anymore. He withdraws a bit and pushes into your cunt in a powerful motion over and over again.

"I'm cumming, master." He feels his cock twitches as you keep sucking him in. "Cum…cum inside me." Yeosang's thrusts become rushed and lose his rhythm; you grab his shoulders, making an "O" shape with your mouth, panting as if you are about to run out of oxygen.

"Oh! Oh! God!" After a few more thrusts, you both reach climax; your hot juices cover his cock and his sperm creams your wall. He thrusts forward twice before pulling out, lying down beside you. After a short rest, the hot feeling in your body has finally dissipated, you get up and put your clothes back on, ready to leave.

"My body is already healed, thanks." You say without noticing his sadness.

"Aren't you staying?" Yeosang asks with confusion.

"Staying? Why? Didn't I tell you that I'm just here to detoxify? Also, I have work." Yes, you have to 'deal with' those people who treated Yeosang badly.

"Will you come back then?"

"Nope." You observe him bow his head, gently stroking his wrist before hesitantly reaching to the nape of his neck. Even in his silence, you can sense the thoughts swirling in his mind. "No worries. I'm gonna kill those people who treated you badly and you can be free."

"What? No…I…"

"Isn't this what you wanted? To leave the cage and no longer be bound by anyone."

"But I don't know where to go or what to do…I'm just a reward…"

"Then go find out, go explore what you want to do."

He lowers his head in silence, deep in thought. Suddenly, he tightens his embrace around you.

He bows his head, enveloped in his thoughts, and then suddenly tightens his hold around you, as if fearing you might slip away.

"Will you stay…? That's all I want. Please… don't leave me alone. You're the only one who cares for me. I'm yours, and I'd do anything for you. Just don't go."

You can't help but giggle at his endearing gesture, stroking his hair softly as you respond, "Are you really sure? I'm a knight, and my profession is to take lives."

"Yah!I'm yours! Just let me stay with you. I'll even give you a written promise, if that's what you want!""

Maybe he sees you as a lifeline. Although you have never thought about buying a slave, it seems that if you reject him, he may feel sad. Also, you don't want him to serve anyone else.

"Umm…fine."

"Really?" A radiant smile spreads across his face, his eyes sparkling with excitement. You give a nod in response.

"Can I cuddle you?" It's the first time he's asked this as a servant, and he can hardly believe he's free to follow his heart's desire. You nod again, and he gently pulls you down onto the bed, nestling his face against your chest.

"Just like a little puppy."

"Perhaps I know your name? My lord."

"Y/N."

"It sounds like a name for a genuinely good person."

"You're being overly dramatic." You chuckle softly, allowing him to wrap his arms around you as you both drift into a peaceful slumber.

Well, maybe this aphrodisiac isn't so terrible after all. And of course, you make your promise ─ kill others for him, only.

[callsign-mimic]

Ohey... It's been a while... >.>

Here's Chapter Two of A Part of the Pack

Content Warnings: Mentions of violence, reality adjacent Mimic rather than OC Mimic, that's it really

Price came to Saint the next morning with the shirt Mimic had worked out in, still slightly damp from her sweat. Saint accepted it with a soft chuff, taking it with them back to their room. The sweat on the fabric makes Mimic’s scent easier to pick up on, despite its faintness.

Petrichor and oakwood.

The smell of a forest after rainfall.

Fitting for a small Omega that moved so quietly, even in her skittishness. Which she only ever seemed to display around the Alpha of Task Force 141.

Saint had seen her on the training grounds, still wearing her muzzle, when a young recruit had decided to try and pick a fight with her. Mimic had laid the poor lad out flat before he even knew what had hit him. Standing over him as he stared at her owlishly from his new vantage point on the ground. She didn’t take shit from anyone, refusing to back down from any fight. Unless a member of the 141 stepped in.

And they weren’t intervening for Mimic’s sake.

She’s a ruthless fighter. Fully aware of her size disadvantage, and fully willing to utilize anything available to give herself an edge. Saint is leaning against a wall next to Ghost, watching Mimic spar with Soap. They watch her use the larger Omega’s momentum and higher center of gravity against him, keeping him off balance.

A yelp from Soap during a particularly rough pin has Saint moving toward him without thinking. And Mimic backing off immediately, already halfway across the room before Saint even finishes taking that first step. Her eyes are downcast as she puts more distance between herself and Soap. Murmuring soft, guilt-laden apologies the whole time.

“M’okay, Alpha.” Soap says, putting a hand up to ease Saint. “Bonnie lil Mim just took me by surprise, tha’s all.”

But Mimic had already slipped out of the training room, hiding herself away in Price’s quarters for the rest of the day. Much to the chagrin of Soap and Gaz. Especially when she doesn’t come back out for lunch. Choosing to skip the meal and stay tucked away rather than potentially face the ire of an Alpha she barely knew.

“Ye think bonnie’s scared of Alpha?” Soap asks, moping as he drapes himself across Ghost’s lap on the den’s couch.

“Mimic? Our Mimic? Afraid of any Alpha?” Gaz asks, sounding both surprised and offended by the very idea.

“It’s not fear.” Price says curtly. “She’s trying to be respectful. She knows next to nothing about Saint. And she knows she’s not a member of the pack. Mimic loves us. The last thing she wants to do is disrespect our Alpha.”

Soap grumbles, burying his face against Ghost’s stomach. How could she not realize she wouldn’t upset Saint in any way? Couldn’t she see how caring and understanding they are? What did it matter if she wasn’t officially part of the pack? Price pipes up again, as if reading Soap’s thoughts.

“She’s unclaimed, Soap. It would be rude of her to act too comfortably or familiar with a pack’s Alpha. Regardless of how intimately she knows the rest of the pack.” He gives Soap a pointed look when the young Scot starts to pout. “Mim’s a good girl. You know that. She’s just doing her best to be polite and proper.”

“She’s going to extremes.” Ghost says flatly. He runs his fingers through Soap’s hair, his dark gaze locked on their captain. “You can’t tell me you didn’t notice Alpha’s stress when she didn’t come out to eat.”

It had been subtle, Saint’s stress when the small Omega hadn’t reappeared for lunch. But Price and Ghost had both noticed. Just the faintest hint of their scent as they wore through their neutralizers, grey eyes locked on the doorway as they waited for her to show.

Meal times had already been an issue with Mimic’s adamant refusal to remove her muzzle in Saint’s presence. Saint was fairly old fashioned as far as Alphas went, wanting visual confirmations that all of their Omegas had eaten and were sated before finally retiring to their own quarters to eat. And the way the pack acted with Mimic, it was getting harder for Saint to remember that she was unclaimed, not one of theirs. The compromise had come in making sure Mimic at least had a plate of food for herself before Saint would finally take their own meal in their room as usual.

But for her to skip a meal entirely had distressed the Alpha in a way that bordered on improper.

~*~

Price coaxes Mimic out of his room just before dinner, leading her into the den.

“Alpha.” He calls, one arm wrapped loosely around Mimic’s waist, holding her back against his chest. She doesn’t flinch or stiffen as Saint approaches like she had before. No wonder, either. The slightly glazed look in those pale eyes, and the way she reeked of Prices scent, told the whole pack exactly what measures their captain had taken to get her to relax.

“Alpha. If you’re genuinely comfortable with Mimic’s presence around our pack, would you prove it by taking her muzzle off of her?” Price asks.

Mimic tips her head forward to make the buckle of her muzzle more accessible, still purring softly from Price’s earlier “coaxing.” Saint’s fingers barely brush through her hair as they nimbly unbuckle the muzzle and gently pull it away from her face. The short mop of grown out, bleach bottle blonde and dark roots was softer than the Alpha had expected.

Not that anyone would have blamed them for assuming otherwise. Most of Mimic’s hair was the color of straw. And its penchant for defying gravity added to the illusion that it would feel much the same.

Soft.

Saint steps back, holding the muzzle loosely in one hand. When Mimic smiled up at them – clearly relieved to find that her temporary assignment with the pack wasn’t upsetting to them – Saint suddenly understood why Soap had been so aggressively offended by her wearing a muzzle in the first place.

Oh…

The satisfaction and relief that Saint feels at actually seeing Mimic eat isn’t missed by Price or Ghost anymore than their stress at her skipping a meal was. The way the tension bleeds from the Alpha’s shoulders makes the two Omegas share a knowing glance. With how comfortable she was, how seamlessly she fit into the pack, maybe it was time to make her an official pack member.

Especially with their Alpha seeming to have a harder and harder time remembering (an accepting, if they were being honest with themself) that she wasn’t already.

[itsallpoliticsstupid]

The person who wrote this original post is definitely not a 'high T alpha male,' and I'm about 99% certain they would probably cry in the presence of a physically strong woman.

The hilarious thing about this post is the fact the original author has so little knowledge of Politics he doesn't know that this isn't a democracy. It's called an Aristocracy and comes from the Greek words 'aristos' meaning best and 'kratos' meaning power.

Anyway, I digress.

I still find it wild that there are still those out there who believe a persons status is what makes them fit to Govern. It doesn't. Especially when this entire 4chan post about T Alpha males parse new information with the objective 'is this true' is seen to be absolutely untrue in the current world of Politics today.

I've often found those on both the far left and right are difficult to discuss Politics with because they have such a rigid belief system and won't be swayed from it. So often they will look at new information, whether this is from a technical source, or somebody with years of experience in an industry, and they will go 'no, I believe this...and that's it.'

You just have to look at the reaction to climate change studies. Even when we are seeing horrific flash flooding in Spain, and wildfires in California decimating land, people will still say that climate change isn't real. Or it isn't man made.

Or those who believe that vaccines are inherently evil, even when they are presented with evidence that they can do more good than harm.

Similarly, those on the left who refused to accept very real cases of people dying of the Covid vaccine because they didn't want to believe that a vaccine could ever be fatal in the right circumstances.

If you have these strong beliefs, you will never have the ability to parse new information. Because you don't want to. It's only those who study politics, who really want to understand the state of the world, who is able to parse this information and make a judgement. Traditionally, those who will be in the center and have spent years working across Government.

And nobody who supports Trump is a good candidate of a high status male who is best for decision making. Certainly not Elon Musk anyway.

[lxndonorris]

suit fitting the honey badger - Daniel Ricciardo

Y/N x Daniel Ricciardo Theme: Smutish, Teasing, Touching (not too explicit, light) it's the first time Daniel is wearing his new racing suit x word count: 2180+

When your boyfriend Daniel told you about his return to Formula 1 for the remaining 2023 season, you couldn't be happier. The last few years of his career have been a rollercoaster of emotions. Even though he got along with his teammates and mechanics and was beloved by his fans, his results weren't promising. Daniel knew he was going to lose his seat sooner or later, but then his old team, Red Bull Racing, approached him, offering him a job as their reserve driver. He immediately agreed, reminiscing about his time with the bulls. Even though he was so happy, you both knew that it was going to be tough. They value competition and results above anything else, and now, sadly, one driver has to go, with Daniel able to take over the seat at Alpha Tauri. Formula 1 as a whole is a two-edged sword. One man's fortune is another's misfortune. Even though you were so happy for your boyfriend. He got another chance—another shot at living his dream among the royalty of motorsports.

Now, you're inside the Alpha Tauri Testing Center in Italy, pacing through a large room the team prepared for Daniel's suit fitting. While Daniel is getting changed behind a closed door, you cannot help but get more and more excited. You can hear him giggling inside the other room, and he's telling you things like how good it feels, how happy he is, and how it fits, but seeing it yourself is always a different story. It's always special to see him wearing that gear, and even though most people look so good in those clothes, Daniel is on a whole other level. While you're walking from one corner to the other, many different thoughts run through your mind, and you slowly get drawn into them.

Just moments ago, they handed you an enormous parcel before they left you for some privacy. The two of you were standing in front of a huge table, with a white box lying patiently on top of it. You were holding Daniel's hand as both of you looked down at the big carton, and even though you already knew what was inside, the anticipation and excitement were slowly but steadily overwhelming you. "Shall we do it then?" He smiled softly and turned his face toward you, doing the same. "Absolutely." You nod comfortingly when both of you turned your attention back to the box. "Now or never." He chuckled and removed his hand from yours to grab the lid of the carton. With a bit of a struggle due to it clinging to the box, he managed to pull it off, revealing a beautiful white and navy blue Alpha Tauri racing suit. For a while, you felt the fabric with the tips of your fingers, while Daniel did the same.

You've seen him in racing suits multiple times since his departure from actively racing in Formula 1, but this feels so different, much more important, exciting, and overwhelming. "Are we ready, Y/N?" Hearing Daniel's giggly voice echo through the room snaps you out of your thoughts, causing you to turn your attention toward the still-closed door. "I don't know." You say this, holding back a nervous chuckle while you take a few steps closer toward him. "Ah, okay then." He says this, and just by the tone of his voice, you can tell he's smiling brightly. "We're going to find out." Your heartbeat starts to race, just matched by the number of thoughts running through you again. You see the door handle move, opening the door so slowly that even more excitement is building up inside your entire body.

Just then, he comes into frame, his head peeking around the door, his eyes looking for you right away. "Hey." He says softly. "Hi.ii." Your voice breaks slightly, and your eyes wander down to his neck, spotting the collar of his suit. "Should I come out now?" He smiles even brighter, and before you can protest or say literally anything, he takes a huge step into the room, showing off his new suit. Instantly, you try to take all of him in at once. To make it even worse, Daniel strikes a pose, steadying his hands on his hips, lifting his chin, and giving you a teasing look. Exactly the look he'd give you when he is aware of how good he looks. It's different from his usual demeanor—more serious, flirty, even.

At first, you stare at his hair, loving his curls. Then, besides his beautiful face and beard, your eyes wander even further down his body. The suit flatters him perfectly. The fabric is gently but tightly encompassing his chest, shoulders, and arms, with all of him filling it beautifully. Daniel even looks a bit broader, probably because he is working out a lot to prepare for the season. Still, your eyes keep wandering down his form, enjoying every part of it. Especially the lower half of the suit is teasing you hard. The way his huge thighs are restrained by the suit, how the fabric is running along his waistline, and the way his package looks as well. He's wearing the entire thing, including his gloves and shoes. "So? How do I look?" Daniel's low voice is sending shivers down your spine. He knows the effect he has on you very well. "Dan. You look so good." You say this, unable to pull your eyes away from admiring his excellent physique. Oblivious, you don't even notice him approaching you slowly until he stands right in front of you.

Gently, he places two fingers at your chin, lifting your head just enough so your eyes meet. "I knew you'd say that." He smirks and lifts his head just slightly, giving you another piercing look. You can tell he's so excited and happy to be wearing that suit just by the fire burning inside his eyes. Being drawn into him, you lean in as he does the same. Closing your eyes once your lips meet, you immediately melt into him, steadying yourself with both hands against his firm chest. At the same time, he places his hands at your waist, securely holding you in place. You kiss him once, then twice, softly at first, when you start to stroke his chest again and again. "Mhmm." Daniel, happy with this, purrs right into your mouth again, sending shivers down your entire back. For a few seconds, you stay like this before pulling away slightly, just enough for you to still feel his warm lips lingering on yours. "That feels so good."

He licks his lips and lowers his gaze, with his eyes now slowly following every move of your hands. While you enjoy that as well, you keep on stroking him firmly before running your hands to his shoulders, along his arms, and to his hands. He embraces your hands in his and intertwines his fingers with yours. Feeling his gloves, you think back at all the times you were with him inside the paddock, after qualifying, before and after the race, congratulating him on his performance. Thinking deeply, you lower your gaze and look at his beautiful chest. He knows what you're thinking about as he leans in once again to whisper into your ear. "We're back, babe." Daniel breathes against your skin, and you feel his body closing the distance to yours. Right away, you hug him tightly, and he embraces your body again as he starts to stroke the small of your back.

Just then, the familiar wooden scent of his cologne reaches your nostrils, calming you down as well. "I'm so happy for you." You say, closing your eyes again to take this moment in fully. "Thank you." He purrs again, placing a few soft kisses all over your neck, before he pulls away for you to have another good look at his body. "That suit looks gorgeous, doesn't it?" He says, looks down at himself, and motions for you to admire him wearing that suit again. "It does!" You smile comfortingly and watch him stroking his own chest now, again and again. "Isn't it too tight, though?" He narrows his eyes, looking at his hand, now feeling his pecs, before it wanders down to his abs and waist. "Not at all." You shake your head, knowing that he enjoys a looser fit. "You look good, Dan." Placing a hand at his neck, you lean in for another kiss.

Much to his amusement, you place your hands on his chest again, stroking him firmly once more. "And I love this so much." You smirk, causing him to do the same. "Oh, I know." Daniel raises both of his eyebrows, holding back an enormous grin. Keeping eye contact, you let your hands wander even further down to his waist, crotch, and thighs, with the tips of your fingers brushing over his excitement and his desire building up inside his suit. "I love it when you show it off." Biting your lower lip, you steal another quick kiss from his lips while Daniel enjoys the special attention he's getting right now. Together, you take another look, and once you see his name and number printed on the suit, you start to trace the letters with one finger. "I missed that." You say softly and turn your face back to Daniel, who's smiling warmly. "Me too."

He says as you keep on stroking him. Then a mischievous grin spreads across his lips. "Want to see more?" He says, his voice a little rougher than usual. "Daniel…we're not at home." You shake your head teasingly, with your hands now tracing the visible outlines of the bulge inside his pants growing bigger and bigger. "You're a naughty one, Y/N. You know that?" He licks his lips, but then he tilts his head. "But I can show you something else." Smirking, he reaches for his collar, unbuttoning it easily. "Oh?" You say, your eyes now at his neck, when he unzips the upper half of that beautiful suit. Daniel reluctantly takes a step back to get out of his suit. While enjoying him slowly undressing, you start stroking your own chest mindlessly. Just the glimpse of his tight fireproofs sparks a new wave of excitement rushing through every fiber of his body, but once he manages to slip out of his sleeves, you press your lips together, trying your best to hold back a gigantic smirk. As the upper half of his suit, the sleeves, are now hanging down his waist casually, he instantly strokes his chest again.

The fabric of his fireproofs clings to his skin, encircling his strong physique easily, even though all of his muscles are already testing its limits. "Fuck. So tight." Daniel holds back, but a soft moan escapes his lips as his eyes follow every move of his hands. He then looks back at you with an enormous grin spreading across his entire face. "What do you think?" Shaking your head, you approach him, placing your hands right at his tits, squeezing them lovingly. "I hate this." You hiss, kissing him again, while he bites your lower lip teasingly. "I know you love this." He hisses back at you, and you let your hands encompass his entire upper body again. It feels even better, with you loving how all of him is reacting to your slightest touch. Daniel enjoys you basically worshipping his form, and he lifts his chin again, his eyes telling you, that he wants you, right here, right now. Slowly shaking your head to tell him no, you run your fingers along his shoulders, and arms, as he starts to flex his biceps even harder. You feel him, and smirk.

"You're unbelievable, Daniel." You pout shortly and pat his chest, before running your hands down his body, with your fingers brushing over his erect nipples, through the visible outlines of his abs, and back to his crotch, with his desire still growing more and more. "You love me for that." He moans deeply and leans in for another passionate kiss, but then, there is a knock on the door on the other side of the room. "Fuuck." Daniel giggles, just remembering exactly where you are right now.

The door opens, and a few people come inside, and all of them smile at the sight of him wearing his suit. "How does it feel, Daniel?" A woman says, causing Daniel to blush slightly. "It feels… uh, it feels good." He says, exchanging a quick glance with you before he turns his body towards his new team. "Do you need help putting it on?" A man says, motioning for him to help with the upper half of his suit. "Oh…sure?" Daniel shrugs as the man helps him into the suit. Quickly, he closes the zipper and collar, hiding the excitement building up across his entire body. "Thank you." He says while you cannot help but giggle underneath your breath. All of them admire the suit, and you talk for a while before it's time for some interviews.